Redback. Lindy Cameron

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Redback - Lindy Cameron


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      'Okay,' Scott lifted his hands in surrender. 'I'm sorry.'

      'Hiro made me promise to meet you. I was to give you a message and you were to protect me if I needed, which I don't, by the way.' Kaisha's tears were now laced with anger, but she began counting points off on her fingers as she spoke.

      'I was to tell you, "The game has been altered. Check source". He said you were to take me to his brother's - but you can forget that Mr Dreher - and convince, um,' she squinted and then took a breath, 'convince "Harry Carter, dead stalks, and he will explain everything".'

      'What?' Scott frowned. The only thing that made any sense was 'the game has been altered' and he knew that already.

      Kaisha shrugged. 'Hiro, um,' she swallowed, 'Hiro said to make sure he - you, I mean - "understands the danger, and also the deception in the next acts".'

      'Deception in the next acts?' Scott rolled his eyes.

      'Ah no,' Kaisha shook her head. 'It was, "the deception in their next actions".'

      Like that makes it clearer! 'Is that all?'

      'No, he also said, "It has started". But I do not know whether that was meant for you, or that he knew he was nearly gone.'

      Kaisha wiped her eyes again. 'Me, I didn't understand anything; especially the birds.'

      'Birds? What birds?'

      'The dead storks.'

      Scott controlled an inappropriate smile. 'I kinda doubt he was talking about birds; or even deceased plants, which could be another interpretation.'

      Kaisha made a face like she didn't care either way.

      'He probably meant 'stalks' as in stalking, or stalker. You know, someone who's following you,' Scott said. 'Not that that makes any more sense. Unless he said death stalks, which it literally was at the time. But as a message it's just as stupid. Are you sure he…?'

      'You have Hiro's warning,' Kaisha interrupted. 'I am going now. And you should not stay here.'

      'Wait. Are you sure he wasn't just thanking you?'

      'What?'

      'You know 'Harry Carter' - arigato,' Scott suggested.

      Kaisha's expression told him, in no uncertain terms, that she found that to be quite absurd.

      'Well I'm sorry, Kaisha,' Scott said, 'but who the hell is Harry Carter?'

      'You don't know?' Kaisha asked.

      'No idea, obviously.'

      'Well me, I don't care,' Kaisha shrugged. 'Goodbye then Mr Dreher.'

      In the moment it took for Scott to register that their meeting was over, Kaisha had taken three steps into the street. She then, apparently, changed her mind and span around to face him.

      'We both should go,' she said urgently, 'through the back.'

      'What? Why?' Scott demanded.

      'Gaijin, no hair,' Kaisha stated, lifting her chin to indicate Scott should look behind her.

       Oh, a hairless gaijin indeed! How convenient.

      But there he was: a westerner, conveniently very big and bald, walking with a group of other tourists; and all, no doubt, innocently soaking up the nightlife.

      'Is it him? Have you seen him before?' Scott asked.

      'Maybe, maybe not. Not staying to find out.' Kaisha headed inside.

      Scott stood, as if to go after her, then hesitated. Oh man! Is this a set up or what? Sit Scott.

      He glanced at the tour group, which was still half a block away on the other side of the street. The bald guy was sort of looking their way, but not really; perhaps wondering if Kaisha was going to come out again, but more than likely not.

       Do not fall for it, Scott.

      He sat down again. For a moment.

      The bald foreign white guy gaijin left his 'companions' - without a word of farewell - and began weaving through the crowds towards him. The man was on a mission.

      Shit.

      Scott threw some money on the counter, and dashed through the long narrow noodle bar after Kaisha.

      Chapter Eight

      HMAS Harris, Pacific Ocean

       Tuesday 11.10 pm

      Gideon wondered whether shock had finally set in and rendered her package if not speechless then at least floundering for the usual chitchat. Not one to ruin a precious moment of silence, she turned to the small wall mirror so she could both watch her visitor, and give her short freshly washed hair a cursory brush.

      Jana fiddled with her own fingers, glanced around the tiny cabin, then finally asked, 'Um, who were you talking to?'

      'No one,' Gideon looked perplexed. 'Oh sorry, yes I was. We Redbacks are fitted with spanking new comm devices,' she said, tapping her collarbone.

      'Well I am; the others only have the aural gadgets so far. Mine is the whole aural-vocal catastrophe which, so far, is bloody annoying.'

      'Did you say fitted?' Jana asked.

      'Surgically implanted,' Gideon said. 'On, off,' she indicated by squeezing her left ear lobe.

      Jana shook her head. 'But you were all wearing microphones, I saw them.'

      'Yeah. The guys were still being fitted when we had to, ah, come and get you. So I have two-way comm with home; but until we get back to the lab, they can only hear the Link.'

      'Link?' Jana narrowed her eyes. 'Who or where?'

      'Not sure exactly.' Gideon pinched her left lobe. 'Link? You still at work, Oliver?'

      'Well, yeah. It's not like I take you home with me, Gideon,' said the voice inside. 'Why?'

      'Dr Rossi wanted to know. Out.' Gideon pinched her lobe again. 'Sydney,' she said, as if that answered everything.

      'So is it Oliver or Sidney or Link in your head?'

      'Um,' Gideon's bemused smile was little more than a quick pursing of the lips that lifted one corner of her mouth. 'Oliver is in Sydney,' she said.

      'During ops - operations - Oliver gets called Link, coz it's easier; and because the Link is not always Oliver. And you don't have clearance for the rest.'

      'Oh,' Jana said, none the wiser.

      'I can tell you,' Gideon continued, 'that on the next shift, the Link is a woman. And, that they swear it's only ever going to be one of two people.'

      Fascinating - not! Jana thought. Come on woman, ask her about the dead rebel. She stuck a hand in her pocket instead.

      Mistaking Dr Rossi's expression as a case of not getting her drift, Gideon did a rare thing - for her. She elaborated. 'I mean it wouldn't be productive to have us prototypes go stark-raving from a high rotation of strangers yakking away in our skulls.'

      Jana frowned and shook her head. 'Who are you?'

      Gideon simply raised her eyebrows.

      'I mean, who sent you? No, actually I do mean who are you? It seems you've told everyone,' Jana waved at the boat, 'something different. So, Ms Gideon, are you a commander, doctor, soldier, agent or what?'

      'Yes,' Gideon said, noting how much Dr Rossi used her hands when she spoke.

      'And a woman of few words, I see,' Jana commented.

      Hands, but not her arms though, Gideon was thinking. There was no Latin-style expansiveness in the woman's gestures. In fact she kept her upper arms close to her body, while both hands circled, or one waved thoughtfully or emphasised a point.

      As


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