Andop had been working late, and the Syntho Research Centre was almost empty. He locked up his lab and paused to watch a cleaning-bot in the shape of a giant spider, polishing the corridor floor a few metres away. It was an experimental model put together by some of the second-year students. Its eight arms weren’t quite synchronised. Every two or three cycles, several of them bumped together causing the machine to stop and reset itself, which meant it kept polishing the same area of corridor over and over.
He regarded it for a moment, working out what they’d done wrong, then turned to find himself confronted by Triple-Dub standing shoulder to shoulder, blocking the corridor. Walis was carrying a large canvas bag.
‘Gentlemen. Good evening. Is there a problem?’
Only then did he notice the smashed security-bot behind them.
‘What’s going on h––’
Before he could finish, Welis hit him.
The blow made his head spin but didn’t quite knock him out. He was aware of being bundled into the canvas bag, of the bag being zipped up and carried out, but his blurred senses left him powerless to resist.
The bag was being carried between two of the augments. He could feel it swaying forward and back as they walked. Near what he guessed to be the entrance to the building, he heard voices, students perhaps, and began to struggle. The swaying stopped for a second, then the bag swung backwards much further than before. Only when it was rushing forward again did he realise what they were doing, and by then it was too late to protect his head.
He came to sometime later, blinking at a blaze of light and tried to raise a hand to his pounding head. He couldn’t. His arms and legs had been strapped to the bed he was lying on. A silhouette moved amongst the blinding lights, an outline he vaguely recognised. He frowned as it bent closer and saw he was awake. ‘Haril? What are you doing here?’
Chix Haril held up a syringe, measuring its contents against the light before squirting off a little of the excess. Then she stooped and stuck the needle in his neck.
‘Goodbye, Scolyfol,’ she said.
* * *
Administrator Almas Meli found Welis, Wilis and Walis waiting for him when he arrived at his office. ‘That was quick,’ he remarked, ushering them inside.
‘He sang like a chirpbird, sir.’ Welis straightened his red bandanna and smiled.
‘But what about, Welis?’
‘He was definitely involved in the neural lace stuff, sir. Been tinkering with it for years.’
‘We know that from Krilen’s x-rays.’
‘Krilen has a neural lace?’ Wilis said.
‘Of a sort. Why do you think we haven’t brainsmashed him already? It’s not a true neural lace, more a protective device. If it senses the presence of brainsmash chemicals, it’ll liquify his brain and destroy the very information we’re seeking.’ He turned back to Welis. ‘The key question is, did Scolyfol know the code to deactivate it?’
‘No sir, he didn’t. Krilen set that himself.’
‘Damn! What about those kids and KSX-119?’
‘He didn’t know anything about the mission, sir, but he confirmed the kids were involved.’
Meli grunted. ‘Tell me something I didn’t know!’
‘How about where they’re hiding out, sir? Scolyfol arranged the accommodation himself, right on the university campus: Pyramid K, level nine, studio nine.’
‘Now that is a result, Welis. Well done! Round them up right away.’
Meli turned to Walis, adding, ‘See? Your clone-brother has initiative. That’s why you were demoted, Wilis.’
Walis didn’t correct him. Neither did Wilis. They just followed their clone-brother out.