The Whisper of Stars (17 page)

‘Yes, he’s here,’ Thomas replied quietly. ‘But this isn’t part of our deal, Jen, you know that.’

‘I know.’ She regained her breath and placed her hand on his shoulder and attempted a smile.

Nathan stepped into the hallway.

‘I wasn’t sure you were coming,’ he said, his tone cold. ‘Where have you been?’

‘Is it safe?’ Jen replied.

‘Yes, it’s in there.’ Nathan tipped his head towards the spare room.

Jen walked to the spare room and returned clutching a handful of credits.

‘What’s going on?’ Thomas glanced at the money and then back to her. ‘Are you kidding?’

‘It’s only for a couple of days.’ She pushed the money into his hand.

Thomas calculated it was roughly what he made in a month. It probably should have been more, considering what she was putting him through, but he liked her. Silence confirmed his reluctant agreement.

‘Can you give us a few hours alone?’ Jen asked.

Thomas glared at them both, his anger rising up. ‘This is fucked.’

He pushed past Nathan and grabbed a long coat from a rack behind the door. ‘I’m going to my parents’ for Christmas. Whatever you’ve done, I want you out of here in three days.’

Thomas lifted his packed suitcase and left.

Jen could tell Thomas had wanted to slam the door. It wasn’t like him to be so upset; he was always so careful and considered in everything he did. She felt bad for him. He was innocent in all of this. Not exactly a good man, but certainly not a bad one.

She turned and looked at David Shaw, who attempted a weak smile.

That feeling again. Something not right about him, something that didn’t fit. It had bothered her earlier but it was really nagging now. He was tall and muscular, attractive, yet seemed completely unaware of himself. Like he was wearing a mask. For all she knew he could be another of Zido’s goons, but even that didn’t add up.

‘When we were in that car park,’ he spoke in a sombre tone, his expression suggesting this was the first of a thousand questions bubbling under the surface. ‘That guy had you in his sights.’

He was right, of course. Her escape was impossible. Anyone watching would have known that.

‘Follow me,’ Jen said and walked towards the dining room.

In the hours since her escape, she’d planned her next move. Nothing was simple of course, there were so many things to consider, but one decision had come easily.

Trust no one. Literally, from now on everyone was under suspicion.

‘Wait a minute.’ He stumbled after her. ‘You need to tell me what the Histeridae Project is. That was the deal. Remember?’

They entered the dining room. It was bijou, small and beautifully decorated. Dark red walls lit by studded crystal lights, a gold circular mirror dominating the main wall. In the centre of the room was a dark mahogany table with facing chairs. Jen asked him to sit.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked nervously.

‘I’m going to show you.’

‘Show me what?’

There was only one way she could trust him. She placed her bag on the table.

‘You wanted to know what Project Histeridae is?’ She said, matter-of-factly, lifting the device on the table. ‘Well, here it is.’

Like anyone seeing it for the first time, he was immediately transfixed by the gentle rippling movement coming from within.

Jen said, ‘Now trust me and stay calm.’

Before he could respond she accessed the Histeridae, and its creeping tendrils appeared and began their search, drifting naturally in the direction of his active mind. The thought strands had come quickly this time, stronger, and she felt calmer, too. He couldn’t see the beautiful lights, the private showing her eyes were being treated to.

‘That’s the Histeridae?’ he asked, the fear in his voice obvious.

‘Yes. It wasn’t just a project name,’ she replied, learning to split her focus between talking and searching, her eyes fierce with concentration.

His aura, purple and blue, flashed brightly as the tendrils latched around him. She could feel his uncertainty and confusion. In the car park she had asked one simple question – and he hadn’t even known she had been there – this time she would go deeper and was determined to control the exploration.

‘What were you doing in my apartment?’ she asked, her voice like a choir in his mind.

She concentrated. Unintelligible chatter came first, as it had with Mac, inner monologue spilling from his mind in random bursts. Slowly ideas emerged, thoughts she could latch on to. She was right. Under his tough exterior he was scared and pedaling hard. The truth came like a child’s confession, a monologue without breaks.

<
Until now, he hadn’t known what the Histeridae was. He was in her apartment to try and find out more about her. He wasn’t working for them, he was working alone, had been for some time. >

She could feel his heart racing and instructed him to close his eyes, to try and relax.

‘I can’t move,’ he said, his voice shaking and uncertain. ‘What are you doing!’

He tried to stand. She stopped him.

‘I need to be sure I can trust you.’

‘What the hell is this?’

Jen pushed a wave of calmness over him, trying to steer his emotions. He seemed to respond, closing his eyes. Jen did the same. It was dark. Not pitch black, though. There were flashes of red, of shapes.

Like a womb.

She began to see things, fragmented visions, as if remembering them for herself. They were his memories, flickering through her like Polaroids scattered in the wind. It was too much to take in, and suddenly feelings were surging through her, too.

Jen frowned and concentrated, trying to slow down the manic carousel of imagery. It was important to stay calm, but that wasn’t easy. He mumbled something, this time sounding really scared.

Was he feeling these emotions with her?

The murder. The one he had said he was investigating.

It was his wife’s. She was beautiful. His true love.

Jen felt a sickening, crushing sense of loss. His loss. It echoed her own, but had different characteristics, not necessarily deeper, but Jen was sure she hadn’t felt anything like it before. There was anger, too. He didn’t like to show it.

Nathan.

That was his name – his real one. He was Nathan O’Brien, not David Shaw. Another rush of understanding, as if his mind were a hissing, pressurised container filled with details desperate to escape. The knowledge didn’t arrive in a familiar way, instead it came in waves. Tidal. Yes, that was it. The process was like the surf on a shoreline rushing in and then back, revealing hidden messages on the foaming sand. Nathan was afraid, scared all the time.

Jen’s heart was pounding. The deeper she went the more likely it felt she would lose herself. Her plan to ensure she could trust him had become a strange, invasive form of voyeurism. She wanted to release him, to pull away from his mind, but was struggling to differentiate her thoughts and emotions from his. She took a deep breath, trying to avoid the panic that was biting at her guts. She focused and tried to visualise leaving his mind, tried to bring back the feeling of entry but in reverse.

A vision arrived. She found herself looking up from the ocean floor at the distant sparkling surface above. She hated diving. For her, the relief of breaking the surface was tangible, of being back in a world where you belong after visiting somewhere forbidden. Escaping Nathan’s mind felt similar to that, except she couldn’t breathe. Panicked, she began to rise, ignoring the danger of the bends, leaving his thoughts, returning to her own singular state. Rushing, bubbling water became a single tear traveling down her cheek. Sucking in a gasping rush of air, she was back. She shivered and wiped the tear away. She wasn’t sure how long the process had taken, but the natural light in the room had dimmed. It could have been hours.

Nathan stared back at her, his eyes glassy.

‘What happened?’ He was shaking, too. ‘What the hell did you just do to me?’

‘Do you know how dangerous a body relocation is?’ she asked, her anger a welcome way of ignoring her fear. ‘What the sentence is if you’re caught?’

Nathan’s face transformed from upset to completely shocked in an instant. He spaced each word in his response. ‘How do you know that?’

How do you tell someone about a device when you don’t even understand it yourself?

‘The Histeridae reads minds.’ It was all she could think to say.

Nathan stood, his legs threatening to buckle, and backed away from her. ‘Jesus,’ he said, the panic clearly building. ‘Are you doing it now? Are you in my head now?’

Jen had to know the truth, know that she could trust him, but the guilt was sitting heavily within her already.

‘Nathan,’ she said, trying to calm him down. ‘It’s okay.’

‘You know my name!’ he screamed, stumbling back against the wall.

‘Yes. And a week ago I would have arrested you on the spot for mind relocation and body swapping.’ She paused and realised with some certainty that before this was over she might need to do the same. She might need to relocate, to body swap.

It was a sobering thought.

‘Whatever that thing is, it’s not right,’ he said.

Nathan was obviously struggling to accept what had just happened. She could understand that. The Histeridae could do incredible, dangerous things. Invasive things.

He continued, ‘There’s one thing you seem to be forgetting here. Something you’re missing.’

‘And what’s that?’ Jen replied.

‘After what you’ve just done to me, how am
I
ever going to trust
you
?’

Chapter 32

‘Explain it to me again, Doctor?’ Zitagi asked.

The doctor looked uneasy. He walked across the room and took a sip of water. He had been in charge of the Government-funded medical facility for over two years, and in all that time he had never once met anyone from
upstairs
. Now, suddenly his entire department appeared to be doing her bidding. Projected in front of him was an image of skull and brain with red dots, spread like a virus, showing recent activity.

‘When used, the weapon leaves a trace on the victim’s mind.’ He paused, knowing his words would have dark consequences. ‘There were signs of something unusual here, but nothing we could use.’

‘How long did it take him to die?’ she asked.

‘Seven minutes.’ The doctor sighed. ‘It must have been hell.’

Zitagi flicked the lights back on and faced him.

‘Hell is where
we
will be if we don’t find a solution to combat this threat.’ She fixed her stare on him. The doctor knew it was pointless discussing the options; he just needed to do as he was told.

She stepped towards him. ‘We need this information.’

The Doctor nodded. ‘Yes, I understand, but if we do another extraction there is no guarantee it will give us any more data.’ His throat clicked as he swallowed.

‘Prep the second subject.’ Her voice seemed almost jovial. ‘I have every faith in you.’

The Doctor felt his stomach curdle. The patients had been brought in yesterday: Government agents, exposed to some of kind of new mind weapon. That was all they would tell him. Initially, aside from some cuts and bruises, the agents appeared to be in good health. Both had been shot with an energy pulse round, but the effects of those wore off within hours.

Their brain scans, however, told a different story, revealing evidence of some form of neural attack. The weapon – device, whatever it was – had left a clear imprint. It was unlike anything the Doctor had seen before, but a second scan revealed something even more surprising: the imprint was fading. His initial fascination had turned to horror when the woman ordered an immediate mind extraction in order to harvest the information.

‘The person who did this to them is a terrorist.’ Zitagi spoke quietly this time. ‘We have to understand how it works. Sometimes that means collateral damage. Hard decisions.’

The Doctor understood. He had heard this lecture before. Leave the hard decisions to the people who were cold enough to make them.

‘The way the brain is accessed,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it. Yes, I can see a consistent pattern, but all this is new…’ He trailed off.

‘It’s better if you don’t think too hard about it. Your job is to extract the data and then focus on the challenge ahead.’

‘Challenge?’ he asked nervously.

‘Yes. Doctor,’ she replied, her tone somehow managing to emphasise his lowly position in the overall hierarchy. ‘You are going to figure out a way of blocking the device. So it can’t be used to harm people again.’

He frowned, his mouth hanging agape.

Zido’s face returned to its default granite state and the Doctor knew then that the conversation was over.

‘Just find a way to block it.’ She walked towards the door and, without looking back, added, ‘You’ve got two days.’

Chapter 33

The following day, as the late afternoon sun bleached through Thomas’s apartment, Jen watched Nathan’s fingers flash over a holographic keyboard, filling a projected screen with lines of code. He was obviously still upset and the mood was heavy.

‘You need to accept this connection,’ he instructed, accessing her mind augmentation.

Jen saw the request. Admin level. The last time she’d seen one of those was during the set-up procedure six years ago. Everyone had some kind of mind implant. Hers was standard, a small network chip that enabled her mind to access the world and all its devices.

She accepted.

‘Try using it again,’ he said without looking up.

She attempted to access the local network and shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

He pressed a small cube in the centre of the table and the floating screen and keyboard were gone. ‘Okay. It’s disabled.’

‘Do I need to get it physically removed?’ she asked nervously.

Nathan stood and stretched. ‘No. I’ve disabled all connections. They can’t locate you unless you actually jump onto a network.’

‘What about the Hibernation chip?’

‘That’s passive. It literally gets used once a year to knock the brain into Hibernation. They can’t use it to track you.’

There’s a lot about that chip we don’t know,
Jen thought, but decided to keep that to herself for now. He was probably right. She doubted they could track anyone with it, but they
were
using it to search minds. How was she going to tell him that?