Mind Games (12 page)

There are four questions of value in life
…

What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made?

What is worth living for and what is worth dying for?

Lord Byron

22

I’m shaking.

‘She may be in shock,’ the man says, and hands me a blanket. When I just stare back at him, he tucks it around me. Heywood: he said his name was Heywood. And the girl so pale she doesn’t look quite human is Crystal. She’s a silver Hacker: she got out of the van first, and I glimpsed her silver tattoos, different from any I’ve seen before – like interlocking snowflakes in her skin.

The look she gives me is colder than ice as they argue what to do with me. ‘You shouldn’t have brought her here,’ she hisses, and Heywood draws her further away. Their voices go lower and I can’t hear them any more.

I pull the blanket tighter around and try to stop shaking, to quell the panic inside. Despite Gecko bracing us before the transport crashed, pain has settled into my ribs and chest, and it hurts to breathe. That was no accident, was it?

What is this place? The van drove down unrecognisable dark streets for an age, then through a back gate. Once the gates clanged shut, Heywood pulled me out of the van, not unkindly, down a long garden and through a back door. Outside, under the stars, I kept my face turned away from Crystal, to hide the silver in my own skin. Heywood couldn’t see them; his face is devoid of Hacker marks of either kind, and Gecko said only S’hackers could see them. S’hackers…like
me
? No, it can’t be, it can’t. My thoughts veer away from
that
and back to here.

We went down a flight of stairs; we’re in a basement. It’s sparsely furnished, dimly lit. No windows. Crystal locked the door after us, tucking keys away in her pocket. The air is cold, damp. I sneeze.

Crystal stomps out of the room, and Heywood comes over to the sofa I’m on, pulls up a chair. Gives back my bag that he took earlier. I’d been wearing it across my body so it came with me. Mr Dog is still sticking out of the top, but hind legs up this time: hiding his head in the sand? Good idea.

‘Sorry about that,’ Heywood says. ‘Just had to check for communication devices. Crystal has volunteered to make us some tea,’ he adds. I can hear loud clattering noises as cups are slammed about in the next room. He grins wryly. ‘Well, not so much
volunteered
, exactly. Now. Who are you? Why are you here?’

I stare back at him. ‘I’m here because you kidnapped me.’

An eyebrow goes up. ‘Oh, I see. And here I thought we rescued you. You were wearing our tracker; it was activated, sending a “please rescue me” signal straight to us, you see.’

‘OK, then; perhaps this is all a simple misunderstanding. Just unlock the door, and I’ll be on my way.’

‘I’m afraid things aren’t quite as simple as that.’

Crystal stomps back in, puts a tray of tea things on a table. She perches on the sofa next to me, and I shrink away. Heywood holds out a mug. ‘Go on. It’ll make you feel better.’ But I don’t take it.

He shrugs, puts it down again.

‘What have you done to Gecko?’ Crystal demands. I turn to look at her: palest blue eyes, white, almost translucent skin, but despite that, oddly beautiful. The cold fury in her eyes hides something else; some fear and feeling for Gecko. Ah. Is she a girlfriend? It twists oddly inside to think so.

‘What have
I
done to Gecko? What has he done to me?! I didn’t ask to come here.’

She shrugs impatiently, looks to Heywood. ‘She’s obviously an idiot.’

Heywood shakes his head. ‘Don’t be so fast to judge. Gecko must have sent her to us for a reason; we just have to work out what it is.’ He turns back to me. ‘As soon as we do that, you’re free to go. If you want to,’ he says to me, smiling kindly.

So, it’s good cop, bad cop, is that it? I can play along.

I let my face soften, just a little, and look back at him. ‘I don’t know why I’m here. Perhaps if I knew who you were, I might have a better idea?’

They exchange a glance.

‘Fair comment,’ Heywood says, and when Crystal starts to sputter he raises a hand. ‘You trust Gecko, don’t you?’ he says to her. ‘So trust who he sends to us.’ He turns back to me. ‘I’ll answer your questions if you answer a few of mine, first,’ he says. ‘Deal?’

‘Depends what you ask me.’

He grins. ‘Smart answer, and an honest one. First question: who are you?’

No reason to hold back what he can easily discover. Once the fact that I’m missing hits the news, it’ll be everywhere. ‘I’m Luna Iverson.’

He tilts his head. ‘That name is somehow familiar. Why?’

I shrug. ‘How should I know?’

He unfocuses a moment, comes back. ‘Ah, I see. Daughter of Astra; correct?’

I nod, and Crystal looks at me with something like awe, but it vanishes so fast I’m not sure I saw it.

‘Well. Nice to meet you, Luna. I’m Roy Heywood – generally known as Heywood, as you know. And Crystal you met earlier. Now, how do you know Gecko?’ he asks.

‘We were at the PareCo test centre together. We’re sort of friends.’

Heywood raises an eyebrow. ‘You must be more than just friends to have been sent to us.’

Crystal bristles, and I can feel pink rising in my cheeks. He held me, he kissed me; he said he needed me. Wait: what were his exact words? He said
we need you; I need you
. Is this the ‘we’?

‘Look, I don’t understand why I ended up here. Gecko told me he was a prisoner, that he was being forced to go to Inaccessible Island. I gather that crash tonight was no accident; that you were meant to be his getaway. So why did he send me in his place?’

‘Exactly: that is the question. Gecko hasn’t been able to report to us in detail for some time; his Implant is being monitored. So he used code to activate an emergency plan, but couldn’t tell us everything that has been going on. You must know more than you are letting on, Luna,’ he says.

‘Enough questions; you said you’d answer mine. Who are you? What is this place? What is Gecko involved in?’

‘We’re investigating PareCo.’

‘Who are “we”?’

‘We are…a collection of concerned citizens.’

‘But
why
are you investigating PareCo? Who are you working for?’

‘For the people of the world.’

‘Funny, I don’t remember electing you to look out for everyone. What is your organisation called?’

He half smiles. ‘Not the nicest of names, but we generally call ourselves the Worms. We’re biting the pear that is PareCo, tunnelling into their deceptions, you see.’

‘They’re just a corporation. If you’ve got a problem with them, complain to a consumer watchdog or something.’

‘It’s not that simple. PareCo controls almost every avenue of our lives now, whether you’ve noticed it or not.’

I shift in my seat, wince as I do so.

‘Are you all right?’

I shrug. ‘Just bruises, I think. From the crash.’

‘Look, it’s late. How about you get some sleep? And we’ll talk more tomorrow. Try to work things out.’

I shake my head. ‘No. I don’t want to be here; let me go.’

‘I’m sorry, Luna. We have to figure things out a bit more before we can do that.’ His eyes hold mine, steady, and there is nothing threatening there. He
feels
like a good guy. But if they can’t let me go now, when will they?

‘I want to go home.’ My voice is small, and pathetic, and I hate it. But I
am
tired, hurt, freaked out. Overwhelmed. I just want
home
. Even Sally’s fury and fussing would beat this.

‘I’m sorry, Luna. Really. But even if we did let you go, you’d never make it there. PareCo will be after you now.’

His words sink in, settle. PareCo will think I’m one of them, one of these
Worms
, won’t they? That I was involved in causing that accident; that I disappeared on purpose. No matter that I haven’t done anything.

This is the PareCo that Gecko thinks murdered Jezzamine and Danny. If he’s right, what would they do to me?

Crystal takes me to an adjoining room, a small bed in the corner. Points me to the bathroom when I ask.

I shut the door behind me. There’s a window, high and narrow. No good for escape, but as I splash water on my face, stare in the mirror, I wonder: is there enough starshine leaking in for a hint of silver? I lock the door, and pull the cord to turn off the light. With shaking fingers, I trace the pattern of swirls around my eye.

S’hacker marks.
You’re one of us
, Gecko had said. Spun me around to show me my reflection in broken glass. How could this be? How could I be a S’hacker, like Gecko, like my mother, and not even know it?

There’s a knock on the door, and I jump. How long have I been staring at myself in the mirror?

‘Is everything all right?’ Heywood.

‘I’m fine,’ I say, and put the light back on, and open the door.

He hands me some painkillers, water. I take them, go to the bedroom, lie down, pull the blankets up. There is a click as the door is locked.

Gecko said all he ever wanted was freedom, but he’s led me straight into a prison.

I touch my face in the darkness:
silver
, like Astra? There is pain inside that Gecko kept this from me. How long did he know? I think back to that first night on the balcony with him at the test centre, when the clouds pulled back and stars revealed the silver in his skin. I had his hoodie on, pulled low so he wouldn’t see my tears. That could have hidden the marks; if he did see them then, he didn’t let on. But if only S’hackers can see the silver, he knew
when I asked about his the next day. But he didn’t react, didn’t tell me what my seeing them meant.

Why did I let him convince me to run?
That’s
what got me into this mess; I went along. I didn’t have to, but I did. At least part of it was the shock – of seeing the silver in my own skin – but that wasn’t all of it. I’d wanted to do what he wanted. The realisation makes me angry: angry at myself.

And tonight, Gecko slapped his tracker on my wrist; had me so-called
rescued
in his place. Did he think he was being all heroic and saving me from some danger he sees with PareCo, or is this something else? Unless they are very good actors, Heywood and Crystal didn’t know this was going to happen. They were shocked when it was me instead of Gecko.

And Gecko held me; he kissed me, though so quickly the feel and memory of it is like something I imagined. He said he needs me. Instinct says to trust him; brain says I’m a total dys. What has he got me into? They’re some sort of rebels, aren’t they? Even if they’re wrong about PareCo being after me, I know them now; they can’t just let me go. If I want to get out of here, I have to find another way.

Despite the crazy evening and my twisting, dancing thoughts, the painkillers make sleep draw in fast.

Mummy is next to me on the moon. ‘It’s time to go now, Luna. Spin it all away. You remember how, don’t you?’

I shake my head no. I don’t want to leave, not yet. Not for the falling place.

‘Now, Luna. I know you know how. It’s important. Do you remember why?’

Not waiting for an answer, she puts her arms around me, and jumps off the moon, taking me with her. She sets me down and takes both of my hands in hers, starts spinning me around, faster and faster. When she lets go, my stomach lurches, but I do as she wants – hands outstretched now. Spinning ever faster.

The moon and stars I cast into the sky start to spin, too; they collapse into themselves, smaller and smaller until they spin into the space between my hands. The floor disappears next, and I’m falling, falling, falling…

23

‘Nice. Is he your only friend?’

I open one eye, head heavy, confused, then sit up fast. Crystal stands in the doorway and holds Mr Dog between her hands.

‘Give him back!’ I get up and lunge for her, but she dances lightly away and out of the room. The pain in my chest stops me, makes me want to crumple back into bed. I guess a sudden stop at two hundred miles an hour can do that to a girl.

Heywood looks in and tosses Mr Dog towards me; I catch him.

‘Breakfast will be ready soon,’ he says, and backs out.

When I emerge, Crystal wrinkles her nose. ‘Please shower. There are towels in the bathroom cupboard. Clothes on the chair.’ She points at the door she took me through last night to go to the bathroom.

I notice what I was in too much of a state to register last night. The hall is lined with doors. Four have glass windows, three with a red light over the door: PIPs, occupied. The last PIP is empty. If I plug in, I could find Dad, ask him what to do. I glance back at the door I came through, and try the handle to the empty one. Locked. It was never going to be that easy, was it?

A shower, hot, is very welcome; it eases the soreness enough that I can stand up straighter. But the longer I stay under the jets of hot water, the angrier I get.

My garbled thoughts from last night are starting to take shape. Who do these people think they are, keeping me prisoner? I’m sure they’re wrong about PareCo being after me, but even if they’re right, I could go to the police. Tell them I had nothing to do with that crash; that I wasn’t trying to escape, I was kidnapped. It’s the truth: they’d have to believe me, wouldn’t they? I’ve got to find a way to get out of here.

And Gecko is the worst of them all. I thought he was my friend.
I thought he might be more than a friend
, honesty whispers inside, and that makes me even angrier.
Friends
don’t get you in this much trouble, do they?

I towel myself, rough and fast, and the pain makes the anger sharpen: that is his fault, too. I shrug ill-fitting borrowed clothes on, and head into the hall.

The PIPs are empty now. Are they all locked? I grip a door handle to another one, and it starts to turn. But then the door to the main room opens.

Crystal raises an eyebrow. ‘They’re ID keyed, so if you try to use one you’ll get zapped.’ She smiles and makes a shooting motion at her head. I hold mine high, walk down the hall towards her. She doesn’t move, just stands there blocking the door, staring at me with her weird, pale eyes. I shoulder her out of the way to enter the room. She staggers back and then spins round, fists clenched.

‘Heh there,’ Heywood says, voice mild, but there is a warning look in his eyes aimed at Crystal. She focuses beyond him – at a woman, and two boys about our age, all sat at the table with Heywood – and visibly, reluctantly, relaxes her stance and her fists.

‘Join us?’ Heywood says to me, gestures at an empty chair next to him and opposite the woman: a Hacker, I see now. Extensive black swirls around her eye say of high standing, and that’s not all: she’s old. Older than my dad, maybe. Gecko said you never see old Hackers, and here is one at breakfast.

I hesitate, torn between hunger and wanting to tell them all exactly what I think of things. But if I believe Crystal, the PIPs are ID keyed. The only way to use one is to persuade them to programme it so I can. I force myself to smile, to sit down. Crystal takes a chair at the other end.

‘Some introductions?’ Heywood says, and calls out names, but the only one I hear is Tempo. I can’t tear my eyes away from her, this Hacker across from me: there is something about her.
Silver
: I blink. For a split second I imagined silver all around her black tattoos, as if I’ve seen it there before. Is she a S’hacker, too?

Tempo smiles: a kind smile, somehow familiar. Something about her makes me want to smile back. ‘Luna, I’m
so
happy to see you again,’ she says.

‘Again?’

‘I was a friend of your mother’s. She used to bring you to visit. Do you remember me?’

I’m staring at her and there is something, some tickle of memory inside: a happy memory? But nothing definite. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘Ah, you were very small. Now, have your breakfast. We’ll catch up after.’

There are platters of eggs, bacon, toast passed around, and somehow I’m starving. I busy myself with eating, and watch the others.

Tempo is in charge; that is very clear. Heywood is next, almost like a big brother chiding the others now and then. Crystal and the two boys are about my age; the boys are both Hackers – black tattoo swirls in their skin. Silver hacking status unknown without starshine. They seem uncomfortable at Tempo’s presence.

When breakfast is finished, Heywood sends Crystal and the boys away with the dishes, to a flurry of protests.

Tempo is smiling again as they leave. Like before there is some whisper of memory that says I like her, that she is a friend. ‘Time for talk,’ she says. ‘Come.’

We get up from the table, move to the sofa, Heywood to a chair.

‘Luna, I can’t believe how beautiful you’ve grown. You’re so like your mother: you’ve got her eyes. I was so happy when Heywood called last night to say you were here.’

I shrug, uncomfortable. ‘I’m glad somebody is happy.’

‘Ah, yes. I gather you’d like to go home, but that isn’t possible. I’m sorry, Luna. But if you weren’t here, you’d be off to Inaccessible Island, anyhow – not home.’

‘But I was going there of my own free will,’ I say, stetching the truth. ‘No one asked me if I wanted to come here.’ Despite my best intentions, despite knowing I may need these people on side to ever get out of here, I can’t stop the bitterness in my voice.

‘But did you
really
choose to go there? There are some things you need to know about PareCo, Luna.’

I shrug. ‘They’re just a corporation.’

‘However they started, they’re so much more than that now. They control education; Implants; health care. Every government of the world uses their translation and communications. Their systems control every aspect of society, whether you have noticed it or not. Almost all social interaction these days is virtual and takes place in PareCo-controlled Realtime; everyone holidays in PareCo’s virtual worlds, and plays PareCo virtual games. And the side effects this can have – well… How about the rise in so-called Sudden Teenage Death Syndrome? Teens who plug in at school all day, and play online all night, sometimes die for no apparent reason. It actually results from lack of natural sleep.’

‘But if they knew that, surely they’d stop it.’ I stare at her, shocked. ‘There’s been research into it and stuff; they don’t know what causes it.’

She shrugs. ‘There are recommended plug-in times, but who follows them? Adults are more resilient; younger brains need sleep to rest, recuperate, and grow. Without it they sometimes die. The authorities won’t admit what the cause is for fear of panic, with most of the population of this country and others spending all the time they can in Realtime and games. All run by PareCo.’

‘You could die crossing the road; virtual has got to be safer. And they say street crime is at an all-time low.’

‘Perhaps so, with most of the population plugged in, but what of other crimes? Have you noticed the dying neighbourhoods, the closing schools?’

‘There is a primary that closed near where I live.’

‘Birth rates are dropping. Nobody could be bothered having sex the usual way when virtual is available. Whole areas of the city are dying, then annexed to make bigger gardens for ever-bigger houses: bribes for those who are supposed to be looking out for us.’

And I remember the dark areas around Melrose’s neighbourhood; how hers has grown.

‘And paranoia and psychotic delusions are on the rise. A significant proportion of the population goes mad from prolonged virtual exposure.’

‘But they’re screening them out as MEs now.’

‘Are they, really? Or is that just another way to control people they want to keep an eye on? And what about the increase in Implant addiction? PareCo claims that is from illegal programmes, made by Hackers. But strangely, it seems to happen to anyone who does or says anything PareCo finds…awkward. But leave that aside for the moment; we can’t prove it. Yet. All I’ve said so far is that PareCo has great
opportunity
for misuse of power, happily handed over to PareCo by the governments of the world, to make life easier. To make people placid; to make governing easier. But if people are happy with how things are, if they want them that way, who are we to argue?’

‘I get the feeling there’s more?’

‘Indeed. Implants have been changed without consultation. The newer ones have more capabilities. Not just allowing quicker, better PIP integration, virtual conversations, map apps and so on, which are all known and accepted. Much more than that.’

I stay silent. This I know about: from personal experience at the test centre.

‘It appears to involve the last five years of Implants, so everyone seventeen or under – like Gecko, like Crystal – has the new version. Your year at school was the first affected. Anyone eighteen or older has Implants as they are meant to be, as publicly known. You see, Luna, how PareCo will gain more and more control over everyone, as more and more of the population have the new Implants? Not just in this country. This is global. Somehow we need to be able to show that they are misusing these new Implants, that it isn’t just some equipment upgrade.’

Heywood clears his throat. ‘I’m not sure we’re answering the question we need to answer: why is Luna here?’ And he is looking at Tempo as he says it, but now, suddenly, I think I understand Gecko’s
we need you
.

I don’t want to focus on it, don’t want to say anything: as if words said out loud will make it more real. But somehow they drag themselves out of me. ‘I think I may know why Gecko sent me.’

They’re both looking at me now. I swallow. ‘When Gecko and I were at the test centre, they did a horrible test using Implants. Where everyone – almost everyone, that is – saw gunmen shooting at people; people thought they were shot, that they were dying. Gecko thought it was real. I’m a Refuser so haven’t got an Implant; I couldn’t see any of it. There were just two others that somehow could tell they weren’t real, that they were Implant images. And then, after we all went home, they both died.’

And I tell them about Jezzamine and Danny. As I say the words, I realise how foolish I’d been to deny Gecko’s conclusions. I didn’t want to believe it, but their deaths
couldn’t
be coincidence.

Heywood’s eyes mirror the shock in mine. He turns to Tempo. ‘So: some are resistant, and they’re being eliminated. And we have the only witness who can talk about it.’ They both turn to me. ‘And that is why Gecko saved you, and sent you here,’ he says.

‘That was the real reason for the test we had, wasn’t it?’ I say. ‘To screen out those who could somehow withstand the new Implants. And get rid of them.’

‘Luna, why do you think you were going to Inaccessible Island in the first place?’ Tempo says. ‘You have dangerous knowledge. They know it. They were never going to let you go.’

‘So let’s go to the police. Murder was still a crime last time I checked. Tell them what PareCo are doing, let them – and the government – handle it.’

‘If only it were that easy. They’re not playing by the rules, Luna, so neither can we. And what about Gecko? He may have given up his freedom for yours.’

‘What will they do to him if they catch him?’ I ask, voice small.

‘We don’t know for sure. They seem to want him for something; if they wanted to make him disappear, they could have done that by now.’ But there is worry in her eyes. ‘We don’t even know where he is. He’s not answering messages. He may not be able to, or he may be avoiding using his Implant as it’ll allow PareCo to trace his location. Another bonus in the new generation of Implants.’

He may not be able to
: another accident? The anger I had against Gecko before is gone. Maybe he really did save me. And if I hadn’t resisted, if we’d got away faster, he might be here now, too.

‘And you say you are a Refuser, Luna, but you’ve been in the void recently. It’s in your eyes.’

‘Gecko took me.’ But is that the whole truth? Gecko wondered if he’d sent the ladder and arrows the last time just by thinking about me, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe I did it myself, because I’m a
S’hacker
. The word sounds funny connected to me, even not said out loud.

Tempo raises an eyebrow as if she knows there is more, but says nothing.

‘Wait a minute. Why don’t I go and look for him, see if he is all right?’

‘Look for him? Where?’ Heywood says.

‘About the last thing Gecko said to me was to meet him in the void,’ I say. ‘Let me plug in, and I’ll go and ask him.’

‘I could get you into the void, but it is infinite. How would you find him?’ Tempo says.

I hesitate.
Does she know what I am?
‘I’ve done it before,’ I say.

‘We’d have to know you won’t contact anyone through Realtime,’ Heywood says. ‘If you do, PareCo will know you are there and try to trace you. Can we trust you?’

Tempo shrugs. ‘I’d accept a promise not to.’

‘Let me plug in and see if I can find him. I won’t try to contact anyone else,’ I say, unsure as I say it if this is a lie or the truth.

Her head tilts to one side; thinking? Then she shakes her head. ‘We’ll think this through and discuss our options, tonight.’

It’s a quiet afternoon for me and Crystal. Everyone is busy, and she is assigned the task of watching me. She isn’t happy about it.

‘Just lock me in the bedroom already. I don’t care.’

She shakes her head. ‘Tempo might. For some reason she felt it necessary to tell me to not be mean to you.’ She sighs, and scowls. ‘Also to answer any questions you may have.’

‘Really?
Any
questions?’ I think for a moment, and then
all
the questions start tumbling out. ‘What is this place, this house? Who is here, why are they here? What does everyone do? What—’