Moodily, Abigail took it off, scrunched it up and flung it into a corner of the room. That, she decided, was enough of that!
Twenty minutes later, showered and again in her Sparmy fatigues, Abigail bunged a burger meal into the Poppity-Ping.
When she turned, Cathy was there, dressed in sloppy pyjamas and rubbing her head.
“Wow!” she yawned and stretched. “That was some party.”
“Yeah.” Abigail looked at her. “I don’t know why you’re looking a mess. You’re just a computer.”
“I am not,” said the VF, “a computer.” She grinned fetchingly. “I’m a program with attitude.”
“Huh.” Abigail shrugged her shoulders, unimpressed. She clapped her hands. “Cathy go!”
But Cathy didn’t go. Suddenly her hair was in a neat bun and she was wearing glasses. To complete the official, scientific look she was wearing a white coat and had a small tablet in her hand. “Training,” she said, "will start tomorrow.” Then she giggled, breaking the stern demeanour. “But if you want to give it a try this afternoon, fine by me.”
“I told you to go.” Abigail turned her back and took out her burger. “I have to think about things.” She took a massive bite and stood there munching.
“OK! OK!” Cathy appeared to be waiting for something. There was a small scratching sound from the door. “Ah! That’s George. I’d let him in if I were you.” Then she vanished.
The scratching sounded more persistently. Abigail went to the window and squinted along the side of the building.
A small, fluffy and friendly looking white dog was outside, scratching at the door.
Abigail was used to dogs. They were everywhere on the streets, many feral, many dangerous. But not this dog. This dog was the most harmless looking dog Abigail had ever seen.
When she opened the door, he strolled in as if he had every right to be there. Abigail couldn't help smiling, he looked so friendly. She held out her hand, palm first. George ambled over, gave her a sniff and a wag of his short pom-pom of a tail.
"Hello George." Her smile turned into a grin.
George looked up at her, expectantly. Abigail scratched him under the chin. His fur was soft to the touch. George closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them and again looking hopeful.
And Abigail understood. She broke off a bit of burger and tossed it to him. George took one bite and the morsel vanished.
Then another hopeful look.
Abigail tore off another bit. "Are you hungry George? Or just greedy?" This time, she tossed it over to the side. George scampered after it and in seconds it had gone.
Then he came back, but he was too late. Abigail had crammed the rest of the burger into her mouth and was chewing furiously. She held out her hands to show they were empty and said, somewhat indistinctly, "all gone!"
George looked disappointed. Then he jumped onto a chair, curled up and appeared to fall asleep.
“He’s really David’s dog," said Cathy’s voice, "but he thought George could help in your training.”
In spite of herself, Abigail said, “how?”
“Well..” Cathy popped into view “.. one theory is your Special talent might be to do with animals. Isn’t he adorable.”
Abigail twiddled one of George’s ears. Big black eyes looked contentedly up at her for a moment. He was indeed adorable. And then Abigail had had enough. Too much stuff was happening. Since meeting David Mentmore it had been one thing after another. She had to slow down, to think and take stock. Maybe even chat it through. But not with Cathy. After all, Cathy was no more than a program with attitude!
She looked at the VF. “Network me with my friends.”
“Sure.” Cathy waved her arm and, seemingly from the end of her fingers, icons appeared, floating in the middle of the room. “Which one?”
They were all there. The rather motley collection of people she knew. Some she trusted, most she did not. Many were only there because she owed them favours. Others because they owed her. Life in the streets was a constant black market in favours owed, favours received. Your life depended on a complex web of connections and obligations.
Seeing them there, perhaps 20 out of a population of over 15 million, made Abigail realise how small and furtive her existence had been. Then she grunted and said, as she always knew she would, “Spiker.”
The icon representing Spiker grew into an image and then solidified and in a moment it was almost as if he were standing there, complete with short greying hair, tattoos and stubble.
He looked grumpy.
“Yo, Spiker!” said Abigail.
“Yeah,” said Spiker. He scratched himself and yawned. “How’s life in the Sparmy?”
In Abigail’s head, alarm bells started ringing. She had not told him about joining the Sparmy. She’d told no-one.
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s good.” She grinned self-deprecatingly. “Hey, I’ve joined a special unit!”
“No way!” Spiker seemed impressed.
“They say I’ve Special powers.”
“Oh yeah? What?”
“Dunno yet. Working on it.”
They talked some more, and then Abigail terminated.
'That wasn’t Spiker,’ she thought as she turned away. ‘That was just a holo. Cathy was lying to me.' Abigail took a breath and kept her face neutral. As Cathy had lied, she wasn't to be trusted. And Spiker had taught her never to let someone know you didn't trust them.
So casually, she said, “It looks too hot to go out." She picked George up, sat down and arranged him on her lap. He was warm and soft. "Show me a vid.”
"Sure! Great idea!" The VF waved her hand and a cascade of small holo-boxes appeared, each one containing dramatic scenes. "What d'you want?" One holo-box became bigger and closer than the others. Two holo-actors were walking hand in hand along a beach, with a large red sun setting over the sea. "Romance?"
Abigail shook her head. She didn't really want to see anything in particular; she just needed space to think. But not romance. Romance was just too boring.
Another Holo-box. The top of a snowy mountain, with a golden dragon taking off. "This," said Cathy, "is one of my favourites. Dragon attack!" The dragon was now breathing fire as it circled down towards a V-City.
Abruptly, Abigail spoke. "Have you got anything set in the streets?"
"Sure" said Cathy. The dragon vanished. The holo-boxes blinked out, leaving just one, which grew until it had taken over half the room. "This one," Cathy lowered her tone, "Is really scary! You up for it?"
"Sure." Abigail ran her fingers through the fur on George's back. The holo-box became filled with a typical street scene. A vendor grilling skinned rats, a spindly boy carrying two buckets of water, a shifty looking man lurking in a doorway.
"It's really good," said Cathy. A virtual chair appeared. Cathy sat on it. A cat appeared on her lap. "Look! We've both got pets! Isn't this cosy!"
Abigail sighed. She didn't want her thinking interrupted by constant chatter. She clapped her hands. "Cathy go!"
Cathy, the cat and the chair vanished as if they had never been.
'Maybe,' thought Abigail, 'she's learning to do what she's told.' But she didn't believe it. She settled down, seemingly absorbed by the vid, but in reality trying to work out what was going on, and what she should do next.
Chapter 6: Tom Boyd
David wandered into the monitoring centre. The technician was leaning back, watching an array of V-Screens. On one of them Abigail could be seen watching a 3D vid.
“Anything new?”
“Nah. Not really.” the technician grimaced before adding, “she wanted networking with a friend. The one called Spiker.”
“So?”
“We only have an image. No AI. His cloud presence is small.” The technician shifted uncomfortably. “So I busked it.”
David leant over to see the nearest V-Screen more clearly. “Show me.”
The short conversation between Abigail and Spiker was shown. It seeme
d OK. Maybe they had got away with it.
“Listen.” David’s voice was terse and authoritative. “If she wants to contact someone and we don’t have the right artificial Intelligence, stall and get hold of me.”
“Yes sir!” came the response. David bit his lip, then went out.
* * *
The vid, in spite of Cathy's warning that it was 'really scary,' wasn’t frightening in the least. But that wasn't important. Abigail sat with George on her lap. Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t watching. Her headache was clearing and she was thinking back. David Mentomore. The StarStriker. Cathy. The P-Suit. The party. George. The Spiker holo. It was almost as if events were being orchestrated. Abigail frowned. Her instincts had told her not get into the flyer with David Mentmore. Probably, she should have listened.
In the holo-box a Have couple were now walking down a gently curving V-City street. They were well dressed and nervous. Some twenties were lurking in the background. It all looked pretty standard. The Haves broke into a run and the twenties started after them. Quite soon a fight would breakout and the good guys, whoever they were, would win.
A standard plot Abigail had seen many times.
And then, suddenly, the vid became static and two dimensional, almost like a painting. Everything stopped moving. The E-Actors became immobile, frozen in mid-stride. The colours dimmed and changed, the light flickering into murkiness. Abigail frowned. At home, in the streets, vids often broke down, but she hadn't expected it here. Not when they had P-Suits and VFs!
She was about to clap her hands and summon Cathy when the E-Actor closest to her started moving. In little jerks, almost as if he were resisting an invisible force, he turned towards her. One side of his face was missing and his remaining eye was open, unblinking and staring straight at her. It was as if he had come alive, and saw her.
Scary? Abigail found her throat was dry and her hands shaking. This was unlike anything she'd seen before. This was wasn't just a vid breaking down, this was something else entirely.
And, for a moment, time seemed to stop. The E-Actor was now facing her, his one eye large and staring. And then, slowly, as if it needed oiling, his mouth opened.
The E-Actor said ‘Abigail, read this!’
It was impossible. Astounded, Abigail felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand out. She blinked and shook her head. When she opened them again, the E-Actor was leaning right over her, as if he had stepped out of the holo-box. This could not be happening. But it was.
His mouth was moving. Dimly she heard the words. Again he was saying, more urgently this time, ‘Abigail, read this!’
Abigail forced her eyes away from him and looked down. In his hand was a small V-Screen. With writing. She forced herself to read.
It said
‘Abigail. Trust no-one. You are always being watched. There is a dead spot on the North side of the training room. I am there now. Please come quickly. Important: DO NOT TALK TO ME. PRETEND I AM NOT THERE. Tom (another Special).’ The words stayed there for a moment, then changed to ‘A friend.’ before vanishing.
Abigail looked back up from the V-Screen, but even as she did so, everything was reverting rapidly to normal. It was as if the whole vid had been put on pause while she read, and was now catching up. The E-Actor, his face now complete, had resumed running down the street. A twenty picked up a stone and threw it.
As smoothly as a swell in the ocean, the vid had resumed. It was as if nothing had happened.
Abigail continued staring blankly straight ahead. Of the many odd things that had happened in the last couple of days, this was one of the strangest.
A message, presumably secret, from someone called Tom. And it had been urgent, with an air of desperation. If it were to be believed, this 'Tom' was now, right now, waiting for her near the training room.
What should she do? Confused, Abigail glanced round. Cathy seemed to have disappeared. In some way, that helped her to make up her mind. Abigail stood. George jumped down to the floor.
For a moment she hesitated, before resolutely making for the door.
Outside the heat of the sun hit her. Under her feet the earth felt scorching. Squinting, she made her way over towards the training room. She had no idea which was the ‘North’ side. Navigation in the streets was by up, down, clockwise and anti-clockwise. Frowning, she peered around. Something large snorted in the jungle.
She took a shallow, hot breath and let it out slowly. If she just went around the building, she was sure to find the ‘dead spot,' whatever that was.
It was good to be moving. She walked along the side nearest to her. Nothing. She turned the corner and went down the next. Still nothing. Suddenly she was aware of a small white shape trotting along by her side. George. She leant over and gave him a pat.
And then, as she turned the next corner, two things happened at practically the same time.
First, she caught sight of a figure crouched against the side of the building. He looked like a small boy with fair hair, standing somewhat lopsidedly. In was difficult to tell his age. Maybe fifteen or sixteen, although Abigail was to find out later he was, in fact, seventeen.
Even at a distance of perhaps six yards, Abigail could tell it was a holo, and not a particularly good one either. He pulsed slightly in the strong sunlight, fading almost to translucence before returning to near solidity again. One of his hands lacked definition and a leg appeared to be missing. When he saw her he immediately put a finger to his lips. He seemed frightened, and kept looking round as if expecting to be discovered. In front of him was what looked like a small V-Screen, hanging in mid-air.
He must be Tom.
As Abigail went towards him, the second thing happened. There was a feeling of static and Cathy popped into being.
“Hi!” She said cheerfully. “Need company?”
“No,” said Abigail shortly.
“Seeing you out here,” said Cathy companionably, “made me think you might have something on your mind.” She turned towards Abigail. “I’m a really really good listener.”
Cathy was ignoring the Tom holo, even though he was now only a few feet away. Out of the corner of her eye, Abigail could see him making frantic but silent ‘shushing’ motions. With a sudden flash of insight, Abigail realised a ‘dead spot’ must be a place invisible to a VF. And then, immediately, another thought. If Cathy couldn't see the Tom holo, maybe the Tom holo couldn't see Cathy. In which case, he wouldn’t know the VF was only a few feet away.
Tom had to be warned! Abigail stopped and turned to Cathy, pitching her voice slightly louder. “Listen. I do not discuss my thoughts and feelings with VFs. Sorry.” She clapped her hands. “Cathy go.”
Then she stood with her head down, staring at the ground as if deep in thought. Thankfully, Cathy vanished immediately.
The holo of Tom made a small gesture with his hands. The V-Screen in front of him split into two; one screen stayed in front of him, the other floated over to Abigail and hovered in front of her face, perhaps two feet away. Red coloured words appeared on it.
‘Abigail. This is a T-Screen tuned to you and me. It cannot be seen by VFs. But there are too many sensors inside.’ There was more, but Abigail was too stunned to read further. Open mouthed she turned and looked at Tom. A T-Screen! To street people, T-Screens were almost imaginary. Many didn’t believe they existed, that they were no more than myth.
As she turned, the T-Screen also swung round, staying in front of her, the words super-imposed over his face. Immediately, in big red urgent letters came the instruction, ‘DO NOT LOOK AT ME! PRETEND I’M NOT HERE! THEY ARE WATCHING! WALK AWAY!’
The urgency was such that Abigail immediately did as she was bid. As she went she caught a last glimpse of his apprehensive, frightened face and then she was round the corner and walking along the fence. The T-Screen stayed with her, hanging in the air. His red words had been replaced with, in yellow, ‘OK, OK, I’m going!’ Which was precisely what she was thinking. For the ‘t’ in T-Screen stoo
d for ‘thought.’
A T-Screen, as insubstantial as mist but as intuitive as a psychic, could read thoughts, translate them into words and instantly convey them to a linked T-Screen.
They were the ultimate communication device. And right now there was one in front of her. It was saying, in Tom’s red, ‘Pay attention. This T-Screen can’t be seen by VFs. But there are enough sensors in the buildings for them to pick it up. So I have fixed it so it only works outdoors.’
Abigail stared at the words. It looked a bit like a lecture, and she hated lectures. Immediately the T-Screen flared with yellow words, ‘Yeah yeah. Blah blah blah.’ When she saw that she felt somewhat ashamed of herself. ‘Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!’ the T-Screen blared out. Quickly followed by ‘I’m not used to this.’
There was a slight pause, then ‘Yeah, they can run away with you. Please concentrate. My Special talent is being able to hack computers with my mind.’
‘Wow!’ the thought escaped before she could stop it. And then, ‘I don’t know what mine is. They say they don’t know.’
‘Yeah,’ came the reply. ‘It’s what they always say. It’s part of the process. Please Abigail, listen to what I’m saying. Are you listening?’
Abigail sighed and stuck her hands in her pockets. Unbidden, the T-Screen displayed, in her yellow, ‘I’m reading this, yeah.’
‘They think you can control animals. Tomorrow they’ll try and make you do it. Once you can, you’ll be shipped out of here. So don’t let them know. ‘
‘Huh?’
A pause, almost as if he were scared of continuing. And then he continued. ‘I’ve been here a week. 2 other Specials have turned up and gone. Then they are deleted from the Sparmy cloud.’
Mentally, Abigail shrugged. ‘So?’
There was a pause before his reply. ‘I think they have been disappeared.’
Looking at the words hanging in front of her, Abigail found a knot forming in the centre of her stomach. She knew, everyone knew, what ‘disappeared’ meant. And immediately she also knew why Tom had made contact. Even so, the T-Screen said, ‘Why are you telling me this?’