“That’s a good way of looking at it.”
They walked up the veranda steps and sat down on a timber bench. Windsor again took in the quietness, taking a deep breath to grasp the freshness of it all. In nature, he saw balance and order. But in man’s world, things lingered, where they needed to be in order. He believed what he believed because it gave order to the chaos.
“Was the fire necessary?” asked Windsor.
Starkey looked at Windsor. “I hope you’re not accusing me of having something to do with that fire and the death of those workers? No . . . no . . . it was a genuine accident. Those men were talented men, they enabled the technology. We best hope there are no more bugs with the technology as our experts are now gone. I’m saddened by what happened.”
“I’m sorry . . . it wasn’t an accusation, Starkey. Are we able to fix the problem that just showed up with the mannequin?”
“Yes, I have that one under control. It’s a proximity thing. We need to specify the distance range involved in the transport. I forgot to put that in the code.”
“Is that what happened with the recent incident?
“Yep, I think so. They realised as soon as they did the transfer. A wrong setting. It won’t happen again. And, of course, he was meant to be transported back to point of entry.”
“We’re making life sound so cheap.”
“We are . . . I’m not sure why Lucas chose this man. That was not our intended strategy—we were meant to be focusing on those that would not be missed if something like this did happen. As for now we have moved into dangerous territory. We could be held responsible for his death. So, before we go any further, we may need to consider if it’s all worth it.”
Windsor’s chest tightened. It was only a suggestion. That’s all it was. Why didn’t Lucas put up a fight, suggest someone else? There was nothing personal there for Lucas. It was just another person.
“The person was a Christian, Starkey. That’s one positive thing. He’s gone to a better place.” That was lame but he couldn’t let guilt get in the way now. They had come too far. Sitting in that funeral, and knowing what he knew, was one of the hardest things he had done.
“So you say, Grant. But it’s irrelevant. What is it they call it? Accessory after the fact; I think that is more relevant. Is it worth us continuing? Are the risks getting too high?”
“I believe it’s worth it, Starkey. We need to help society. I don’t think we can see the changes in society your technology is going to bring. I think it is going to go beyond your wildest dreams. The death of one or two, compared to well over a thousand deaths on our roads each year, not to mention the follow-on deaths and suicides . . . it’s a small sacrifice. I know the loved ones will feel differently, but we need to ride out this storm and introduce your technology to the world.”
“You sound like a politician, Grant. And you have won me over. Let’s soldier on.”
“Soldier on, we will.” Windsor chose not to let Starkey know that he’d known the man who died.
Windsor tried to relax. He found the timber and cast-iron bench hard on the backside. It creaked when he moved. He looked out over the property and noticed a large dead gum tree. Everything dies eventually. In the choice of life or death, what would he choose? His fellow believers would say death, because that would get them home, to heaven. We’re dead men on a journey, they would say. Only meant to be here for a short time. We’re not to love the world or the things of the world. Windsor wasn’t sure if he thought the same, but he kept those thoughts to himself.
Windsor’s ears picked up a sound, a distant sound. He looked up, and beyond the dead tree he saw a silver glitter in the sky.
Windsor pointed to the sky. “As on cue . . . I was on a plane the other week and my thoughts, or should I say, my thanks went to the aviation pioneers and how we have benefited so much from what they did. I’m sure some died so that we could benefit.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t bring your religion into it, Windsor. Isn’t that what your faith is about, a man dying for the benefit of mankind?”
“It is, Starkey. And it’s a good point . . . so you do know some things, hey?”
“Let me show you a trick.” Starkey pointed his phone at the plane and then showed Windsor the result: a little thumbnail displayed showing the flight number, speed, altitude, last port of call and destination, and how far away it was from them.
“Technology . . . it’s amazing what they can do these days. And it makes me worry about that man’s death. Will they be able to trace it back to us?”
“Lucas viewed the security video. The victim actually fell into the view of the camera, so the authorities would have no idea what caused him to fall.”
“Why didn’t Lucas just move the body?”
“It would have been caught on video.”
“Makes sense. So what’s next?”
“We’ll need to do a few more human trials. But we will be much more selective this time.”
Windsor agreed.
Chapter 5
IT WAS THE FIRST day of summer, a hot morning, and the rail tracks were already shimmering in the sun.
Judy’s head rested on the window. She enjoyed feeling the rhythmic vibrations from the train’s wheels as they rolled over the rail joints. She smiled as she felt the sun’s rays filter through and touch her face. She saw many people dozing as she looked around. Eyelids heavy, she soon joined them.
A loud screech woke her. She was confused. It was dark. More screeches, and she realised she was in a tunnel with the dark dirty walls amplifying the sound of the wheels as they made slight adjustments to stay on the tracks.
Another train passed. Heads flicked past in the lighted train carriage windows. It reminded her of a PowerPoint slide show. People just don’t look happy she thought, looks of nothingness, looks of gloom—what dread awaits them? She laughed silently when she answered her own question: the dread of work!
Her mind started to rev up. The other train had passed now. Staring out the window, past her own reflection, always wondering what creatures lurked in such dark places. Rats—big rats—and homeless people. She caught a glimpse of some graffiti and added graffiti writers to her list of those that lurked. Light penetrated darkness; she knew the station was getting closer.
She watched some passengers stand and head towards the door before the train stopped. She preferred to stay seated until the panic to get out died down. Once stationary, she got out of her seat and stepped out of the train. She moved toward the escalators with her handbag over her shoulder, and mentally tuned into the phone resting in her hand. She hoped the call would come.
Off the escalators and towards the exit, she walked down the steps towards the pedestrian crossing. Please, God, get him to call. And then she wondered how God received such requests. Did he have big screen that he monitored? How silly. She didn’t even believe in God.
She slowed as she reached the pedestrian crossing. The vibrations started in her palm: it gave her a mild shock. Excitedly, she brought the phone up for viewing and kept walking. She opened the screen, her heart picked up a couple of beats—it was him. She saw her phone sailing through the air before pain and confusion overtook her. She experienced a brief period of light then entered darkness. She was in a place of torment.
<°)))><
The early morning sun reflected off the roof of the white van. The city haze hadn’t yet settled in, but the cars and smokers came descending on Brisbane City. The white van sat parked on a street above Central Station. Lucas stood outside, leaning on the van, smoking. The blue haze of his cigarette climbed up the side of the van and then drifted up to join the other pollutants. Lucas stubbed his cigarette on the pavement and kicked the butt into the gutter. He opened the back of the van and climbed in.
