Day of the Predator Page 8

  Liam could hear the rustle of clothes being quickly pul ed on behind his back.

  Good.

  He real y didn’t need to see that … again. He found a pair of neon green three-quarter-length baggy shorts and a navy blue sweatshirt with the word NIKE splayed across it. And, for some reason, a large tick beneath the word. He felt much bet er with some clothes on, even if they looked quite ridiculous.

  ‘I had a cousin cal ed Rebecca,’ he said. ‘Used to cal her Becks for short.’

  ‘Becks?’ replied the support unit, her voice rising at the end in a query.

  ‘That’s right – Becks.’

  ‘A moment … logging ident….’

  ‘So, are you decent now? Can I turn round?’

  ‘So, are you decent now? Can I turn round?’

  ‘Decent?’

  ‘You know, got clothes on?’

  ‘A rmative.’

  Liam turned round and found his breath caught momentarily. ‘Blimey!’

  Becks cocked her head and looked at him. ‘Are these garments incorrectly deployed?’

  His eyes skit ered awkwardly up from the combat boots to the black leggings, to the black lace mini-skirt to a black crop top that displayed a bare midri , up to her … perfect

  … face framed by tumbling locks of aming fox-red hair. Quite clearly Sal had decided their support unit needed to look like some sort of gothic valkyrie.

  ‘Uh. No, you are … you got it about … errrr … right, I suppose … I think.’

  Liam felt his mouth go dry and a strange jit ery, lurching sensation in his stomach.

  Jay-zus … get a grip, Liam. That’s … that’s … that’s just Bob wearing a girl suit. Al right?

  ‘Recommendation: you should refer to me as Becks from this point on,’ she said rmly. ‘It wil avoid unnecessary confusion between AI versions.’

  He nodded. ‘Al right … uh, OK. So, you’re Becks, then. That’s that set led.’

  ‘Correct.’ Her smile was faltering and clumsy as always, just like Bob. But on those lips, strangely quite perfect. Liam decided to shift his mind to other things. ‘I suppose we had bet er get a move on and nd this Chan suppose we had bet er get a move on and nd this Chan fel a.’

  Becks nodded and blinked, retrieving data from her hard drive. ‘We are located within the institute’s experimental reactor building. The reactor is very close to this location.’

  Liam stepped towards the storeroom’s door and cracked it open a sliver. Outside he could see a narrow hal way and, opposite, double doors with a sign on them: AUTHORIZED VISITORS AND STAFF ONLY. Just then he heard mu ed voices from the end of the hal way and glass doors swung inwards to reveal a man in a smart linen suit leading a shu ing gaggle of teenagers.

  ‘Yes, we’re in the correct place al right,’ whispered Liam. He watched them coming towards them, the man turning to talk to the group, gesturing emphatical y with his hands. Liam gently closed the door until it clicked.

  ‘They’re just coming up now. We can tag along on the end,’ he whispered.

  He waited until the muted sound of the man’s droning voice and the shu e and slap of trainers on the polished linoleum oor passed them by before he cracked the door open again and peeked out. The last kids in the school party were just ahead, three blonde-haired girls deeply involved in a mumbled conversation, clearly too interested in chat ing to each other to even pretend to be listening to the guide up front.

  ‘Now!’ Liam mouthed, and stepped out behind them, Becks swiftly fol owing.

  Becks swiftly fol owing.

  He fel in step at the back of the group and when one of the girls casual y glanced back over her shoulder he quickly managed to mimic the laid-back swagger of one of the boys up ahead.

  ‘Oh,’ said the girl. ‘Thought we were, like, you know, the last.’

  Liam shrugged and smiled. ‘Guess, like, not,’ he replied, doing his best to bury the Irish in his voice. Her gaze lingered a moment longer, a ickering smile for him. Then she turned back round and was back to gossiping in a conspiratorial murmur with the other two again.

  Liam pu ed out a silent gasp of relief. It looked like they’d jumped the rst hurdle – successful y sneaking on to the back of the tour party and managing to pass themselves o as yet two more kids who might actual y have preferred a trip to Disneyland or Universal Studios than wandering around a bunch of clinical y clean corridors. He grinned at Becks and then almost immediately wished he hadn’t. The smile she returned gave him that weird ip-opping sensation in his stomach again.

  Liam, you daft idiot … It’s just Bob in a dress, for crying out loud!

  He wished Sal could have found some other clothes for the support unit, something baggy, drab and un at ering. And why a wig with hair like that? Why that colour? He’d always loved that copper red. His rst crush at school, always loved that copper red. His rst crush at school, Mary O’Donnel , she’d had hair that bewitching colour of ery red.

  Oh, saints preserve me … she’s just a meat robot, so she is.

  CHAPTER 17

  2015, Texas

  ‘And here we are!’ announced Mr Kel y to the group.

  ‘We’re about to enter the central reactor containment area. The whole experimental chamber is surrounded by an electro-magnetic eld to lter out possible interference from al manner of electronic devices. Basical y, we’re going to be walking inside a giant electro-magnet. So if you kids have any iPods, laptops, iPhones or memory cards with data on you’d rather not lose, may I suggest you place them on the table here before we step through?’ he said, indicating a table beside a pair of thick metal doors. Liam watched with amusement as virtual y every student sighed and then proceeded to reach into their rucksacks to pul out al manner of shiny metal and plastic gadgets and gizmos.

  Eventual y done, Mr Kel y tapped an entry code on to the large metal doors and he smiled expectantly as they swung slowly inwards.

  At last, the gaggle of teenagers in his charge seemed to be shaken out of their torpid state of disinterest. A shared gasp rippled among them as their eyes swept up to take in the large spherical chamber, seemingly constructed entirely out of footbal -sized bal -bearings.

  out of footbal -sized bal -bearings.

  ‘As you can see, the entire chamber is lined with charged magnets, which act as a completely impenetrable barrier for any sort of FM radio signals, WiFi signals, electrical currents, atmospheric static and so on, the sort of things that can a ect our readings from the test runs.’

  He led them into the spherical chamber along a raised walkway, towards a platform thirty feet in diameter. Mr Kel y pointed towards a rather less impressive-looking structure, what appeared to be a polished metal witch’s cauldron with a lid on, six feet across. Wires and cables and broad cylinders of metal descended through the lid into whatever witches’ brew was bubbling away inside.

  ‘Now that, kids … that’s what this is al about. That metal sphere contains tens of bil ions of dol ars’ worth of investment, and quite possibly represents mankind’s energy future.’

  ‘That’s the reactor?’ asked Mr Whitmore.

  ‘Yup. That’s it, the zero-point energy test reactor.’ Kel y smiled and shook his head. ‘You know, it stil amazes me that something so smal , something the size of a … of a smal car could, in theory, provide more than enough energy for every last person on this planet.’

  Liam found his jaw sagging open, just like everyone else’s.

  ‘The tests we’ve run in there have so far produced real y quite staggering amounts of energy out of the space-time vacuum pinholes that we’ve opened. The trick is sustaining and control ing the pinhole … and, of course, containing and control ing the pinhole … and, of course, containing such huge amounts of energy.’

  ‘That sounds a lit le, like … a lit le dangerous,’ said the blonde girl who’d glanced back at Liam.

  Mr Kel y looked at her. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Laura Whitely.’

  ‘Wel , Lau
ra … I guess it does sound a lit le dangerous. Dr Brohm, one of our leading scientists working on this, likened it to opening a very smal peephole and looking on to the face of God himself.’ Mr Kel y forced a laugh at that comment. ‘A lit le fanciful, I think, but it gives you an idea of how much energy we’re talking about …’

  Howard Goodal felt the rst bead of sweat trickle down the smal of his back as he discreetly eased his rucksack o his shoulder on to the oor. He slowly opened the zip just a lit le and sneaked his hand inside. His ngers quickly found the screw cap of his thermos ask and he gently began twisting it o .

  He could see Edward Chan at the front of the smal knot of students gazing in silent awe at the glistening metal container.

  Howard wondered how they could al be so incredibly stupid, how mankind was happy to play dice with technology it had no way of understanding. He remembered a lecture at university. His tutor had talked about the Americans’ Manhat an project during the Second World War – their at empt to build the world’s rst atom bomb. How, when they rst did a test detonation in the deserts of New Mexico, the scientists hadn’t been certain deserts of New Mexico, the scientists hadn’t been certain whether the bomb would destroy several square miles of desert or, indeed, the entire planet. But stil the reckless, sil y fools went ahead and tested it anyway, played dice with mankind’s future.

  Just like time travel – a technology mankind was woeful y unprepared to be in possession of. He stepped forward, a lit le closer to Chan, his eyes darting to the heavy doorway of the chamber slowly being swung back into place.

  His hand felt the tube-shaped carbon-bre weapon. It was smal , tiny, with a magazine containing six toxintipped projectiles. He only had to wound Chan, just get one shot on target and wound the boy – the neurotoxin would nish him in minutes.

  This is it, Howard, he told himself. This is the end of time travel.

  CHAPTER 18

  2001, New York

  ‘What? Jealous?’ Maddy shook her head emphatical y.

  ‘Jealous of Bob Version Two?’

  Sal had a mischievous look on her face. ‘Just asking.’

  ‘Oh, come on, of course not! It’s not even human … it’s just … it’s just a clone. It’s not even a genuine copy of a human – it doesn’t have a proper human brain!’

  ‘But she looks very human.’

  ‘And so does a storefront mannequin, or a GI Joe action gure or a Barbie dol .’

  Sal shrugged and grinned mischievously. ‘Liam seemed impressed.’

  Maddy had noticed. His eyes had been out on stalks. ‘No di erent to any other boy, I guess … one thing on their minds al the time.’

  Sal giggled. ‘True.’ She spun in the o ce chair beside the computer desk. ‘So, you don’t … so you’re not jealous?

  ’ Maddy took o her glasses and wiped them on her Tshirt. It was decidedly odd having Bob looking like that, like some athletic-t catwalk model, some Amazonian beauty. And yes … having something like that gliding beautiful y around was enough to make any female feel beautiful y around was enough to make any female feel inadequate, plain in comparison. But then Maddy was used to it.

  On the other hand, if Sal was asking in a roundabout way whether she had feelings for Liam … wel , the answer was no, not those sort of feelings. Liam was nice-looking, charming in an old-fashioned gentlemanly way, but what she felt for him, more than anything else, was pity, a choking sadness.

  Every time I send him through … I’m kil ing him just a lit le bit more.

  She looked at Sal. ‘No, I’m not jealous. I’m not, you know, like … after him –’

  > Maddy, it is time to activate the return window.

  ‘OK,’ she replied, turning to face the desk. She began to tap the retrieval coordinates into the computer.

  ‘But he’s nice,’ said Sal.

  ‘Sure he’s nice,’ said Maddy. ‘I’m sure he had girlfriends back in Ireland, but … but, I’m a couple of years older than him anyway and … and it’s more like he’s a lit le brother, or a nephew real y, than, you know … sort of boyfriend material.’

  Maddy double-checked the coordinates. ‘Anyway … My God, Sal –’ she grimaced at her – ‘I can’t believe you’re being so personal!’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Sal, icking a tress of dark hair out of her eye. ‘Oh … I just remembered! You’l never guess what I saw in a junk store down–’

  ‘Just a moment, Sal. I need to concentrate …’

  CHAPTER 19

  2015, Texas

  Liam identi ed Chan among the students. It wasn’t as obvious as he’d thought it would be. There were about seven or eight who looked oriental to him, and most of them were younger than the other students. But he knew Edward Chan was the youngest here and he zeroed in on a smal boy at the front, gaping wide-eyed at the zero-point energy reactor. Seemingly entranced by it.

  Becks gently tapped Liam’s arm and leaned towards him. ‘Information: according to the mission data, Edward Chan only has four minutes and seven seconds left to live.’

  Liam nodded. He looked around the chamber, trying to identify what or who could possibly pose a threat to the boy. If they were down to four minutes, then presumably the lad’s kil er was right here, right now, get ing ready to make his move. His eyes darted from Mr Kel y, explaining the machinery and instrumentation, to Mr Whitmore, stroking his sparsely bearded chin thoughtful y, to the two technicians manning a couple of data terminals. One of them?

  His gaze shifted to the students, al of them stil marvel ing at the interior of the chamber and some of the incredible-sounding statistics that Mr Kel y was reeling o . incredible-sounding statistics that Mr Kel y was reeling o .

  ‘… equivalent to al of the energy produced by coal, oil, natural gas … over the last one hundred and fty years …’

  One of them? One of the students?

  Why not? It could just as easily be one of the students. After al , Liam was the same age as the oldest of them and an assassin would probably have a bet er chance smuggling himself in as a student than he would a member of sta . After al , that had worked for him and Becks. His gaze wandered from face to face, looking for a nervous tic, darting eyes, lips moving in silent prayer, someone clearly agonizing over the precise moment to strike. Becks gently tapped his arm again.

  ‘What now?’ he hissed.

  ‘I am sensing precursor tachyon particles in the vicinity.’

  He looked at her. ‘Uh?’ Their return window wasn’t due yet, not until ten minutes after Chan’s supposed moment of death. That was the arrangement. ‘Are you sure?’

  Becks nodded towards the reactor. ‘There. They are appearing …’ Her eyes widened, and her lids ut ered and blinked rapidly. ‘DANGER!’ she suddenly barked at the top of her voice.

  Howard was almost beside Chan, his nger on the trigger inside his bag ready to pul the smal weapon out and re it at his back. He wanted to be right beside Chan, right next to him, to know as an absolute certainty he wasn’t going to miss. Too much rested on this. Everything rested on this. He was just a couple of yards from him when a on this. He was just a couple of yards from him when a tal girl with distinctive red hair at the back of the knot of students suddenly started shouting.

  Mr Kel y stopped mid-sentence. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘DANGER!’ shouted the girl again, her voice loud and urgent.

  ‘Excuse me, young lady,’ replied Mr Whitmore, ‘this is not the place for some sort of stupid prank!’

  Howard turned to look at the girl.

  Something’s wrong. Someone knows!

  ‘DANGER!’ shouted the girl again, but her nger pointed directly at the reactor, not him. ‘Tachyon interference with the reactor! The reactor wil explode!’

  Howard had no idea what the hel she was on about. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, perhaps she was just some aky goth girl making some sort of a protest against experimenting with zero-point energy. He was with her on that, but now was not the best time. He wasn’t going to be distract
ed. He pushed his way forward towards Chan as the other students began to step back warily from the reactor in response to her outburst.

  At last, standing beside the smal boy, he looked down at him, his nger poised on the trigger, ready to whip the gun out and re.

  Chan turned to look up at him. ‘What’s the girl at the back saying?’

  Howard found himself shrugging. ‘I … uh … I guess she’s having some kinda t.’

  ‘Now stop it!’ snapped Mr Whitmore, pushing his way

  ‘Now stop it!’ snapped Mr Whitmore, pushing his way through the bemused students towards the girl. ‘Nothing is going to explode!’

  Chan grinned up at Howard. ‘Crazy girl, huh?’

  And Howard found himself smiling back at the kid, somehow not quite ready … not quite ready to pul out the gun and re at point blank range. He real y hadn’t expected to be looking down into a friendly face at the very moment he pul ed the trigger on Chan.

  ∗

  Without a warning Becks grabbed Liam roughly by the shoulders and man-handled him back from the reactor towards the walkway leading to the sealed exit.

  ‘Becks! What the hel are you doing? What’s going on?’

  ‘Imminent threat of explosion,’ she said crisply and calmly, and a lit le too loudly. Her voice spooked the other students nearby who quickly began to join them backing away from it.

  ‘Everybody, calm down!’ shouted Mr Kel y. ‘Nothing is going to happen!’

  Liam looked up at Becks. ‘Are you sure it’s going to –?’

  Becks suddenly stopped dragging him. ‘Too late to escape!’ She yanked Liam’s arm downwards to the oor and he dropped to his knees.

  ‘Ouch! What are you doing?’

  She knelt down in front of him and wrapped her arms round his shoulders, shielding him from the reactor. Liam peeked over her shoulder and saw the reactor’s thick metal casing suddenly start to ripple like jel y and a moment casing suddenly start to ripple like jel y and a moment later begin to col apse in on itself.

  ‘What the –?’

  Becks reached out one hand and grabbed his nose painful y. ‘You must lower your head,’ she ordered, yanking him roughly down until he was almost doubled over, his head in her lap. Then al of a sudden he felt the oddest tugging sensation. As if he and Becks and the world around them was being sucked into a gigantic laundry mangler, stretched impossibly thin like elastic strands of spaghet i towards the reactor … fol owing the col apsed metal casing into some inconceivable pinpoint of in nity.