‘Well, it’s a lot cheaper this way,’ said Andy. ‘I’ve only just finished paying for my first BlueScape derma implant, I wouldn’t have bothered if I knew we’d be getting these new super-fast models for free,’ he added.
‘Yeah,’ said Ed. ‘I’ve been reading up on the specs; these are military-grade nano implants, much more secure, huge range, the size of a grain of rice and, in conjunction with an app on your talk tab, you can eavesdrop on the less secure civilian models.’
‘That’s cool. I can check out what the girls are really saying about me,’ said Andy, smiling broadly.
‘Not without a court order, you can’t, Mr Faux,’ said Ed, waggling his finger.
‘Who would know?’
‘We would, Mr Faux,’ said a booming voice from behind them.
They both jumped and spun round to find two security agents grinning at them.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Andy. ‘Is that some sort of heart attack test or something?’
‘No, Mr Faux,’ said the agent. ‘We’re here to collect your talk tabs.’
‘Actually, Agent Grey,’ said Ed, reading his name badge, ‘these are the property of Canterbury University and we’re rather attached to them.’
‘They will be cleansed and returned to the university,’ said Grey.
‘What about our work?’ asked Andy.
‘Save everything you need to the Genframe right now,’ said the other agent.
‘And then what do we do, Agent – is that Black, Agent Black?’ said Andy. ‘Agent Grey and Agent Black…are we in a bloody spy movie or what?’
‘Laugh away, Mr Faux. We’ve heard all the jokes a thousand times,’ said Agent Grey appearing slightly irritated.
‘Sorry, guys,’ said Ed, looking at Andy with a glare. ‘My friend sometimes visits the land of idiot. However, if you’re taking our personal talk tabs, what are we to use from now on?’
‘These,’ said Black, giving them a box each.
‘Awesome,’ said Andy. ‘Gentabs – the latest model too. Do you know what these cost, Ed?’
‘They’re also updated with military-encrypted software and carbon and titanium bodies, so they’re impregnable and unbreakable,’ said Grey.
‘But they’re not unlosable,’ said Black. ‘Just like a personal weapon in the military, you keep it with you wherever you go.’
‘Both of you must change your passwords too,’ said Grey.
‘In hindsight, you both should have been issued with these from the start,’ said Black.
‘What do you mean “in hindsight”?’ asked Andy. ‘Has something happened?’
‘No – err – no, nothing has happened, Mr Faux,’ said Grey, giving his colleague a sideways glance. ‘It’s just, with the sensitivities and importance of your work, it would have been prudent to have the latest and most secure equipment from the outset.’
‘Talking of security,’ said Black, ‘when you’ve had your new implants fitted, report to building 51. I believe it’s a CIA chat about security in space, or something like that. They don’t tell us, so don’t ask.’
‘Above our pay grade,’ said Grey, smiling again, they both turned and left the waiting room.
Two hours later, Ed and Andy were both the proud owners of BlueScape Opus XII MD implants – MD standing for “Military Designation” and therefore not available to the general public.
They walked quickly across the campus, heading for building 51. It had been a chilly four degrees overnight and, although it was warmer that afternoon, they were both wrapped up against a cool breeze from the east.
‘Why couldn’t we do the training in Florida?’ asked Andy. ‘There are girls on rollerblades in bikinis there.’
‘It’s toughening us up for space, Andrew. It’s quite cold up there too,’ said Ed, smiling as he recalled his first attempt at rollerblading, many years ago, that ended with a trip to casualty.
‘I’m not planning on going for any walks up there. I’m told it’s easy to get lost.’
They walked past a sign indicating the direction to buildings 50 to 59.
‘It’s building 51 we want, isn’t it? Or is it Area 51?’ said Andy. He started whistling the theme to The X Files, an old TV series he used to watch repeats of in his youth. ‘Perhaps they’re going to introduce us to some aliens.’
‘You idiot.’
‘Unbeliever.’
‘It’s not a case of me not believing in extra-terrestrial life – the odds for it are stacked – it’s just, I don’t think the US government has been hiding dead ones in a Nevada shed for about ninety years.’
‘Well, with that enormous supercomputer brain of yours, I’m sure you’re right,’ said Andy, continuing to whistle The X Files and looking in all directions around the sky again.
‘Do you have to keep doing that? It wasn’t funny the first time.’
‘I’m looking out for the flying saucer. It can’t be far away, unless… they’re already here.’ He continued to whistle, this time the famous five notes from Close Encounters of the Third Kind.
‘Did you actually study for an Engineering Master’s Degree or just buy it from a dodgy South American university?’ said Ed, pushing Andy into a hedge.
Building 51 was a nondescript office block amongst a dozen other nondescript office blocks in the centre of the campus. As they entered the building, a security guard scanned their bracelets.
‘Agent Scarlet, is it?’ said Andy, smiling at the guard, who gave him a quizzical look.
‘I’ll scarlet your nose if you don’t shut up with the stupid quips,’ said Ed.
They were shown to a small waiting area and two black-suited men, both with sour expressions entered the room.
‘Mr Virr, come with me please,’ said the first man, pointing to a side room.
‘And, Mr Faux, could you come this way please?’ said the other, indicating to a different room.
‘Don’t admit a thing,’ called Andy, as they were escorted through separate doors. ‘They’ll never find the body.’
Ed walked into a small, windowless room and, just before the door closed, he heard Andy laughing in the next room.
‘Likes a joke, your colleague, does he?’ said the agent.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Ed. ‘I didn’t catch your name?’
‘I didn’t offer it,’ said the agent. ‘Sit down please, I have some questions for you.’
‘Okay,’ said Ed. ‘If that’s the way it is, I’m not going to sit down. A few things are going to happen next. One; you’re going to provide me with some identification, so at least I know you have the clearance necessary for me to talk to you. Two; I’m not talking to anybody who refuses even the basics of everyday manners. Three; you’re going to give up on this pathetic, heavy-handed, seen-it-all-before, dark suit, separate interrogation rooms, intimidation bullshit, because I’m not intimidated at all. Finally, number four; you’re going to start talking and, not just your name, but your rank and number. You’re going to tell me what’s going on with our talk tabs and why they’ve suddenly got everyone all pissing their pants?
The agent gave Ed a malevolent glare.
‘You can speak now,’ Ed added, nodding and folding his arms across his chest.
The agent continued the glare for a second and then looked up at the camera set into the top corner of the room. As he opened his mouth to speak, the door burst open and a smartly-dressed lady strode into the room.
‘Thank you, Agent Braith. I’ll take it from here.’
The agent quickly stood, almost to attention, mumbled a ‘yes, ma’am’, and shot out of the room as if fired from a gun.
‘Good morning, Edward,’ she said, smiling. ‘I apologise for my somewhat abrupt colleague. I believe he is used to – for want of a better term – interrogating the slightly less intelligent members of the herd. My name is—’
‘Donna McGuire,’ said Ed. ‘You’ve been the Director of the CIA for the last nine years; you’ve been married to your partner for I believe five years now and your father is retired Senator McGuire of Connecticut.’
‘Wow, Edward. That’s most impressive. If you ever get bored with physics there is most certainly a job for you this side of the Atlantic,’ said Donna with a big smile.
‘Thank you, Director. And I apologise for being a little grumpy with your agent. I have a very low threshold for rudeness.’
‘So do I, Edward, so do I,’ said Donna. ‘And talking of manners, please have a seat. I have got to sit down; we had to run to get the Scramjet over here as soon as we heard and my legs are tired.’
‘Heard what, Director?’
‘Call me Donna, please. And can I call you Ed? We’re old friends now, after all,’ she said, grabbing one of the chairs and sitting.
‘Fine by me,’ said Ed, taking the chair opposite.
‘Okay, Ed, the situation is, we received information that details of your recent project success may have leaked.’
‘Ah shit,’ said Ed. ‘The Chinese, Russians, Indians?’
‘Not as far as we know. We believe it to be Xavier Lake.’
‘Xavier Lake? Bloody hell, how on earth?’ said Ed, his eyes wide with shock.
‘After we exchanged your talk tabs this morning, we scanned the software. It was very cleverly hidden – simply the best spyware we’ve seen yet. It can detect the approach of scanning software and become inert in a millisecond.’
‘Was it on Andy’s too?’
‘No, his was clear.’
‘I feel really bad, like I’ve let people down.’
‘No, don’t,’ she said. ‘You don’t live in my world. You wouldn’t be expecting it. But we would like to find out how they got it on there in the first place.’
‘I really don’t know… I’ve never let my talk tab out of my sight. I have two layers of security, unless it was already on there when I was issued it.’
Donna reached for her bag and extracted a manila folder from it.
‘Have a look at these photographs and tell me if there’s anyone here you recognise,’ she said, placing them in front of Ed, one at a time.
Ed stared at all six pictures even though he recognised one at first glance. It made his heart sink. He looked up at Donna.
‘The second one?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Where did you meet him?’
Ed looked at the camera then back to Donna. He felt physically sick.
‘I know how you feel, Ed. Even at my level we get scammed all the time and it makes you feel like shit. You just have to pick yourself up, sharpen your mind and get back on the horse.’
‘He came to the university – told me he was thinking about sending his son from Brazil to study physics. I remember because, as I was showing him around, the fire alarm went off. I had to organise getting the students out and, as you can imagine, it’s like herding cats. He went back to my office to grab his bag.’ Ed looked at the floor. ‘That bastard. That’s when he did it, wasn’t it?’
‘Most likely,’ she said.
‘I saw him stroll out only a couple of minutes later. He gave me a wave and a smile, the cocky little shit. I watched him walk across the car park and get in a chauffeur-driven limousine. I remember thinking, “He can afford the fees. No auto taxi for him…”’
‘I’m going to put out a warrant for him,’ she said. ‘Might slow him down a bit.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Floyd Herez,’ she said. ‘And he’s from Columbia, not Brazil. He’s Xavier Lake’s Head of Security.’
‘Oh, bollocks.’
‘For this reason, we’ve decided to alter the schedule slightly.’
‘In what way?’
‘You and Andrew will fly to Armstrong Station tomorrow morning.’
‘Double bollocks.’