“I went to the apartment and the lady below told me that you had been taken to hospital. It was then a matter of which one.” He stumbled and fell against the bed.
“You don’t look well Hector.”
After they had compared notes it seemed as if Sidibe was suffering similar symptoms. “I think you should ask the doctor to examine you.”
“I don’t have the money.”
“Just get him to look at you and I’ll ask my account to be debited.” This was requested but they were told Konrad would have to make a transfer to Sidibe’s account first, as hospital charges could only be made against the person being treated. Suddenly Konrad was concerned to get to an ATM to make the transfer, but was told he was to remain in bed. The panic was something which he could not relate to anything in particular, nevertheless it haunted him.
“Relax,” said Sidibe, “I will come back tomorrow, let’s not prejudice your discharge. We need to get out of here so we can talk, then I can accept your offer of help.”
When Hector didn’t show up the next day Konrad decided to visit the hostel in which he was staying. The matronly lady who appeared to be in charge informed him that Hector Sidibe had died during the night. “We are all shocked. He has been ill for some days now but just sat ignoring our concern. All he could say was that he must see his friend Konrad something or other. He’s been obsessed with finding him for quite a few days. It was out of character for him to behave like this.” Konrad had an impulse, the meaning of which he could not quite grasp. He was not aware of removing the headgear. He was quite dizzy and nauseous. He vaguely recognised the woman bending over him and telling him to drink the water she offered him.
Manuel
Butragueno kept repeating the same words. “You must drink some water Manuel, please try.” A crowd had gathered around his prostrate form and had to be dispersed by one of the club security men. Butragueno had already called for an ambulance. Manuel was still acting strangely and suffering mini-spasms during which he twitched quite violently. The ambulance arrived and got him settled before setting off for the hospital. He was beginning to show signs of returning to normal by the time they reached admissions.
“Is that you El?”
“Yes it’s me, you had us worried. Please don’t try to get up, the paramedics don’t know what is wrong, so we are waiting for a doctor.” He seemed to relax a little more and as the doctor listened to Butragueno recount the events he could not believe they were talking about him. He was hooked up to sophisticated EEG equipment and the doctor remarked that the readouts were rather strange.
“I think we had better check you out on the Neo-map, it will assist me in explaining the surge in activity you have experienced. It is quite painless and won’t take long.” By this time Manuel knew he was talking as himself and confirmed to Butragueno that he had only felt ill when he had exited Futureworld.
“I remember that I didn’t log off properly and had an urge to pull off the headset.”
“Yes, I thought at the time you were struggling with it, and it took a while before you knew you were free of it, even though it had dropped to the floor already.”
He gathered his thoughts and asked, “How long was I in the game?”
“Not more than thirty minutes.”
His pupils dilated and he shook his head. “My recollections tell me I was in there for almost two days. There’s a different timeline, I suppose that makes sense.” Before they fitted the Neo-map he whispered to her, “Can you check if the Africana who was found without a head was called Hector Sidibe?”
“Well yes, but I may not get the truth from the locals.” He suggested she ask Duarte to test it out on Pierze.
“Tell him not to disclose where he got the information from.” She went outside to use her communicator while he underwent the test. Duarte asked where she had got the lead from.
“I overheard part of a conversation in the Barcelona precinct,” she lied, “it might not even be related to the actual incident, but Africana was mentioned, I may be guilty of jumping to wrong conclusions but I didn’t want to ask about it openly – as they are nervous about everything here and I would have drawn a blank. It’s worth a try.” When she came back the doctor pulled her to one side.
“He has had an overload in his neo-cortex, it hasn’t caused damage this time but I would not advise a repeat of this silly game. I will see him again in a couple of hours and if he answers my questions satisfactorily he can be discharged.”
As the doctor was signing his release document, Butragueno took the call. “Your hunch was right. Pierze was very cagey and obviously disturbed that I blurted out this name. He only acknowledged it after he extracted the source from me.”
“Oh no, I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to be associated with this.” Duarte’s riposte was laced with humour.
“I finally admitted to him that I have a contact in Senegal who got it from a reporter. Pierze’s favourite four letter description of excrement is proof that he bought it. Well done Butragueno, I’ll make some genuine inquiries now that I have a starting point.”
When she returned to the ward Manuel was ready to go. She asked the taxi driver to go to his hotel, but Manuel decided to override this. “No, please ignore that, I want you to take us to a select piano bar or somewhere similar – do you have a recommendation?” The taxi driver sniffed a good tip and whisked them to El Millenio, a quiet hostelry in a small square, a short walk from the Gaudi Cathedral. Once they were furnished with Manuel’s favourite cocktail – a Caipirinha, which came to life by pouring Cachaza onto crushed ice and generously adorning that Brazilian firewater with baby limes, he simply said, “Well?”
“How did you know that was his name?”
“As stupid as this sounds, he visited me while I was in hospital - not the one we have just left, the one in Futureworld.” They both sipped their enchanting concoction while they mulled over the implications of this preposterous revelation. “It’s possibly just as ludicrous that I am, sorry – Konrad is employed in Central Security in Futureworld.”
“Yeah this is a unique drink Manuel; I don’t think I’ll have another.” He showed a little frustration.
“It is logical if you think about the role of my father and his superficial efforts to help Konrad. He may have tried to understand why such a powerful man could not come up with anything.”
“But it is just a game Manuel. Come on, you can’t seriously expect too much from SACRED, it was a lucky strike.” Manuel offered no response other than a penetrating stare.
*
The dust cloud from the Orient landing was assessed as around thirty miles. It was just far enough away to be a risky journey to the SACRED complex, and just near enough to arouse further suspicion about its purpose. Gretz had witnessed this manoeuvre during his visit, and with powerful lenses had determined there appeared to be an unfinished habitat core with essential life support equipment and what looked like a year’s supply of foodstuff for about six people. He had left before their ascent back to their ‘Mothership’ but had instructed his people not to attempt approaching the module. His considered judgement after hearing expert views was to observe, and not risk the journey at this stage. He could not afford to lose any of the already stretched employees. He did contact Verdasco and Boniek, in order to up the recruitment of new transferees, as he was not comfortable with the arrival of the recent neighbour. Orient had not publicised its objectives beyond colonisation, to its own citizens. This was according to some of his agents residing within the borders of that regime.
*
Duarte approached Pierze after the latter had time to get over the shock of hearing Hector Sidibe’s name. He figured that he would be fed with some plausible red herring, so he suggested another ‘cloaked encounter’ in Pierze’s favourite plaza again. “I think it would help if you gave me a little direction here Ricardo. As you know Butragueno is embarking on extraction of evidence in Barcelona a
nd she doesn’t have a good feeling about the stage-managed cooperation so far. Since you set up this arrangement, and you have since then acquired even more influence, can you loosen them up a little? Alternatively you may wish to add to my lead, and don’t worry about such information not being good for my wellbeing. That worked with Salina but I would actually feel safer hearing stuff from you, rather than digging further, albeit through some indirect conduit of shady repute in Senegal.”
Pierze stroked his clean-shaven chin. This was a new mannerism thought Duarte, but it seemed promising, as it evoked a morsel of worthwhile value. “This may have occurred to you already Duarte, so I will confirm it for you. We think Sidibe was the individual who was disturbed by Butragueno at the scene of Konrad’s suicide. I told you earlier that we had voice match with someone who was speaking with Konrad at that time, but we could not yet prove whether he was in the apartment or on the communicator. From our surveillance records of protests we have positively identified this person as Sidibe, but still cannot prove he was there at the time. There is no record of a call to Konrad’s normal line, we know that, but it could still have been to a mobile which has since disappeared. I’m afraid we still need his head. I am expecting the first scans from Konrad to guide our next steps. I have no more to give you.”
“You’ve given me nothing. I suppose I must risk another contact with Africana and if there is anything noteworthy, you can be sure I’ll keep it to myself. You won’t forget my request to lean a little harder on Barcelona, will you? If we get more help there it may persuade me to re-connect with you on Africana. Unless you feel that this would put you in danger.”
*
When they met next morning Manuel suggested that he would tail Butragueno with the local minders until they had something to go on. “Then I’ll take a second shot at Futureworld.”
“The doctor was very serious when he said you shouldn’t risk this again. I’m wasting my breath aren’t I? You’re simply being irresponsible.” He tried to convince her that it was all to do with his premature disconnection of the headgear.
“I won’t make such an elementary mistake again. Look El, it’s obvious from the way Duarte is being strung along by Pierze that we need every other avenue to be explored. You’ll relax when I come out next time, I promise to take care when I exit.”
*
Pierze should have been overjoyed, but he was a little circumspect. The first scan of Konrad’s head showed his anticipated result as confirmed, but there was additional data. The interpretation clearly illustrated irregular cerebral patterns, consistent with known techniques of brainwashing. There was disturbingly concrete evidence of small channels of new tissue. The experts were not certain of the function and how it got there. It seemed to have developed rather than being implanted – it resembled a swelling of an existing conduit between sections of the brain, namely the hippocampus and neo-cortex. As best as they could determine the tissue was not very old, perhaps a few months at most. Pierze challenged this prognosis strenuously but the boffins refused to budge on the conclusion. They did give him some hope that if the living brain of the captive from Adrianna Rossi’s scene of death had similar symptoms, it could be possible to reproduce the effect by interrogating the hippocampus – neo-cortex link with non-invasive experiments. He urged them to carry this out as soon as possible.
Meanwhile the protests were being much better coordinated and worryingly more violent. There was also, as yet unproven as strategy, incidents of civil servants being injured with greater frequency. This tenuous pattern, even if valid, did not definitely point to an organised trend. Footage which was fastidiously scrutinised indicated bigger groups of protestors and some apparently new figureheads. It was a stern challenge for the new head of Central Security, and Pierze decided to leave Londonis and head back to Madrid. This left Duarte to reconsider his options in view of the sudden departure. One hunch he felt strongly about was the likelihood of Konrad’s body following on behind, without any of the family being informed.
Chapter 15
Butragueno wanted to get started with the Alessandro Brunatti case. The Lombardy born victim’s body had been charred so badly it was visually unrecognisable and had been identified by DNA and other corroborating evidence. There was nothing in the files that she did not know already from speaking with the investigating officers when she had called them from Londonis. When she asked to see the lead officer from that time, it was Montero who responded. “I am afraid that is not possible right now, he is currently suspended pending the outcome of a different investigation. That is why Carla, excuse me, the representative from Internal Affairs is with us, she may have questions to ask along with your own. We have a subordinate who was directly involved in the case; he will be the first reference point.” The charade did not last long as Butragueno made her prepared enquiries and the answers were limited to, and virtually word matched with the files. Anything not covered in those files met with a shrug of the shoulders. Carla Dominguez stepped in.
“Montero, we need to speak with people outside of the precinct. The fire service would be a good start, and anyone in the neighbourhood of Brunatti’s studio.”
Butragueno reacted. “Studio? What kind of studio?” Dominguez’ reply was loaded with sarcasm.
“A pigsty; which housed his ‘abstract creations’.” Butragueno asked if any of these works had survived. They were perplexed as to why she had asked about this. She merely said she was curious because she liked abstract images. She made a note that none of the contents had survived the intense blaze, and alongside wrote – ‘paintings sold may have DNA for cross checking’.
They went to the fire service. Two of the crew who attended the inferno had been transferred after being promoted. One had been killed in a subsequent fire, after falling three floors, when an external timber plummeted and detached him from the mobile ladder. On questioning the remaining crew, Dominguez was quite helpful in keeping them alert, by stressing her role in checking their knowledge, against what actually went into the police files. After over two hours the shift supervisor stated the need for his men to be ready for the busy callout period, and brought the recap to an end. As they drifted out, one of the younger members of the crew dawdled, dropped some coins which scattered behind him. When he was detached from the others and had recovered most of his money with the help of Montero, Dominguez and Butragueno, he slipped a piece of paper into the hand of the Internal Affairs officer. She later unfurled the crumpled note to reveal a name and the scribbled relationship – ‘girlfriend’. She tore it up and memorised the content. When they returned to the precinct Montero excused himself in order to go through his waiting messages. Dominguez confided in Butragueno. “We should track this woman down without Montero, or rather you should, and I will tag along – must follow the rules mustn’t we? Are you free this evening?” Butragueno wanted to check with Manuel as to whether he had plans. The reply was not what she wanted to hear.
“I’m going in again El, I have to.”
“Then please wait until I get back from this lead with Dominguez and I’ll come with you, in case there is a repeat of the previous events.” He agreed but said he wanted to use a different club so as not to attract attention.
“My face and yours for that matter are known now, at the previous place. I’ll pick one and let you know how to get there.”
Konrad
After the shock of finding out that Hector Sidibe had perished, he was driven to walk the streets for some time. He reflected on the programme they had embarked upon. His pager alerted him to incoming mail. He pulled the message from his laptop at his home. It read – ‘We have to meet, at the usual place. I will be there in one hour. Delete this message, Prometheus’.
When they sat across the table at the city library, they didn’t acknowledge one another until they had both scanned the room. Even then, the first exchange was a surreptitious passing of a piece of paper from Prometheus to Konrad. Placing
it inside the book he had borrowed, he read it carefully. ‘Three more are known to be affected, Adrianna Rossi, Leonid Tirishev and Heinrich Pichler’. Prometheus waited until he had a signal that Konrad knew them personally then he left. Konrad hastened to his abode and tried to contact the trio in the order he was given. He had no reply from Adrianna or Leonid. Heinrich responded and was asked by Konrad to come to a football match at the Camp Nou in Barcelona. Over ninety thousand fans were expected and it would be a safe place to meet. He gave Heinrich the entrance number and turnstile reference. They fixed a time. Konrad needed to exit Futureworld. This time he followed the correct sequence. Although he didn’t collapse, he was extremely unwell, and for the second time suffered disorientation together with a vague recognition of Butragueno.
Manuel
He pleaded with her to stop fussing. “It is passing; I’m beginning to feel better.”
“I’m not your mother Manuel or your babysitter. I will not admonish you again. It’s your call.” He asked her to find them a quiet coffee parlour and when they had ordered he made an outrageous suggestion.
“I have three names from a contact in Futureworld. We know Adrianna Rossi. Leonid Tirishev and Heinrich Pichler we don’t. I could only contact Pichler in Futureworld. I’m therefore guessing that the captive Pierze has from the Rossi suicide is Tirishev. I think we should pass these names to Duarte and let him use his guile to bring them up in conversation with Pierze.”
“You said you were feeling better Manuel. This is insane. Firstly, and I keep saying this, it’s a game and a seriously weird one. Second, if – and it is a big if, you were right, it would put all of us at risk. Pierze is not to be trusted in my opinion and that of my boss. If he has protected these names so fiercely there has to be a reason.”