Halfhead

28

Light, so bright it was painful. Will skidded to a halt, blinking, one hand up in front of his eyes. Nothing was visible past the broken door-the rest of the room hidden behind the lights shining straight into his eyes.

‘Mr Hunter,’ said a familiar, mid-Atlantic accent, ‘hey, nice to see you again. Drop the gun.’ Will snapped the Whomper round, pointing it straight at the voice.

‘Whoa there! You shoot, you blow a hole in the lovely DS Cameron! Want to see her head explode when you whomp it? You want that? Cos if you do, go right ahead.’

Will squinted into the glare. ‘Jo, are you OK?’

Silence.

Then Ken said, ‘Don’t be rude, Sweetheart, the nice man asked you a question.’

‘Kaaaaaaaarl thhhfugin basstdd Will, shoothfuger…’ Her voice was weak, slurred and swollen, but it was Jo alright.

‘I want to see her!’

‘OK, but remember: you use that cannon of yours, she’s not gonna need a party hat for Christmas.’ The light flickered and dimmed.

The shapes were fuzzy at first, just blobs, reflected again and again in the wraparound mirror, but as Will watched they resolved themselves into three figures: a gorilla in fatigues standing against the back wall, carrying a Thrummer; Ken Peitai standing beside one of the interrogation chairs; Jo strapped into it.

Her face was swollen and bruised, her left eye little more than a puffy, prune-coloured slit. Blood caked the side of her mouth, her lip split like the skin on an over-ripe tomato. Half a dozen wires were taped to her head and two intravenous lines ran from her arm to a small, cat-sized box festooned with little blinking lights.

Will twisted the focus on the Whomper’s lightsight until the green point sat dead between Ken’s shifty eyes. ‘Bye, Ken.’

Peitai flinched. ‘Henderson!’

The gorilla in the suit hauled his Thrummer round and Will shot him in the face. The Whomper’s bark echoed around the circular room as Henderson’s body twitched its way to the floor, fountaining bright red up the mirrored wall.

‘Nice shootin’ Tex.’

Will swung the Whomper back, but Ken wasn’t in the same place-he now stood directly behind Jo, one hand wrapped up in her hair, the other holding a Palm Screamer.

‘Now you got that out of your system, what say we have us a little chat like civilized human beings? OK?’

‘Let her go.’

‘You put that thing down or I do us up a batch of sizzlin’ long pig. You catch my drift?’

‘I said-’

Ken placed the Screamer against Jo’s right arm and thumbed the trigger. Hot noise burst from the weapon and her skin swelled and cracked, letting out puffs of steam and the smell of roasting meat. She turned to look at the cooking joint, her face slack, eyes not quite focused…And then the screaming started. It began as a low moan, barely audible over the pop and crackle of her flesh as it baked, then it got louder and more piercing, as painful to hear as it was to watch.

‘You like your meat rare or well done?’

Will tore his eyes away from the sight and the Whomper growled in his hands.

‘Now, now,’ said Peitai. ‘You put that thing down or it’s brains next on the menu.’ The Screamer rested lightly against Jo’s temple.

‘Do it and I’ll kill you.’

A grin split Ken’s face. ‘Yeah, but then she’ll be dead and I’ll be dead and the man standin’ behind you’s gonna turn your insides to mush.’ Will felt something hard jab into the small of his back. With all the light bouncing back and forth from the mirrors he hadn’t seen anyone else enter the room.

Ken winked. ‘So you’ll be dead too. Now where’s the point in that? Much better you put down the Whomper and we see if we can’t figure out a solution to our little misunderstanding. DS Cameron here can always get herself a new arm when we’re done.’ He shrugged. ‘Can’t get herself a new head.’

The box hooked up to Jo’s arm bleeped and her screams faded to a dull whimper.

Will lowered the Whomper to the floor.

‘There we go-all one big happy family.’ Ken pointed the Screamer at Will’s discarded weapon and melted the casing into plastic slag. ‘Lincoln, help Mr Hunter to his seat.’

Hot blue sparks exploded behind Will’s eyes as all the muscles in his back contracted at once. He fell to the floor, twitching. The Zapper must have been on light stun, or he’d be unconscious by now. Rough hands grabbed his shoulders, dragging him into an interrogation chair.

Will gritted his teeth and tried to punch Lincoln in the throat, but his arms weren’t working. Pins and needles pulsed through his arms and legs as Lincoln strapped him down and wired him up to a bank of monitors. ‘There’s a pickup team on its way, Ken. It’s finished. You’re through.’

Peitai shrugged. ‘I’m gonna give you a chance to think things through, Will.’ He clicked a panel open on the box attached to Jo’s arm and started flicking switches. ‘We’re not like them other shlubs in Special Ops, we’re Unit 731. You’re just Network. Trust me, if we need you to disappear, you go bye-byes. My boss: he wants to see you filling a little jar on his shelf. Me: I think, even though you’ve been a right royal pain in the ass, you’re one of the Good Guys, like me.’

He finished fiddling with the box and put a hand on Jo’s shoulder. A thick line of drool silvered her chin. ‘I think you and me could do a lot of good here, Will.

‘You know what, Ken?’ The sensation was starting to come back-Will tried to work one of his hands loose. ‘You’re not “one of the Good Guys”. You’re scum.’

‘I’m deeply hurt to hear that.’ Ken sighed. ‘I know it looks bad, but it’s the only way we’re gonna win the war.’

‘We’re not at war!’

‘Will, Will, Will. We’re always at war. You just don’t get to hear about it any more. Sure we let the armed forces wave the flag when they’re off on them international peacekeeping missions, and all that humanitarian bullshit, but that’s not where the real fight is. It’s here.’

‘Bollocks.’

‘You know how people in Oldcastle always look so damn stupid? Know why that is? Cos some bastard put this chemical in the water that retards neural development. An’ you wanna know who did it? It was one of our allies. Not our enemies, our friends did that to us.’ Ken shook his head. ‘Unbelievable.’

‘You see,’ he said, settling back against Jo’s chair, ‘it ain’t about land or religion or any of that crap anymore. It’s about money. They make enough of us stupid-we can’t compete with them. They make enough of us infertile and we got no workforce in twenty years. They make us riot and kill each other…’ He shrugged again. ‘We can’t prove the VRs weren’t caused by a manmade pathogen, released into the wild on purpose. We need to have an antidote in case they decide to do it again.’

‘Don’t speak shite. You’re not looking for a cure; this is a weapons programme!’

The smile disappeared from Ken’s face.

‘OK: you got me. We’re buildin’ a weapon, so what? “They” do it all the time: look what happened to Oldcastle.’

‘Chemical warfare is illegal!’

‘Jesus, Will, grow up. This ain’t the God-damn World War Cup, this is real life. All’s fair in love and war, remember?’ He slapped another smile on his face, straightened his tie and gently slipped the IV lines out of Jo’s uncooked arm.

‘You’re using human beings as lab rats!’

‘Eggs and omelettes, Will, eggs and omelettes. How we supposed to fight the bad guys if we ain’t got any weapons?’

Ken turned and faced a seam in the mirrored wall, popping it open to reveal a hidden door and a small, quiet passageway beyond. ‘Down the end of that corridor there’s a shuttle bay.’ He pulled the electrical pickups off Jo’s forehead and dropped them on the floor. ‘I can put her in a car and away she goes to A &E. She’s got so much crap in her veins she’s gonna remember none of this. All you need to do is get with the programme. Help your country.’

Will scowled. ‘And if I don’t?’

‘She dies. You die. The two monkeys you came here with die…if they’re not already dead. We can’t have you out there shootin’ your mouth off, Will. When we use this stuff we gotta make sure there’s nothin’ linkin’ it back to the powers that be. Can you imagine the world of shit we’d be in if they found out the Scottish Government infected a foreign country with VR?’

Will watched as a thin stream of gravy leaked out of Jo’s roasted skin.

‘How the hell can you do this?’

‘Cos I have to. We ain’t evil monsters and this ain’t my idea of fun.’ He ran a hand across Jo’s bruised and shiny forehead. ‘What d’you say sport? Last chance: you gonna join us?’

Will closed his eyes and hung his head. ‘You promise you’ll let her go.’

‘Give you my word. You join the team and she goes free. We’ll pay for any care she needs. The two of you live happily ever after.’

‘And the others?’

‘Well, they’ll have to make up their own minds, but at least they’ll get the option.’

Play the hero and get everyone killed, or join the bad guys. Become responsible for atrocities. Save Jo’s life…

Will hung his head. ‘I’ll do it.’

Ken nodded and looked at his own green-suited reflection in the mirrored wall. ‘You get that, sir?’

A cold, disembodied voice floated out from hidden speakers. ‘He’s lying.’

‘Are you sure he isn’t-’

‘Positive. You know what to do.’

Ken sagged. ‘Yes, sir.’ He looked Will in the eye. ‘Jeez I hate this bit.’ He took the Screamer and pointed it at Will’s head. ‘I’m real sorry about this. I thought we could make it turn out different.’ Ken pressed the trigger.

A faint heat washed over Will’s face and then the Screamer went ‘plink’.

‘Sonovabitch.’ Ken turned the device over in his hand and peered at the power reading. ‘Empty. Lincoln, you want to do the honours?’

‘Aye, sir.’

Will felt the cold barrel of a Whomper pressed against the side of his head. He glowered at Peitai. ‘I will kill you. This world or the next: I’ll find you and I’ll kill you.’

Ken smiled sadly. ‘Guess it’s gonna have to be the next, buddy, cos your time in this one is up. Do him.’

The man on the end of the Whomper said ‘Aye, s-’ and then exploded.