The Hunt for Pierre Jnr (17 page)

The balance of authority and power was sliding into oblivion. People had to decide what to believe, which meant taking sides if they hadn’t before and changing sides given the new circumstances. Only about one per cent would have the level of access to know what had really happened, and what led up to it. Within twenty-four hours the entire Primacy would change and those who had reigned would now become subjects.

The Colonel removed the thread from his ear that fed him communications from his Services superiors and sat back in his chair.

‘Tell me, Geof, have you ever played Criticality?’

‘The card game?’ he asked. ‘Only in the mandatory classes.’

‘It’s a trench game. When I was active, in my early days, we played it all the time. It’s a good way to pass the hours when you’re waiting for something to happen.’

They ordered food, Serviceman meals only, and Pinter took a box of palm-sized cards from his kit and brought them to the table.

Geof laughed. ‘We’re not using those, are we?’

‘Of course we are. Don’t mock. We’re not 
all
 wired to the cerebrum, are we?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Now, do you remember the basic rules of the game? You can pick up as many cards from the draw deck as are already in your hand and you can lay out as many as you choose. Stacks can only go as high as there are piles and when a stack peaks it falls down and goes into your prize pile. If that has a knock-on effect and more stacks are toppled, they also become yours. To go out, you must trigger a collapse and empty your hand. Clear?’ He began dealing the cards, ten to each of them. ‘Remember, the point of any game is to play. It’s not life or death.’

‘I find it a bit abstract, to be honest.’

‘It is intended to be analogous.’

‘Of civics.’

‘That is one example. Should I go first?’ They began playing slowly, while Geof found his feet in the game. ‘It struck me, Ozenbach, that we don’t exactly know each other that well. Do we?’

‘I guess that’s true.’

‘We met Pete before we met each other.’

‘Yes. Is that important?’

‘I don’t know. Is it?’ The Colonel only briefly flashed his eyes from the game to look at Geof. ‘You’re an incubator baby, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And what’s that like?’

‘It’s all I know, sir.’

‘Well, that’s a dull answer. I was hoping for more.’

Geof sat back, not sure how to respond. There wasn’t much more to tell. He was born (which he couldn’t remember), he’d gone to a weaver ranch for his training and since he was fifteen he’d been running assignments for Services. All of which the Colonel knew already.

‘You can’t read minds, can you, Ozenbach?’

‘No, sir. I cannot.’

‘Pity. It would make things an awful lot easier, wouldn’t you think?’

‘I can see how it might be useful sometimes.’

‘You found Peter Lazarus pretty easy to talk to, didn’t you?’

‘What is with all these questions, Colonel? Am I on trial?’

Pinter stopped in the middle of laying down his cards. ‘Of course you are. We all are. That’s why we’re in the middle of the desert. You understand that, don’t you?’

‘You’re right. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me. I’ve never been on trial.’

‘Nor would you ever expect to be.’

Was the Colonel back to this again? Why were norms so fascinated by the bred? Geof knew the mantra, because it had been drilled into him since birth: born to be better, born to do good. It was written on the wall of every nursery and every ranch, always reminding them that they were genetically compelled to do what they were meant to do and be what they were meant to be. It wasn’t something they had to accept as it was impossible for them to challenge.

‘Does my asking make you uncomfortable?’ the Colonel asked.

‘I simply don’t know what answer will satisfy you.’

‘I ask because you have more experience in being controlled than I do. I wondered what it felt like. If there was a way to recognise it.’

‘You’re suspicious of Peter? You may as well be suspicious of all of us.’

‘Oh, I agree. One can’t doubt everything. That way leads to madness. And yet ...’ The Colonel let the ‘yet’ hang in the air. ‘Geof, a little bird has whispered in my ear.’

Geof’s gaze stopped straying and focused on the faint blue irises of the older man.

‘I too found him very good to talk to,’ the Colonel said. ‘And now I ask myself if I would normally have been as open as I was with a non-telepathic stranger.’

‘Are you suggesting Pete was manipulating us the whole time?’

‘Somebody has suggested it to me. I am now asking if you think the idea has merit.’

Geof clenched his teeth, dimpling the skin under his lip. ‘It would be denial to say that it wasn’t possible.’

‘Did you ever dig out how he escaped the camp he was taken to? When he was fourteen?’

‘No, the records are restricted.’

‘Oh, come on, Geof. I know how weavers work. It’s only restricted if you can’t get to it. Why didn’t you look it up?’

‘I assumed others would have already.’

‘That’s not like you, is it?’ Pinter turned back to the game and laid down three cards on separate piles. ‘It’s not a remarkable story. He just walked out. And nobody tried to stop him.’

‘Why would they let him do that? Did he supposedly control them to let him go? He’s not strong enough for that.’

‘You’d have to ask him. The hypothesis is that continued exposure to a telepath increases their understanding of you and their ability to control you, to a certain extent. Inserting thoughts, triggering emotions. Who knows where that sort of thing would end?’

‘Look, I can’t say that it’s not a good theory, but it doesn’t feel right to me.’

‘Because you liked him? I liked him too, and I’m a seventy-year-old man who doesn’t like people on principle. But then again, when you know the person you’re talking to can read your mind, it might just be a natural reaction to be more open. One may as well submit to it, so to speak.’ Pinter smiled wanly at the end of his point, and then brightened as the food and alcohol arrived.

They continued to play Criticality as they ate, and sipped at the aniseedy liquor that was provided. It was a good game for their current situation, since it had no end when playing with an infinite deck.

‘I’m not used to waiting around like this,’ Geof complained.

‘Most of a soldier’s life is waiting. At least we can’t be in too much trouble.’ Pinter raised his cup of liquor. ‘If you were Peter —’

‘I refuse to believe it, Colonel.’

‘No, different topic. If you were Peter, I wouldn’t have to tell you this, so this is the first time I’ll be saying it out loud. My wife and I are now parted.’

Geof put down the fork he was holding. ‘And you are telling me this why?’

‘Because if you weren’t cut off from the data right now, you’d already know. I believe the restrictions on us will be lifted. I didn’t want you to think later that it was why I’ve decided to reactivate.’

‘Reactivate?’ Geof stumbled over the thought. Pinter was an old man who hadn’t seen action in decades. ‘So why are you?’

‘Didn’t you see what happened in the Dome? Are you not watching the same screens I am? A single child destroyed a kilometre of a city. Thousands of people were killed. By one boy.’

‘We don’t know for sure that is what happened.’

‘But we both believe that it was. Peter said he saw him.’

Geof nodded agreement. ‘But didn’t you just say we shouldn’t trust him?’

‘I was just passing on what someone told me. It’s always wise to question one’s assumptions.’

‘Okay, so what if he and Pierre were working together?’

‘And Tamsin.’

‘Is there any word on her?’

‘Not that I have been told.’

‘Now there’s something I could be doing. She wouldn’t be able to just slip away if they let me track her.’

‘But we are all on trial for now. Ah.’ Pinter emptied his hold of cards onto the table, collapsing seven tall piles and sweeping them into his prize count. ‘Would you like to play through or restart?’

‘Restart. I think I know where I went wrong.’

‘Every game is different.’ The Colonel gathered the cards into one pile and began shuffling them for a new game. In this way they passed the hours. Reading, talking and Geof losing hand after hand of Criticality.

Geof looked over the news sheets. ‘Are you familiar with this Ryu Shima, Colonel?’

‘I can’t say that I am.’

‘Things will change if the Shima family makes it into the Primacy,’ Geof said. ‘I reviewed his case studies before we started the hunt. The man is efficient. He has developed a good formula for psi collection.’

‘Some efficiency might be what this team needs if the hunt is to continue.’

‘Surely it must. Catching Pierre is more a priority now than ever. We’ve seen what he is capable of.’

‘You are missing the bigger picture, Geof. It won’t just be about Pierre now. There is already a suggestion that this is the first sign of a psi rebellion. Of which we can only assume that Pierre Jnr and possibly Tamsin Grey are a part. Maybe even Peter. The appointment of a man with Shima’s record might be a response to an act of war.’

‘So what should we do?’

‘We wait for the command. As we always do.’

‘And until then we play games and talk?’

‘A soldier’s life for me.’ Pinter smiled and dealt ten new cards to each of them. ‘You start this time,’ he said.

‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.’

‘Go ahead, Ozenbach. I think I know what it is.’

‘Well, I know who you are of course. I know your history.’

‘Not really any secrets there, are there?’

‘I was wondering what you would do to beat Pierre. Now that we’ve seen what he is capable of.’

‘Ah, well, now you’re in my area.’ He doubled his hand and laid down no cards. ‘For a start we might not have seen what he is really capable of. We’ve seen one instance. We need to know more about his weaknesses. We don’t even know if a simple missile strike might be effective.’

‘Collateral damage be damned?’

‘I think I can guess which way the majority would swing.’

‘That means the first place we think we found him becomes a death sentence for the surrounding Citizens,’ Geof said.

Their conversation was interrupted as a sergeant knocked at their door and entered with a cursory air salute.

‘Colonel, your presence has been requested by the Primacy.’

‘More debriefing?’

‘I have passed on the entirety of my missive. If you’ll come this way, we have a jet waiting for you.’

The Colonel looked at Geof. He turned his cards around to show what he was holding. ‘I was about to get twenty points in one turn.’

Geof followed Pinter to the opposite end of the compound. A two-seater Services cone waited on its haunches in the cleared area slightly away from the squibs.

‘It’s time for the reprimand or the medal, I’d say.’ Pinter winked at Geof as they shook hands.

‘Let me know which it is.’

‘I will if I am able. So long, Geof.’

‘Goodbye, Colonel.’

Geof stood and watched as the jet flung itself into the sky, a hiccup-explosion, then pulled swiftly up as if towed by a line.

Before returning to his quarters, Geof strayed over to the fence to look beyond. The compound lights pushed full dark back for a hundred feet, revealing a red sandy waste. He craved data. His near-useless symbiot fed him what its sensors could gather, but it wasn’t enough. Temperature: six degrees and dropping. Wind speed: eleven kilometres per hour. There were one hundred and fifteen bio-signatures within the compound — though he couldn’t access their files to find out more about them.

He’d read that people in olden times could predict the weather by the smell on the wind. It didn’t seem to work for him.

Nobody stopped him entering the hospital tent. Only one nurse was allowed near the patient while he was conscious; other Servicemen were kept away. The tent was guarded by a single rank of servitors standing at attention with lasers and tranquillisers.

He sat in the only chair and watched Pete’s chest rise and fall. Geof had only known Peter for a few weeks now and wasn’t sure why he felt as close to him as he did. Just liked him, he guessed. And what difference did it make whether or not Peter influenced him? Geof’s whole life was like that ...

‘It amazes me ... that you don’t resent them,’ Pete croaked through a scratchy throat.

‘You’re awake.’

‘It’s hard to sleep. It’s also hard to stay awake.’

‘You’re on a lot of stuff. No, don’t move,’ he said as Pete tried to sit up.

‘What’s happening out there, Geof?’

Pete seemed different. Not simply because of his injuries or because his hair had been removed. 
Is it the calm of defeat or the extent of his injuries?
 
Or has Pierre Jnr shaken the sense out of him?
 Geof remembered that Pete was probably reading his thoughts and he looked up to catch his eye.