MINDFRACK Read online

  Beaumont told the polibot to let him through.

  The room was softly lit. As he stepped over the threshold the external noise of the corridor dropped to a distant bustle due to the room’s sound suppression. The furniture was basic but more comfortable than that found in standard hospital rooms, and there were the usual monitors and stowed equipment behind the patient. Logan walked over and sat on the chair next to the bed.

  Since he was not here in any official capacity, he had little idea who Dexy Please was other than that she was a hooker, a trillionaire’s mistress of the night.

  When she stirred and turned over to face him, he was taken aback. Logan had come across enough women with facial work to recognise a natural beauty when he saw one, despite the bruises.

  Dexy had thick fair hair, high cheekbones, and maybe a few Nordic genes stirred into the mix. Light, sand coloured skin graced her bone structure with no obvious bodymod except for an unusual iTatt design that ran down the back of each hand and over her index and middle fingers. Her eyes were an intense cobalt blue, though that could have been of her choosing. There was a compress over part of her upper brow and a large bruise under that and over her left eye, which was swollen. Logan noticed other dressing strips applied to her left arm, and smaller grazes that were left uncovered.

  “Who are you?” she said, shuddering.

  “A friend …” said Logan, softly. He pulled out his badge with one hand and held up the other. “My name is Mark Logan, I’m with the police department – forensics. You’ve got nothing to fear. We’ve got a police guard out here. I’ll show you.” He got up and opened the door. The youthful and exuberant face of policewoman Beaumont turned toward him. Logan nodded before closing the door again. Dexy settled back and closed her eyes.

  “I’m here,” began Logan, awkwardly, “to work out what happened to your playmate. Why she jumped. And to do that I need its maintenance key. Do you understand what that is?”

  She reopened her bluer-than-blue eyes, only this time they were polar rather than tropical. A shadow swept over her face. “I’ll tell you what happened,” she said, her eyes narrowing as they measured Logan, “He fucking hit me. Knocked me out cold, the bastard. And now my darling Carrie is dead …” She bit her lip and swallowed before regaining her composure.

  He had to ask. “Who hit you?”

  “George Grist.”

  “Grist? How could he do that, he’s a frail old man in an invalid chair?”

  “He uses an exo.”

  “Oh. Why did Carrie jump?” He had decided to side-step her grievance with Grist.

  “She didn’t.”

  “According to George Grist she did.”

  “Trust me, she didn’t. I don’t know how, but she was forced off that ledge.”

  “Why was she on the ledge?”

  “To save me.” She shook her head, tightly. “It’s complicated.”

  “How could she save you by climbing over?”

  She didn’t answer, appearing to be lost within her thoughts.

  “If we had your playmate’s maintenance key we might be able to check out your version of events. Can you get me the key?”

  She ignored his request. “He didn’t have to … This wasn’t supposed to happen …”

  “What wasn’t supposed to happen?”

  “The planning, the work, it’s all for nothing …” Her voice had shrunk, trailing off.

  “What’s for nothing? What are you talking about?”

  Her eyes hardened. “Damn. I don’t even know who you are, do I. He could have hired you – to come in here posing as a police officer …”

  “Dexy, I’m not going to hurt you. And I’m not an officer. I’m a forensics consultant – a cyber technology specialist. And I’ve just come for your playmate’s maintenance key. It’s a special code that will allow us to extract Carrie’s last recorded actions.”

  She huffed at him. “And why would I give that to someone I met a few minutes ago? A stranger?”

  “If it’s worth anything, you can trust me.”

  “Look, I can’t use my iSense – why is that? Do me a favour – check yours.”

  “Mine’s good.”

  “Can you see mine?”

  “No. You’re right, it’s not registering at all.”

  “I’ve asked the nurses, and the doctor. All they can say is the blow to my head must have damaged my iSense implant. I don’t believe them … Now, why should I trust someone I can’t even check up on?”

  “Do I look like whatever it is you’re so afraid of?”

  “You’d be surprised …” She turned away, angling her head into her pillow.

  Logan felt out of his depth and regretted his decision to come here. He got up while making a polite comment about her time and made a move to leave.

  “No, wait, please don’t go …” Something had shifted in her and for a couple of heartbeats a weak smile settled on her lips. Before Logan could respond she held up her hand. “You do look like an honest man. But appearances can be deceiving and believe me I know a lot regarding that. Maybe I can trust you, though. You can help me. I’m not safe in here. My friends can get me out but I need to get a message to them.”

  “Your friends?”

  She was tight-lipped, unwilling to say more.

  “But you’ve got protection.” Logan nodded back towards the door.

  “That’s worth nothing. Something’s going to happen, I just know it.”

  “Then, what?”

  “Sit down. Please. Hold your hands out.”

  “Why?”

  “Pull your chair closer and hold your hands out, on the bed, palms up. I’m not going to bite …”

  Once he was in a satisfactory position she reached out and held his fingertips between her own fingers and thumbs. He could now see her iTatts clearly. Running down the back of each forearm and across her hands was an intricate pattern; iSense told him it was a Mehndi design. The patterns were slowly rippling and changing colour, creating a mesmerizing effect. He guessed there was more to them than their exquisite artwork.

  “Now what?”

  “We’ve already started. Keep your eyes on mine and your face up. Now tell me your name.”

  “I’ve told you.”

  “Look, humour me if you want me to trust you. Now tell me your name.”

  “Mark Logan.”

  “What’s your favourite music?”

  “Twentieth-century rock.”

  “What’s the happiest moment of your life?”

  He thought for a moment and said, “My mom and dad threw me a surprise fifteenth party. Arranged it with my friends and everything …”

  “What was the saddest moment of your life?”

  He hesitated. “The day I lost my family … an accident.”

  Dexy’s focus softened. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “It was a long time ago, carry on.”

  “All right, now lie to me. What’s your name?”

  “Mick Jagger.”

  “Favourite music?”

  “Country.”

  She continued with more basic questions about his life, and then, unexpectedly, she said, “Tell me you love me.” She increased the grip on his fingers.

  “What?”

  “Don’t pull away. Tell me.”

  “I love you.”

  “Last one. Tell me you hate me.”

  Logan sighed. “I hate you.”

  “All right, we’re calibrated. Now we can talk – but don’t let go.”

  “Special iTatts with an iSense polygraph app?” stated Logan knowingly. Most people used micro expression apps for social use, but they weren’t always reliable.

  “Yes, but more than that. Before we continue, I need to ask you some other things first.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Did George Grist send you?”

  “No.”

  “Did the Guild send you?”

  “The who?”

  “Just answer. If you
don’t know them, say no – I’ll ask again …”

  Dexy continued to ask Logan a series of searching questions while she watched his face intently. All the while her iTatts pulsed their hypnotic patterns. He glanced down to their joined hands, finding the activity strangely erotic.

  Convinced he was there in the capacity he said he was, she let go and the spell was broken.

  “Welcome to my small circle of trusted friends, Mark. Now we can talk …”

  6

  “You’re telling me that you’re the daughter of George Grist? Hang on, is this another of your tests?”

  The dynamics between them had shifted after the conclusion of his iTatt audition. The softly, softly approach now seemed unnecessary, and Dexy was more responsive.

  “No, I really am his daughter,” she protested.

  “His daughter …” Logan echoed, incredulous of her claim. “Your father is the richest and most influential man in the world …”

  “Well, it’s true, whether you believe me or not.” Dexy sighed and sat back. Her expression was hard to read; a weary mix of frustration, fear and anger lived in her winsome features.

  “And I’m guessing he didn’t know you were his daughter,” Logan said, trying to fill in the gaps.

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s why he attacked you and pushed Carrie off the ledge.”

  “Pretty much.”

  Whoever she was and whatever her intentions, Logan couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. “Why are you telling me this? A few minutes ago you didn’t even believe who I said I was.”

  She held up her hands, showing off the Mehndi iTatts. “These never let me down. And I don’t have any other option. It’s as simple as that. You have to believe me, I really am in danger and I don’t know what else I can do. I have to trust someone, and right now you’re all I have.”

  “Then give me the maintenance key and maybe I can help you.”

  “I don’t have it right now. When my iSense comes back on line.”

  “So you don’t know where it is?”

  “No.”

  “Damn.” Without iSense, he knew she couldn’t deliver it.

  “But you can still help me.”

  Logan was doubtful. “I don’t know. I only have ten minutes with you. There are other ways I can get the key. I’ll go back to the playmate’s manufacturer; it’ll take longer, but I can –”

  “That won’t work.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Look, ask the officer for another ten minutes. Please. Make something up. Then I’ll do my best to answer your questions – and explain about the key.”

  “All right, but don’t play me.”

  “I won’t.”

  He got up and opened the door. The round, earnest face of officer Beaumont turned to regard him. “Just to let you know, it’s taking longer to verify the details I need. Ms Please’s iSense isn’t functioning. Check with the hospital staff. Maybe an extra ten or fifteen minutes?”

  Beaumont looked past him to check on the patient. “You all right?”

  Dexy nodded.

  Beaumont shrugged. “Take as long as you need.”

  It was a better result than he had expected but he decided not to push his luck. “Fifteen will do. Thanks.” He shut the door and faced Dexy Please once more.

  “Thank you, Mark. This means a lot to me. Now, what do you want know?”

  “The key?”

  “Ask me something else first.”

  Logan sighed lengthily. “All right – let’s suppose you are the daughter of George Grist. What the hell were you doing up there in his apartment? And as an escort? With a playmate. From where I come from that’s some pretty twisted stuff. I mean, did you …?”

  “What? No! He’s my father, even if he does mean nothing to me. I’ll let you in on a secret. He’s a gynoid fetishist.”

  Logan raised his brow, none the wiser. Before he consulted iSense, Dexy told him, “It means he’s got a thing for robots. You understand? It’s the playmate he’s always interested in.”

  “But he must have had a normal relationship to have you.”

  “And you think I haven’t thought about that? It’s another mystery in my fucked-up life ...”

  Logan sat down again and opened his hands. “All right, we have thirteen minutes left. Enlighten me as to why you were up there.”

  “For the record, I’m not a hooker. I was brought up near here, on Staten Island, in a respectable foster home, but I left in my teens. When Intrum found me, I was a professional dancer working in Studio Five, Chicago.”

  Logan knew of Intrum but let the details spill across his iSense head-up as she spoke:

  [Intrum: Self-professed subversive movement based on Intra-Mutualism. “Intrum” extols any method or technology that will lead to evolutionary progress and cooperation (of mankind) providing that path or process retains full individualism.]

  [Attached images + 3V + news clips?]

  Declined

  “My real or foster name is Susan Conway. Check it out – there must be records, you work in the Police Department.”

  Logan nodded guardedly, remaining noncommittal. He would check out those details later.

  Dexy continued. “Intrum told me things about my past that I had kept secret from everyone – even my closest friends. And there was stuff about Carrie as well, which didn’t make much sense at the time. Once they got my attention – and I mean like, completely – then they told me I was his daughter. I laughed at them, told them to go away and leave me alone. But they kept coming back. I’m not sure why, but I believed them in the end. And that was when they said that they needed me for their cause. Told me about the Guild and that I had the means to stop them. And –”

  “The Guild? Hang on …”

  [The Guild is a modern take on the Illuminati, supposedly consisting of “agents” planted in government positions and corporations, whose goal is to gain political power in order to influence and to establish a New World Order controlled through a hegemonistic society structured by technological rankings, with the wealthiest and most technically advanced individuals at the top of the structure. Members of the secret society are driven primarily by the philosophy of Transhumanism …]

  Transhumanism?

  [Transhumanism is a recognised international movement that aims to fundamentally transform the human condition through use of available technologies. The goal is to eliminate aging and to greatly enhance human intellectual, physical, and psychological capacities.]

  [Attached images + 3V + news clips?]

  Declined

  “They sound pretty much the same to me,” said Logan struggling with the concepts.

  “Well, they’re not. It’s to do with individualism, free will – that’s what Intrum told me.”

  “Yeah, I got that part.”

  “They told me that the Guild is driven by its end goal. It doesn’t care how it gets there. If they’re given their own way, we – people like me and you – will lose everything, including our freedom.”

  “One side would say the other side is the bad dude, wouldn’t it?” Logan wondered whether Dexy had been brainwashed, was a believer of a dangerous sect that paraded as something good and wholesome.

  “It’s not as simple as that.”

  “And you’re in the middle of something going on between them.”

  “Pretty much. I know this all sounds far-fetched – but it’s the truth.”

  “All right – tell me more about what Intrum wanted from you.”

  “Well, they tried to convince me to make some sort of play for his business, or GNG, when he dies, which is going to be soon. Until then, they would keep me secret – and at the right moment I’d just pop up and make my claim. I said no way – it scared the hell out of me. They tried to change my mind, but I was having none of it. I thought that was it, they’d leave me alone – but they had a back-up plan, only it was much more difficult.”

  “Why?”
/>
  “Huh, they wanted me to hand over Carrie so they could get her to Grist somehow. I said no way – over my dead body. She’s – she was – like a sister to me. So then they said I could do it – and it’d work better anyway as Carrie trusted me. I remember that I didn’t want to … but … they didn’t drop it … and …” She paused, as though something had escaped her, before blinking and carrying on. “And now I’m here, really messed up – and without Carrie.” She looked to the ceiling, her eyes filling. “Fuck, I don’t even know why I changed my mind. But I did. They had this plan. Set me up here, gave me a false ID. Then they gave me these …” She raised her hands up, showing off the Mehndi Itatts.

  “But why did Intrum want to get Carrie to Grist?”

  “Because she had information – and only my father could access it. He has the maintenance key – and it needed to be his voice.”

  “He has the key? But that doesn’t make sense.”

  “I don’t know everything. But I do know that Carrie goes way back – to when I was a child.”

  Logan had a glimmer of understanding. Somehow Carrie was special to Grist – and only he could access Carrie’s memories. “What was the information?”

  “I have a twin brother ...”

  Dexy’s claim was left hanging in the air between them. Any credibility that Logan had given Dexy’s story was being stretched to the limit. “Really ...?”

  Dexy picked up on his growing doubt. She rubbed her brow, part of it tenderly. Her hand trembled. “You’ve no idea how complicated or fucked up this is.”

  He reached out and gently pulled her hand down. “Look, I’m sorry – I’m tired and hung over. Let me get this right, you’re saying that when Intrum couldn’t talk you into laying claim to Grist’s empire, they wanted to take a different approach – with your brother instead. So where is he?”

  “That’s the thing – no one knows. We were split up at birth. Carrie came with me – but I think she was given information about my brother. When Intrum told me, I tried to get her to open up – so we wouldn’t have to meet with Grist. But she can’t. Anything to do with my brother is locked away in her brain. It’s like it’s some big secret or something.”