Déjà Vu: A Technothriller by Hocking, Ian (ebook reader that looks like a book .TXT) 📗

island. He typed on a large white tile, which hung unsupported in the air before him. It was a virtual computer console. At that sight, David’s confusion cleared. The intruder had somehow tossed them in the air. Bruce had countered with this water for protection and the new moon for light. David was astounded by his calm. Bruce would have written the commands while falling to his death.

David treaded water. Some entered his mouth. He coughed. The water was really a bag-like constellation of microbots. This water could never drown him, but he could suffocate.

“Jennifer!” he called.

“Here,” she replied. One of the two bobbing figures raised an arm.

“Saskia? Is that you?”

“Yes,” she said. The other figure waved.

David rotated. He searched the skies and the horizon for the intruder. It was possible that their opponent had deactivated the microbots for his own cubicle, which would allow him free movement through water and rock.

“Jennifer, do you still have access?” David asked.

“No,” she replied. She was panting heavily. “I tried. The computer doesn’t recognise my voice.”

“He must have deleted your account somehow.”

“Where is he, Dad?” she asked.

David felt a protective tug. He searched again. The canyon walls were far away and empty. The roof of the cabin was occupied by Bruce alone.

Then he looked down. The water was murky. He could see his virtual legs paddling. Two metres below him was the rocky bed. Further away, the surface became reflective, impenetrable. “Jennifer, is there any way you can get us out of here?”

“I don’t know,” she said fearfully.

“Not to worry. I’ll think of something.”

“No, wait,” Jennifer replied. “Mikey!” she shouted. “Groove! Help!” Her amplified voice was painfully loud. “They might be able to hear us from the other room,” she explained. She took up the call again.

David wasn’t so sure, but Jennifer’s moment of fear had passed and he would say nothing to bring it back. He had heard a man humming a tune: their opponent was in the spare cubicle. If Groove or Mikey were around, they had either collaborated or died.

Movement.

He blinked, checked again. He saw a spectral figure pass through the visible area below his feet. “There he is,” he said quietly.

“Where?” Jennifer asked.

David regretted his words immediately. The intruder had access to their voice communications too, and he proved it with a chuckle. He said, “It’s a bit wet down here.”

David thought: English, native speaker, southern England, London.

Saskia and Jennifer both said, “Frank?” Saskia sounded weary, Jennifer incredulous. Saskia’s tone told David everything. Frank was a policeman but there would be no arrest.

Saskia continued, “Frank, this is a mistake.”

“What is?”

“Killing us.”

Laughter.

David willed her on. More talking meant more time, though fighting Frank was like fighting God. He had total control of the environment. Bruce’s countermeasures, though they had worked so far, were doomed because he could be killed. The microbots in Frank’s cubicle were not activated. He was a ghost. David tried to remove his headset once more. The microbots formed a protective shield. He swore, took a breath, and head-butted the cubicle wall. There was nausea before the pain. The world became dark. Then the pain – a searing, crackling super-headache – began to spread from his forehead to his temples. The pain roused him. The world became floodlit.

His plan was to damage the microbots. Though they were small and strong, they were still machines, and they still had to absorb the energy of an impact. If he could destroy enough then he could remove the headset.

Jennifer said. “I knew as soon we met this morning that you were a brainless type.

Good, keep him talking.

“Show me some respect. I’m your new God.”

Frank’s spectre flew towards the moon. He beckoned the river. It rose in a foaming tower, miles high, and David could almost see its boiling pinnacle. The water level began to drop.

“Call Jobanique,” Saskia said. “Verify your orders.”

“I know exactly what they are,” said a voice in their ears.

David flung his skull at the wall. He gasped, but quietly. His vision thinned. He stumbled and heard splashes. He looked down. The river had vanished. Looked up. The tower of water too.

“Keep him talking,” Bruce said from the cabin roof. He was still typing furiously.

Frank flew like a dragonfly. He was a blur one moment, frozen the next. He zigzagged down to the cabin and stopped inches from Bruce’s nose. David was sleepy with pain but he willed Bruce to finish his spell. “Too late,” Frank said, and pointed. Bruce raised his arms but the fire dashed through them and through his chest. It scorched the cabin behind him. He fell lifelessly from the roof.

Jennifer whispered, “Oh, you bastard.”

David crouched and watched his hands claw the shingle. He vomited. Moments passed in darkness. Not Bruce. Not again. Bruce had poisoned his science teacher’s coffee with copper sulphate. He had been blinded by diabetes. He had taken up archery for comic effect. Now, all of that was gone.

Saskia said awkwardly, “Jennifer, it’s OK.”

David opened his eyes. There was a tapping sound. He was slow to discover its source. Vomit was dripping onto his knuckles. That could not be. He patted the shield around his head. Yes, there was triangular section missing. His last head-butt had been successful. Gingerly, because the edges were sharper than a razor, he hooked a finger around the headset and flicked. The world disappeared. David was back in his cubicle.

He could hear the buzz of the microbots as they began to deactivate and return to their slots in the ceiling. The computer had automatically cut his connection with Asgard as the headset was removed. It was not a safety feature, merely a convenience, and because it was mechanical it could not be deactivated by a malicious programmer. David let the headset drop to the floor. While he waited for the cubicle door to open, he wiped his shirt sleeve across his forehead. It came back bloody.

The heavy door swung open and he stepped out. Jennifer’s cubicle was next to his own.