AX50 Page 5
“I wanted to tell you last night how evil Karl Johansson is, but it’s too dangerous to say anything in public. He regularly sends his heavies to abduct young girls, who are taken back to his mansion. They are given sweets and drugged before being forced to take part in sexual acts. The girls are often as young as eleven. I’m telling you this as my cousin was abducted when she was twelve. She’s never recovered. She used to be full of fun but now is withdrawn and miserable. I hate that man and would gladly kill him if I had the chance. Where do you come from?”
“Costa Rica.”
“You’ll be safe from his clutches there. Could you tell the Xantec authorities what’s going on? Maybe they’d start watching him.”
We were walking back to the hotel when our Xan-links simultaneously went off. Max wanted us back in CRC directly. I wasn’t supposed to be investigating Karl. She must’ve got wind of us being on his island. Trouble ahead!
When we arrived, I was told that Max wanted to see me on my own. I entered and she ignored me while she appeared to be busy looking at a large hologram. She was scowling and clearly angry when she looked up.
“You have disobeyed me twice! I could forgive you checking out Karl as long as you were discreet, but you’ve also been seeing Petra against my command. You’ve no idea how important her work is. She’s at present nearly finished work on a project that’s going to transform all Commissioners’ lives. She’s destined for great things and you must never distract her again.”
“In fact, this isn’t why I recalled you early. Xanasa has discovered that 100 grams of europa have been taken from the reactor on two successive days. You know that the fusion reactor is housed deep inside this mountain. Security there is paramount. Only three teams of two Commissioners ever enter that area. The droids never leave the area. The Commissioners are scanned each day as they leave through the only passageway that connects the reactor to the outside; it would be impossible for them to smuggle anything out.”
Another conundrum. “I’ll try to solve it, but nothing springs to mind.”
I told her about the island and Karl.
“That’s abominable! I’ll order his immediate arrest.”
Back in my room, I remembered that water was sampled through a long, narrow passage bored through the rock. Had one of the Commissioners put the europa down there? I told Max.
“That’s worth checking out, Zig. I’ll get the CCTV that films this process looked at, and the six Commissioners will be given veritax and scanned forthwith. There is some good news, though. Karl has just been detected travelling to CRC on the hyperloop. I’ve ordered ten clones to arrest him as he arrives.”
Finally, we were close to ensnaring this nasty pervert. I went to the station to watch the arrest. It had been cleared of passengers, and eight clones blending in with the walls of the station had taken up their firing positions. Two, not wearing stealth suits, were ready to confront and arrest Karl. The pod arrived; I was tense with anticipation. The doors swung open. The pod was empty! I ran across to check there was no possible way out or hiding place. It was then that I saw a minuscule silver chip on one of the seats.
I rushed back to Max to show her. “The clever bastard! He must’ve had his chip surgically removed. We’ll deal with that surgeon later. I bet he’s fled and this was another clever ruse to distract us. Xanasa, play us satellite images of any boats leaving his harbour over the last four hours.”
There were three small boats and one large cruiser that left almost simultaneously. Of course, without his chip, we’d no idea which of these he was on or indeed if he was on any of them. They might all be decoys.
“Xanasa, follow any drones that have left his mansion today. Arrange for soldiers to intercept the small boats and any relevant drones.
Zig, I want you to go with Charco and your two pet clones and take the hyperloop to Tampico. I’ll arrange for a speedboat to be ready for you at the harbour. I’m sure he’ll be in the fast cruiser and will expect us to intercept via Tampico. I suspect Karl will turn east and head in the direction of Tampa. You must arrest or if necessary kill him before he can rendezvous with anyone.”
When we boarded our boat in Tampico, I was pleased to learn it was furnished with a powerful electric jet engine. (It used to belong to cocaine smugglers.) Xanasa kept us informed of the cruiser’s position. Max had been spot on; Karl had turned east. Xanasa predicted he would hit the Florida coast about ten minutes before us. We took the opportunity to sleep while the captain maintained full throttle.
I was woken by Xanasa, who had spotted four wave-skimmers being launched from Karl’s boat. One of the riders had no chip! Excitement banished sleep as I maxed out my skimmer. I was catching him. He was going so fast that if he turned to check my progress, he would almost certainly crash. He was too smart for that; he turned towards a tourist beach. He crested a wave and I hoped that might topple him, but he was cautious and chose to slow down to match its speed. I jumped the waves. Something hit the water. Too late, I realised it was my gun. I carried on, hoping for a miracle. I was about a hundred metres behind him as we raced across the beach towards some sand dunes. He changed direction, heading towards a wood beyond the dunes that would provide cover, to prevent Xanasa tracking him using satellite images. By now, I had calculated that the clones and Charco should have reached the jetty at the far side of the wood. He’d disappeared among the dunes and I followed, running as fast as I could, keeping my head as low as possible. I heard what sounded like firecrackers. Sand exploded just behind me. I dived into a deep depression at the foot of a dune and spotted a gully leading from it. It was a dried-up riverbed. I sprinted along it, thankful that the stones gave me better traction. I reached the woods and hid deep in the shade. I’d no idea where Karl was. I heard a chopper approach; it hovered above the trees.
A heavily amplified voice rang out. “Drop your guns; come out into the open with your hands held high. You are surrounded by armed police.” I hoped this might stop him shooting, but if he was in cahoots with these police then he would have succeeded in giving them the europa and our secrets. Shit!
I heard the steady thrum of a sonic stun gun and then absolute silence. I moved towards the dunes with my hands up high.
“On your knees, hands behind your head!”
I was roughly frisked and cuffed.
“Where’s your weapon?”
“I have no weapon. I was being shot at by an American who was chasing me. I was in a boat well inside international waters when this American approached us on a wave-skimmer and then started firing at us for no apparent reason. My brother and his children were on board, so I jumped on my wave-skimmer to draw him away from the boat. He nearly caught me, and then when we got near the woods, he opened fire.”
“Okay, smart ass. If this American guy was firing at you, where is he now?”
“I’ve no idea; I was scared stiff and lay absolutely still, hoping not to be shot.”
They didn’t seem to buy my story and dragged me off to the police station, where I was fingerprinted, photo’d and iris scanned. I was swabbed for gun residue and left to stew in a tiny cell. It seemed like an eternity until the door was opened by a surly officer. “Okay, you were clean and your story has been backed up by the tourist on the beach who called us in. I’ve been told to put you on the next flight to Cancun.”
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As I arrived in Cancun, Max contacted me to say that Karl had been captured by the clones. I’d expected some thanks, but got none.
“We’re still in a real mess. Karl’s veritax scan showed that he’d buried a canister of europa by a large stone just after he’d fired at you. He has told his CIA contact that it’s hidden there. The CIA have promised Karl that they’ll attack CRC and release him as soon as they have the canister. Apparently they told him that they have ballistic missiles that Xanasa can’t hack. Of course, this is rubbish, but it’s imperative that w
e pick this canister up before the CIA locates it.”
I’d been hoping for xanacea, sleep and a holiday as reward for my efforts. Instead, I commandeered a drone to take me to the port where Charco had left the boat. Fortunately, it was still there. I woke the captain and emphasised the urgency of our return trip.
As I settled down to sleep, Max interrupted.
“Xanasa has sent an encrypted message to the Chief of Tampa Police. It will appear to have come via a secure link from the head of the FBI. It reads:
The gunman who evaded capture in the woods near St Petersburg is part of a drug smuggling gang. The FBI has reliable ‘intel’ that the gang is returning tonight to collect their hastily hidden cache. They’ll be heavily armed and masquerading as FBI agents complete with badges and authentic numbers.
Xanasa’s message concluded with the advice:
You should assemble a large armed unit to arrest them all.
This should provide some confusion while you find that canister, Zig. Good luck!”
The captain woke me with coffee as we approached the beach. I jumped onto my wave-skimmer wearing night vision glasses. Xanasa guided me to the position where I’d hidden from Karl. I’d no idea where he’d fired from, and Xanasa couldn’t help as Karl had got rid of his chip and was under the cover of the trees so that he couldn’t be seen from space. I systematically searched along the edge of the trees, slowly moving deeper into the wood. I still hadn’t found the stone when I heard a helicopter with bright searchlights approach. This was soon followed by a heated exchange as two groups of men wearing head torches started shouting at each other. I methodically continued my search and noticed a pale shape amongst the undergrowth just a couple of yards ahead of me. I hoped that this was Karl’s rock. The men had stopped arguing and now formed a line systematically searching the undergrowth and heading my way, the searchlights from the helicopter creating a swathe of brilliance a few yards ahead of them. Anxiously, I felt around the base of the rock and touched a cold object almost completely buried in the sand. The helicopter’s light was only about thirty metres away and closing rapidly. I unscrewed the top and flung the powdered contents deep into the undergrowth, filled the canister with sand, screwed the top on and replaced it near the rock. I then took twenty quick paces away from the light and hid in the undergrowth. I’d hoped they would stop at the rock and I could sneak away while they were preoccupied with their search. It was all going to plan until one of the men moved away from the rock, turned his head torch off and stood about a metre from me. He unzipped and started to piss. I must have subconsciously shifted to avoid the splashes. He switched on his torch and looked straight at me!
“Don’t move an inch!”
I froze as his automatic rifle rose into a firing position.
“Hands in the air.”
I was used to the routine now.
“On your knees.”
I was soon cuffed and roughly bundled into the chopper.
I was shoved into the same spartan police interrogation room as last night. I had a few moments to collect my thoughts. A furious CIA interrogator threw open the door and made me sit on the floor while he took the only chair. He made the policeman last night seem like a wet nurse.
“You have no rights at all. The president of the USA has personally given me permission to ignore the Geneva Convention. This time, I want the truth, not the load of bollocks you gave that idiot policeman last night. If I don’t like what you tell me, I’ll leave you to my friend.”
At this point, a heavily tattooed thug of a man made his perfectly timed entrance.
I paused for a moment, hoping that Xanasa was listening in.
“I lied yesterday. I was chasing an employee of Xantec’s; there was no American involved. The man I was chasing is called Karl Johansson. He fired on me, not the other way round. We know Karl has paranoid schizophrenia with grandiose delusions. He was once an important Commissioner on our board of directors, but for the last 4 years, he’s been locked away in a secure psychiatric hospital. Well, I say secure, but clearly it wasn’t as secure as we’d hoped. We knew that he’d escaped and had access to a gun. This is why we were trying to apprehend him yesterday; we didn’t want him to cause an international incident by harming an American citizen. We should’ve informed you and for this I apologise. After we captured him and returned him to the hospital, he told us that he’d been in communication with someone from the CIA. He’d apparently told them that he’d hidden a canister with valuable material in it. We suspected that this was all part of his delusional state, but I was sent back to try to find the canister. I’d found nothing by the time your roughnecks arrested me.”
“Frankly, that sounds even more ridiculous than the bullshit you concocted last night. We’ve found the canister and its contents are being analysed as we speak.”
He glared at me as he went to leave, passing me with only a few inches to spare. I thought he might kick me. As the door slammed shut, I was thankful to have got through the first interview unharmed. I must’ve fallen asleep on the floor as I woke to the door creaking open. A distinguished-looking man in a crisp suit was towering over me.
“I’m Craig Leporte. I’m a barrister hired by Commander Spitzen to defend you. Come take this seat; I’ll happily stand for a moment. The contents of the canister turned out to be dry sand. The only crime you’ve committed is illegal entry. Commander Spitzen has assured me that she’ll pay the fine. If you are okay with pleading guilty, I’ll get on with arranging a plea bargain. You should be home within forty-eight hours.”
True to his word, I was back at CRC the following day. I learnt that Karl would be held for the rest of his life in the high security prison deep within the mountain at CRC.
Charco and I were given a three-week holiday, partially as reward, but mainly to allow us to recover from our ordeal. It was late January and the weather was set fair in southern Chile. We set off to trek through the Torres del Paine National Park.
The American election of 2052
On our return, we were told that Commander Spitzen had summoned all Commissioners for a meeting in the Great Hall. It was empty and bleak when I’d seen it before. It was now full of energy with exuberant Commissioners chatting to their friends. A reverberating Tibetan gong was struck, and as its vibrations diminished, we all turned to the podium. Silence descended as Max entered.
“I’ve four announcements to make today. Eleven years ago, our research teams successfully nurtured monkeys in incubators from embryo to delivery. Our scientists have overcome the problem of these babies having sterile guts. The newborn monkeys have a syringe filled with their mother’s liquidised faeces and vaginal fluid squirted down their throats. Since this modification, they have remained perfectly healthy, and have indeed lived rather longer than the control group. At that time, it had become increasingly difficult to find women willing to be surrogates to carry our clones. For the last ten years, all our clones have been successfully nurtured in similar incubators. We’ve been able to produce thirty thousand a year. In six years’ time, the first of these clones will be fully trained.
Secondly, many of you know that Xanasa is infused with chemicals that prevent her from ageing. I’m proud to announce that my daughter’s research team have perfected the dosage of these medicines for humans. Clones that are over sixteen have been given these for five years with no ill effects. The clones don’t appear to have aged at all in that time. Our scientists believe that humans taking these drugs will age slowly because of solar and background radiation, but this should be at less than a tenth of normal ageing speed. You are the elite who both control society and improve it through research. The more experience you have, the better it is for everyone. Therefore, from tomorrow, you’ll all have a weekly injection to slow ageing.
Thirdly, many years ago, I allowed some of my researchers to have sabbaticals to work with other advanced AI projects aroun
d the world. They were instructed to place hidden viruses in the AI programs which Xanasa could activate remotely. Yesterday, Xanasa reported that AI systems around the world have been irreparably damaged. We have taken this step to ensure that no other countries will be able to develop AI that could compete with Xanasa. Because of this, we should remain safe from a military attack for the foreseeable future.
Finally, the US presidential elections occur in just under nine months’ time. You’ll be aware that the Democrat candidate, Sophia Mezvinsky, has made it clear that if elected, she will be inviting us to make the USA as successful as CASAR. At present, the polls are predicting that Sophia will win with a landslide. We have to be ready if this translates into reality. The Board has been preparing for a year. We’ll have our shark-mole drills and robots ready, should she win.
None of this will work unless we have won over the hearts and minds of American citizens. This is where you all have such an important role. Now that CASAR is stable, we believe that 10,000 Commissioners can administer it. We’ll need our 30,000 researchers to continue at CRC. This leaves 100,000 of you to persuade the people to vote for Sophia, and if she wins to help them adapt. You must prepare them for a complete cessation of carbon fuel within two years. By then, the hyperloop tunnels will be complete; all cars and drones will be electric. There will only be three airports for international flights. Commercial airports will be converted into factories. Boats, farm machinery and factories will be powered by electricity.
At the end of this meeting, Xanasa will inform you which state you’ve been allocated to, who’s in charge of your state and which area you’re responsible for.”
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Two days later, I was flying into JFK Airport. I’d never been to the USA before. When I arrived in New York, I found the noise and exhaust fumes very unpleasant. Everyone was rushing about their business. I couldn’t read people like I could back home; they seemed very unfriendly. I was rather scared, especially as I knew it was legal for people to carry guns. I wanted to see the Museum of Modern Art as Petra had said how much she’d enjoyed it. I was just walking out of Central Park when I saw a group of men who all had the most startling green hair that was stiffened with some sort of gel so that it seemed to shoot straight out of their scalps for about ten inches. This had to be photographed.