“When you’re not contributing what do you do? What do you do with your self-time?”
I thought, but again I couldn’t seem to establish any coherent response — the images of my life associated with her question came to my brain unbidden, and the words associated with those images spilled out of my mouth. Perhaps it was just that I felt comfortable with her and wanted to tell her the unvarnished truth.
“I read a lot, and spend a lot of time thinking about things. Flicks, backgammon, um, that’s about it really. Pretty sad isn’t it?”
“Do you trav much?”
‘No, the trip to the Thai Geographic was the first trip out of New Singapore for over a year, and that trip was only to a resort on Langkawi, less than forty minutes by Lev. It’s strange but I seem to spend a lot of time by myself, but then again that might not be so strange. One way or another I’ve spent most of my life alone. My earliest memory, I was four. My uncle had just sent me to an early learning camp in Scotland. It was freezing and the first recollection I have is that I was crying because I was cold and nothing was familiar. I remember the matron telling me not to be such a baby and shutting and locking the door behind her as she said that.”
“What happened to your parents?” she asked her eyes wide and her voice low at the sadness of my first memory.
“I never knew them. They were killed in a car crash just after I was born, and my uncle — my father’s brother — became my legal guardian.”
“Are you close with your uncle?”
I snorted through my nose in a bitter laugh. “No, I don’t think anyone’s close to my uncle. He’s always been sort of vague. I mean I think he’s only physically touched me maybe less than five times in my life and three of those were handshakes at public gatherings where I’d won something.”
“Were you a bright student?”
“I don’t know if I was bright. Well yes I was, but it was more that studying was all I did. I went from one fast learning curve to another, and I’m lying here wondering if I’ve learnt anything at all in all those years.”
I smiled at her. I was fully aware that this was the most I’d ever revealed about myself in a personal way and of my own free will to anyone in my life, but I didn’t care. I’d known her for less than an hour and a half, but time didn’t matter — her eyes told me that I could trust her. I felt sleepy, my eyelids drooped but I kept my eyes open, barely.
“I’m twenty-six. How old are you?” Mariko said. She was still holding my hand and now she stroked the inside of my palm with her fingers. I let my hand lie still in her touch.
“Thirty-four. I’ll be thirty-five next July. When is your birthday?”
“September, September the 15th.”
“You said earlier that you had just spent some time in Geneva. What knowledge were you acquiring there?”
I closed my eyes, the effort of holding them open was just too much. I heard her say something, but it was as if the sound in my ears was being turned down, slowly. Her voice faded until I felt a deep sense of ease and fell into a deep sleep.
Mariko kept holding his hand with hers, and with the other reached for her Devstick, lying beside her cheek where she had been able to keep an eye on it.
She said softly, “He’s asleep.”
Jonah grunted and moved, his hand slipping out of hers. She wanted to grasp it but was too late, and now it swung slowly towards the edge of the Siteazy Jonah was in.
A new data stream came through on to the Devstick at the top of a long stream of data from Agent Cochran, the UNPOL officer she was reporting to. She read the reply from Cochran.
“I’m surprised he lasted that long, but anyway we found out what we needed. Thanks for your help. You can dump him as soon as you reach the Orbiter. He’s not hiding anything.”
Mariko looked across at Jonah. She felt relieved and she felt dirty. Undercover was not her thing, she didn’t like deceit, and although most of what she’d said to Jonah was the truth, the reason that she had met him was a lie. Yes, she could dump him now, and that is what she should do. Mariko lay back in her seat, staring at the ceiling of the spaceship. She didn’t often feel confused but now her thoughts ran in a jumbled mess of emotion.
Looking at Jonah, fast asleep, drugged, she thought about what to do. He’s a really nice guy, and he is attractive. I don’t want to dump him and I don’t want to have lied to him, but it’s too late for that. How can I ever tell him? Well maybe there’ll be a way, when he’s cleared and contributing again. I can take him out for a dinner and explain. Explain what? That you lied to him and interviewed him while under a Truth Treatment? That you arrived at the Nineveh three minutes after he’d entered the pool? She had no ready answers.
A mind that is clouded with feelings and one that has been touched by what she has heard, is not a mind that will make rational decisions, and although she knew that the best thing for her career was to dump Jonah at Orbiter, she also knew that she wouldn’t.
Chapter 17
Titanium Mine Shaft, Shackleton Moonbase, The Moon
Friday, 13 December 2109 10:15am
Gabriel flipped back and forth between the image of Mark lying in the Siteazy, and the image of Sharon Cochran in the Trace Operations Center on Earth. The images were slightly delayed given the distance between them, but Gabriel had a complete dataset for the entire time that she had been logged in.
“And as for you, Cochran, I’m going to burn your mind out before this is over.”
Gabriel was tired, he hadn’t slept for over forty-eight hours, but still he refused himself the sleeper against the wall a short distance from the Devcockpit in the room where he and Mark had spoken. He was tired but satisfied. So far his plans were succeeding. Some things had gone awry but for the most part everything had worked out. Mark, as Jonah, was primed. He hated putting his long-lost brother in this situation, but he really didn’t have any choice.
At their last meeting Maloo had asked him, “Would you hesitate if it was not Mark, if it was another human so well fitted to this task?”
And Gabriel had known the answer before Maloo had opened his mouth, taking his indecision as doubt. There was no doubt in Gabriel’s mind that Mark had to be the one, was in fact the only one who could get close enough to Sir Thomas and had the skills, whether he knew it or not, to survive the encounter and achieve the task. At least Mark had a slight chance: anyone else, including himself, would be a complete failure.
Mark’s hypnosis had gone well. It had been exhausting for Gabriel, constantly checking on the Dev for the cues and memories that he had to erase for Mark to stand a chance with Cochran or Truth Treatments. Mark had to be a Hawk, and his memories had to be perfect. It had been a painful process and doing it had drained Gabriel.
Maloo had taken Mark to the Nineveh before they’d put the comms back online. He’d wiped the last remaining images of Mark being helped to his VacEnv through the lobby of the Nineveh, and then he had waited for Mark to leave. He needed Mark to leave quickly, didn’t want him hanging around on the Moon for two reasons. The first was that he had a flight to catch. With Mark on Far Side, UNPOL security would be tight — too tight to move — and it would greatly increase the risk of their capture. The second was for Mark. If he returned immediately, Gabriel would be able to at least keep an eye on the first part of the journey, and if required, could be in a position to intervene.
Maloo had been watching for anyone checking in to the Nineveh and they’d picked up Mariko and her last transmission from Cochran before she’d created the encounter with Mark. They’d reacted quicker than he’d thought they would, and it showed the intensity with which Cochran was tracing him. To put a trace on the nephew of the Director of UNPOL took guts and was indication of a fierce attention to detail. The blocks he’d put in Mark’s mind should be good enough to resist a Truth Treatment in the White Room so anything they could do up here wasn’t a concern. As far as Mark knew he really was Jonah, so his truth was his safety.