The Unseen (6 page)

“Don’t tell me she’s seen something?”

“She sent me an e-mail asking why she had to buy shares. Your design, Richard. If a player opens the gate, it’s pulsing right in front of their eyes, every half second for a twenty-fifth of a second. What are we going to do? I never thought another person would get there. She’s the fourth.”

Momentarily Richard covered his face. This was not part of his plan. “Overwrite it with; you win PKL shares. Then email her a prize, plus a programme to reformat her hard drive. I’ll get publicity to arrange a presentation.”

“That may be difficult. She’s a bloody nun, in Ireland. What if she goes to the police?”

“Maybe she’s corruptible. Nuns who play PKL ain’t ordinary. What do you bribe a nun with?”

Katherine glanced across the convent library to ensure she would be undisturbed before starting to copy the final level of Princess Kay-ling on to a flash drive. Once complete, she then removed the copied file from the hard drive as she did every night.

Later, alone in her room and huddled beneath bedclothes, headphones on ears, she rattled dextrous fingers over a play console sneaked into the convent a year ago. Time and again she planned to replay her final triumph at reaching level ten and the gates of Serenity. Now the flash drive was successfully loaded, she went back to the Kay-ling chat room and entered her password.

Crystal’s elfin figure appeared at the edge of the screen and his words in the box.

Welcome Sister Katherine, and once again, congratulations.

Don’t call me sister. I’ve told you, I’m a student, not even a novice.
She typed.

But you are devout, young and beautiful.

Crystal, I shall get cross if you say such foolish things.
Katherine again glanced across the convent library, fearful the silent words might leap from the screen and shout deceitful presence. She took comfort from Bridget and Teresa, both bright eyed and industrious, their fingers tapping over keyboards, pale skin reflecting the light of Holy Scriptures. Katherine hoped the same light reflected on her own countenance. By the window, Sister Beatrice snoozed in the glow of a warm Irish sun. Katherine’s attention returned to the Internet and the PKL website. Crystal’s answer had appeared.

You are only the fourth female to reach level ten. How do you feel?

Sensing pride and ignoring her guilt, Katherine typed expertly.
Unbelievably happy, like I’ve completed a marathon
. She glanced across at the nun who shifted in her chair, fingers laced over ample belly.
But I am perplexed and cross. When I finally reached the Garden of Serenity, the gates opened and in their centre words were flashing repeatedly. I only saw them because there were no moving graphics. I could not decipher them at first as they flashed so fast. But when I concentrated long enough, they became clear. Buy PKL shares. Ever since I started PKL I’ve wanted to buy shares, but I have no money. Has this message always been there? Why should I buy PKL shares?

The return words appeared almost instantly.
They should have read – you have won PKL shares. They are part of your prize.

I don’t understand. What prize?
Katherine looked fleetingly to the room fearing someone might see the small elfin figure sitting in the corner of her monitor.

To reach the Garden of Serenity means you have extraordinary concentration and skill. Download the final episode to flash drive. It will contain instructions to claim your prize. You must have your photo taken. You have only one more test.

Katherine slumped. There was always another test. Since downloading the first game a year ago she had spent hundreds of nocturnal hours battling the enemies of Princess Kay-ling. PKL had become like a spiritual drug. She didn’t really want to do it, she shouldn’t do it. But, something compelled her. She was hooked, she knew it. Staring at the screen, she tried to reconcile her faith and her unfathomable obsession to win. She had blamed innocence and lack of knowledge. But now she was uncertain. Could flashing images affect the mind? She realised something fundamental had shifted in the structure of her subconscious. During past weeks, Princess Kay-ling had stayed in her thoughts day and night. During prayers, during mass, through tutorial and calligraphy practice to devotions and evening prayers. Each night she could not wait to resume the game. Crystal had materialised from nowhere the moment Katherine had first entered her e-mail address, enabling her to download PKL for free. He came as a tiny elfin figure with gossamer costume. Always he appeared over the edge of a buddy-box or lounging round the screen. Should she believe him?

Are you a virus?
She had typed.

I’m from the game. I’m part of the game. I am Crystal, companion and messenger to Princess Kay-ling. But I am also your mentor and servant, Katherine
.
When you downloaded level one you passed back your e-mail address and I was assigned to you. I came with the file. When you emailed your picture, I knew how you looked. On level two you filled in details for your combat clearance. Age, height, gender, occupation, clothes’ size, remember? I thought we were old friends

Katherine managed a smiled.
Very clever to play on my emotions. Do you promise me what I saw was a genuine mistake? Should I report it?

You have, to me. Now I know your concerns I’ll be able to deal with them. I have sent you the last episode of Kay-ling’s battle. This will overwrite your last download.

What about all the other copies I have? I can’t play on the library computer so I take them to my play-station upstairs.

Are there many?

Lots. Everything from start.

You’re not supposed to download them.

I’m not supposed to play them either, but I do.

You must bring them to me when you collect your prize, trust me Katherine. I will send Zoby for you.

By the window, Sister Beatrice snorted herself awake and looked with benign eyes to her three students before rising to her feet.

I must go,
Katherine hurriedly tapped the words.

Download tomorrow night, you must meet PKL face to face. You must accept her reward. Saturday would be good.

Katherine came out of the private chat-box and went straight to the site for Trinity College, Dublin. She clicked her mouse over the departments and onto the Book of Kells. By the time Sister Beatrice reached her shoulder Katherine studied detail of the illuminated manuscript.

“Such devotion, my child, does you credit,” Sister Beatrice said.

“Is it not beautiful, Sister?”

“And available through the wonders of this machine. But, I thank God I’m too old for its complications. They baffle me.”

“I can show you, Sister. It’s easy when you know how, and you can reach the world.”

“I thank you, child, but no. I prefer the cloisters of God’s walls. Come now, it is time for prayer and supper.”

“Sister, my hands are causing me pain again. I need to visit the chiropractor in Dublin. My father will pay, of course. Do you think maybe, next Saturday?”

“I’ll talk to Mother Superior, but I’m sure it can be arranged.” She displayed her own small, withered hands. “Pain in the fingers is the bane of a good calligrapher. To illustrate a manuscript is to give suffering to Christ.”

“My time of suffering is yet to come, Sister, I’m sure.” Katherine completed shutting down the computer and rose from her seat, brushing the skirt of her convent uniform. On her cheeks she felt the fusion of heat, in her pocket the newly loaded flash drive.

Crystal sat back from the keyboard and closed his eyes on visions of Sister Katherine. She knelt before the altar, her naked breasts and long, white limbs bathed in candlelight. He laid back his head, his breath coursing over wet lips, his fingers splayed. He had seen two of the others naked, but not this one. When she became his cyber slave, then he would see her stripped and tethered by Zoby. For moments he shivered, waiting for licentiousness to pass. Eventually he returned his attention to the office computer.

The file he selected contained Princess Kay-ling’s final quest, the whole four hour sequence infused with a strong, subliminal psychotic induction pulse to obey Crystal and trust Zoby. He attached both as files and emailed them to Katherine along with a note.

It is imperative you return to and re-enter the Garden of Serenity. Kay-ling awaits you. She will send her trusted charioteer, Zoby. Do as he asks and you will end in God’s grace while obtaining two thousand euros for your convent and three thousand shares in PKL.
This goes to all contestants reaching level ten. A just and rightful reward.
He signed it
Crystal
. When the e-mail had been sent he deleted it from file and started a second message to a different address.

Zoby. Immediate action required to secure and interrogate hostile. Subject young, beautiful and claiming purity. Need to confirm virginity. Acknowledge mission acceptance.
He signed it,
the Colonel
.

Crystal sent, then deleted his message, switched off the computer and left the office. He returned again at 6 a.m. the following morning. Zoby’s response sat waiting in a chat-box.

Mission accepted.

Crystal tapped on the keys.
Look for photograph, money and mission schedule in usual drop-box. Digital footage required as previous. Mission start, immediate.

I await your orders, Colonel.
Zoby sent back.

Colour identification, yellow. If she’s fully indoctrinated, she’ll have something that is yellow. Mission code, Clean Cut
. Again Crystal sent, and then deleted the message from file before closing down. At six in the morning no-one saw him drift through the empty Shoreditch office. Should there be any future incrimination, the use of PKL’s main office server via terminal 3 would only add confusion. He felt safe, confident.

On this bright morning, Mark Harrison strolled the pavements resplendent in blazer and grey slacks, his shoes polished, his shirt pristine. He saw the people around him, ordinary people, the kind he hated. He hated the shit heads who had turned down his application for Sandhurst, who had failed him on selection to the Marines, on selection to the Paras. He hated the dumb idiots who had failed him first year in medical school. He hated the headmistress who had expelled him for fondling young girls. He hated the probation officer who had sent him to a psychiatrist. He hated his mother whom he had burnt alive when he was ten years old, but most of all he hated his soldier father who had never acknowledged him. Then he saw Cindy outside Travelpath, his agency situated under the towering American Stock and Commercial Bank. Mark let the miasma of hate slide from his mind. For the first time that week he felt OK. Cindy sure had a lush figure, soft, round and slim. She was everything he wanted; beautiful, rich, a market-maker on the trading floor, a real wheeler-dealer. He tried not to think of her husband; her husband made him angry.

“Miss Cindy.” He tapped her shoulder. She turned, startled. He saw surprise in her eyes, or maybe fear. He didn’t want her to be afraid, not yet. He wished he could squeeze her breasts, he longed to squeeze her breasts. “I was going to phone,” he said. “I managed to book the Lake District’s most charming yet secluded cottage. Got you a good deal with boat hire thrown in.”

“Mark, that’s so neat.” She squeezed his arm and he flexed his muscle.

He loved the way she said, that’s so neat. “Specially for you, Miss Cindy.”

“My husband will be delighted. This is our first anniversary. The chance of a few days together is so rare.”

Mark tried to keep his smile. “I did it for you.” He hoped her husband fell out the boat and drowned. He was going to kill him anyway. The day after the jerk got back, he would kill him. “I did it for you,” he repeated. “Everything just as you wanted, spent hours on it.”

“And it’s appreciated.” Again she touched his shoulder. He thought she would kiss him. Her eyes were shining, big, beautiful, blue eyes. He bet she wore really expensive lingerie, silk or satin, designer stuff. He couldn’t wait to get his hand in her knickers. “If you e-mail your credit card details and address, I’ll get the whole package hand delivered to your home.”