The Whisper of Stars (18 page)

Nathan began snooping along Thomas’s bookshelf. He picked up a book and leafed through it angrily. He had every right to be upset. The experience of mind searching had been a profound one, for them both. Getting to know a person was supposed to take time, a natural process that humans accept and understand. The Histeridae short-circuited that entire notion. And she hadn’t just
seen
inside his mind, she had felt his pain, his grief, his love. Perhaps the biggest problem of all? It was one-way. He hadn’t felt or learnt anything about her. It was an unnatural invasion and had left her with a lingering and consuming sense of guilt.

‘Thank you,’ Jen offered. ‘For bringing the Histeridae here safely, for disabling my comms.’

He looked at her blankly. ‘You’ll get used to it eventually, by the way.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Being cut off.’

It would take some time to adjust. Mind augmentation was everywhere, the only way to access some devices and networks. She removed her contact lenses and felt disconnected, alone.

Nathan picked up a photograph of Thomas. ‘How do you know him?’ He turned the picture towards her. ‘Ex-boyfriend?’

‘Er. No,’ Jen mumbled, caught off guard. ‘Well, kind of.’

Nathan shrugged again; he was doing a lot of that. She watched as he continued nosing around the room. There was so much she wanted to ask but decided to take things slowly. She needed to gain his trust before bombarding him with questions about his wife or the procedure.

Body swapping. Did he really understand the risks? Perhaps he did. She had felt his determination and loss, those feelings still fresh in her mind. His mind relocation seemed to be holding well. No signs of splintering. That was good. And, he had managed to disable her network chip. He might just be useful after all.

‘Where did it come from?’ Nathan asked, staring at the Histeridae, its shiny surface radiant in the early evening light, its magic drawing his attention ever inward.

‘I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,’ she replied. ‘Nathan. Listen, I am sorry.’

He nodded blankly.

‘Really,’ she said, more firmly this time. ‘But I had to be sure.’

‘It was a violation,’ he snapped at her, shuffling his feet, embarrassed. ‘Sneaking about in someone’s mind. It’s not fair.’

‘You’re right.’ She was almost pleased to get a response, even if it was anger. ‘I won’t do it again.’

‘It’s personal stuff.’ He frowned hard, not ready to let it go. ‘My wife. My feelings.’

Jen sat quietly, allowing him to vent, finding herself agreeing with him.

‘I had a friend,’ she said eventually. ‘A colleague. His name was Jim McArthur. I trusted him completely, had known him for twenty years, and all that time, he was working for them. The Histeridae showed me that. Without it I would never have known.’

Nathan walked to the window and stared out at the street below. ‘Still doesn’t make it right though, does it?’

‘No. It doesn’t.’

There was silence for a while.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ Jen knew she needed to be gentle, to tread carefully. ‘What was your wife’s name?’

Nathan stared at her suspiciously.

‘I just want to try and do this properly,’ Jen offered, ‘Start again. Get to know you the normal way.’

She watched him. It seemed like he was physically preparing himself to talk about her. It was a long time before he spoke.

‘Katherine,’ he said. ‘Her name was Katherine.’

‘And do you think you could tell me what happened? What she was investigating?’

‘I kind of figured you already knew everything.’ He tapped the side of his head sarcastically.

‘I stopped the minute I knew I could trust you.’ She waited, seeing his defences lowering. ‘Just start at the beginning. You told me she was investigating something.’

‘Yes.’ He spoke slowly. ‘Links between the Government
and Baden Corporation. She had a nose for that sort of thing.’

‘What did she find?’

‘She’d had a tip-off. Some of the early deals were suspect, huge sums of money. She started digging – she was good at finding that stuff.’ Nathan smiled, but there was an obvious pain. He swallowed and continued. ‘A few weeks before they killed her, she managed to get a reporter to talk, all off the record, fragments of information, rumours. That’s when she first heard about the Histeridae project. She was convinced she was onto something.’ He rubbed his hands up and down his face. ‘She was right.’

Jen nodded. ‘Mac told me the same thing. The Government
own
Baden. Did you know that?’

Nathan shook his head.

‘My father’s research started it all, helped Baden develop the Hiberchip, and now they’re searching us when we hibernate, using the chip to read our thoughts.’

Nathan continued to shake his head.

‘What?’ Jen’s voice was higher than she expected.

‘I’m sorry,’ he replied. ‘But you sound like a crazy conspiracy theorist.’

‘I do.’ Her thoughts turned to Callaghan. ‘But it’s true. I’ve seen it. Search echoes. They’re monitoring our thoughts, searching us, and it’s all linked to Hibernation and the Histeridae.’

‘And Baden.’

‘Yes. And Baden.’

‘What about data privacy?’ Nathan countered. ‘The Symbiosis Act? How the hell could all this go unnoticed?’

‘If they’re all in bed together then the policymakers create their own rules, they cover their tracks. Think about it; after the troubles, the UN were given exclusive powers of governance. Within years we had identity cards, new immigration laws, travel permits, neural facial recognition, you name it.’

‘Why though?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why do it? Why search? The world’s going to shit – why do they want to know what we think about it? What difference does it make?’

Jen sighed, it was a good point. ‘People were scared. Maybe the UN just saw their chance to make some new rules. ‘“
We need to make the word safer
.”’ She was mocking a political debate. ‘“
Protect ourselves against the global threat
.”’

He nodded towards the Histeridae. ‘So, it’s served its purpose, then hasn’t it? The Hiberchip was developed, and now it’s searching away. Why do they want that thing back so badly?’

Jen said, ‘It’s still a weapon, and they don’t fully understand it.’
 

‘Maybe they want to destroy it. Cover their tracks,’ Nathan suggested.

‘Maybe.’

Now it was Jen’s turn to stare out the window. She stood and looked down on the City, a curious feeling growing inside her. She had never believed in fate, or destiny or any other manmade attempt to make sense of the world. Yet, the events that led them here were accompanied with a sense of interconnectedness; some strange, hidden meaning. The Histeridae, her father, Nathan’s wife. A thread, perhaps linked.

‘Why did you start all this?’ she asked him.

‘To find out who murdered my wife,’ he answered easily. ‘And then…’ He stopped himself, frowned and clearly changed what he was about to say, ‘Find out the truth.’

‘I think they’re the same thing. The reason people keep dying is to hide the truth.’

Nathan stared at the floor and shrugged. A few minutes passed. He seemed uneasy, agitated. Here was a man who had started with a single objective: revenge. He had almost said it. Find out who murdered her and kill them. Now it was muddied, confusing, multiple threads threatening to distract him from his goal.

‘I won’t stand in your way,’ Jen said carefully, acting on her hunch.

Nathan looked up. ‘How do you mean?’

‘If we find out who murdered her, I won’t stop you.’

Nathan took a long, deep breath. ‘Thank you,’ he said finally.

Jen didn’t take that lightly. They could take her badge and set her on the run, but deep down she was still a police officer. And yet, here she was telling Nathan that she wouldn’t stop him enacting his revenge.

Adaptation, she supposed. It would be necessary if she was going to live through this.

‘One will lead to the other,’ she said. ‘I’m sure of it.’

‘And then what?’ Nathan replied.

She turned to him, realising that for the first time in as long as she could remember, she was glad for some company, thankful that this strange man, who had appeared out of nowhere, was going to be part of all this.

‘Nathan, I think it’s up to us to blow this whole thing open,’ she said, her determination returning.

The vague hint of a smile crept along the edges of his lips. ‘Where do we start?’

Mac’s words echoed back through her mind.

‘Whatever it is, however deep it goes, it started with your father but it ends with Baden.’

‘You said your wife managed to get someone talking. Someone who knew about the money, the dirty deals.’ Jen placed her hand on his shoulder. ‘We start with the Baden Corporation.’

Nathan nodded and then said, ‘By the way.’

Jen looked at him quizzically.

‘Happy Christmas.’

Chapter 34

The search team were close. Owen Powell gripped the cold railing and peered over the edge of the metal walkway. The water below was rising. Soon the tops of the data servers would slip beneath its silky black surface. He estimated its depth to be about twenty feet now, the rotating yellow security lights only just visible below the surface.

‘For God’s sake, get me out of here,’ he screamed at a panel on the wall, his eyes darting frantically around the steel chamber. A voice answered, young and filled with confidence and reassurance.

‘Mr Powell, we are working to locate you. We’ll find you.’

Powell made a sound in his throat, an involuntary childlike whimper that scared him even more. How the hell did he get himself into this? A leaking server room deep underground. He found himself staring at his expensive shoes, felt the sweat on his back soaking into his perfectly pressed shirt. He was going to drown in here, locked in, alone. He was the fucking CEO, for God’s sake. He was important.

‘Sir?’ The voice again.

‘I’m here,’ Powell replied.
Where else would I be?

‘Sir, I need you to look above the door and confirm which server room you are in.’

Powell looked up at the large stenciled letters above the thick steel door.

‘457B,’ he screamed, ‘I’m in 457B.’

Something below him groaned, the sound of steel complaining. It was the kind of sound he associated with ships cracking in two, or submarines about to implode. He leant over the balcony again to see a sudden belch of water and steam followed by a rush from one corner to the other, creating a swirling, pale green foam on the water’s surface. The main lights blinked out and the security lights kicked in, bathing him in a hellish red. He imagined himself floating silently in the freezing water, those red lights magnifying his terrified expression, eyes wide open, mouth agape, a bubble dancing from his nostril.

‘Get. Me. Out of here.’ The desperation and pitch of his voice was increasing.

He heard the distant sound of men and machinery and drilling. Perhaps they were opening the door manually, by force. How long would that take? His mind offered images of his family, his wife. His life outside of the company, one he knew he had ignored. All these years, given to Baden, seemed so pointless now. For what?

Another huge bubble of water surged up from the centre of the room below. A thin mist of water sprayed over him.

‘Mr Powell,’ the intercom said. ‘There is a panel in front of you. Can you please enter your unique ID for me?’

‘My what?’ His voice was higher than it should be.

‘Your identifier pin. We can drill through the locks, but we need to deactivate the security first.’

Powell felt the chill of real fear grip him. He didn’t know it. He hadn’t needed it for years.

Oh Christ.

The water pushed up through the square grating of the walkway and over his ankles, sending a sudden shock through his legs.

‘Sir, we have a team on the other side of the door, we can reach you, but you need to be act quickly.’

‘You think I don’t fucking know that!’ His teeth were banging together uncontrollably, the water almost at his knees.

Think, Owen, for God’s sake think.

He began punching numbers. His daughter’s birthday.

Red light.

His birthday.

Red light.

Room filling with water. Red lights. Floating dead. Red lights.

‘Oh Jesus. I can’t remember it.’ He thumped his hand against the wall, tears welling up in his eyes.

Wait. Wait! It was the day he became CEO, wasn’t it? The most important day of his life.

He pressed it into the console, his finger almost slipping on the last digit. Green light.

‘That’s it!’ he screamed, chest tightening against the cold. ‘Get me out of here.’

‘The team are drilling now. Stand by.’

The water pushed and swirled, threatening to drag him sideways and under. He looked around the steel room, filling up, black, freezing. There was no way they were getting through the door. It was twelve inches thick. He felt the water lifting him and gasped against its harsh chill, screaming out, begging for escape. His head bumped against the ceiling of the server room. He pressed his hands against it, part of him hoping it might move, that something would happen, something would give. He panted, crying out as the water filled the space. Owen Powell, CEO of Baden Corporation, screamed and thrashed, drowning in a mass of silvery bubbles.

He thrust himself forwards, taking a massive gulp of air, his scream suddenly finding a sound in the blackness surrounding him. Then, a hand, touching him, warm and dry.

‘Darling, it’s okay.’

Powell’s heart felt as though it was about to pop from his chest. He was soaked in sweat but otherwise dry, surrounded by air, not water.

His wife held his shoulders. ‘Darling, it was a dream, it’s okay, you’re safe.’ She flicked on the sidelight and he saw their large bedroom. Expensive, plush and as described: safe. He exhaled loudly, his body heaving one singular sob. The relief was huge, but he couldn’t recall ever crying in front of his wife; he certainly wasn’t going to start now.

‘Are you okay?’ his wife asked.

I thought I was dead, I really thought I was dead.