19

She fell asleep several hours before he did.

Ivy was adamant their best option was to travel to Canberra, but Ash wasn’t ready to risk it yet. He needed to offer his army more than just a high-profiled air force pilot – he needed to unravel her mind.

Silence fell heavily in between her gentle breaths. When she was sleeping, Ivy was undeniably beautiful. It was just a shame her heart was tainted with hatred.

Ash watched her for a while. Her mind was an enigma, but he was determined to unlock it. The harder he worked to build a solid relationship, the quicker he would achieve his objective.

Kicking away the bedsheets, Ash rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. He lowered his hands just below his nape. There, under his skin on the back of his neck, he felt his deployment chip.

The blood in his veins turned to ice. Yesterday Ash had learned that his army had tracked him to the remote island in the Whitsundays – but how? He could almost guarantee they’d pinpointed his location via his chip.

The men he’d killed had also been chipped. If the army checked on their whereabouts, their deployment chips would indicate they were floating somewhere in the Coral Sea.

He had been foolish. Ash had believed that the micro implants were no more than a means of identifying bodies in the event of a soldier’s death, but clearly, they acted as a tracking mechanism too.

Ash needed to get rid of the chip. Immediately.

He carefully climbed up from the bed and entered the bathroom. Locking the bathroom door behind him, he placed a full-length mirror behind him as he stood in front of the vanity mirror. Ash had a clear view of himself, front and back.

He patted down his pants and pulled out a pocket knife. Although the thought made his stomach churn, Ash knew the chip could not stay in his neck. Not only was it dangerous as a tracking device, but also it would be a clear indicator of his nationality to any Australian.

Exhaling deeply, Ash looked into the mirror. He ran his fingers over the deployment chip and tried to work out the best place to make the incision. With only a few moments of hesitation, Ash put the knife to his skin and began to pierce it through the surface.

He gritted his teeth as the pain fired up and blood began to trickle down his neck. Ash’s hands began to shake, but he continued to make the cut. He almost wished screaming came naturally to him, but alas, he suffered in silence.

Fingers trembling, Ash managed to peel the skin back to reveal a small white fragment. He delicately plucked it free and slumped forward in relief.

Ash leaned over the bathroom basin and examined the chip. He studied the intriguing numbers printed on top of the microchip, along with the piece of metal embedded inside of it. He also found it interesting that the chip had only three corners. The fourth corner had been sliced off.

Ash considered the best way to dispose of it. He wanted to flush the chip down the toilet, but without running water it would just sit at the bottom of the bowl. Ash tossed the fragment into the rubbish bin and made a mental note to get rid of it properly at daybreak. His first priority would be to fix the water.

At last, Ash tended to his wound. Wiping his hands on a towel, he raided a bathroom cupboard and found a plaster to cover up the slit on the back of his neck – hopefully it wouldn’t take too long to heal.

After cleaning up the mess, Ash put the full-length mirror back into its position and unlocked the bathroom door. Ivy stirred a little by the sound of his movement, but did not wake.

He climbed back into the bed beside her, blinked a few times and drifted away.

***

Ash had never enjoyed a cup of coffee so much in his life.

In fact, he relished it so damn much; he made himself a second within minutes of the first.

He sat opposite Ivy at the kitchen table with a bowl of sugary cereal. Ash had been unable to find almond or soy milk in town, so he picked at the cereal just as it was. It was crunchy and unsatisfying, but the coffee made it all worth it.

Ash typed a message into the Skye-Scroll tablet,

“Are you sure you don’t want a cup of coffee, Ivy?”

“Nuh, not a fan. I’ve always been more of a tea-drinker,” she replied, before adding, “And please don’t make a joke about me being a Pommy bastard.”

He smiled. The first one he’d cracked in several weeks.

“By the way, I found a phone today,” announced Ivy. “In the hallway. There’s a landline and it has a dial tone. We should call somebody.”

Ash already knew the phone was there. He suspected it probably would work, but he had no desire to communicate with anybody.

“I think our best option is to call the RAAF,” continued Ivy. “Hell, you can even call my parents for all I care. Somebody needs to know that I’m alive.”

Fortunately, Ash had already concocted a counter move.

“It’s too dangerous, Ivy. You’d be safer if everyone thinks you’re dead.”

She scrunched up her nose.

“What-?”

“Your name is Ivy Adoni. It’s a valuable name. There are plenty of people that would love to get their hands on you. Therefore, we should keep your survival secret.”

“No,” she said. “I don’t want to do that. If we call the RAAF directly – and I have access to their exclusive lines – we would be perfectly safe.”

“The British have taken over every television network, how can you be sure they haven’t intercepted the phone lines as well?”

She wanted to refute the statement, but Ivy could see the possibility.

“Then what do you suppose we do, Ash?” she asked, tossing her hands up.

“We lie-low for a few more days, then begin driving down the coast to Canberra.”

“Our President will be dead by the time we get there.”

“He’s going to die anyway.”

They finished their breakfast in silence. Ivy kept her head down, occasionally grabbing a handful of cereal from her bowl and picked at the grains.

Once they had finished, Ash cleared the table and prepared to investigate the water shortage. Back home, he’d lived in a three-bedroom apartment in a forty-two-storey complex. The water had never stopped. Ash didn’t have the faintest idea how to go about fixing it.

He explained to Ivy he would inspect the outdoor tank, drains and pipes to find a solution to the water problem, but Ivy had a better idea.

“Hey Ash, just a thought – have you looked at the stopcock yet?” she asked.

“What’s that?”

She laughed and slapped the inside of her thigh.

“Mate, you Sydney boys are a crack up. You’ve lived a very sheltered life, haven’t you? A stopcock is the main valve where the water supply can be turned on and off.”

Admittedly, Ash felt embarrassed for having not considered it, but he also did not even know where to find the valve. With a bit of reluctance, he forced himself to ask.

“Where can I find the stopcock?”

Thankfully, Ivy chose not to disparage him this time.

“Probably under the kitchen sink,” she replied.

Ash placed down his tablet, knelt down and opened up the cupboard doors under the sink. He saw a number of pipes and a tap tucked away at the very back in the far-right corner. Ash twisted the tap in a clockwise direction, maybe four or five times. He then stood and turned on the faucet. With a splash and a splutter, water sporadically burst from the spout until a consistent flow followed.

The sound of the water stream put a smile on Ivy’s face.

“If only we’d tried the stopcock days ago,” said Ivy, pushing back her chair. “I’ve been dying for a hot shower.”

Ash picked up his tablet and keyed in a message.

“You are welcome to have the first shower.”

Ivy didn’t need to be told twice. She pushed back her chair, grabbed her walking stick and headed out of the kitchen. Soon enough, Ash heard the shower run from upstairs. He desperately wanted to bathe after so many weeks without the amenity, but he’d have to wait a little longer.

He also hadn’t shaved in several weeks and his hair had grown considerably from the crew cut it used to be, but Ash liked that he was hard to recognise. He would only reclaim his identity once he’d put things right.

Wandering aimlessly down the hallway, Ash spied the phone Ivy had mentioned. It would be too risky to sever the cables – because it would be a dead giveaway that Ash was playing against her – but he hoped he could tinker with it in some way to make it unusable. He picked up the receiver and put the phone to his ear. The dial tone was clear as day. After trying to wrack his brain about how to go about disabling the phone, Ash placed down the receiver and realised he was probably worried for nothing.

Ivy was blind. She would have a hard time dialling anyone when the buttons were touchscreen, especially as there weren’t any brailed bumps to help her distinguish numbers apart.

It was then Ash remembered his own phone. He hadn’t given it a second thought since arriving at the house, but it had proved to be a valuable device to him – until it lost its battery. However, he had also found a phone charger on board the boat he’d commandeered from Charles and Hugh.

The phone charger had also looked to be one from decades ago, which was an intriguing coincidence in Ash’s mind. He decided now would be a good time to test if it worked or not.

He entered the lounge room and found his swag tossed against the wall in the far corner. He’d carried it with him everywhere during his time on the island, keeping all of his precious treasures inside of it, but now he hadn’t touched it in days.

Ash picked up the swag, crashed down on an armchair and pulled it open. The smell of dampness hit him like a slap to the face.

He located his mobile phone. Ash had carefully wrapped it in palm leaves once the battery had died, but the phone charger had been carelessly tossed inside. He yanked out the tangled mess and unscrambled the wires.

With the phone in one hand and the charger’s input in the other, he slotted the piece into its hole. It fit. Perfectly.

In a moment of truth, Ash stood from his chair and located the closest wall socket. He pushed the pins of the charger back into position and flicked on a switch. At first, nothing happened. Ash hit the power button a few times and suddenly a light flashed on the screen. The word ‘Charging’ appeared briefly, before it returned to the home screen.

The bar on the right was frantically moving up and down, indicating the battery was still charging. There was, of course, still no signal but as Ivy had told him – it would never work without a SIM card.

He looked over the device again. Ash had always found it odd they he’d acquired an old mobile to begin with, but now that he’d found a charger to accompany it? It was strange to say the very least.

Why had there been a phone charger – presumably from decades ago – on board the boat? Something wasn’t adding up.

Ash then turned the mobile over and slid off the battery. The phone lost power again, but he wanted to take a closer look at the device from the inside. Had he missed something? The mechanics were foreign to him, but his eyes were drawn to the compartment where the so-called SIM card needed to be inserted.

He managed to slip a latch down, which then flipped open to reveal the chip reader underneath. Ash stared at it for a long time. The shape was an almost perfect rectangle, except for the fact one corner had been sliced off.

Ash felt a tingle roll down his spine.

The thought seemed implausible, but just yesterday Ash had pulled his deployment chip from his neck and it had been an identical size and shape.

His breathing quickened. Ash had pulled the tiny fragment from under his skin last night. He’d tossed the chip in the rubbish bin and had planned to flush the chip down the toilet today. However, now he had other plans.

Maybe the idea was pure insanity, but it was worth a try.

Ash heard movement from upstairs. He could no longer hear the shower running either, indicating Ivy had finished in the bathroom. Jumping to his feet he dashed down the hall, up the stairs and into the master bedroom.

He found Ivy sitting at the foot of the bed, drying her hair with a towel. She heard his footsteps pass her by.

“I can’t even put into words how damn good that felt,” she exclaimed. “The shower is all yours now.”

Although Ash desperately wanted to freshen up, it would have to wait. He entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Almost sliding to his knees, he grabbed the rubbish bin beside the wash basin and rifled through it. He found the tiny white chip sitting at the very bottom. Ash plucked it out and stood, unlocking the bathroom door and he stepped outside.

“You’re not showering?” asked Ivy. “I’m sure there’s enough hot water left...”

Ash gave no reply as he exited the bedroom and jogged down the stairs. He made his way back into the lounge room and picked up his phone and charger.

If his chip worked inside the phone, maybe he’d have some answers at last.

Ash took the pieces into the study and closed the door behind him. He switched on the light and placed everything onto the aged timber desk and sprang to work.

Trying to keep his fingers steady, Ash slipped his deployment chip into the card reader and then closed the cover. Again, it was a perfect fit. He carefully pushed the battery back into place, connected the phone to the charger before plugging it into the nearest power point. The battery began charging once more. After a minute, Ash pushed the power button.

He felt another shockwave sear down his spine.

The phone now had full reception.

Suddenly, messages began buzzing through. Ash buried the phone between the palms of his hands in an attempt to silence the noise. The sound was slightly muffled, but still audible. Panicked, Ash found a way to mute the device.

As more messages poured through, Ash began scrolling through the main menu. He opened up the contacts option. When he had first opened it several weeks ago, it had been bare, but now with his deployment chip acting as the SIM card, it had hundreds of numbers listed – all belonging to departments within the British military.

Ash smiled, but it quickly fell as fear pushed to the surface.

How had he not known about this? Why had he been kept in the dark? Once again, it seemed like his position in the Royal Marines had been obsolete. It was becoming increasingly more likely that Ivy’s assumption was right – he was nothing more than bait. He had been a disposable enticement, a mere distraction from the greater operation.

Ash felt his fist tighten. He let the fury wash over him, loathing that his own army had led him astray; yet, it felt incredible to know he’d worked out their secret method of communication.

The Australians were probably none the wiser. For the last decade, mobile phones, along with the majority of newer tech devices, operated from a wireless global connection called The Skye. As for vintage mobiles? They worked off a different global system and to the best of Ash’s knowledge; it had never been switched off. The British had tapped into old technology, but the move was genius. It would probably be some time before the Australians worked it out.

Exhaling deeply, Ash opened the first text message. It read,

Brisbane is ours.

A cryptic, yet powerful statement. He then opened the next message.

WARNING: Baibots have turned rogue from Cairns to Mackay. British reinforcements are advised to leave the area until the droids are brought back into our control. They have multiplied significantly in the last 24hrs.

Yet another piece slotted into place – it made sense why the British had abruptly fled Airlie Beach yesterday morning. Clearly their own creation had turned on them, but it meant Ash had been abandoned in the danger zone.

For now, he felt safe within the house on the headland, but he and Ivy could not stay forever. They would have to prepare their departure sooner rather than later.

Ash scrolled through a dozen or more messages, feeling an incredible power at his fingertips.

Control, at last, was within his reach.