A Brother's Shadow: Murder, Friendship and Deception, page 21
Sharpe moved through the room, each step crunching glass or sticking to the spillages. In the centre of the floor, he came across a picture frame, face down. As he picked it up, the glass fronting rained down onto the floor creating a melodic tingle. He flipped the frame to reveal a sweet family picture in a luscious green field. Marco was a young boy and stood between his mother and father who each had a loving arm wrapped round him. Over Marco’s buoyant face and body lay the words WAR STARTER, etched in thick black ink. Placing the photo on a kitchen counter, Sharpe continued through the wreckage. Even with the hatred towards Marco and his father, this kind of act would never have happened when Vytech was in the Coalition. Authorities were seemingly turning a blind eye to misbehaviour, as long as it was aimed at a Thompson.
Sharpe passed through the living room section which was open plan with the kitchen. The leather sofa and armchair had been brutally dissected, sponge thrown across the floor. A screen which would have been used for a variety of purposes had spider-web cracks which spread from a central impact point. The light had been torn from the roof, leaving wires dangling freely. As he reached the door to the next room, Sharpe held his breath. There was the smell of rotting flesh that he was uncomfortably familiar with but the attack appeared relatively recent so there was no knowing what he would find on the other side.
Cautiously swinging the door open, Sharpe slowly unveiled a room as ransacked as the last. This room had previously been an office. There was an upturned desk with wires strewn everywhere. Whatever they had been attached to was gone or broken into so many pieces it was no longer recognisable. Just like in the last room, words of hatred spanned the wall. Where the paint had dribbled, it looked as if the walls themselves were bleeding due to the trauma of the raiding. After getting a distance into the room, Sharpe spotted Julius. He leaned against the far wall, limbs splayed out. He wore a full body suit that had thin ridges, created by underlying wiring, scattering across it. They all converged at his tightly hooded head upon which sat a VR visor that had phallic symbols, reminiscent of tribal drawings, covering it. Julius was carpeted in food wrappers and as Sharpe approached, the stench of sweat built. Sharpe prodded Julius in the shoulder and he fell slightly to the side. His mouth was wide open, saliva drooling down his chin. Sharpe put two fingers to Julius’s neck and, to his relief, discovered a consistent beat. He shook Julius vigorously to bring him back to reality. Nothing happened. Sharpe then changed tack and began shouting the man’s name. The room and its battered contents seemed to quiver but Julius remained unmoved. Frustrated, Sharpe looked around. Underneath an overturned chair he could see a strap which looked similar to the one holding the visor to Julius’s head. Sharpe hauled the chair back upright and found the prize the strap had promised. The strap had been contorted where it joined the visor but the visor itself, which was made of a thick black curved piece, was still in reasonable condition. He pulled the strap over the back of his head. This was only one part of a much more complex device which could also come with headgear and a body suit, like the one worn by Julius. It could send feedback, making the virtual reality feel almost completely real. These parts were premium items, so Sharpe assumed Julius only owned the one he was wearing. It was, however, still necessary for Sharpe to find sensory gloves so he could interact with objects in the VR world.
After searching for a while, Sharpe found the gloves in a drawer that had been thrown out onto the floor. He pulled the gloves over his hands and seated himself in the chair he had previously righted. After making himself comfortable, he pulled down the visor and his world went pitch black. Then he pressed the on button.
Lights flickered in a disorienting array and then he found himself standing in a dark cell. He looked down at his body to see he was wearing a simplistic white outfit. The only thing in the cell was a hovering screen in front of him that gave the option of joining the active world or creating a new one. Sharpe reached out an arm and selected the option to join the active world. To Sharpe’s surprise, a password was not required and with another blur of lights, he arrived in a well-lit room. Scattered through the air in all directions were screens with rough workings on them. Many were as tall as Sharpe. Some described what had happened in minute-by-minute detail. One simply had the question written in bold letters: which civilisation gains from this? Below it was a list of all major civilisations. Sharpe gradually made his way between the screens, his eyes unable to focus for long on any one of them. He was in awe at the sheer detail on some of the displays. To him, it appeared inconceivable that a single person could grasp an understanding of it all. It was as if he had stumbled directly into the workings of Julius’s mind, which created a claustrophobic feel and he again regretted his decision to help Flower and Reed.
Then he noticed a flickering below. He could feel nothing, but he was stood inside Julius, and consequently his legs were glitching all over the place, creating a disorienting experience. Julius also wore the simple white outfit. Just as in his room, he sat on the floor, but this time his head was positioned on his knees, his arms wrapped around his legs. Unlike Sharpe, he could clearly feel their body parts intertwining and exploded from his ball. His head swung round to see who had spooked him. His eyes were so bloodshot that they looked more like the inside of grapefruits. ‘What are you doing here?’ he exclaimed, rising awkwardly to his feet. His stiff actions indicated he had been seated a long time.
‘I came to find you,’ Sharpe replied.
‘This is a complete disrespect to my privacy!’ Julius paused and scrunched up his face. ‘Were you just standing inside me?’
‘I tried getting you out of here before coming in.’
‘I guess that was the violent earthquake thing that hit a few minutes back,’ Julius said, still in a raised voice.
‘Look, Julius, I know it’s nauseating to unexpectedly be pulled from VR, so I decided not to turn your headset off. I’m here to help you work out what happened, but if you don’t want my support, believe me, I will happily leave right away.’
Julius closed his eyes briefly and upon reopening them, he spoke. ‘I apologise. I’m very tired as I’m sure you can see. I’m grateful for anything you can do. So, what do you have in mind?’
‘Well, that’s why I’m here. I need you to direct me. I’m a lieutenant so I am able to access some classified material.’
‘I also had security clearance but unfortunately that did not get me as close to an answer as I would have liked. Definitely worth someone else having a try though.’
‘So, what have you got for me to work off?’ Sharpe asked, gazing around at the overwhelming number of screens, praying Julius would significantly narrow them down.
‘Despite appearances, not much. This world is just a maze of dead ends I’m afraid.’ Julius swung an arm, pushing all the screens back and away from the two of them. He looked at his arm and, from nothing, pulled out a tiny cube which he manipulated to expand into a large rectangle the same size as the other screens. Julius tapped it three times and the pair suddenly had three screens as walls around them. Each screen quickly flicked into life and displayed condensed information. Julius moved round the screens in a clockwise fashion. ‘In terms of which civilisation would gain the most from this, I have no idea.’
‘Surely, Kroatons have gained the most from this?’ Sharpe queried.
‘Yes, but for one thing it would have been a huge risk, and secondly, I’ve been ambassador to them since the end of the Kroaton War and the whole thing does not fit their culture. If they want a fight, they make it clear. I doubt they would ever consider this cloak-and-dagger approach. I believe if a person or people set Marco up, they are almost certainly part of Vytech and know him well. It may be chance that Marco was the victim of their plot, but this seems highly unlikely considering the amount of evidence that was built against him.’
‘Or he was the one who did it,’ Sharpe said, but not meaning to say it out loud. Silence fell and Sharpe raised an apologetic hand.
To his surprise and relief, Julius did not contest what he had said but instead looked at him with deep sorrow in his eyes.
Eager to break the silence, Sharpe spoke again. ‘Assuming these people both know Marco well and have a strong disliking towards him, I have some ideas for who to talk to first.’
The pair spent a lengthy period going over other details Julius had unearthed. Sharpe fought to concentrate but the thought of a relaxed bath had a great pull. The reward had better be something darn special, he thought. Finally finishing their discussions, Sharpe got ready to leave.
‘Before I leave,’ he said, ‘you are aware your house has been ransacked, aren’t you?’
‘Yeah, it happened last night. I came out of the VR to see three of them destroying everything. There wasn’t much I could do so I just pretended to have never woken.’ There was little care in Julius’s voice and Sharpe decided not to press further.
‘Good luck and see you soon I suppose, Julius.’
‘Thanks, Lieutenant...’
‘Sharpe.’
‘I probably should have asked that before,’ Julius said matter-of-factly. ‘Thanks, Lieutenant Sharpe.’
With that, Sharpe’s embodiment in the virtual world vanished.
26.
Sharpe entered the firing range. Live rounds were not used but there was still a continual popping as the line of guns replicated the sensations of being fired. Down the range, red dots appeared on targets where bullets would have struck. He passed four people who were focused in on their targets, unaware of him moving behind them. He then came to a young woman who was rapidly switching between two pistols, releasing shots with blistering accuracy and speed. Her ebony hair, in a ponytail, swayed on her back as she shifted between guns. Sharpe stood behind her, watching the red dots build over the centre of the target. Finally, the woman stopped firing, so Sharpe tapped her on the shoulder. Her head whipped round.
‘You are a very easy person to find,’ Sharpe chuckled.
‘Got to be on form for the Kro bastards, sir,’ Ferreira replied, swiftly emptying the magazines and placing them and the guns on a counter beside her.
‘From what I saw, you’re very much ready.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘But that’s not what I’m here to talk about.’
Sharpe led Ferreira to seats at the back of the firing range. From their position, they could see almost half the people lined up in their booths. The noise coming from the shots provided a constant patter but was not loud enough to prevent a casual conversation.
‘So, Ferreira, obviously Marco was detained a while ago but he was part of my flight and therefore I would like to just complete the picture on everyone’s feelings of what’s happened.’
‘Right?’ Ferreira said, shifting herself into a new position, looking surprised by the topic of discussion.
‘It’s just a few questions and shouldn’t take long,’ Sharpe reassured her, eager to keep to his own words. ‘First, what is your opinion about what happened to Marco?’
‘Not gonna lie, I have no sympathy for him.’
‘Why not? He was a nice guy and was a good part of our team.’
‘If you ask me, he was just a spoiled prick. I don’t know how much you know about me, sir, but my parents aren’t Vytech citizens, and growing up we had nothin’. We lived on a fringe world and even as a child I spent most of my time on the scrap heaps to salvage anything which may have enough value to put food on my family’s table. When not on the scrap heaps, my parents, who weren’t educated, would spend their limited spare time trying to help me prepare for the Vytech Testing. My dad trained me how to fight and my mum learnt the Vytech curriculum so she could teach me. I never could hang out with friends or nothin’, all that mattered was improving. When I was sixteen, my family sold everything they owned to get me to a Vytech Testing. They gave up everything to allow me a chance of a better life.’
Sharpe considered interrupting but sensed he had unleashed a storm and he thought it better to let it quell itself.
‘Marco has had everything given to him on a plate. His dad has endless connections, his best friend has endless connections. All he’s ever had to do is be around and people pull him forward to places he doesn’t deserve to be. In fact, I’d go as far as saying it’s nice to not see his face around anymore.’
‘What if he didn’t assassinate Kirach? Surely his treatment would then be unfair?’
‘I ain’t losing any sleep,’ Ferreira answered without hesitation.
‘But he’s lost so much.’
‘This universe is not fair. My mate got taken by pirates who would’ve sold her into slavery at the age of six. I would not wish his situation on anyone, but it’s about time he got served a bad dish.’
Sharpe was not unearthing information he wanted so he changed the line of questions and abandoned all subtlety. ‘Did you see Marco on the night of the assassination?’
‘Not that I remember,’ Ferreira answered indifferently.
‘So, where were you on that night?’
‘With respect, sir.’ Ferreira’s face was tightening up and Sharpe could tell she was doing everything not to explode. ‘I’m not sure what you’re trying to get from this conversation but I’m not comfortable with it.’ With that, she rose from her seat and marched back to where she had been shooting. Sharpe watched as she loaded both pistols and fired them off simultaneously until the magazines emptied. She repeated the process incessantly. Remaining at the table, Sharpe reflected on how his skills as a secret detective could probably do with being brushed up on.
‘Why are you even doing this, Alfie?’ he asked himself. ‘What are the odds that you find anything? He seemed a good kid, but you’ve been wrong before.’
Ferreira left the range before Sharpe as he was busy planning how to interrogate Green more subtly. With a series of questions stacked in his head, he prepared to leave. On his way out, he noticed V-News was broadcasting. They were reporting how the Kroatons were preparing to make a move for Vytech’s Ramsey System and the S.T. gate within it. Being the only gate in the system, if the Kroatons earned victory, Vytech would struggle to launch a significant counter-attack as only those in control of a gate can decide when it is used. This news concerned Sharpe, and indicated that the Kroatons were confident about their comparative strength. A slight sickening feeling built in his gut as he knew this first major move meant he would be heading to combat very soon. Recalling his experiences in the Second Kroaton War, he could not help considering whether he should have quit the Navy as soon as war with them reoccurring became a possibility.
Green proved to be a much more difficult person to find than Ferreira. Sharpe checked his room and visited all his favoured spots around the station. Despite hoping to have completed his side of the bargain before the close of the day, and having already spent an inordinate amount of energy, Sharpe convinced himself to wait until after their drills were completed the next day.
The following evening, after drills ended, Green was, as usual, the first to leave. This time, however, Sharpe was on his tail and after they were out of earshot of the others, he called after him. He then led Green to a café where he began his highly anticipated conversation. First, he attempted to make Green comfortable with generic chat but soon moved to the matter of Marco.
‘I know someone looking to acquire a personal, non-military spec rifle to show those Kro’s the mistake they made. Do you have any idea who may have contacts to help with that? I was thinking Ferreira may with her past—’
Green interrupted. ‘Yeah, that could work, but you’d also have to buy yourself a new head while you’re at it.’
‘Not Ferreira then?’
‘Ferreira won’t speak of, let alone go near, illegal traders as she’s petrified of getting kicked out of Vytech. Although, I may be able to help you.’ Green’s eyes dropped and his tone lost some strength. ‘Blue used to go hunting with our father on Bestia Mundi and he got some personalised guns for it.’
‘Isn’t hunting on Bestia Mundi ridiculously expensive?’
‘Yeah, but my father owns by far the largest leep plantation on Aurum Terra so money isn’t too much of an issue.’
‘Wait, does he own the Golden Leep chain?’
‘He does indeed,’ Green replied, a proud grin flirting with his face.
‘Oh, wow. So, you could get me a gun?’ Sharpe asked.
‘I’d need a bit of time to get in touch with Blue’s contact but I’m sure I could,’ Green said.
‘Wonderful.’
Sharpe asked further questions about Green’s father and what it was like being son to one of the wealthiest men on his home planet. Eventually, Sharpe moved back to what he was actually interested in.
‘You know what I was thinking the other day?’ Sharpe said, gazing loosely to the side of Green.
‘What?’
‘I was wondering if Marco is still alive and if he is, what he’s up to.’
‘I hope he is dead,’ Green said with an eerie calm to his voice.
Sharpe pulled his head back as if dodging a punch. ‘I suppose you believe he was the assassin who started the war then?’
Green grunted. ‘Even after he killed Blue, I was naïve to the evil inside him. But I have since been made very aware, so it is no surprise what he did to the Kroaton ambassador. I cannot explain the anger I felt when I heard he’d escaped.’ Green’s teeth were clenched, and the pair sat in silence as Sharpe waited for Green to calm down.
When Sharpe thought Green was ready to proceed, he put down his drink and sat forward. ‘I remember the day of the assassination vividly. I was watching a movie with some of the guys when the alarms sounded. You weren’t there with us, were you?’
It was several seconds before Green replied. ‘No, I was in my room the whole time.’
‘Probably for the best,’ Sharpe laughed, leaning back into his seat.
Green rose to his feet. ‘If it’s all right with you, I’d best be going. I’ve plans for this evening and it’d be nice to first shower off the sweat from our drills.’
