The Hunt for Pierre Jnr (12 page)

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Authors: David M. Henley

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: The Hunt for Pierre Jnr
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‘Well done, Ten. Bring the psi to me and send Okonta back to his capsule.’

 

‘Yes, sir.’

 

He opened a private line to the agent. ‘You did well, Okonta. Your behaviour is much improved.’

 

‘Thank you, Master Shima.’

 

‘There shall be a reward waiting for you at home.’

 

‘Thank you, Master Shima.’

 

At the edge of the dock the water swirled as the armoured units rose up and scrambled onto the landing, forcing the platform to rock back and forth as the new weight settled. One of the soldiers carried a narrow box, like a coffin, on his shoulder and placed it before Ryu.

 

‘We haven’t done an underwater job since training. That was more fun than I remember,’ the man commented.

 

‘It isn’t meant to be fun, Three,’ Ryu answered and made a note in his report. ‘That will be all.’

 

The soldier huddled with the other men and they chattered amongst themselves as Ryu bent over the box to confirm the target’s identity and check her vitals were stable for transportation. He noticed a mark on her arm and with a gloved finger pushed her sleeve back to reveal heavy bruising on her shoulders.

 

‘Ten, come here. Can you explain these marks?’

 

The soldier came and looked over Ryu’s shoulder. ‘No, sir. I did not see that. She probably had it before collection.’

 

‘No. This is fresh. And about the size of a marauder gauntlet, wouldn’t you agree? Who did the collection?’

 

‘Three, sir.’

 

‘Have him reprimanded.’

 

‘But, sir. It was on water —’

 

‘Thank you, Ten. That will be all.’

 

Before the man could protest again, an alert came over both their symbiots. Ryu held up a hand to stop the other men speaking. Something was happening in the Dome and he switched his overlay to the incoming scenes.

 

The squad kept silent, themselves tapping into the Paris footage to watch a dust storm shred the Louvre and the whole quartier become consumed by billows of pale dirt.

 

Ryu thumbed the verification tab and closed the lid of the box. ‘Process this one and get straight back to base.’

 

‘Yes, sir.’

 

‘Stay alert in case I need you.’

 

‘Sir, yes, sir.’

 

~ * ~

 

There is a rhyme taught to children that is intended to help them learn the basic cause and effect of civic value and Ryu mumbled it to himself as he watched the ebb and tide of the global stream of consciousness.

 

Jack and Jill went up the hill

To see who was the faster

When Jack broke his crown

His vote went down

And Jill became the master.

 

Like most, Ryu Shima watched the footage on the Weave with great interest, but his interest was perhaps greater because his value was rising because of the event. As the local enforcer of the Will for the last five years, he had a proven record of effective psi collection and community administration.

 

Every person in the World Union has what is known as a stream, which logs all their activity on the Weave. Everything they view, endorse or connect to, as well as what is recorded from physical life. Civic status is partially tied to how many other Citizens took an interest in a person’s stream, and to what level.

 

As more people on the Weave became aware of Ryu’s history and his way of thinking, his vote began to lead the way on a number of categories and issues. He made sure his supporters knew that he was taking an active interest and was attentive to the situation and there was no suppressing it now; the Primacy had seriously erred. He found the clip from the Dome satellite feed particularly riveting. Overlays calculated the measurements and readings as the dust stretched down Rue de Rivoli. A tornado of unknown force that reached over five hundred metres. Such a demonstration of power was unprecedented.

 

He had his suspicions about what had taken place. The lack of forensic evidence left only one possibility: a psionic attack. As his position elevated, his permission level rose and his stream could now access the reports and minutes from the undisciplined Pierre Jnr hunt which, as far as he could tell, had provoked this violent eruption in one of the Dome’s most venerated areas.

 

The psi’s file made light, but interesting, reading. One capture and one escape, then managing to stay off Services’ radar for two decades. Despite his alpha-type, Peter Lazarus had remained hidden and inactive until he was thirty-five. Everything about this case was feeling wrong.

 

For the first time in decades there was no recorded evidence of an attack. No pictures, no sound, no footage ... nothing that revealed the source. No direct recording of history. There was one satellite view that showed little more than a smudge on a screen, and there were erratic testimonies from witnesses who were on the edge of the event; all of those closer were dead or incoherent.

 

Had this group really found the mythical boy? Or was this the psi rebellion Ryu had been expecting his whole life? It seemed an odd coincidence that within weeks of a psi fugitive volunteering himself they managed to locate Pierre Jnr. After the boy had been eight years in hiding, they drew him out almost instantly? It was more likely that this Peter Lazarus had led them into a trap.

 

It was as piecemeal an operation as he’d ever seen and he knew that there was really only one person suitable for the job of stopping Pierre Jnr, and that was himself. He was divided between the need for rest and the need to study. The decision was made for him as more and more information became unrestricted for him. He experienced repeated satori as his world was widened a jump at a time.

 

~ * ~

 

The Shimas were an old family, well established, able to trace their heritage back to before the collapse. Even before the Dark Age passed, the family was flourishing and Shima Palace was the biggest single structure in Yantz.

 

There were eight levels to the palace. The top two floors were reserved for the Alpha of House Shima, Yoshiko Shima, and her partner and Regent, Hachiro; Ryu’s mother and father. Ryu occupied the third floor from the top, followed by his sister Sato and then his brother Takashi on the fifth level down. The next two levels were for the extended family who had more shifting statuses, and two more siblings who were yet to come of age.

 

At 3.14 a.m., Yantz time, Ryu’s value rose enough to trigger his family’s civic insurance and a guard team stationed themselves around the palace and outside his door. He hailed them through his symbiot and verified their identifications. It was then he started calling people.

 

He knew his brother would be awake already — Takashi never really slept. He took naps between functions, for data to compile and render, or to digest information in his brain. The Shima brothers had trained together as boys, and Ryu often relied on Takashi to run data and even access information that neither of them were officially privy to.

 

Ryu connected through to his younger brother and was glad he hadn’t visited in person. There were many ways in which the two were not alike, hygiene and lifestyle amongst them.

 

Cannabis was not the only flora bent into new species over the last century of do-it-yourself genetic farming, but it was the most popular one for bio-inventors and it now existed in such diversity that everything descended from the original plant was referred to as mesh. Chew it, smoke it or let it dry in a canister under your nose; each method had a different effect. Takashi was hooked on it and the only time he left his room was when the family forced him to be involved or when his horniness drove him to expand his harem and go doll shopping.

 

He was totally high when Ryu buzzed him.

 

‘Reeeyuuu! You’re up. Did you see that?’

 

‘I saw it.’

 

‘That was cryppy. That was amazing.’

 

‘Yes, it was, but what was it? I need a picture of what’s happening, Takashi. I need to know what happened and how we can push it.’

 

‘Nobody is saying — or rather everybody is.’

 

‘Takashi, I’m on the rise,’ Ryu cut in.

 

‘Yeah? I haven’t been watching any of that.’ There was a pause. ‘Wooa, Reeeyuuu, check yourself. The vox is speaking. They must be thinking it’s psis, to put you ahead like that.’

 

‘I’m pretty certain it was, Takashi. My access just increased and from what I’m seeing this was a botched collection.’

 

‘Hectic. So what did they do to blow an area that big? Crash an air-carrier?’

 

‘No, Takashi. That was the psi.’

 

Takashi paused. He didn’t repeat his favourite expletive; he turned in his chair, his chameleon oculars peering closer to check how serious Ryu was being. He still held out hope his brother might learn to jest. Tonight was not the night and he swivelled away to concentrate on the feeds. He commentated out loud as he made his way through the data. Ryu was used to this and didn’t even try to keep up.

 

‘Taka ...?’

 

‘Ryu san?’ When Ryu went familiar, Takashi went formal. Only his parents got away with the nickname.

 

‘I want to stir the pot. How hard would it be for you to encourage a particular meme?’

 

‘Oh hoo, brother mine. Nothing is easier. A little tagging, anonymous drops in the thought stream ... What did you have in mind?’

 

‘All it needs is a little push, Takashi, and I could be in the Primacy.’

 

‘Is the world ready for you, Ryu san? Have they read the fine print?’

 

‘Takashi. Do you support me or not?’

 

‘Of course I do. Go, House Shima! Tell me what you need.’

 

‘I only want the truth to come out. That is all. Services went into Paris thinking they were chasing a potential Pierre Jnr. It might be interesting to know what the world thought about that.’

 

This excited Takashi and he rubbed his hands together. ‘I like it. Let the manifestation of Pierre Jnr begin.’

 

~ * ~

 

One of the great paradoxes of the Weave, of having an information and communication network that spanned the globe, where all data could be corroborated or dispelled instantly, is that people still did not know what they should believe. Events were recorded and indisputable, but the explanation of them, the interpretation, was always diverse.

 

Like a flipped switch, the tune and topic focused on the potential of psi involvement. There had been incidents in the past. Benders lashing out before Services rendered them unconscious, grand frauds that only a telepath could execute, but nothing like this had ever been recorded. Nothing even a tenth of the scale.

 

The only psi who had ever shown such strength was the semi-mythical Pierre Jnr. It was only eight years ago that Doctor Yeon Rhee had had his experiments shut down. Most of the psis and academics from the project were reallocated to either the restricted islands or hidden from public view and only a part of the world stratum was aware of the Psionic Development Program even when it was going on. Of those who took it seriously, the majority took the stories of a three-month-old baby overcoming staff and security before levitating to freedom with a natural degree of scepticism.

 

This incident brought all that old bunk to light once more. As soon as the figure in the witness sketches was tagged as ‘Pierre Jnr’, the name stuck and the records were dusted off.

 

Takashi and Ryu egged each other on into the late hours. With only the slightest of suggestions and the most innocent of questions on a forum, the Will began to coalesce around the notion that what had happened was caused by Pierre Jnr.

 

As the night progressed, the civic hierarchy collapsed further and new members vied for position. Sentiment swung toward people who had strong backgrounds in social order and psi security. Retired Servicemen such as Admiral Luciel Shreet and Blair Butler were obvious candidates, having been active in the last great period of social unrest, but they also had many detractors. Janette Orielo the pro-restriction speaker also came to the fore, for the fifth time in her life, but just as there is always a section of people who turn to discipline in times of crisis, there were just as many who turned against it and abhorred any sort of conflict. Ryu dubbed them the ‘tolerance vector’. Those people thought that psis should be engaged in the discussion of how they could fit into society.

 

Ryu Shima was young for a candidate, but he was one of a few showing success in managing the psi problem, and he was, after all, a Shima. Others like Ryu were also rising in rank. People who were from a Services background, or who had been vocal about psis in recent years. There were men and women who had experienced psi conflicts before, like General Zim, whose heavy-handed factions were pushing a policy of total restriction and that the ‘manifestation’ was a direct result of letting psis run free in our world.

 

The Shima brothers were both tired by dawn, no longer interacting with the Weave, simply watching the fall of the Primacy and the steep ascendancy of Ryu’s influence.

 

‘The Elders have called a breakfast,’ Takashi reported.

 

‘Then they must think we have a chance too. The Shimas may be in the Primacy for the first time in forty years.’

 

‘I wonder how Mother will feel about this.’

 

~ * ~

 

Father and Regent, Hachiro, stood at the foyer door as each of the children entered. This particular ritual involved a quick inspection of each guest’s attire, physical and mental state, and, if necessary, a briefing to make sure they were acquainted with the subject matter that might be discussed. Each member had a few moments alone with the Regent before being allowed entry to the dining room, where the Alpha waited.

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