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Authors: Catherine Jinks

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This became even more glaringly obvious when Cadel peered through the second door on the right, and saw about a dozen computers lining the walls of the room beyond.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Thi, from behind him. ‘It’s a self-contained system. There’s no connection with the outside world.’

‘It’s a
virtual Internet,
’ Hamish announced, from inside the computer room. He was perched on a kitchen stool next to the door. With him were Richard Buckland, Gazo Kovacs, and two other people: a lanky, raw-boned, bearded hippy sporting a rat’s nest of blond dreadlocks, and a tall, plump, pimply youth whose foot was encased in a plaster cast. This cast was covered in ciphers and mathematical equations, all painstakingly inscribed with a ballpoint pen. The owner of the cast wore a baseball cap over a long greasy ponytail, and a t-shirt bearing the words ‘I’ve been a bad Boyd’.

Cadel realised that he
did
know Boyd – at least by sight. Boyd was a prominent member of Richard Buckland’s Advanced
Programming class, always spilling soft drinks and tripping over electrical cords. Boyd’s high-pitched, nasal voice was as familiar as his fingerless gloves, which he never took off. Hamish had often theorised that ‘the big, fat guy in the baseball cap’ must have been born with hairy palms, or six fingers on one hand. ‘He’s hiding something,’ Hamish had repeatedly insisted. ‘Maybe a really sick tattoo. Or maybe someone tried to crucify him once, and the scars are still there.’

Cadel didn’t know exactly how Boyd had broken his leg, but had a sneaking suspicion that it hadn’t been done on a football field, or a basketball court.

‘Isn’t this fantastic?’ Hamish went on. ‘I wish
I
had a virtual Internet to play with.’

‘It has air-gap security,’ Thi offered, just as the doorbell rang. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘That must be Vijay.’ And he went off to admit yet another member of Richard’s wardriving team.

‘It’s a closed circle, this system,’ Hamish finished. ‘There isn’t any way in, unless you’re sitting right here. So it’s safer than it looks.’ With a sigh, he added, ‘I wish
I
was rich.’

‘You
are
bloody rich!’ yelped the hippy. ‘You’ve got your own car, haven’t you?’

‘So have you,’ Hamish retorted.

‘Yeah, but I
stole
mine,’ the hippy pointed out, before erupting into an abrasive cackle.

Cadel decided:
You must be Duke.
He had heard about Duke.

‘This is Duke,’ said Hamish, by way of confirmation. ‘He bb-brought a car with him.’

‘Which he stole,’ Saul concluded, sourly eyeing the dread-locks. He had already ripped off his
chador,
exposing his sweaty, rumpled hair and grim expression.

Duke’s answering grin revealed that he had lost at least one tooth.

‘Only from my dad,’ he said. ‘And it was never reported.’

‘He’s joking,’ Hamish assured the detective, who sighed. Cadel knew that Duke didn’t have a police record. Upon hearing that Hamish intended to bring one of his computer-gaming
buddies along on Richard’s wardriving exercise, Saul had immediately run a check on Duke, but had discovered nothing sinister about him. Duke was twenty-six years old. He worked in a warehouse, lived with his two elder brothers, and was trying to pay off several overdue parking fines. According to Hamish, Duke was such a video-game addict that he’d been thrown out by three successive girlfriends – though Cadel doubted very much that this was true. It was hard to believe that
any
girl would be interested in such a scruffy, hollow-chested, rootless obsessive.

Hamish was full of stories about Duke, who had once stayed up for fifty-three hours straight, consuming litres of coffee and cola, as he struggled to defeat an American opponent. Duke often peed into a bottle, rather than getting up from his keyboard. He was known to have lost six jobs because of his all-night, online gaming habit. In the circumstances, Cadel felt sure that if any girl had ever let Duke into her home, she would have done so out of pity, and would have made him sleep on the living-room floor.

‘What’s with the flippers?’ asked Boyd. He was gaping at Cadel, who had already removed four layers of woollen beanie, after spitting out a mouthful of cotton gauze. ‘No one said anything about going for a swim.’

‘They’re a security measure,’ Saul explained. ‘Those flippers affect the way Cadel walks.’

‘We discussed this, Boyd,’ Richard gently interposed. ‘It’s all about video analytics, remember?’

‘Oh. Yeah. Right,’ said Boyd. And Duke said, ‘Man, you guys look like
total freaks
!’

Cadel bit back the obvious retort – which was that Duke looked like a bigger freak than anyone, with his musty dread-locks and missing tooth. There was no point taking issue with a person who obviously didn’t know enough to go to the dentist, occasionally.

Peeling off a flipper, Cadel resolved to stay calm and focused, no matter what.

‘So which one are you?’ Duke went on, studying Saul with an almost manic curiosity. ‘Are you the cop, or the stink-bomb guy, or what?’

‘He’s the cop,’ said Hamish, causing Duke to raise his hands in an attitude of mock surrender, crying, ‘It’s all right, officer! I’ll be good! I’ve never had one single speeding ticket in my whole life – you ask anyone!’

‘Don’t worry about Duke,’ Hamish declared. ‘I’ll keep an eye on him.’

‘No you won’t.’ Saul folded his arms, and was about to elaborate when Thi reappeared on the threshold, escorting three newcomers. Cadel knew the smallest of them, whose name was Egon, and who invariably sat in the front row of Richard’s Advanced Programming lectures. Egon had a conspicuously large, beaky nose under an eye-catching crop of fuzzy black curls. He always dressed in the same baggy, stained sweatshirt that hung halfway down to his knees; from the rolled-up wrists of this sweatshirt, his thin and brittle wrists protruded like a pair of ivory chopsticks, attached to a couple of disproportionately large hands. But the most noticeable thing about Egon was his grouchy expression. It never changed. He looked permanently dissatisfied, and resentful, and put-upon.

If he was pleased about his invitation to Thi’s house, it certainly didn’t show. He was wearing a discontented scowl, as usual.

‘Okay, everyone – this is Egon,’ said Thi. ‘And this is Vijay, and this is Vijay’s dad … uh … Mr Naidoo.’

‘I will be providing a car, and also my services as a driver,’ Mr Naidoo advised the gathering. He was a solid, balding, middle-aged man in a suit and tie. ‘Good morning, Mr Buckland. We met once before, I think.’

‘Yes,’ Richard confirmed, leaning over to shake hands. ‘Thanks very much for coming. We need all the help we can get.’

‘No problem,’ Mr Naidoo said expansively. His son remained silent and poker-faced; unlike the other teenagers in the room, Vijay had donned a neatly pressed shirt, a blue blazer, and dark
trousers with a crease ironed into the front of each leg. His hair was beautifully cut, and he had remarkably clear skin. Yet somehow he wasn’t memorable. Cadel couldn’t recall having seen him in Richard’s class.

‘All right.’ Saul abruptly called the meeting to order, glancing around the overcrowded room with quiet authority. ‘Is everyone here, now? Where’s your girlfriend, Mr Thuoy? I thought she was going to help out?’

‘She is,’ Thi assured him. ‘She had to go to the library, but she’ll be back soon.’

‘In that case, if anyone wants to relieve themselves, you should go now,’ the detective advised. ‘Because once this thing gets started, there won’t be any rest-stops. You’ll have to wait till we’re through.’

‘Bathroom’s next door,’ Thi added, at which point Gazo began to make a slightly sheepish exit, muttering apologies as he sidled past various clumps of people. As soon as he’d disappeared, Egon said, in tones of caustic disapproval, ‘Who the hell was that? Haven’t I seen him
mowing grass
somewhere?’

Cadel couldn’t help bristling, but it was Saul who answered. After regarding Egon for a moment, the detective said, ‘That’s Gazo. He has high-level security clearance, and he’s going to be one of our drivers.’

Egon sniffed. ‘And who might you be?’ he asked, with the air of someone determined to be unimpressed, no matter what Saul decided to say. ‘Are you the copper Richard was talking about?’

‘That’s right. My name is Detective Inspector Saul Greeniaus, and I’ve been helping to coordinate this exercise with Mr Buckland, here.’

Mr Naidoo cleared his throat. ‘Essentially, however, this
is
a university project, is it not?’ he said quickly, seeking reassurance from Richard. ‘It’s an extra-curricular assignment option delivering additional course credits. Am I right, Mr Buckland?’

‘More or less,’ Richard agreed. ‘But we’ll be helping the police, as well.’

‘Does that mean you’ll forget all about my parking fines?’ Duke joked, energetically scratching his scalp as he addressed Saul. ‘Since I’m not getting marked on this, I deserve
some
kinda payback.’

‘Traffic violations aren’t my job, Mr Moloney,’ the detective rejoined. He was about to continue when keys jingled, hinges creaked, and a screen door banged shut somewhere nearby. Cadel heard footsteps, then a melodious female voice.

‘Thi? Are you home?’

‘In here!’ Thi called, before announcing to the rest of the group, ‘Snezana’s back.’

Snezana’s appearance caused a sudden hush. Jaws dropped in perfect unison as she paused on the threshold of Thi’s computer room, because she was tall and willowy, with enormous grey eyes and long dark hair that fell to her waist. With her lush lips, fine skin, exotic jewellery, stylish clothes and high-heeled boots, she could have been a fashion model. Even Mr Naidoo looked slightly dazed at the sight of her.

Saul raised his eyebrow a fraction.

‘Sorry I’m late.’ Snezana sounded genuinely apologetic. ‘There was roadwork.’

‘We haven’t even got started,’ said Thi. Then Duke butted in.

‘Are you
really
Thi’s girlfriend?’ he demanded, goggling at Snezana. ‘Or did he hire you for the day?’

Boyd snickered. Egon rolled his eyes. Saul said sharply, ‘Ms Zivanovic is studying costume design, and has very kindly offered to help us with certain security measures we have to take.’ Before anyone could question him about these security measures, he turned to Hamish. ‘For instance, you’ll need some extra padding in various places. And so will Gazo.’


Me?
’ Hamish was dismayed. ‘Why me?’

‘Because you and Cadel are known associates,’ the detective replied. ‘I shouldn’t have to tell you this, Hamish.’

‘But I’m not even using my own car!’ Hamish protested. ‘I’ll be in Duke’s dad’s car!’

‘No, you won’t.’ Saul raised his voice to harangue the entire
group. Despite (or because of) his flowing black garments, he cut a very imposing figure. ‘That’s the first thing I wanted to say, before handing these proceedings over to Richard Buckland,’ he continued. ‘Mr Buckland will be in charge of the technical side, but I’ll be managing the security of this operation. And if anyone’s got a problem with the rules that I’m about to lay down … well, let’s just say they’re non-negotiable.’

‘I still don’t see why we have to wear idiot disguises,’ Hamish complained. (Clearly, the detective’s warning had fallen on deaf ears.) ‘Why not just sit in the back of a van, or something? No one would see us then.’

‘Unless you had to get out!’ Saul bluntly swatted this suggestion aside. ‘Besides, I’ve been told that you’ll do a better job of tracking signals if you can pinpoint locations visually, as well.’

He paused for a moment as Gazo slunk back into the room. Had Snezana not been present, Gazo’s return might have occasioned nothing more than a few careless glances. But when Gazo saw Snezana, he flushed, hesitated, then made a rapid withdrawal. Within seconds he was gone.

After a moment, the front door slammed.


Gazo?
’ Saul yelled after him. Everyone else stared in amazement.

‘Where’s
he
off to?’ Egon finally growled.

Nobody answered. Thi turned to Saul.

‘Shall I go and see what’s wrong?’ he asked.

Again, there was no reply. The detective’s startled gaze flickered towards his foster son, who suddenly realised what had happened. Snezana must have been too big a shock for Gazo to absorb. He must have ducked outside, just in case he lost control of himself.

He had been trying to protect them all from his unfortunate stress response.

‘Just leave him alone,’ said Cadel. ‘He’ll be fine.’

‘Are you sure?’ Snezana’s tone was mildly concerned. ‘If he’s feeling sick, he’s welcome to lie down upstairs.’

‘No.’ Cadel was adamant. ‘Gazo has these funny spells. We can always brief him when … um … when he’s a bit calmer.’

‘Oh! Right.’ Hamish wasn’t stupid; as the penny dropped, he began to smirk. And something about this smirk enlightened Saul. With a start, the detective finally grasped what was going on.

‘Oh. Ah. I see.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Well … as I was saying, it’s vital that we take certain precautions. For example, some of us will have to change our appearance slightly, just in case we’re being monitored.’ Anticipating the protest that was almost certainly forming on Egon’s tongue (to judge from his outraged expression), Saul added, ‘This of course applies
only
to people who’ve had extended dealings with Cadel in the past. People like Hamish and Gazo –’

‘And me?’ Thi interjected. ‘We’ve talked in the labs, once or twice.’

‘No.’ Saul shook his head. ‘Passing acquaintances don’t count. They wouldn’t be subject to the kind of surveillance that we’re trying to dodge, here.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Which brings me to my next point. I don’t know some of the people in this room, and that’s a security risk. So every one of you will be teaming up with a stranger. That way, if anybody feels like deviating from the official plan, it’s gonna be reported.’ Studying the array of astonished and confused faces in front of him, he finished with a firm, ‘I hope you can all see the sense in this arrangement.’

Hamish immediately stuck his hand in the air. ‘Bags I get a lift with Snezana!’ he chirruped, eliciting a giggle from Boyd, a groan from Duke, and a grimace from Egon. Mr Naidoo, however, ignored Hamish completely, addressing Saul with an air of concern.

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