The Hunt for Pierre Jnr (7 page)

‘Can we see the lower grades, please?’ Gail asked. ‘Just to see.’

‘Of course. They are just down this way.’

~ * ~

As they took off from the islands, Geof reported a mass collapse at a school in the Dakotas, and they were redirected toward the midlands.

Pete: What’s the connection?
 He was only just getting comfortable with querying through his bot.

Geof: Gail Pembroke is recorded as being a visitor at the time of the syncopation, but there is no record of her leaving. She and her husband, Newton, disappeared from the Weave nearly two weeks ago; no recordings of children.

Pete: So where are you sending us?

Geof: We have the squib Mistress Pembroke was travelling in, and from its log we can deduce her itinerary over the last fortnight. Services are covering each drop, but you’re going to a farm, out past the brushes. That’s where I think Pierre has been hiding all this time.

Tamsin: Okay, send us what you know — who owns the place, who should be there, and any other missing people who might be involved.

Geof: Already compiled and streaming.

Tamsin: A step ahead as usual.

Pete: Have you seen the interviews?

Geof: Most of them.

Pete: What do you think?

Geof: I think we need to find this kid before he starts up again.

Pete: And Mary? About what Pierre Snr said, is she a clone?

Geof: I have nothing that says she is.

Pete: Okay.

Tamsin deigned to raise an eyebrow at him. ‘Why does it bother you so much if she’s a clone or not?’

‘It would be interesting if it was true.’

‘I don’t see the relevance.’

‘How do you hide your mind from me like that?’

‘That would take time to explain, and I don’t think you could stand me for that long.’

It is unfortunate that I can’t hide my mind from you.

‘What? You don’t like it? I imagine this must feel pretty uncomfortable for you.’

…

‘Yep. Not used to playing without the advantage, are you?’

…

‘What’s my body language saying to you? Do you know how to read body language, Pete?’

…

‘What are you gleaning from the timbre of my voice?’

…

‘Why, Peter. Those are quite mixed emotions. I don’t know how you stand the conflict.’

…

‘Would you like a peek?’

…

Below them, the mottle of the landscape cascaded into shapes and lines. Old fields, scratched with the torn and toppled structures of bankrupt endeavours, divided by weather breakers of all sorts and quality. Barns, farmhouses, the spinal remnants of long fences, wrecked turbines and a generation of people beyond repair.

Few properties were managing to establish their prescribed micro-climates, but those that did dotted the land with their productive greens and golds.

Pete and Tamsin’s squib banked south, momentarily tipping their view toward the gigantic black funnels of a windeater — flexible piping that transduced wind to electricity. They worked to serve two purposes, but they didn’t work enough.

The midlands was a waste. Only evangelists and recidivists stuck it out for long. A great place for Pierre to hide out — one of Geof’s grey areas — but not the ideal environment for a growing mind.

‘You shouldn’t think of him that way,’ Tamsin told Pete.

‘Why not?’

‘He chose it.’

‘He was an infant. He fled without direction.’

‘You don’t know that. And besides, he stayed.’

Pete left it alone. She was right, but she didn’t know for certain either. He saw her smirk. 
I hate telepaths,
 he thought, and she laughed.

~ * ~

Beneath them a sepia yard wavered in the wind. Farming tools lay collapsed and overcome by the patchy crab grass. Window shutters shifted slowly back and forth. All the buildings were covered in the same faded dust.

The squibs settled facing the farmhouse. Pete watched through the screen, looking for any sign of life. The escorts unpacked their servitors, who then arrayed themselves on either side of the vehicle, waiting for Pete and Tamsin to lead them in.

‘What a great place to grow up.’

‘Exactly what I was going to say.’ Tamsin grinned. ‘Shall we?’

‘Do you think he’s in there?’ asked Pete.

‘No. It’s quiet. If he was in there, I’d be able to tell by now, and so would you.’

‘Unless he knows your trick. There’s something in there.’

‘Don’t be so nervous.’ Tamsin popped the hatch. ‘He’s long gone, Pete — if he was ever here in the first place.’

Pete took a deep breath and climbed out after her, keeping a watch on the homestead. ‘Your power for doubt is incredible. You saw his parents.’

‘All I saw were two unreliable witnesses.’

Geof: Any time you two feel like heading in ... We’re all waiting here.

Pete nodded and looked at Tamsin. ‘Ladies first.’

‘I’ll watch your back.’

‘I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.’

‘It’ll keep you on your toes then.’

Geof: Pete! Just go in. I’ve got your back too.

There was no more excuse to delay, and Pete approached the creaking house. The path was dry under his feet, and the wood of the steps bowed under his weight.

‘Hello?’ he called out as he climbed the stairs, and then once more when he got to the porch. ‘Hello? Is anyone at home?’

‘Try knocking,’ Tamsin suggested.

Begrudgingly, he hammered his fist on the door frame and called out again.

They waited for something to happen. The shutters swept back and forth, and the structure whimpered under the growing wind.

Pete: Let’s send a servitor in.

‘Coward,’ Tamsin accused.

Geof: He’s right. Move aside so I can send a bot through.

‘Forget that.’ Tamsin pushed the door open and stepped inside. ‘Hello, householders. Services are entering your premises. Do not even attempt to resist.’

Pete followed her in, a grey sort of darkness thickening a few steps from the doorway.

‘Lazarus, get in here,’ Tamsin called, more emotionless than ever.

He found her in a lounging room, nearly full of dilapidated couches and armchairs, everything covered in dusty crochet and piles of discarded clothing.

‘Not clothes, Pete. They’re breathing.’

He looked closer and recognised them as bodies. There were four of them, two on chairs and two on the floor. ‘What’s wrong with them?’

‘I’m not sure. Is this what your sister was like?’

Pete shook his head. ‘No, it wasn’t this blatant.’

Tamsin knelt beside the closest of the crumpled forms. ‘I’m not reading anything from them. You?’

‘Something, but it’s odd. Stray thoughts. Incomplete —’

Arms shot up and suddenly fingers were clawing at Tamsin’s neck, dragging her down.

‘You shouldn’t have come here,’ the body rasped. ‘You shouldn’t have come here.’

Before Pete could help her, two more of the bodies had awakened and grabbed at him from behind. In his mind he heard one thought, 
you shouldn’t have come here
, echoed by four dry voices repeating the mantra as one.

‘You shouldn’t have come here.’

Pete: Geof!

It was less than a minute of desiccated fingers trying to pull off their skin and dusty bodies holding them down before the servitors swarmed into the room and tore their attackers away.

‘You shouldn’t have come here. You shouldn’t have come here. You shouldn’t have come here. You shouldn’t have come here,’ they repeated, rasping continuously as they were dragged outside.

Try as he might, Pete couldn’t read their thoughts. Pierre had reworked their minds into a composite, so that the first disturbed was a tripwire for the others. They all went crazy. Though he was sweating on the outside, fear had dried out his throat. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this. He’s ... I don’t know what he’s doing.’

‘Hakking,’ Tamsin supplied. ‘He took four people and fused them together.’

‘You’ve seen this before?’ Pete was alarmed.

‘Of course not. I’m just hypothesising.’

‘You admire him?’

Tamsin looked at him with her grin-smirk. ‘Don’t you? This is unprecedented.’

‘He’s demented,’ Pete protested. 
Look what he’s done to these people.
 ’This is inhuman.’

‘Is it? I think we’ll find before this is over that he is actually very human. More human than any single person should ever be.’ 
I am looking, Pete, and I’m impressed.

Impressed? A moment ago you didn’t even believe in him.

A little evidence can go a long way
, she thought back to him while watching the servitors drag the husks into the squib. Tamsin turned to him with a smile, her thoughts fading from his reach. ‘We should go. I have a lot to think about.’

~ * ~

Tamsin maintained her block in the squib, staring fixedly through the window at the ground passing below, not letting Pete see her thoughts or her face.

Pete kept taciturn, spending his time sending data back and forth with Geof, selecting images from his symbiot and flicking them across without commentary. Geof in turn fed him background information on the midlanders they’d found, mostly irrelevant details of their lives before they disappeared from the Weave.

Every now and then Tamsin or Pete would glance at the horizon toward the approaching weather front that now covered the skyline; the warning gauge amped up from dull amber to a piqued red until at last Colonel Pinter patched through and projected on the screen. ‘Mister Lazarus, Miz Grey, it looks like we’ve got some weather ahead and we’re going to have to land you quite soon.’

‘We can’t divert?’ Tamsin asked.

‘Only by turning back. We’ve been given clearance to land a few miles to the south, behind some brushes, and sit it through.’

‘Is that standard practice?’ Pete asked.

Pinter shrugged. ‘Oftentimes. This is quite a front coming on, so perhaps they think it’s better to bunk down than try to outpace it. Don’t worry, the squibs can take it. It may just get a little rocky.’

‘Okay, Colonel.’

‘When you’re down, please do not leave the safety of your vehicle.’

‘As you say, Colonel.’

‘It’s coming in fast so this should be over in a matter of hours, and the escorts will be about fifty feet away in case there’s an emergency. Even if the comms cut out through the worst of it, we’ll be able to keep you in sight.’

For our safety,
 Tamsin projected ironically.

Pete assented once more to the Colonel and caught Tamsin looking at him as he switched off the screen. 
What?

You’re trapped with me, Pete. No avoiding it for either of us.

No avoiding what?

Don’t be scared. You’ve got me all wrong.

They angled down steeply and Pete swallowed through the shaky descent. The mood of the landscape around them had changed remarkably in the last minutes. Clouds had blocked the sun, and what had been a golden hodgepodge of light and shadow was now discoloured to purple and grey. Shadow had disappeared and one could see the quick dimming toward black. The lights of the squibs pushed out as they neared the ground and curved in behind a dense brush wall. The brushes were tall artificial trees of plastic designed to cut and slow the wind. They would give some protection, though nothing could withstand the big storms.

Static washed over the speakers as they landed, the wind rolling the rounded hulls back and forth. A gust shoved them side to side and Pete put his arms out to steady himself, accidentally pressing his hand on Tamsin’s thigh. He jerked around to catch her grinning at him.

‘Really, Pete, at least turn the comms off,’ and she reached over to do just that.

‘No, I didn’t mean —’

‘Don’t be afraid.’

‘We should keep the comms on.’

‘That would be indiscreet, Peter,’ she said, running her fingers into his hair. As if to match her words, the squib jumped and rolled, pushing them into each other somewhat uncomfortably.
Somewhat.
 Tamsin laughed. ‘This 
is
 going to be fun.’ And then her lips were on his and her hands were under his shirt as the wind dragged the squib through the dirt like a plough.

‘No, Tamsin. I can’t.’

‘You can with me.’

‘No. It’s too much. I can’t.’ He’d stopped enjoying sex a long time ago. Knowing every thought that ran through his partners’ heads left him with the mixed emotions of anger, sorrow and disgust.

I know, Pete. But I’m different. I can block you out. You can be free with me. See?

Her block came back up, which was more of a disappearance for him, and he was left staring at her face. Just a face. Lips and skin, eyes and eyebrows. Eyelashes and fine wrinkles. The glint and glimmer on the iris as her eyes kept moving to capture his own. He couldn’t remember when he’d last seen 
just
 a face. Her dark hair blocked the overhead lighting, a corona of white flaring around the edges. Her eyes were black and steady, holding him to them, drawing him into their silence.