Helix Nexus, Chris Lofts [best android ereader .txt] 📗

the edge of the bench. ‘And why kill the dog, the cat and the bloody fish?’ He sipped his beer. ‘You know he used to walk them together.’ He smiled.

‘The fish?’

‘The dog and the cat, pillock.’

‘I don’t get it,’ Ethan said. ‘The only danger from that toothless mutt was that he might have licked you to death. I’d be more worried about the cat.’ He stood his beer on the bench. ‘And why choose that location? Whoever it was could have tapped him while he was out for a walk. It feels more like a statement of some sort.’

‘Anything on video or from the lift logs?’

Ethan flexed his fingers in his holo-mits and began swiping items across the screens. ‘I’ve got the lift logs here… Hey Sof’, where are we with the video feeds?’

Helix juggled his beer bottle under control as the AI’s reply came over the sound system. ‘Still processing, Ethan. Estimated time to complete three minutes 28 seconds.’

‘What’s with the husky Spanish accent?’

‘Mexican. Sexy, huh?’

‘Whatever floats your boat. The lifts?’

Ethan thumbed open his tobacco tin and took out another joint. ‘Him and his cleaner today and that’s it. He collects any deliveries from the reception or has them sent up to his office but never his pad.’ He struck his lighter and took a long draw. ‘I can go back further but there’s nowhere to hide up there. Apart from the lift, it’s the stairs.’

‘Or the roof.’

‘Covered by the video, like the stairs, so if someone went up, Sofi will flush ‘em out.’

Helix drained the last of his beer and added the empty bottle to the growing detritus of empty food cartons, bottles and overflowing ashtrays. ‘Have you got anything to eat?’

Ethan pointed to the ceiling. ‘Pizza inbound. ETA three minutes.’

Stepping from the lift into the open plan living space, Helix paused. Apart from Ethan’s ‘enhancements’ it had hardly changed from the first time he came there. He ducked around the cargo net that Ethan had installed, claiming it was easier than bear-crawling up the glass and brushed titanium staircase. He ran his hand over the granite breakfast bar that divided the kitchen from the sitting and dining area. The same place where he’d endured coffee with that arrogant prick Justin Wheeler and, later that evening, enjoyed dinner and a glass of wine with Doctor Gabrielle Stepper DBE. That was after he’d placed her under house arrest on suspicion of murder. The allegation turned out to be spurious and once exonerated, she’d chosen a simpler life, away from the limelight. She’d earned it. What was she doing now, at this precise moment? Winters were harsher than they had been years ago. The seasons were more defined again, much to the joy of the remaining climate extremists. He shivered at the thought of her living under canvas or thatch. He’d spent enough time out in the elements. But it probably wasn’t as basic as he imagined.

‘I hope we don’t become strangers.’ That was what she’d written. He should have written back, but the postal system outside the cities was almost non-existent and she’d said she needed time and space. Ormandy’s remarks about getting to know her were true, but he wasn’t going to tell her any more than he had to. They had become close but as ever the mission took priority. What was the old saying? You should never meet your heroes. More bullshit. She was everything he’d imagined and more. In amongst the surprises there was something else, what some might call a chemistry. What the hell did he know? Relationships always came second. Anything that threatened to develop into something meaningful was scuppered by the call of duty. Avoidance was easier. No guilt, no disappointment, no ties.

He ran his hand over the back of his neck. Ethan was downstairs. The place was deserted, yet he had the sense that he was being watched. He listened. His eyes flicked around the apartment. An empty wine bottle and two glasses stood next to the kitchen sink. He arched an eyebrow. Wine wasn’t Ethan’s thing and when he drank anything in a bottle he didn’t complicate it by decanting it into a glass first.

He turned towards the patio doors as the outside lights came on. A delivery drone buzzed from the night sky, deposited the pizzas on the patio table and vanished back into the clouds.

6

Orange sparks floated skyward through the leafless trees on wisps of wood smoke from the embers of the firepit. Gabrielle pulled the roll neck of her homespun pullover up under her ears as she watched the sparks dance and dissolve into the starry firmament. A solitary cloud, carried on a westerly breeze, cast a moonlight shadow amongst the trees, over the thatch and shingle roofs and across the surface of the lazy River Wye.

Plumes of breath seeped between her fingers as she cupped her hands across her mouth and blew onto them. Refilling her lungs, she closed her eyes and relished the earthy freshness of the clean air. An owl hooted its greeting as Gabrielle’s twin sister SJ stepped up onto the wooden decking alongside her.

Gabrielle sighed. ‘I still can’t believe how quiet it is out here,’ she said, as they sat together on the top step looking over the shadowy ruins of Tintern Abbey.

‘I’d have thought you’d have got used to it by now.’ SJ laughed, draping a heavy patchwork quilt around their shoulders. ‘You’re not missing London, are you?’

Gabrielle nipped at her bottom lip. ‘I don’t miss the place, just some of the people.’

SJ nudged her playfully with her shoulder. ‘Anyone in particular?’

‘You take so much for granted in the city. Everything on a plate, at the touch of a screen or in response to a thought.’

‘It’s not impossible to send a letter. Even from out here.’

Gabrielle nodded. ‘I know. But you lot have kept me so busy since we arrived.’

‘Ha! So, it’s our fault then,’ SJ said, pulling