Nasty.”

  “The backers?”

  “I’ve got no way of knowing.” she said.

  They watched the scenery fly past. Soon the tram would be at Fitzroy Street, making its way around the foreshore.

  “None of the stuff in the apartment will have links back.” she said.

  “Unless they have bugs.”

  “I don’t think they do.”

  Which of course begged the question of why they were taking such elaborate precautions.

  “An event that they will want to monitor. They send drones. We capture one, and put a trapdoor into it.”

  Oscar turned to face Mia.

  “High risk.” he said.

  “Only way.”

  “What sort of event?”

  “I think this is all about the Peregrini and the developers. I’ll talk to George.”

  Before the tram reached its final destination, Oscar exited the tram and quickly headed up a narrow street, too narrow for the drones to follow him. Heading in the direction of a train station. They would both end up back at the apartment, but by different paths.

  // George

  He took a sharp left at the exit of the fun palace, and put on a hood and glasses. Blending himself into the crowd. Heading for the center of the city. Along Flinders Street and into Degraves Street. The back street laneways were too narrow for the drones to get clear line of sight. Which had served to make them even more popular.

  It didn’t take long for Mia to appear. Dressed much like him, but looking as if she belonged in the gear.

  “Melbourne. In its essence.” he said

  “I never really much liked this place. But it’s the only place out of drone range.” she said

  Cutting to the chase, Mia explained what she wanted him to do.

  “Feeding me to the lions. You can imagine what the system will do to me.” he said.

  “You’re not really worried about that. The day you looked us up, you had already decided.”

  He looked up, straight into her eyes.

  “Yes.” he said, and made his way back to the fun palace.

  // George

  Alice and Steve sat quietly. The wall had the Dennis video looping in the background. George was preparing himself. Finally, he spoke.

  “Development. They would politely call it ‘transition engineering’ or something like that. Those that don’t actually use the Peregrini benefit from the climate of fear and disruption. The good citizens get put off balance, kept off balance and eventually the bulldozers get their way.”

  Alice looked to the wall.

  “Which brings us to the small matter of evidence.” she said.

  “Yes. Everyone here knows that as soon as they put something into bits it will find its way to us. So they don’t commit any plans to digital form. They mask conversations. No records.”

  “Only actions.” she said.

  “Yes. They have to come out into the open to achieve their objectives. Same for the backers of Ctrl-X”

  “You’ve talked to Mia?”

  “Yes. I don’t think she knows who the backers are, and she would like to know. So would we.”

  He paused. Something caught his eye. The doors to the fun palace hesitated, opened, then shut again. Alex walked slowly through the doors, gingerly stepping forward. George rushed to support her.

  “I thought...” he said

  “I’m fine. I’m fine. Don’t fuss. It was just too boring there.”

  Alice and Steve hovered. Pleased to see her vertical, but concerned.

  “Go on with your work. Don’t mind me.” Alex said.

  They could hardly do that. Given everything, they were not about to send her somewhere. In a sense she was in the safest place possible. She knew that.

  George turned to Alice.

  “The Peregrini.” he said.

  “You want me to join.”

  “Yes. It’s the only way. We will tag you to the max. You will become an evidence vacuum cleaner.”

  Alice refrained from stating the obvious, that they might as well paint a target on her back.

  // Mia

  All she was given was a location, a large building, and a task. Gather everything possible, as quickly as possible. Throwing the dust seemed the only way.

  After ten the drift into the cafes ground to a halt. Like farmers sowing seeds they had thrown as many as they could. There was nothing more to do until they came out again. If they had thrown too many then a general alert would be triggered and everyone would be scanned. Then they would get nothing. But if they had thrown wisely, or luckily, then one or two of the chips would bring forth something.

  For the harvesting of information they could use the drones. The dust only had a few hundred metres range. The micro drones would hover low and attempt to harvest. One small chip would take its data and throw it into their waiting arms. Or not.

  Back in the apartment they waited. The early scans had given nothing.

  “Core systems people leave later?” Mia said

  “Or indulging in wishful thinking?” Oscar said

  Everything coming in or out was encrypted. But the chips picked up internal network communication from stray fields. Not that they were going to get a password or something like that. Almost everything had a biometric cover anyway. But enough related information could be used to synthesise. If they were lucky.

  “Something.” Mia said

  They started to get small feeds. Nothing in itself, but a beginning. Like a farmer gathering the crops. Small handfuls only gradually assembled into a big pile to be carted away.

  // Alice

  It wasn’t hard to follow the instructions at first. At least to get to Beaconsfield Parade. Then she had to follow the phone as she got closer. No address given, just go this way, then that way. She turned into Ashworth Street, an alley and kept walking. No sign of a shop or an office, as she had expected.

  As she passed a garage, the door opened.

  “Alice?”

  “Yes.”

  “Come in.”

  It was not what she expected at all. Not your hard core terrorist enclave. More a group of volunteers working on signs, and what looked like art works. Her host was tall, dark and serious looking. Sort of an ‘in-charge’ person without the trimmings. Along one wall were placards ‘people places, not money places’, ‘peregrini’.

  “I am Anita.”

  “Alice, of course, you know that.Thanks for letting me come.” Alice said. “I’ve been concerned about the issue for so long.”

  She was trying to look like an enthusiastic amateur and hoping she made it ok.

  “How much do you know about us?”

  “Only the name, the reputation, what my friends told me. I don’t really follow the media.”

  “Nobody really does, do they..” she said. “Where to begin. We are agitators for the new city. Some like to portray us as a front for the developers, but we are our own people here. For too long it’s been impossible for anyone of working age to own a place to live. Hence the name, Peregrini. Sort of like the almost slaves. Closed out of the system.”

  “Sure. I understand.”

  “We stage events that highlight our position.”

  “You meet some opposition?”

  She smiled.

  “The ‘neighbourhood preservation’ people. They want it to be like Paris. A monument to the past. Monuments are fine, but people don’t live in monuments.”

  “No.”

  // George

  Alice walked quickly into the fun palace.

  “In ?” George asked.

  “Yes. Well, sort of. It’s a bit like a mother’s club. Protests, lobbying.”

  “Umbrella. Inside that they recruit the Dennis types. To do the heavy lifting. Direct from the developers.”

  “You want me to push it. Go for that?”

  “No. The mother’s club is fine. We need to gather evidence.”

  Steve shuffled the wall. A graph
of mortality statistics. George turned and watched as it took shape. It wasn’t the sort of thing that normally came up on the wall. He wondered where Steve was going with it.

  “Mortality? I know we’re homicide, but ...”

  “Bear with me. You know about H3N3?”

  “Sounds like a disease.”

  “A flu strain. Or more particularly a new strain that is causing a lot of deaths in Melbourne. It’s peaking.”

  “It’s winter. Flu always peaks in winter.”

  “Sure. But look at this.”

  The screen showed the mortality statistics for different areas of the city. It wasn’t uniform at all.

  “It starts, it spreads.” George said.

  “That’s what I thought. But I talked to a few experts and they say this is non-typical. In a city so tightly integrated, locality of flu outbreaks should not happen. You’ve got mixing in the trains, the trams, the supermarkets. It should be much more even.”

  “There is another strange thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “There is an email mentioning it.”

  “Who?”

  “Xu Wei.”

  “He’s actually tagged to this.”

  “Yes.”

  “Nothing else is ever identified. Everything is kept outside the system. Just this one link.”

  “You think it is planted.”

  “Yes.”

  Steve continued to work the data. George leaned back in the chair, quietly studying it.

  “Overlay H3NS outbreaks on new developments. Say, the twelve months prior to the development commencing.” he said.

  It only took a few seconds.

  “Shit.” Steve said.

  // Mia

  Gathering the dust was a bit like a jigsaw puzzle. They had fragments from across networks, but no idea of what was missing. To make it more difficult, most of it was encrypted. Simply trying to crack every item of data wasn’t possible, they had to target what they broke.

  “Projections. Targets.” Oscar said.

  He brought up a map of Melbourne. Contracted areas were marked. He brought up the developer’s zones.

  “I’ve marked the target development areas, and the security contracts.”

  It came up on the large screen.

  “Bit like a war.” Mia said. “Developers pushing, residents resisting. Hiring contractors to push back.”

  “What did the backers ask for?” Oscar asked.

  “They didn’t. Just wanted as much as we could gather on the transition.”

  “Innocuous language.”

  “Yes.”

  // Alice

  Returning to the garage, it was a bit less populated than the day before. She found Anita.

  “Anything I can do? ” Alice asked.

  “We’re preparing for the street party.”

  “Street party?”

  “It’s the neighbourhood thing. Sort of community get together. Next Sunday.”

  “You’ll be welcome?”

  She smiled.

  “Not exactly. We plan to go anyway. Nothing too confrontational. Just make our point.”

  “Sure.”

  // George, Mia

  George called Mia.

  “Can you come to the fun palace? I have a plan.” he said.

  Mia didn’t need any encouragement. ‘If only my mum could see me now’ she thought as she fronted the security doors. Wondering how she was going to negotiate them. But just as she hesitated they opened before her.

  As she walked past the wall, she couldn’t help but turn around and take it in.

  “Impressive.” she said.

  George handled the introductions.

  “Steve, Mia. Mia, Steve.”

  There was no need for further explanation. In a sense each of them knew too much about the others.

  George continued.

  “Alice is with the Peregrini, at least the public front for them. Mother’s club version. They are planning something for the street party.”

  “Also an opportunity for those taking the Peregrini out. A rare public opportunity.”

  “Yes. They seem to be into messages. Almost theatrical, that strangling.”

  “You have a plan?” Mia asked.

  “Yes. We tag everything, including the drones. That’s why we need you.”

  “You need Michael.”

  “Yes.”

  // Alice

  It was a beautiful Saturday. With the streets blocked off, it was uncharacteristically quiet. In the early morning, the stalls were setting up on the beachfront. Tent walls only slightly fluttering in the sea breeze. Idle chatter between the stall holders. A coffee stall was doing a great business as all the other stalls gathered to keep themselves awake. A day when the good citizens of Middle Park could tell themselves that all was right with the world, that they could forget about the shadow of the developers.

  The garage was subdued. They were well aware that their message was not going to be welcome. That everyone would be hostile.

  Anita attempted to lift the mood.

  “We have a right to express our views. It’s not only the residents there. It’s a public event.”

  Still, it remained downbeat.

  “OK. Let’s go.” Anita said. They headed towards the foreshore. Spread out along the lane, they looked such a tiny group. So exposed.

  Alice looked up. She could have asked Oscar to do a drone scan, but she needed to retain her cover. Maybe she could pretend to do a personal call, and get it. In the meantime she scanned the skies.

  Mia raised Michael.

  “You ready to go?”

  “Yes. Just give the word.”

  The group of placard wavers threaded their way past the stalls, with mums hovering over jam, piles of produce filling each of the white tented cubicles. It was all very good natured. If anything, they were mostly ignored.

  In the air, it was quite a different story. Drones came lower, and circled above. Just high enough that they were difficult to see.

  Then, one broke from the heights and swooped low. Alice caught it out of the corner of her eye. That awful low, correcting, aiming. It was flying slowly in front of them. There were only a scattering of people at the front. Hardly a swarming horde.

  Those at the front caught sight of it, and were frozen. Not knowing what to do.

  Alice couldn’t hold out any longer. She raised Mia.

  “I don’t like the look of this.” she said.

  “Go with it.” Mia said quietly.

  Michael could see the drone. He positioned himself out of the main field of view. He had to be close.

  Alice had a bad feeling.

  It sped up, coming within a metre of the front row, aiming at a girl pushing a stroller. Closing, it sprayed a fluid in a jet stream that caught her eyes. She screamed, and held her eyes.

  Mia sat quietly. The awful calculus of it.

  Michael moved forward, raised the gun and aimed at it. A rubber bullet skimmed past the drone, harmlessly into space. Quickly he reloaded, and fired. This time the drone skidded and fell. He ran to where it was on the ground, lay it flat on the ground. Tagged the drone with a small package, and threw it into the air.

  “Got it.” he said to Mia.

  Alice ran to the girl. Calling an ambulance as she got to within reach. The march had scattered, as more of the drones found their mark.

  Mia looked at the feeds.

  “How long?” she said to Oscar.

  He didn’t reply. Just feverishly tapped on the keyboard, and looked for signs of life. He knew that once they realised the drone was tagged, they would power it down, or destroy it.

  The drone footage was up on the screen. George watched as the demonstrators were battered by waves of drones.

  “Can we broadcast this?” he asked.

  Alan replied.

  “Yes. You want to?”

  Oscar looked up as the wall showed it all.

  “Got it.” he said.
/>
  In one sudden moment all of the links in the chain connected. Their mining connected the drones to Defigo. All of it. The killings, the attack on SciTec.

  // Quang

  He watched as the drones disappeared from the screen. As the last of them ceased transmitting he could see them making south from the off-ramp.

  “Surveillance?” he asked quietly, as if anticipating the response.

  “Jammed.” Liuping said. “Scrambled.”

  He could sense their focus. Even though they could not break any of the messages. Just knowing who was talking to who and how much gave them information.

  “Smoke them.” Quang said.

  // Mia, Oscar, George, Steve

  It was a sharp sound. Metal on glass. Mia turned to where she thought it came from. But there was nothing. She scanned the full field of view, settling on the main door. A rapping, there it was again. Now a longer pause.

  It was almost like a small bird rapping against the glass. The robot backed up, as if sizing up the situation, taking it in. Then it made another run at the door. At a metre, it flipped out a lever and pushed up from it. This time the door gave way, and it tumbled through.

  “Shit. Something through the door.” Mia said, and they all turned.

  It must have been only a second or two, as it grappled with the remains of the door, struggling to make forward progress.

  “Watch it.” Steve said.

  They tried to anticipate it’s direction, that it would fire at them. But there were no cameras on the front that they could see. There didn’t seem to be any more coming. A surveillance bot? They don’t break their way through front doors.

  “Gas.” George said.

  The white gas didn’t just drift out, it pumped. In a short time it would fill the room.

  “Move.” Steve said.

  They ran for the elevator. They were in luck. There were open doors. Quickly they pressed the button.

  “Where?” Mia said.

  “Up.” George said.

  In the intervening seconds they had time to collect their thoughts. It wasn’t an easy story to tell. It sounded distinctly paranoid.

  Kate ushered them in. They took up a significant part of her office.

  “It’s isolated to your floor. Fortunately the fire system is pretty much air tight.”

  Mia interjected. She was going to introduce herself, but thought better of it.

  “I want to broadcast the footage.” he said.

  Kate paused, and walked towards the floor to ceiling windows.

  “You haven’t already?” she said, rhetorically, knowing the answer. She scanned the skyline, then continued. “There is a line. No-one comes along and waves a flag when you cross it. These guys crossed it a long time ago. Do your worst.”

  They looked hesitant. Having nowhere to go. Kate gestured to the outer office, and summoned someone to help them. It was George that drew the attention as they entered.

  “All of it?” Mia said.

  George turned. “All of it. Why not?”

  It only took about thirty seconds. As it was playing out, Mia’s phone made a bleep.

  “I’ve been summoned.” she said to Oscar, and to whoever else was listening. George turned around.

  “Instructions?” he asked.

  “I expect so.”

  “Where?”

  “Southern Cross station.”

  “Bit exposed.” George said.

  Yes, it was. Not like their normal park benches and quiet corners.

  “We’ll cover you as much as we can.” George continued.

  “Thanks.”

  With that she was on her way, out the garage exit Looking skywards, even with both Oscar and the others watching for her. For a second or two, she physically shook. It took her by surprise. Like a wave catching her and throwing her to the sand. In the surf, that moment where you found yourself deep underwater and short of air. She took a deep breath, and tried to calm herself.

  It was simple enough, she walked past the corner and the message appeared.

  “Platform 4A.Now.”

  Mia forwarded the message to Oscar, who sent it on.

  She could feel it coming again, the shakes. More deep breaths. Only a few hundred metres. As if there were hundreds of eyes. Hundreds of drones adjusting their targets,
Andrew Jennings's Novels