Interface: A Techno Thriller (22 page)

Reems frowned. "I'd say the same, with a few zeroes on, except that the word is that your company is experiencing difficulties. And not just financial ones. "

"Are you asking as potential investor?"

"More as a stakeholder. And the name of your organisation keeps cropping up in security briefings. Why is that, William? What are you up to?"

"Inventing the future. It's what we do."

"But are you doing it by digging up the past? Because CERUS has made its share of mistakes before."

Bern shrugged. "I don't intend on repeating any, if that reassures you. I'm sure you don't either."

Reems glared. "If you cross the line, there's nothing anyone can do. You will give me no choice."

"Perhaps you should focus on catching criminals and terrorists."

"The things your company has done put you in both camps."

"You forgot to say
allegedly
," said Bern, tipping his head. "Anyway, it's never been a problem for you before. I've always liked the fact that you've shown yourself willing to embrace necessity in the name of progress."

"Says the man trying to make another billion from it."

"There's nothing evil about making a profit. And let's remember, it didn't used to be a problem for you."

"That was a different time." Reems sighed. "Or maybe not. Have you restarted Tantalus?"
 

"You know those files were destroyed."

"Do I? Were they?"

"Perhaps you should speak to your auditor. I'd assumed they were thorough."

"And what about intelligent nanotech? Is that back under development?"

He tilted his head to one side. "Wherever are you getting these ideas?"

"Just answer my question."

"I think I'm entitled to ask, before you continue with your fishing expedition, whether I should have a lawyer present."

"I thought if we talked one-to-one we might reach an accord." Reems shook her head. "Get out, William. This was clearly a waste of my time."

"As you wish." He put his hand on the door handle. "I'll bid you a pleasant evening, much as I know you probably wish that some unfortunate accident befalls me."

"I would not view it as unfortunate."

Bern started to open the door. "You know, I've only ever wanted to change the world for the better." He took a breath. "Someone has to be bold enough to try. It just doesn't always work first time round."

"I understand that. The problem comes with who you're asking to pay the price, because it never seems to be you, William. It never seems to be you."

SIXTY-SEVEN

TOM STUMBLED OUT OF THE barn, tripped on a branch and fell into the gravel. With a sigh, he picked up a handful, letting it slip through his fingers.

Lentz followed him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Tom, I know this must be difficult for you."

"It's nothing compared to losing my best friend." He stood up, shrugging off her hand. "I need you to explain exactly what they did to me. Why they chose me. But mostly I want to know what we're going to do about it."

Lentz gave him a long look, but nodded. "First things first. Come back inside and let's stop them tracking you."

She led him to a corner and a device like a fifties salon hairdryer; indeed, Tom strongly suspected that was how it had started life.
 

"So what are you trying to do here?" he asked, as he lay back, the metal dome encasing his head.

"The nanites contain a number of safety features. One of which is that each active nanite emits a coded trace signal, at a very low frequency, that suitably calibrated equipment can detect and track. I'm going to target the node, where the nanites are clustered, with a pulse from an x-ray laser. Now don't move." She pressed a button and there was a sharp click. She looked over at the screen then turned round and smiled. "We're done. You are now untraceable."

"Just like that? Brilliant." Tom sat up, rubbing at the back of his neck, though there had been no pain, no buzzing even. "So what is this node thing?"

"It's like a junction box. The nanites they injected grew an implant in your head. It's made of biocompatible forms of carbon and silicon. They form a cluster, which performs the role of the original project's 'chip', with fibres extending into your brain, like roots from a plant."

"So no metal?"

"Definitely not. That was the problem last time. It conducted the heat too effectively."

"Then why is there something metal in my head?"
 

She looked at him sharply. "What are you talking about?"

"I had an MRI scan two nights back. Well, about two seconds of one, before we had to stop because of the pain it caused me."

"I ran a rudimentary scan before using the laser, but I didn't process the results except as I needed." She slid her chair back to her laptop and began analysing a stream of numbers. After a few moments, she hit a function button and a diagram came up. "Get your head out of the device. Sit up," she ordered. She pushed his head forward, running her fingers through his hair, and hissed. "I don't understand."

"Then that makes two of us," Tom said. "Care to share?"

"You have no sign of recent surgery. Yet, according to the scan, you have a microscopic computer in your head, protected by a metal casing."

"But I thought--"

"There is no explanation for how it got there." Her eyes grew distant as she spoke.

"Surely the nanites made it?"

"They can't just make metal. They cannot transmute base atoms. They can fabricate compounds and structures from appropriate materials, but there is no way they could create it from carbon and silicon."

"Then what happened?"

"I've not been involved with this version of the project. Perhaps I've missed something." She stopped suddenly. "Unless..."

"What?"

She pushed his head forward and ran her fingers through his hair again, this time much more slowly. Her fingers circled to the back of his head moving lower and lower then suddenly freezing. "What is that?"
 

Tom reached up and replaced her finger with his own. "I don't know. A blemish or a little scar maybe? It's always been there."

"It
is
a scar, Tom. The last trace of a medical procedure. Probably from when you were a child."

"I don't remember having an operation when I was kid."

"I doubt you would if it happened when you were an infant, but somebody did something in your head. And they left you a little present: an old-fashioned silicon chip with a metal casing."

"You're not making any sense. So I
didn't
have any nanites put in my head, then?"

She shook her head. "You have the nanites – but from a separate procedure twenty-five years later."

"So I'm Subject Zero
and
one of the original Tantalus project subjects from the first set of experiments?"

"No. The original four subjects were adults."

"Then you've lost me."

Lentz sighed. "There's lots I haven't told you yet. You need to be patient while we figure this out."

"You mean there's more good news to come?" Tom snapped. He turned away for a moment. "How did you get mixed up in all this, if you now think it's so wrong that you're on my side?"

"My reason for doing this? That started a long time ago."

SIXTY-EIGHT

BERN WALKED INTO THE MASTER bedroom of his country house. Celia was out at a charity dinner, which gave him undisturbed access to his wardrobe and now a selection from it was spread across his oversized bed. He'd had so long to select these items, to pare them down to what was absolutely necessary, but still the choice was peculiarly difficult. As with everything related to this initiative, it needed to be perfect; he had to control the things he could control so that, when the unexpected happened, he was ready to take advantage of it. Because if everything went to plan, things were about to change beyond all recognition.

His phone rang and he frowned as he answered it.

"William, it's Stefan Heidn. Can we speak?"

Bern flipped open his suitcase and started packing a shirt. "Sure, go ahead."

"No, not on the phone: in person. I'm right outside your gates."

"You are?" Bern hesitated. "Is something wrong?"

"Can I come in?"

"Of course." He pressed a control on the wall. "Drive right up." Bern clicked the phone off then immediately dialled another number.
 

"Peter, Stefan Heidn is here to speak with me. Is he a problem?"

"Not one that I can't manage. I'll be monitoring him."

Bern nodded to himself. "You know I met with Reems."

"Was that wise?"

"I don't think I had a choice. She asked a lot of questions. Do you have things under control?"

A pause. "There's nothing you need to know."

"I'm glad to hear it." Bern clicked the phone off and walked downstairs to the front door. Heidn's antique Mercedes drew up on the gravel and the professor stepped out, wearing a worried expression. "What's up, Stefan?" asked Bern, shaking his hand.

"Not here," Heidn replied. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"There's nobody here except a few of my staff, but sure, follow me. Would you like a drink?"

"I could certainly use one."

They took glasses of cognac down to a small rose garden a hundred metres from the house. Surrounded by tightly cropped hedges, they were safe from prying eyes and ears.

"So, what's up, Stefan?" asked Bern, sitting on an oak bench.

"Something unexpected," replied Heidn, dragging his foot through the gravel of the path. "Dominique Lentz is alive."
 

Bern shook his head. "Have you been drinking? Before you got here, I mean."
 

"A woman by the name of Daniella Lawrence came to the Tower for a meeting with me the other day, but I'd scheduled no such appointment. When I came down to investigate, she'd already left."

"So?"

"I was puzzled so I called up the CCTV footage - and it was
her
. Twenty-five years older, wearing a disguise, but I
know
it was Lentz."

Bern ran a hand through his hair. "How can you be so sure?"

"I'm a details person. She kept drumming the desk with the fingers of both hands, one after the other. There was a distinctive pattern to it. I'm right, William. Beyond any shadow of a doubt. And you know they never found a body."

"The report said that was the ocean currents."

"Or maybe there was no body to be found."

Bern shook his head. "Assuming, for one moment, that you're right, why would she come back now?"

"Yes, that is the question." Heidn snapped his fingers. "I think she's trying to take back Tantalus. You know how frustrated she was when it was terminated."

"How could she even know that we're pursuing it?"

"I don't know. But if you remember anything about Lentz, it should be that it's unwise to underestimate her. I checked the system, and when she visited the Tower, she hacked the building network. Using twenty-five-year-old base code."

"Are you sure?"

"Who else could it have been?"

"Maybe Armstrong?"

Heidn gave this some thought. "Maybe," he conceded. "Or maybe they were working together. I ran my own searches of the system. There's evidence of a conspiracy, William." He paused. "And by that I mean other than the conspiracy we are all participating in. Marron is behind it."

Bern blinked. "Say that again."

Heidn gulped from his glass. "We've all been tricked."

"Peter Marron? Are you sure?"

"He ran a separate test program. Without anybody's knowledge. There was a Subject Zero. Nanites were implanted into Zero
prior
to our selection of Subjects One to Four. I have the data to prove it." Heidn shook his head. "Marron--" He froze. "Did you hear that?" He swung his head back and forth.

"Hear what?" Bern asked. "Seriously, Stefan, you don't seem yourself at all. Now--"

Heidn pulled a handgun from his coat pocket, swinging it in an arc. "Have I made a mistake?" Heidn stopped with the gun pointing in Bern's direction. "You seem awfully calm about all this."

Bern looked at the gun, his eyes wide. "Do I look calm now?"

"I never signed up for all this. I just wanted to be a scientist." He took a step back. "This needs to end, William."

There was a sudden movement as a flock of birds erupted, disturbed by something. The noise all but muffled the sound of the single gunshot.

SIXTY-NINE

LENTZ HAD BEEN SLUMPED IN her chair, silent, for such a long time that Tom jumped when she started speaking. "I had a twin sister," said Lentz. "Her name was Elena." She looked at her hands, took a deep breath, then continued, "When we were born, there was no indication of any problems, but at the age of two she was diagnosed with a rare degenerative condition. She was barely walking before she was in a wheelchair. I didn't understand what was happening: why we couldn't play like we always had. At first I thought she didn't like me anymore. Or that she was just lazy because she never wanted to do anything. But once I realised that wasn't the case, all I wanted to do was help. I kept asking why we couldn't use some magic and make her well again." She pushed up from her chair and started to pace the barn. "I was only five when she died. I kept asking why. And nobody could give me an answer. I refused to accept it for such a long time. Maybe I still do." She sighed. "It's always been the drive behind my passion to make a difference. And if you don't have a passion, it's hard to make a difference."

Tom shook his head. "I'm sorry I assumed you joined CERUS for the money."

She glared at him. "If it had been money that drove me, I wouldn't have become a scientist, full stop. Given my interests I had to join an organisation like CERUS. My area of research is incredibly expensive. If it doesn't happen under the auspices of a well-funded commercial project, it simply doesn't happen at all."

She looked at the floor, scuffing a foot through the dust.

"After university, I got word of a government initiative in neural interfaces. One thing led to another and I was recruited into MI5's Special Projects Division. None of the work got very far, though. There were too many restrictions, too many protocols to follow and funding was insufficient. I realised I was going to have to go elsewhere if I were to succeed. That's when William Bern approached me." She gave a bitter smile. "He knew all the right things to say: all the buttons to push. Said he had this new project that I was perfect for."