Eric and the Quantum Dragon
Chapter 42

Comfort Hotel, The Docks, Port August

Friday December 28th, V26 (2046)

Byron Wilkes was not the sort of man to panic. He had been a go between for years in the Zone, buying and selling stolen data at a tidy profit. The people he dealt with were not honest nor upright citizens, so he knew how to look after himself.

Tonight however, he had taken a call that sent his heart racing in terror. The call had been from one of his Net Diver contacts, warning him Jacob Tan had disappeared and the Brackenridge company was looking for Byron.

Tan had sold him some very tasty chemical blueprints, the ones to manufacture Heightened Experience, or High Ex as the dealers liked to call it. Byron had sold the data files to the Brackenridge group, knowing they could make a lot of Pandas producing their own knock-off copy.

It had seemed like a good deal for all parties concerned. Byron had even made enough money from the transaction to consider retiring. Then the outbreaks of violence were reported, with High Ex quoted as the cause of the problem. He was smart enough to realise that if the Brackenridge’s were implicated in the situation, they would come looking for him.

They had a fearsome reputation in the criminal underworld and he cursed the day Jacob Tan had sold him those blueprints!

So he had gone to ground in Port August, staying out of sight until he could arrange a way out of the Zone. The crackdown on all travel in and out of the Zone had trapped him here, living in this dingy dockside hotel while he frantically bargained for a smuggler to get him away.

Byron had a place booked on a fishing trawler for early in the morning, one that would take him north as far as New Guinea. It was not ideal, but it got him out of the Zone and hopefully out of reach of the Brackenridge people.

He finished stuffing his few possessions in the hard plastic suitcase, one of those models with motorised wheels and a tiny robot brain so it could follow him all by itself. Byron forced the lid closed and laid the case on the floor. It beeped at him unhappily as he had crammed too many spare clothes and wads of Panda notes inside, telling him he was exceeding its carrying capacity.

With a muttered curse he threw out some spare shirts and pants, reasoning that with his stash of Pandas he could buy as many new clothes as he wanted! Once more on the stained carpet of the hotel room floor, his robotic suitcase waited for Byron to begin moving. It was programmed to follow one meter behind its master like a loyal dog but for now it sat there patiently, the little red sensor eye watching him alertly.

There was a knock on his hotel room door, startling him and making him swear out loud. Nervously he picked up a heavy calibre pistol from his bedside table and approached the door. It was a few minutes past midnight and he was not expecting a sailor from the fishing boat to come for him until around three AM.

“Mr Wilkes?” called out a woman’s voice. “Are you ready for the boat?”

Byron guessed the boat must be leaving earlier than planned. He was kind of surprised the sailor was a woman, but the Zone was an equal opportunity employer he reasoned. With a quick step he went to the door and undid the locks. It opened inwards and he gazed out at the woman waiting in the hotel corridor.

Monique Shaw looked back at him with her emotionless eyes, dark pits that seemed to suck away all the light.

Byron screamed and took an involuntary step backwards, tripping over his robot suitcase as it followed him to the door. As he flipped over the case, his right hand was flung upwards, the big pistol firing almost of its own volition as his finger tightened on the trigger.

The boom of the gun resounded like thunder in the small, dingy room and Miss Shaw was hurled backwards in a spray of blood. Byron crashed down onto the tacky carpet, the case beneath his back being driven painfully into his spine.

For a few seconds he lay there stunned, his ears still ringing from the accidental gunshot. His mind was gibbering in fear at the realisation that the Brackenridge maid had found him so quickly. Struggling off his suitcase, which was beeping and whistling in alarm, he managed to get onto his knees and look out of the open doorway.

A broad splash of dark red blood was painted on the far side of the corridor wall. He could see no sign of the Shaw woman, which worried him far more than if he was able to spot her body. Byron heard terrified whimpering close by, then clamped his jaw shut when he realised it was coming from his own mouth.

He stood up, cradling his pistol in one hand while he righted his complaining suitcase with the other. Walking on tiptoes, his gun leading the way, he approached the doorway and glanced up and down the corridor.

Other than the blood that decorated the opposite wall he couldn’t see any sign of the maid.

“Follow me” he whispered unnecessarily to his robot companion and stepped silently into the corridor. It was dimly lit, with cheap carpet on the floor and faded green paint on the walls. His room was on the first upper floor so he began walking slowly towards the elevator, checking to his rear every few steps.

“Where the hell is she?” he wondered then heard a soft thump on the carpet behind him. Byron turned to see Monique Shaw crouched on the floor, kneeling as if she had jumped. His eyes rose to the poorly lit ceiling and saw the bloody handprints where she had held herself up against the narrow corridor roof.

“That hurt” she scolded him and Byron felt his legs turn to jelly. A big, bloodied hole had been torn in the dark suit she was wearing, high on her left shoulder. Pale white bone peeked from beneath the tattered cloth and flesh, yet she moved easily as if it caused her no concern at all.

Numb with fear, Byron fired his pistol and the heavy weapon bucked in his hand, jarring his wrist. Noise filled the corridor and the flash from his gun blinded him for a moment. When his vision cleared, the woman was gone.

Sounds of other guests were filtering into his awareness, as the occupants of rooms on this floor reacted to his gunshots. It was time to go he knew and got ready to run.

“Missed me” Monique Shaw said from over his head. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and let out one last scream as she dropped onto him like some giant spider.

=====

Rosa Danton had been in the hotel for one night only and planned to leave as soon as it was daylight. She had little money left after running away from her violent husband, a factory worker at the Fish Packing plant. Her only thought had been to get away from him, hiding in this run-down hotel until she could think of somewhere to go.

The night had already been terrifying, the adjacent rooms occupied by couples arguing loudly or having drunken fights. It reminded her too much of the home she had escaped from and at dawn she was going to use her last few Pandas to catch the Metro rail to Spitfield.

She had an old school friend there, a woman her own age who always told Rosa she could stay with her if she ever left her awful husband. Then the gunshots had rung out in the corridor just outside her room.

Rosa was scared, yet she was a caring person at heart. If there was someone out there who needed help, she could not let them suffer alone. Bravely she opened her door and looked out into the corridor beyond.

A lingering acrid smell filled the narrow passage and she stepped out, calling softly for anyone who needed help. No human voice answered her and she saw no-one, but there was a lot blood splashed about. Gasping in horror, Rosa stepped back into the safety of her small room. Something beeped and followed her, nipping in before she could close the door.

It was one of those robotic suitcases and as she backed away from it in alarm, it beeped merrily at her and followed. She felt the wall of her room press against her spine as the little suitcase rolled after her, then stopped a precise one meter from her shaking legs.

“Um, you don’t belong to me” she insisted to the robot but it just beeped at her in an encouraging tone. “Shouldn’t you go look for your owner?” She went to her room door and gingerly opened, trying to shoo the suitcase back into the corridor.

It ignored her suggestion and rolled to the centre of the tiny floor and went into wait mode. Rosa heard gruff voices coming along the passage way, so she hurriedly shut her door and leaned against it. The robot watched her patiently with its one red eye, blinked twice then shut itself down completely.

Unsure what else to do, Rosa went to the case and lifted it onto her bed. She thought that maybe there might be some details inside as to who owned the unit and she could contact them. To her surprise the case was unlocked so she lifted the lid carefully.

Inside she saw a few shirts, a pair of men’s socks and bags of wadded Panda notes and coins. In fact the suitcase was nearly all money in a variety of denominations! She rummaged around but there was nothing else in there, no proof as to who the case and its contents belonged to.

Rosa sat on the bed, looking wistfully at the bags of cash filling the case. Even to her untrained eye, there had to be at least twenty or thirty thousand Pandas in there. Enough money to start a new life anywhere she wanted to.

A knock on the door startled her out of her reverie. She got off the bed and went to the door.

“Yes? Who is it?” she asked through the thin plastic door. Rosa leaned over and looked out through the peep-hole lens, seeing the hotel manager standing there.

“Just the manager, Ma’am” he replied. “Checking to make sure you are Okay”

She opened the door a crack and met the eyes of the elderly man. He had been very polite to her when she checked in earlier and even gave her a discounted rate for the room.

“What’s going on?” she asked him, blocking the view into her room with her body. “I thought I heard gunshots”

“Yeah, looks like the guest two rooms down must have had a run in with some gang people” the manager replied. “Sorry, but we can get a rough crowd in here some nights. Are you alright though?”

“I’m fine” she assured him. “So what happened to the guest?”

“Ah, he has disappeared from what I can tell” the manager said, scratching his sparse grey hair. “His room is empty but it looks like there was some fighting. Anyway, I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again. Haven’t got any contact details for him either”

“Oh, that is a shame” Rosa said. “Well, I had better try and get some sleep. Please let me know if there is anything I can do”

“No worries, Ma’am” he answered. “Coz of all the fuss, I’ll refund your charge for the room”

“Thank you, but there is no need for that” she said. “I appreciate your concern but I will be fine”.

She closed the door and locked it, then went and sat back on the bed. The bags of money lay there and she tentatively picked one up, feeling the comforting weight of the notes in her hand.

Rosa found her phone in her small carry bag and turned it on. She dialled a number in Spitfield and waited until it answered.

“Hey, Julia, it’s me” she announced when a sleepy woman’s voice mumbled hello. “Sorry to call at this time of night, but I wondered if that offer to come and stay with you was still open?”

“What? Of course it is Rosa” her friend told her. “Do you need me to send you some money so you can get here?”

Rosa looked at the suitcase and came to a decision.

“No, I can pay my own way there”

“Good!” Julia replied. “Let me know when you are getting in to Spitfield and I will come and meet you”

They chatted a little more then Rosa disconnected the call. She threw the spare shirts and socks into the trash bin and placed her meagre possessions from the carry bag into the robot suitcase.

Once it was re-packed she closed it up and set it on the floor. It re-activated itself and spun in a slow circle then fixed its red sensor eye on her. The case gave a cheery beep and settled in place once more.

“I guess you are mine now” she told it and she swore it beeped in confirmation. A smile crept over her face and she laid on the bed then switched off the light. The mattress was lumpy and had a big divot in the middle, yet she found she was able to drift off to sleep quiet easily after all.