He could see the city laid out before him now. The suburbs were a neat rectangular grid laid over the hills, mist-blurred to grey. The tall buildings of downtown thrust upward, a compact fist of concrete and glass and steel.
He rose higher still, swooped through a thin layer of cloud to a brighter sunshine beyond, and then turned again — to see the ocean’s glimmer-stained, far from land, by the ominous dark of yet another incoming storm system. The horizon’s curve became apparent, as land and sea folded over on themselves and Earth became a planet.
David suppressed the urge to whoop. He always had wanted to fly like Superman. This, he thought, is going to sell like hot cakes.
A crescent Moon hung, low and gaunt, in the blue sky. David swivelled the viewpoint until his field of view was centred on that sliver of bony light.
Behind him he could hear a commotion, raised voices, running feet. Perhaps it was a security breach, somewhere in the Wormworks. It was none of his concern.
With determination, he drove the viewpoint forward. The morning blue deepened to violet. Already he could see the first stars.
They slept for a while.
When Kate stirred, she felt cold. She raised her wrist and her tattoo lit up. Six in the morning. In his sleep, Bobby had moved away from her, leaving her uncovered. She pulled at the blanket they were sharing, covering her exposed torso.
The Wormworks, windowless, was as dark and cavernous as when they had arrived. She could see that the WormCam image of Billybob’s study was still as it had been, the desk and rhino skins and the papers. Everything since they had set up the WormCam link had been recorded. With a flicker of excitement she realized she might already have enough material to nail Meeks for good.
“You’re awake.”
She turned her head. There was Bobby’s face, eyes wide open, resting on a folded-up blanket.
He stroked her cheek with the back of one finger. “I think you’ve been crying,” he said.
That startled her. She resisted the temptation to brush his hand away, to hide her face.
He sighed. “You found the implant. So now you’ve screwed a wirehead. Isn’t that your prejudice? You don’t like implants. Maybe you think only criminals and the mentally deficient should undergo brain-function modification.”
“Who put it there?”
“My father. I mean, it was his initiative. When I was a small boy.”
“You remember?”
“I was three or four years old. Yes, I remember. And I remember understanding why he was doing it. Not the technical detail, of course, but the fact that he loved me, and wanted the best for me.” He smiled, self-deprecating. “I’m not quite as perfect as I look. I was somewhat hyperactive, and also slightly dyslexic. The implant fixed those things.”
She reached behind him and explored the profile of his implant. Trying not to make it obvious, she made sure her own wrist tattoo passed over the metal surface. She forced a smile. “You ought to upgrade your hardware.”
He shrugged. “It works well enough.”
“If you’ll let me bring in some microelectronic analysis gear I could run a study of it.”
“What would be the point?”
She took a breath. “So we can find out what it does.”
“I told you what it does.”
“You told me what Hiram told you.”
He propped himself up on his elbows and stared at her. “What are you implying?”
Yes, what, Kate? Are you just sour because he shows no signs of falling in love with you as, obviously, you are falling for this complex, flawed man? “You seem to have — gaps. For instance, don’t you ever wonder about your mother?”
“No,” he said. “Am I supposed to?”
“It’s not a question of being
“And you think this has something to do with my implant? Look, I trust my father. I know that everything he’s done has been for my best interest.”
“All right.” She leaned over to kiss him. “It’s not my business. We won’t talk about it again.”
At least, she thought with a guilty frisson, not until I get an analysis of the data I already collected from your head stud, without your knowledge, or your permission. She snuggled closer to him, and draped an arm over his chest, protectively. Maybe it’s me who has the gaps in her soul, she thought.
With shocking suddenness, torchlight burst over them.
Kate hastily grabbed the blanket to her chest, feeling absurdly exposed and vulnerable. The torchlight in her eyes was dazzling, masking the group of people beyond. There were two, three people. They wore dark uniforms.
And there was Hiram’s unmistakable bulk, his hands on his hips, glaring at her.
“You can’t hide from me,” Hiram said easily. He gestured at the WormCam image. “Shut that bloody thing off.”
The image turned to mush as the wormhole link to Billybob’s office was shut down.
“Ms. Manzoni, just by breaking in here you’ve broken a whole hatful of laws. Not to mention attempting to violate the privacy of Billybob Meeks. The police are already on their way. I doubt if I’ll be able to get you imprisoned — though I’ll have a bloody good try — but I can ensure you’ll never work in your field again.”
Kate kept up her defiant glower. But she felt her resolve crumble; she knew Hiram had the power to do just that.
Bobby was lying back, relaxed.
She dug an elbow in his ribs. “I don’t understand you, Bobby. He’s spying on you. Doesn’t that bother you?”
Hiram stood over her. “Why should it bother him?”
Through the dazzle she could see sweat gleaming on his bare scalp, his only sign of anger. “I’m his father. What bothers me is you, Ms. Manzoni. It’s obvious to me you’re poisoning my son’s mind. Just like…” He stopped himself.
Kate glared back. “Like who, Hiram? His mother?” But Bobby’s hand was on her arm.
“Back off Dad. Kate, he was bound to figure this out sometime. Look, both of you, let’s find a win-win solution to this. Isn’t that what you always told me, Dad?” He said impulsively, “Don’t throw Kate out. Give her a job. Here, at OurWorld.”
Hiram and Kate spoke simultaneously. “Are you
“Bobby, that’s absurd. If you think I’d work for this creep.”
Bobby held his hands up. “Dad, think about it. To exploit the technology you’re going to need the best investigative journalists you can find. Right? Even with the WormCam you can’t dig out a story without leads.”
Hiram snorted. “You’re telling me
Bobby raised his eyebrows. “She’s here, Dad. She found out about the WormCam itself. She even started to use it. And as for you, Kate…”
“Bobby, it will be a cold day in hell…”
“
Kate said, “I’d insist on finishing my investigation into Billybob Meeks. I don’t care what links you have with him, Hiram. The man is a sham, potentially murderous and a drug runner. And…”
Hiram laughed. “You’re laying down
Bobby said, “Dad, please. Just think about it. For me.”
Hiram loomed over Kate, his face savage. “Perhaps I have to accept this. But you will not take my son away from me. I hope you understand that.” He straightened up, and Kate found herself shivering. “By the way,” Hiram said to Bobby, “you were right.”
“About what?”
“That I love you. That you should trust me. That everything I have done to you has been for the best.”
Kate gasped. “You heard him say that?” But of course he had; Hiram had probably heard everything.
Hiram’s eyes were on Bobby. “You do believe me, don’t you? Don’t you?”
Chapter 8
Scoops
Kate Manzoni (to camera): …The real possibility, revealed exclusively here, of armed conflict between Scotland and England — and therefore, of course, involving the United States as a whole — is the most significant development in what is becoming the central story of our unfolding century: the battle for water. The figures are stark. Less than one percent of the world’s water supply is suitable and accessible for human use. As cities expand, and less land is left available for farming, the demand for water is increasing sharply. In parts of Asia, the Mideast and Africa, the available surface water is already fully used, and groundwater levels have been falling for decades. Back at the turn of the century ten percent of the world’s population did not have enough water to drink. Now that figure has tripled, and it is expected to reach a startling seventy percent by 2050. We have become used to seeing bloody conflicts over water, for example in China, and over the waters of the Nile, the Euphrates, the Ganges and the Amazon, places where the diminishing resource has to be shared, or where one neighbour is perceived, rightly or wrongly, as having more water than it requires. In this country, there have been calls in Congress for the Administration to put more pressure on the Canadian and Quebecois governments to release more water to the U.S., particularly the desertifying Midwest. Nevertheless the idea that such conflicts could come to the developed Western world — just to repeat our exclusive revelation, that an armed incursion into Scotland to secure water supplies has been seriously considered by the English state government — comes as a shock…
