Read The Beast of Seabourne Online

Authors: Rhys A. Jones

Tags: #The Beast of Seabourne

The Beast of Seabourne (26 page)

S and S looked from Oz to Soph. They both nodded.

“Does she always glow?” Sydney asked.

“No,” Oz said. “Only if she wants to, or if it's dark. But sometimes, her eyes sort of light up when she's doing stuff.”

Soph walked over and put a holo-finger on the screen. She glowed brighter for a few seconds. “Data file found. Would you like me to replay?”

“Yes, please,” Oz said.

The room was suddenly filled with a faint rustling, the noise of distant traffic, and a dog barking, the sort of noises that intruded if you answered your mobile phone outside. Then they heard Heeps' treacly voice, sounding very pleased with itself.

“Meecher, listen. You need to pay a visit to this Bendle. He's an antique dealer out near Bog Sturgess. Shouldn't be hard to find.”

There was a gap as Meecher, whoever he was, responded. Heeps laughed unpleasantly.

“Don't care. Do what you have to. JG wants to know.”

More silence while Heeps listened again. Then Heeps chuckled deeply.

“Never mind how I know. We have our sources, and this little nugget comes right from the horse's mouth. We know those meddling kids visited him and they had a hard time of it.” More chuckling. “They can't do anything anymore without one of them spilling the beans.”

Another pause and then, “I'll wait to hear.” Silence was followed by hurried footsteps and a click as the connection was terminated.

“That was all we heard,” Sydney said, but it barely registered with Oz. A cold, hollow space had opened up in his insides, and he was trying desperately to put together the meaning of what he'd just heard. What had Heeps meant when he'd said, “
without one of them spilling the beans
”?

“Can Soph do other stuff?” asked Sydney.

“Oh, loads,” Oz said, still thinking about spilled beans. “I mean, if you ask her, she'll come up with words like ‘neural interfacing architecture' and ‘spin ice nanomagnet arrays,' which means not a lot to me. I mean, she can't be used as a weapon or read other people's minds—except mine—or predict the future and stuff. So, she doesn't laugh at my jokes much because she's a machine. Ruff, being Ruff, has made a ‘What we know so far' list that we can all understand. He's spent hours working all this out. Look, why don't I show you? Soph?”

Instantly, a projected holoscreen appeared in midair in Ruff's handwriting.

Soph's Rules (SO FAR) by Ruff Adams

FACTS (from Soph)

50 yottahertz nanomagnetic processor with holographic interface.

Genlink Control.

Power source: 175k watt-hour electron-capture nano-cap reactor.

Basic Standby security aware functionality.

What it means!

1/ Mega-fast supercomputer with cool girl avatar interactive operating system.

2/ Only Oz can switch her on for higher functions via DNA genlink.

3/ Has a low-energy nuclear reactor power source which can be charged up by lightning!

4/ Will record everything in vicinity in standby so long as camera lens is exposed.

5/ When awake and neuro-linked to activator can Panvis record what activator sees and playback as 3D holotrack.

6/ Will respond to anyone else that has permission from Activator (Oz).

The Brill stuff!

7/ Interact with any electronic device.

8/ Total Wi-Fi access to all Internet and computers linked to it.

9/ Self-protection tutamenzon field. She can't be harmed. Can project field around vicinity of base unit and therefore user. Will only work for person holding pebble.

10/ Cannot be used as weapon.

11/ Persistent direct attacks on base unit/activator triggers amnestic deflection—short-term memory wipe—but only within a few yards of base unit.

12/ Can project holoshields and play any film ever made, in 3D!! See Fangman 1 and 2—awesome!

13/ Can provide sublimserts—memory inserts while user is asleep. Great for Death Planet Hub cheats.

14/ Neural link facility via the ceramic ring (missing) allowing remote function.

15/ Accessory hard drive in memsource (pendant).

16/ Tracking and surveying functions (see tricorder).

17/ Allows user to imitate anyone else's voice

(mimtate).

18/ Instant language translation..

19/ Can recall exact user memory when linked.

20/ Deprogramming and higher function accessed through direct contact.

“Wow,” Sydney said.

“And that's just the start. He's still working on it.”

“What's Panvis?”

“It's this way she has of recording stuff so you can see from all angles. She calls it reflective omnivision.”

S and S were both smiling in delight. Then one of them frowned.

“Is Ruff ill?” Savannah said suddenly.

“What?” Oz said, surprised by her question.

“Is he ill?” she repeated. “We usually play Death Planet Hub with him at least twice a week, but he hasn't been online for ages.”

S and S were world experts at Death Planet Hub, which happened to be one of Ruff ‘s favourite games, too.

“Uh, no, don't think so,” Oz said. “I wouldn't say he's been his usual jolly self lately, but I don't think he's ill.”

S and S both nodded. “Maybe his dad's clamped down on him using the computer, then. He said it might happen.”

“Did he?” Oz said in a slightly confused voice. He stared at her. Ruff had said nothing about his dad clamping down on anything to him, but she was expecting him to say something. “Uh, maybe his machine's playing up. You know how it is,” he muttered.

The girls nodded, but Oz detected the ghosts of frowns on their faces. There were two expensive desktops as well as the pink laptop within ten yards of where Oz was standing, and he knew Savannah also had her own purple laptop. The concept of not being able to go online because of one broken computer would not be one S and S were very familiar with.

“Can we ask Soph some more questions?” Savannah asked.

Oz nodded and watched as S and S started probing Soph with the most bizarre questions he'd ever heard. He wasn't really listening, because his mind was desperately trying to unravel everything he'd just heard. He needed time to think. Knowing it was going to sound corny but not knowing what else to do, he made a big show of looking at his watch.

“Wow, is that the time? Said I'd be back by seven. Mum's making lasagne.” He got up quickly. “Thanks for having me over and letting me practise.”

They both tilted their heads in opposite directions and smiled. “Thanks for telling us all about Soph,” Savannah said brightly.

“And for letting us see her,” Sydney added.

“We knew that you and Ellie and Ruff were up to something, but we didn't know what.” Savannah's eyes sparkled.

“Now we do. And we'll help…if you like?”

Oz nodded enthusiastically. “It would be brilliant if you could keep an eye on Heeps and Gerber. Let me know if you hear them saying anything…you know…anything weird.”

The twins smiled. Together, they said, “We like weird.”

Oz turned to Soph. “We'd better go.”

Instantly, she disappeared. The twins saw him out and stood on the doorstep to watch him leave. Oz thanked them one final time and turned toward the gate, to barely avoid a man in a fawn trench coat who was bustling along the path, head down in distracted thought. Just at the last moment, the man looked up, and Oz recognised the coiffured hair and the neat beard immediately.

Lorenzo Heeps didn't look his usual well-groomed self at all. His face was drawn and grey, the tie at the collar of his blue striped shirt awry. For a second, their eyes met, and Oz saw something move behind Heeps' normally calculating gaze. It was just a momentary flash, but Oz could have sworn he'd seen panic flare there.

“Sorry,” Oz said as he sidestepped to avoid Heeps.

“No, my fault. Not looking. Lot on my mind.” Heeps' tone was awkward and hesitant. Not at all like the brash confident plotter Oz was used to.

“How's Phillipa?” Oz asked.

“Phillipa?” Heeps frowned, surprised by Oz's question. Then his gaze focused and recognition dawned. “You,” he blurted. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“Joke? No…uh, I saw her leaving school in an ambulance.”

Heeps peered at Oz, searching his face as if for another meaning. Oz took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any. “Look, the school…they think I did something to Phillipa.”

Heeps face had become almost comically quizzical as he tried to understand what Oz was saying.

“Miss Swinson…she sort of blames me for everything anyway. She blames me for what happened to Phillipa, but it wasn't me.”

Heeps' expression had now changed into confused irritation. “Of course it wasn't you. How could it be you?”

Now it was Oz's turn to blink in confusion. Agreement was the last thing he'd expected. They'd done a sort of pirouette in the path such that Oz was now facing the front door of Number 3, where he could see S and S watching them avidly. “Uh…exactly. How could it be me?” Oz said, quickly grasping this new little twist with both hands. “I mean, I know me and Phillipa don't get on that well, but…”

“Just bad luck on her part,” muttered Heeps, lapsing again into preoccupation. “Could have been much worse. Frightens easily, does Phillipa.”

“I suppose,” Oz said, frowning again.

Heeps seemed to be largely talking to himself now, as if Oz's questions had somehow unzipped the top of his head and allowed the thoughts preoccupying him to emerge unchecked. “So many people in a school that size. Accidents can happen…”

There was a sudden noisy clearing of a throat from behind Oz. He snapped his head around.

A spindly man dressed in a midnight-black coat was standing just inside the gate. The coat was unbuttoned over a waistcoated suit of the same colour and a peculiar high-collared white shirt. He held a long, thin cane in one hand and wore an old-fashioned fedora on his head. Beneath was an expressionless face caught in the low evening sunlight, the skin unnaturally taut except for around his hollow, dark-rimmed eyes, where thousands of lines radiated away from his orbs like rays from two black, glittering suns. And those eyes were staring right past Oz at Heeps, who, on hearing the throat-clearing, had frozen. When Oz glanced back at him, he saw an expression of stricken terror on Heeps' face. There was a stretched-out silence while the two men regarded one another. It was broken only when Jack Gerber began striding briskly along the path.

Oz stood to one side as Gerber passed, and it looked as if he would be ignored. At the last moment, Gerber paused abruptly, swivelled his head, and threw Oz a piercing glare loaded with such contempt and anger and malevolence, Oz was sure he heard the hair on the back of his neck prickle. Gerber deftly grabbed the cane in his left hand and put his right hand on its yellowed ivory head.

Oz caught a glimpse of a red jewel nestling in the crown of the handle before there was a click and a flash of silver as something slid from the wooden cane shaft.

From near the front door, Heeps gasped. The noise drew a jerky glance from Gerber. When he looked back at Oz, the glittering malevolence had been replaced by a calculating sneer. Oz heard another click as the ivory head of the cane slid back into its metal collar. Gerber swung his gaze away and started walking again, striding toward Heeps, so the smaller man had to step aside and look up as Gerber leaned in.

Although Oz could only just hear Gerber's rasping voice, there was no mistaking the words that emerged or the furious, whispered reproach they contained.

“We have business here. Though it is very tempting to do otherwise, we will ignore the brat.” He glanced back at Oz and muttered loud enough this time to ensure Oz heard. “His fate is already written.”

Heeps snapped out of whatever mental fog he was in. He looked at Oz as if seeing him for the first time, and Oz thought he saw
something
wash over his face, like someone wiping clean a blackboard. But the emotional turmoil inside was still trying to push through. Heeps' confusion had gone, but in its place was something else. Was that a pang of guilt that suddenly dragged down the corners of his mouth? Regardless, Oz's impression lasted for mere seconds before Heeps turned and followed Gerber.

In the doorway, S and S were suddenly yanked back by an effusive Mrs Fanshaw, who welcomed her guests inside. Neither Heeps nor Gerber gave Oz another backwards glance, but when both men had disappeared from view, Sydney stuck her head around the front door and pretended to stick a finger down her throat in a gesture that required no interpretation.

When Oz got back to Penwurt, he went straight to the library, because his mind was doing cartwheels. He couldn't forget the way Gerber had looked at him as their paths crossed. More than venomous, more than disdainful, it was more like viciously hateful. Oz knew Gerber would quite happily have paid over the odds for Penwurt, and knowing Oz had been instrumental in scuppering his plans for acquiring it might go some way to explain the way Gerber had acted. Yet that didn't explain the menacing hostility that Oz had sensed oozing from the man's gaze.

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