Tag - A Technothriller (35 page)

“But that’s all we have. The birth register in Byron Bay shows Mark Anthony Zumar on the 23rd of September 2075, and then there’s Sir Thomas’s registering of my birth in Glasgow which shows my birth as being registered on the 29th of October 2075, thirty-six days later. Then there’s my entire upbringing within the auspices of the Oliver Foundation. Wait a minute. That is one possible avenue. The Oliver Foundation. What if I’m not the only one? What if Sir Thomas has killed the parents of other children?”

Mariko pursed her lips together and nodded her head. “Go on.”

“The Oliver Foundation was started with me. I mean he founded it the year of my birth and the year of the death of my fictional parents, his brother and step-sister. But it has spread. They are on every continent except the Poles and in every major metropolis. What if there are other Jonahs? And what is he really doing with the Oliver Foundation? It’s for gifted children only, so doesn’t that define them as Hawks, or at least a breeding ground for potential Hawks. Hawks started with families right? Passing it down from one generation to the next, father to son and daughter. Sir Thomas has no family but he has the Oliver Foundation, right. What if he’s using children from there as his branch of the family?”

“Cochran was Oliver Foundation you know.”

“No. I didn’t know that. How do you know that?”

“Just SOE gossip. I was talking with a colleague about her being wounded in the bomb and he mentioned it.”

“I could visit the foundation under the guise of doing the memoir. I mean the home where I was raised, it was the first of the orphanages. I could dig around in my birth records and try to identify other ex-Oliverans.”

Mariko shook her head. “No it would take too long, and what if you do identify others like you? You have no way of knowing if they’re Hawks or not. Stick with Bardsdale. That seems like the best course of action for now.”

It made sense. We were running out of time and to try to convince others without knowing where their loyalties lay was too dangerous. At least if I got close enough to Bardsdale, it could lead me to being more trusted by Sir Thomas and hopefully induction into the Hawks. At least it was a direction to move forward in. I nodded.

“Agreed.”

“I’ll get closer to Cochran. You know I helped her the night of the bombing?”

I shook my head. I had no idea.

“I was the first team member to get to her. Patched her up. Anyway, I’ll also ask her to assign me as your personal bodyguard. In light of the bombing she might agree.”

“Be very careful, OK. She’s telepathic. When you’re with her, don’t think about anything other than what you want her to know. Best would be to think about impressing her and what a brave woman she is. What do you think about that? Was she seriously wounded?”

“No, minor wounds only and the rumor mill has it that a call to her Devstick from her partner Sunita Shido saved her life.”

“Do you think that was coincidence?”

“No, not for a sec. I think the whole thing was intricately planned, and perfectly timed, but it still takes a special kind of woman to walk into a bomb.”

“What about this Martine Shorne, the high-level UNPOL officer who is now on the Most Wanted list right under Gabriel? They’re saying she’s a high-level subversive, and used a booby-trapped Devstick as the bomb?”

“They found her prints on fragments of a Devstick. She’s disappeared and they’ve charged her with being absent from her post for now. Nothing more than that. She used to work with Flederson. The rumor is that he approved and supported her transfer from Large Commercial Crimes unit into Deep Trace. In there she’d have had access to everything. I suspect we just found out who our allies were.”

“You mean Shorne and Flederson?”

“Yes, but they’re no use to us now. One’s in a coma in deep regen. He’s a complete wreck of a human. Lost both legs, burst ear drums, collapsed lungs, ruptured intestines and over fifty fragment wounds. It’s amazing he’s still alive but he isn’t going anywhere for at least a year. Shorne has gone to ground. No sign. Her team were questioned and one of my guys was the guard. They haven’t got a clue what’s going on. Of course it’s possible that she’s already dead.”

I looked down into the dark of the pool. My reflection shimmered in the water. Mariko’s danced and twisted beside mine, the light of the Devstick between us a wavy shaft of white.

“There’s something else that we haven’t explored, but I can’t think of a way to do it without arousing suspicion.”

“What?”

“Bo Vinh and my father had friends. They must have. Some of those friends may still be alive. Sir Thomas couldn’t have killed them all.”

“Yes, and?”

“Well, we might find support there, that’s all. Some of those friends may be in positions of influence and power. Considering the two men, we could say that it is likely that their friends would be their peers and as such share their sentiments. If we could find out who they were, they may be willing to help us.”

“Have you started work on it yet?”

“What?”

“The memoir. I mean he’s going to ask to see what you’ve done at some point.”

“You’re right. No, I haven’t, but he hasn’t put a timeframe on it yet either.”

“Why don’t you suggest one – the Tag Law, March the 15th. What more suitable date to gain maximum exposure for his memoirs could there be than that. But if you suggest such an early date then you’ll need to convince him you’re making rapid progress. How many words is a memoir?”

“Varies but commonly between eighty and one hundred thousand.”

“That’s a lot of words to put together in a short time.”

“Yes it is. Moving up the timeframe is a good idea though. It’ll make my immediately poking around his past more acceptable if we’re on a tight timeline. Give me more freedom to move. I’ll just have to get on with it and start drafting the memoir. Show that to Sir Thomas and hope he sees the need for me to go and see the first orphanage.”

“That’s our plan then. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

Mariko held a clenched fist out in front of me. I put my lips to her fist and kissed it softly.

“Not like that. You’re supposed to thump the top of it with your fist. It’s what we do in SOE each time before we go into action.”

“Oh please, I prefer my way. Yours is just a bit too rah rah for me.”

“Rah rah. All right, have it your own way but out there you’re going to need clenched fist not soft kiss. OK?” She fixed me with a stern look made hard by the harsh light and softened by the smile stalking around the corners of her mouth.

“Yes ma’am.”

***

I looked at the time on Devscreen. It was 10:30am. Since coming back from our swim, I’d worked steadily on the outline and had what I thought was a passable concept. As I’d discussed with Sir Thomas, I planned to tie his life into the most significant major global events that had shaped it. Or perhaps that he had shaped? A quick search online of EarthLog, the major online database of factual events, gave me a list of the major events that had occurred in the last seventy-five years. 2035 to the present day. I noticed there was already an entry for the bombing of the UNPOL Executive Club.

Within each of these ten year periods, I filled in major events. There wasn’t much to write about the early years but perhaps that could focus on his parents. He was the second child and born when his mother was in her early forties. His father fifty. The next decade dealt primarily with the war and its aftermath. His court martial, exoneration and later posting to New Boston to manage a refugee camp.

From 2066, we have the rise of One Nation and the global PopVote comes into full existence, TBO transfers from the military to UNPOL. In the early years, he is inducted as a Senior Officer Grade 3, equivalent to his rank of Captain in the military. And at the very end of the decade we have his rise through the ranks and the assassination of Bo Vinh on the 1st January 2075.

The latter years were a bit sparse for major events but I pulled in things like the Australasian Travway and Vactubes being built. These could be tied into greater movement of peoples and the whole ‘we are a village’ concept that Bo Vinh espoused through his book, ‘One Nation’. I could link that back into the present day and Sir Thomas needing to close off the village to protect its inhabitants.

The whole time I was working on this I was also thinking about what kind of alternate history Sir Thomas really had. For instance in 2075 I knew he had killed my parents, stolen me and formed the Oliver Foundation, but what else had he really done. Was it possible that he was responsible for killing Bo Vinh? Was Bo Vinh’s replacement, Ted Hughes, really a puppet of Sir Thomas? Was it possible to manipulate the Secretary General of the UN? I sat back in my chair thinking about that one. Was it possible? Sure everything’s possible but was it likely that Bo Vinh’s replacement as Secretary General could be manipulated? Possible. Suppose Sir Thomas or other Hawks had incriminating evidence used to blackmail and corrupt him. Anyway, useless to speculate but worth the time to take a look at the lineage of Secretary Generals since Bo Vinh’s time.

I chopped, changed and added to what I had until I was satisfied with it. It looked real. The three hours of effort that I’d put into it was worth it. I picked up my Devstick.

“Get me Sir Thomas, please.”

Sir Thomas’s image came up. I studied his face for signs of the evil that I knew was there. His eyes were small, his head nearly bald, kept close shaven. Once more it struck me how unlike my uncle I looked. Why didn’t I ever question that?

The Devstick said, “I’m sorry, but Sir Thomas is offline at this time. Please send your message to his inbox, and he will get to it in due course.”

I went back to the Dev on the table and began to package up more coherently what I had written and collected as the outline for his memoir. If I was going to send it to him, it had to be in a format that would pass inspection. I got into it and the document was taking shape well when the Devstick on the table buzzed and vibrated nearer to my hand. I picked it up and saw that it was a call from Sir Thomas.

“Jonah, sorry I couldn’t take your call. Things are little bit hectic at the moment, what with one thing and another.”

“Yes Uncle, no problem. I was just wondering when we might get together. I’ve been working away on the outline to your memoir since we played golf and I’d like you to review it for direction before I go any further.”

“Oh yes. I see. Well all right, uhm, perhaps we could get together this evening. Would that be convenient?”

“Well actually I was thinking of taking a trip, and I was hoping to get going today so that I can be back in time for the weekend with Mariko.”

“I see. Where are you planning on going?”

“I want to travel to the locations where the major events in your life occurred. I’ve finished quite a detailed overview of all the significant events tied into a timeline of your life. Beginning with your birth - in fact going back beyond that to the latter lives of your parents, Sir Humphrey and Lady Oliver - and up to the present day. Perhaps I could just send it to you and if you feel it’s the right direction. I’ll start visiting the places I mention in the outline.”

“Right. That makes sense. It isn’t too long is it? I’m awfully busy at the moment.”

“No, Uncle, it isn’t long, and it’s pretty straightforward. What you’d expect. The war, the forming of the nation, Bo Vinh’s assassination, Oliver Foundation, your rise in UNPOL and then for the last part I want to focus on the Tag Law.”

“Yes, that sounds all right. Send it over and I’ll have a look over it.”

“I just sent it to you.”

“Yes, I’ve got it. Hold on a moment and let me quickly scan it.”

I waited while he read the file that I’d sent him. I could see that he was reading something – his lips were moving. I kept my silence. He turned and looked out of my Devscreen face on again.

“Yes, that seems fine. Good job. I’m looking forward to reading it. That’s quite a trip you’re planning there, Jonah. London, Paris, New Boston.”

“Yes, well I was hoping that you’d like the outline. I should be back before the weekend.” Sir Thomas smiled at me through the Devscreen. I smiled back.

“Good. Well safe travels then.”

“There was one other thing I wanted to clear with you?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking about meeting with Annika Bardsdale. It might help. You know, get a feel for the strength of their case.”

“Will she meet with you? She must be aware that you are my nephew, and of my support for Tag.”

“Well, she knows I’m an arbitrator and if I pitch it that you and I are not totally in agreement on the Tag Law then I think she might be intrigued enough to at least meet me.”

Sir Thomas leaned back in his Siteazy, his hands folded over his stomach. He looked directly at the camera. I thought I might have pushed it too far. My thoughts scrambled for something to say that would convince him, but he interrupted.

“Yes, that might be useful. But are you sure you want to do that?”

“It’s worth a try isn’t it? If they’ve got something in the wings she might give it away.”

“You feel pretty strongly about this Tag Law then?”

“I know how important it is to you and, as I told you on the golf course, I’m for it although I haven’t broadcast that fact.”

Sir Thomas smiled at my words. I thought I might have overdone it but he seemed convinced. I smiled back.

“Goodbye then, Uncle. I’ll be in touch as soon as I return.”

“Goodbye, Jonah. Safe travels.” And his image disappeared from the screen of my Devstick.

***

The Lev to London had been tiring, crowded and noisy, when travelers had joined the Express Lev at the stop in Paris for the last fifteen minutes. The final leg of the trip to London.

Tossing my beach bag on an overstuffed ancient chair next to the large double sleeper, I sat down and thought about the call I had to make. Annika Bardsdale, head of the Social Responsibility Party. Not a major party but still with significant numbers. More of a leverage player in large Popvotes, able to swing their followers’ voting to one cause or another and thereby keeping themselves as a fulcrum in politics. They mostly campaigned on green issues and civil rights.