Brendon tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair.
The headset was fully charged, on the coffee table in front of him, waiting. He sat in silence. Riley had called an hour ago that his alert had fired, and Grace just left The Sanctuary. Brendon had raced back from work and was waiting for Riley to call with further instructions.
He'd been mulling over what Riley had uncovered last week and he didn't know what to make of it. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, nor what he would say to Grace when he saw her. Why the fuck hadn't she been in touch?
His phone rang.
It was the Cyberdome messaging app.
"OK, she's in the coffee shop, I just went in to confirm, she's there on a table, far back wall right hand side as you walk in," said Riley. Brendon could see him on the screen of his phone. He'd had his usual Cyberdome makeover. Less fat, more hair, fewer lines. He was wearing sunglasses and from the angle of the phone he must have been sitting on a seat somewhere. He sipped coffee trying to look casual, "You all set? I'll drop you a pin where to meet, OK?"
"Yeah, I'm ready. I'll see you in a minute," Brendon ended the call and checked the pin notification that had just popped up.
Arlorn Park.
Looked like a bench on a grass verge, by the main pathway, a couple of hundred feet from the café. He put on his headset and signed in.
After the usual boot up screens, he opened his eyes and was standing next to the bench. Riley was looking in the opposite direction and hadn't noticed him.
The park was beautiful. Manicured lawns edged with low ornate fences. Cultivated flower beds with bright roses and lilies. Rows of sculpted trees segregated the park into neat sections. Around the edges were high rise buildings and skyscrapers. It was a large city park.
The patrons complimented the setting too. Everyone was elegant and refined. Some people were jogging in pairs or alone. Others did yoga on mats or on the grass. Mothers pushed babies in prams, while others walked beautifully groomed dogs. Each a perfect specimen of their breed. It was normally easy to spot "Non Player Characters" in Cyberdome. Filler people generated by the A.I. to fill dead spaces. They tended to be bland and characterless with set expressions. There was little sign of that among this crowd.
Brendon didn't look too out of place this time, either.
Since he'd upgraded his account, he was able to improve his wardrobe slightly. He now wore well-fitting jeans, trendy sneakers, a dark single-breasted mid-length coat and pale blue shirt. He'd even scored a pair of real Ray-Bans. He sat down next to Riley, "There seems to be a lot of Sentinels around," he observed, trying not to make it look like he was talking to him. Riley jolted and looked over his shoulder at Brendon. He then casually eased back into his original posture.
"Yeah, I'm thinking they might be picking up my tracking apps," he subtly showed the screen of his phone to Brendon. There was a map with a green dot and red dot on it with some complicated telemetry cycling underneath it. It must have been how Riley was tracking Grace, "I'm going to go for a walk and see if I can draw them away, then I'll stop tracking her," Brendon nodded, "She's in there, son. We'll catch up later," He then stood up and walked away. Brendon watched the Sentinels for a little while and could see no significant change in their movements.
He breathed deeply and set off towards the café.
The café was a one-story, stand-alone building at the junction of several different paths that converged out of different sections of the park. It had a tall green roof and rusty red bricks. Several tables and chairs were outside, each covered by large cream umbrellas. A few people were sitting by them eating toasted sandwiches and cakes. Around the sides, flower beds and plants camouflaged it with tall bushes and trees. It all looked inconspicuous.
A chalkboard sign stood outside, promoting homemade cakes, sandwiches and specialty teas, in swirly handwritten letters. It was the type of place Brendon and Grace would have made a beeline for after a weekend stroll in the park. Brendon took a beat to compose himself and then stepped inside.
The décor ran more artisanal inside.
A stripped wooden floor had random reclaimed tables and chairs arranged neatly on top of it. None of the furniture matched. On Brendon's left, by the door, was a pair of old red velvet theatre chairs. On his right, a long glass counter ran into the space. Inside were fresh sandwiches, quiches, big bowls of salads, patisserie and plastic cups of freshly pressed lemonade. Behind it, a pair of baristas worked a big traditional-looking coffee machine, pulling levers and steaming milk. "Yes please! Can I help you?" The lady behind the counter was talking to Brendon. She was young with short brown hair and looked fairly humourless. He'd better order something quickly.
"Erm, just a latte, please. Thanks."
"To have here or takeaway?" This was the question. Does he stay and confront her, or does he bail and run?
"I'll drink it here, thanks." He paid and waited by the pickup point. He was by himself.
He could see her on the other side of the room, to the right, like Riley had said. She was on a table with three others. Two women and one man. They were in deep conversation. One of the women was energetically waving her hands as she described something, everyone else smiling as they listened. Grace had her back to the wall, so she was facing him. She took a bite of cake. The blonde hair was starting to grow on him. It looked more brownish than it did in the pictures, less of a leap from her natural raven black hair. She was casually dressed, jeans and jumper, her usual style. She was laughing. Something that Brendon hadn't seen her do in a long time. She looked good.
How was he going to do this?
"Latte!" The lady behind the counter placed a green mug on the shelf. "Sugar and napkins over there." More customers were moving in behind him. In about thirty seconds he'd be in the way.
Brendon nodded his thanks and moved off. He stood awkwardly, not knowing which direction to go in. Should he get a table and try to catch her eye? The place was nearly full. He started to walk over towards her. She remained enthralled in the conversation. He began hovering by the table, behind the man of the group who sat opposite Grace.
"Grace." Too quiet. "Grace!" The storyteller stopped talking, everyone at the table spun round. Grace looked up, still smiling. He observed her, noting the change in her expression. As she processed what she was witnessing, the smile gradually faded from her face.
"Brendon…hi."
Her friends all looked at her waiting for an explanation. "This is a surprise. What, what… are you doing here?" She slowly stood up and put both her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Their eyes were back on Brendon.
"I just saw you here and just wanted to say hi," he said. Grace nodded, clearly still shocked.
"Erm, OK." She turned to the group. "Guys, this is…" Long pause as she looked for the words. "An old friend. Brendon." They all nodded and mumbled a greeting at him except for the man, who was doing his best to look at him over his shoulder. Brendon could feel his eyes burning a hole through him from his chair. Brendon ignored him and nodded back and smiled through his teeth at everyone else.
"Let's move over here," said Grace. "Excuse me, guys." She led him by the arm to the café entrance, by the vintage theatre chairs. She positioned the two of them out of the way of incoming customers and looked at Brendon, still holding his coffee. Her demeanour seemed friendly, like she was genuinely pleased to see him, but confused as to why he was there. They stared at each other for a while, until she broke the silence and repeated her question softly, "What are you doing here?" Brendon felt it a strange question.
"What do you think I'm doing here?" He said with incredulity on his face, looking straight at her. "I've been looking for you for the past year and a half." He paused and decided to place his coffee on top of the counter. He could feel himself getting worked up. No way was he going to get through this without spilling it.
"Where have you been? Where are you now? Why didn't you get in touch, let me know you're OK? You must have known I'd be going out of my fucking mind. I even hired a private investigator to find you, I mean what the fuck Grace! What are you doing here?" Grace was staring blankly past him, her arms crossed, and lips pulled in. She eventually spoke.
"I know I'm sorry, I was going to get in touch I was, but I…" She was touching her forehead looking down and shuffling her feet struggling to get the words out, "I just didn't want to be reminded of it all. It feels like a past life to me now." She was looking down, not able to meet his gaze, "I left because I could see you getting better, getting stronger, rebuilding your life." She was looking at him now. Tears forming in her eyes, "I knew I could never be like that. I didn't want to hold you back."
"All I want to do is help you Grace, to help you… us, move on…" She was shaking her head.
"I don't think so," she said. "You can't fix this one Brendon. I know you wanted to help me and I love you for it, but please believe me there is nothing you can do for me. I'm doing okay, better than I have in a long time. Please just leave me Brendon. Move on."
He looked up and took a beat.
He glanced over and caught her male friend, hanging over the back of his chair looking at them, talking on his phone.
"Where are you?" He asked. "Let's meet up for real, just for a coffee. Let me see you at least in the flesh. Where are you staying?"
"No," she said curtly. She composed herself somewhat and put a hand on his arm. Smiling through the tears, "I'm okay. I'm in a good place with people who are helping me. You don't need to worry, everything is fine." She rubbed his arm and began to walk back to the table, "When I'm ready I'll be in touch, I'm okay really." She walked back to her table. As she did the man got up and put his arm around her guiding her to her seat. Brendon just watched.
Thirty minutes later Grace and her group left the café together.
Grace was hunched over with her arms crossed. Watching her, looking so sad and dejected, broke his heart. She had a denim jacket on. Her male friend had his arm around her shoulders in a way that made him seem more than just a friend. Grace didn't seem to welcome his gesture of comfort.
Brendon shuffled around the tree to get a better view as they walked away. Her two female friends were walking ahead of them now. Brendon didn't know who these people were or if they were even real, but this hadn't been enough for him.
He was standing in a clump of trees on a stretch of grass around fifty feet from the café. He'd been too enamored with watching Grace that he failed to spot the two Sentinel bots approaching on both his flanks. They were moving slowly like they were looking for something. Both twitching strangely like they were smelling the air.
Brendon, now alerted to their presence, decided to move.
He stepped out of cover and walked over the small fence onto the concrete footpath and started pacing away from the bots. They continued twitching behind him. He didn't look back and just kept on walking. As he did, he didn't see them both freeze mid-step. They then simultaneously straightened themselves and slowly turned their heads in his direction.
Other people on the path, sensing things were about to turn, began to move away. A clear line of sight opened between the Sentinels and Brendon. They started to stroll slowly towards him, then shifted into a brisk walk, then a jog, and finally a full-on sprint straight at him.
Brendon, feeling the vibrations through his shoes and hearing the pounding of metallic feet, instinctively broke into a run. He looked over his shoulder to gauge how far away they were.
Twenty feet and closing fast.
Their run was mechanical and efficient. For every one of Brendon's strides they outputted two or three. There was no way he was going to outrun them.
He pulled at the jacket sleeve of his left arm.
He managed only a little bit of the way, but it wasn't enough to reveal his console. He decided to lose the coat and, still running, managed to pull it off. He threw it back at the advancing Sentinels, cloaking one in it briefly before it pulled it away.
He was now fiddling with the button on his shirt sleeve.
This was a nice dress shirt with one button on the cuff and one a quarter of the way down his arm. He'd undone the first, but he still couldn't pull it down enough. He could make out only half the console on his arm once he'd managed to maximize it. Now, he just needed to hit the logout button and he'd be out before the bots could get to him.
Suddenly his legs went from underneath him.
He fell hard on the concrete.
His elbow landed first, sending a shoulder-splitting shock through his upper arm. The sensation was that of a dislocation, but there was no pain. Now on the ground, one bot grabbed his left arm, rolling him over onto his back by it. The other, detangling itself from around his legs, moved to assist its colleague. He kept struggling, trying to press the button on his arm, but his other arm wouldn't comply.
Then one of the bots stood over his chest and grabbed him by the back of his head, pulling him off the ground with just one hand. With the other hand, it held its thumb and forefinger to his temple and fired some kind of electric charge through Brendon's head. For a split second he felt a spine-snapping spasm as the charge tensed his entire body.
Then everything went black and silent.
He woke up on a concrete bench of what looked like a police cell.
The walls were just painted white breeze blocks and the floor white paving stone. The ceiling was opaque lighting panels. The room had no windows and no doors. He slowly sat up and looked around. His right arm flopped down, unable to move. It looked shattered, but there was still no pain.
He felt around all four walls, with his one good arm, feeling for a switch or hidden button to trigger an opening and ease his creeping claustrophobia.
He couldn't find one.
Feeling panic begin to well inside him, he spun around.
Standing there, two inches from his face, was Victor Sinclair. He had his hands behind his back and was wearing a plain black, long-sleeve t-shirt and jeans. He stared blankly at Brendon.
Brendon jolted back.
Sinclair continued his gaze, then started speaking.
"User. You have violated one of the most important rules of Cyberdome," he paused, "To treat fellow members with respect, courtesy, and kindness." He was speaking in a steady monotone voice. Brendon waved his good hand in front of Sinclair's face. No reaction. This was a recording. "You will be quarantined here until your session time ends and then your account will be blocked from further use. You are no longer welcome in our community." Brendon looked down at his left arm and saw a countdown clock ticking on his console. Thirty-seven minutes. The exit button was faded out. When he looked back up, Sinclair was gone. Now alone in a concrete cell with no windows and doors, and with a busted shoulder, he decided to lie back down again and ride out the next thirty-seven minutes with his eyes closed.
He pondered how he'd ended up here. He wasn't running any illicit plugins that could have been detected and his behaviour hadn't been that unacceptable, he thought. Perhaps Grace's male friend had called in a complaint or something. Maybe he has clout.
Thirty-seven minutes later.
He pulled the VR headset off his head and took a breath. His shoulder throbbed but he could move it normally. He checked his phone that was lying on the coffee table. He had three missed calls from Riley.
"Hey Riley,"
"Hey son, how are you doing? Saw you get bundled. Pretty hard takedown. You OK?" Riley was in his office. His matte black VR headset resting on top of his head. Brendon could make out a couple of the demon eye stickers stuck around it.
"Yeah, I got quarantined for bad behaviour. I've been blocked. Don't really understand why."
"Hmm, something must have set them off. I've never seen them go after someone like that before. Did you talk to Grace?"
"Yeah," Brendon paused, gathering his thoughts. "She said she was OK but didn't tell me where she was or why she hadn't been in touch. She was with some people, and some guy. I don't know." He rubbed his forehead. "I don't know, something's not adding up. She told me to leave her alone."
"Yeah, I tailed her and her friends after they left. They went back to The Sanctuary. I lost them at the gate. I'll try to find out more about them and see if I can figure out a way in there. The amount of security that place has…they must be hiding something."
"OK," agreed Brendon.
"I'll let you know what I find," Riley hung up. Brendon sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.