about them.”
Neither of them dared say anything. Assuming that the room was bugged.
// George, Alex.
As they walked in the direction of the water, she sought out his hand, and held it. Tightly. He smiled. Then lost himself in thoughts of where and when. They stood at the sunset. Her head found his shoulder.
It was no larger than a small bird. If you saw it from more than ten metres distance, it might be mistaken for a sparrow. The two counter-rotating rotors kept is perfectly still when it hovered. If it leaned forward then it could advance at about ten kilometres an hour. Its body was really no more than a metal skeleton. Being so small, it was unlikely to meet any opposition. If it wasn’t for the rotors spinning it would be almost invisible.
The small cousin of the large drones, it was called a mini drone, or more accurately a micro drone. It made its way down Victoria Parade, hovering just above the tram lines. If it stayed below the tree line then it was almost invisible from street level. Coming to La Trobe Street, it rose over the tree line, and gained altitude. Hugging the apartments, in the late afternoon sun. In the sharp light from the walls of glass, nobody noticed it. The street surveillance cameras were all pointing in the direction of the crowds milling about, making their way home.
It didn’t need any detailed control. With a target programmed it was almost completely autonomous. Of course it provided monitoring to it’s launchers, but it didn’t need to be steered.
Crossing Swanston Street it suddenly descended, to dodge a drone going north south. This was almost a central corridor for drones. It rotated and fluttered, as if it was going to fall out of the sky. Being so light though it recovered in an instant, heading towards Docklands.
At the next block, it changed modes. Now it was in target searching mode. It could tap into the street level cameras, in the search for only one of those faces. At first nothing came, so it hovered, waiting. Maybe the face was not on the street.
In a single motion, the face came, and it began its descent. Even in a crowd it could distinguish between the targets. There were two people walking ahead, slowly. It looped back and sought the faces. Fortunately they were unshaded, and it had the target on the right.
Falling to only a metre above the pavement, it began its advance. A final check on systems, and getting ready. Rising to shoulder level, holding a steady course.
// Mia
Mia was daydreaming, leaning back on her chair. Not really paying attention to the screens. Taking refuge in that nothing serious was happening. With Oscar and Michael returned, she anticipated that soon a new message would be forthcoming. Until then, it was a relief to take it slowly, just drift.
It was nothing, but it was something. A window appeared of a street scene. A couple walking very slowly. Long shot, from behind. Something familiar. She leaned the chair forward, and recognised George and Alex.
The system labelled them in red. Then pulled back even further, labeling other dots. As if taking her through it by pointing and showing trajectories.
Oscar had turned and was paying attention also. Something was happening. Now it was labelled “micro drone attack”.
At first George was inclined to busy out the call. Then he saw who it was from. He answered, and the tone in Mia’s voice communicated much more than the words.
“Don’t talk. There is a drone targetting Alex. Grab her and drop. Now.”
George looked back over his shoulder, as he grabbed Alex. Diving for the pavement. It was close. The drone diving, as they fell, in an awful embrace, the syringe plunging forward, making contact with Alex’s shoulder.
“I’m ok...” Alex said.
Mia glanced quickly at the screens. The drone had bounced on the pavement. Now she was shouting at George.
“Grab the drone. Grab the drone.” she said.
He looked startled. He could see it about two metres away, floundering on the ground. Struggling to become airborne.
“Stomp it. Break it.” she said.
Now he was in motion. It almost appeared to be startled, as it stuttered, and fought to leave the ground. George lead with his foot, it was so small, so fragile and it was crushed beneath his foot.
“Got it.” he said to Mia
“Are you ok?” he asked Alex.
“Yes, I’m fine. Don’t worry.” she said
George wasn’t going to take any chances.
“I need an ambulance. La Trobe Street, 90 meters south of police headquarters.” he spoke into the phone. There was a seat, and he half-carried her towards it. She was still unsteady on her feet.
“You worry too much.” she said
“Show me.” he said
Alex pulled aside her shirt, and there it was. A red mark on her shoulder, where the syringe had found its target, but interrupted in the process of delivering the deadly goods.
George didn’t want to think about the possibilities. None of them were good. It seemed as if the ambulance was taking weeks to arrive, but his phone told him it was no more than minutes.
“Tried to inject her with something.” he said. It sounded delusional when he explained it to the ambulance officers. As if both of them were junkies. They knew who he was, and for once it worked in his favour.
He raised Alice.
“I’m on the way to hospital with Alex.” he said
“What’s wrong?”
George went through the micro-drone description. Trying to downplay it, so that Alex would not be too alarmed. Alice’s questions were his questions.
// Mia
She pointed to the nearest screen and turned to Michael.
“I’ve got a login here, but need to explore.”
“Looking for?”
“Anything and everything.”
He surveyed it. Then hesitated.
“OK. I’ll prowl about for a bit.”
He began with a survey of the file structure. A full display of all of the directories, sub-directories. But the drone stuff was of most interest.
“Drones.” he said, and brought up the display of that part of the file structure.
“Get the full spec on them. Model numbers.” she said.
Mia was becoming nervous. To linger here was to invite interest. Some scanning program looking for unusual patterns of access. She didn’t have the history for this user, and couldn’t mask what they were doing.
He extracted the directory with all of the drone drivers, and data files. In a sense better than just the model numbers as they could check the software update state. Get a complete picture.
“We better be quick with this. Have a go at the email.”
“Extract it?”
“Yes, that would be best. We can search through it here.”
Michael only took a few minutes, and the email backup, together with the latest email was on their system.
“We better wipe our feet on the way out.” Mia said
This was a reference to the system logs. Which would keep a record of all of the actions he and Mia had performed. It took a little longer, but he deleted all traces that they had been there. No guarantees, but at least they kept a low profile.
Michael turned to Mia, pleased to have completed all that so fast.
“So now we go to the backers and ask them what they want with this?” he asked.
“Not exactly. They don’t work that way.”
“As in they don’t have conversations.”
“No. Just issue instructions.”
// Steve
“All faces coincident with target.” he asked of the wall.
“Affiliations.”
But it wasn’t that simple. An array of affiliations, no direct connections. He slumped back in the chair, realising that of course it wasn’t going to be that simple. Opening up a connection to Alan, he asked.
“If I wanted to communicate with somebody but not leave a visual trace, or a network trace, how do I do it?”
“Crossing to the dark side are we. Got a drug
deal on the move?”
“Seriously.”
“There are ways. I’ll come up.”
Steve explained it all. He brought up the movement traces. Alan smiled.
“So how does he communicate?”
Alan surveyed the wall. Brought up the faces. He turned to the wall microphone.
“Stationary for more than thirty seconds. Public place.” he asked
He took the mouse and rolled slowly over the videos. Searching for what he was looking for. It took quite a while.
“There.” he said.
“What. He’s looking at his phone.” Steve said.
“He’s opening up a bluetooth connection.”
“How?”
Steve turned to the wall.
“Aerial view.” he said
“Zoom.”
Sure enough, the drone view showed the phone screen. The opening of the connection.
“Local range only. There will be a transmitter within ten metres.”
“Totally local.”
“Off the grid.”
“Yes.”
“Untraceable.”
“Yes.”
Hidden information. But it also communicated important information.
“Thanks.” Steve said
“Wish I could be of more help.” Alan said
“No, it’s great.”
“We tag him?” Steve asked
“Not enough. He connects to the bluetooth. I expect that the box he talks to will disappear soon after he has made the connection.” Alice said.
“Pay a street kid to collect it and dump it in the river.”
“Yes. So even if we scan surveillance all we get is a nondescript doing a carry.”
“We’re going to have to retrieve one of these things.”
“Catch him in the act?”
“Yes.”
Steve looked again at the wall’s display of his movements. He needed another way of looking at it. To see if there was any regularity to it.
“Period between stationary episodes of