#theprobabilityengine

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

015%

Whatever the warehouse had been originally it had been remodelled so extensively it could no longer serve its original purpose. As he’d noted previously, the entrance to the warehouse was the one corridor that ended in a T-junction, what David was just learning was that the branches of the junction weren’t that long, they turned again a couple of metres down creating what he could only assume were parallel corridors. Although maybe they did meet up somewhere towards the back of the warehouse.

At any rate, he knew that the right-hand corridor led to the loading bay he’d observed when they were scoping the place out. Since it appeared to see the most traffic security would probably tighter that way so they decided to head to the left first.

In the left-hand corridor was five doors, one on the left and three on the right with one more at the end. The door at the end had another electronic lock on it, at least this one seemed to not include a tumbler. The chances the same code they’d used to get in would were here was slim at best. So, left with four possible doors to choose from the question on both their minds was which did they try first?

“What do you think?” Kat whispered.

“I don’t know…” David considered the doors. He was about to try to puzzle out which door was the most suspicious when the doorknob of the second door on the right started moving.

Before David could even think to react Kat grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him into the nearest door. The first one on their right. Unsteady on his feet after being almost thrown into this room David staggered forwards and would have likely collapsed onto the floor if he hadn’t hit a shelf piled with boxes. While the shelf did rattle a little David’s weight wasn’t enough to cause anything to come falling down.

Letting out a relieved sigh David turned around. They were in a storage closet by the looks of it. It was a small 2x3m room which seemed even smaller with the large metal shelves lining the walls filled with unmarked boxes. The only illumination in the room was from a single, naked bulb that dangled from the ceiling. Kat was pressed up against the door. It was cracked open ever so slightly and she was listening intently to whatever was happening outside.

Moving up beside her David listened in too, however the voice was speaking a language he didn’t recognise. Perhaps it was Russian? Although it might have been Swedish or Polish as well for all he knew. When Kat glanced at him, her eyes asking if he could translate, David just shook his head in reply. They heard the voice grow fainter then there was a beeping sound, probably someone using electronic lock David had noted earlier, then the sound of a door opening and closing followed by silence.

They remained tense, wary that these people could come back at any time or a new group could show up. After a few minutes during which all was quiet they finally allowed themselves to relax. David drained from the ordeal, staggered backwards and sat down on an empty space in the shelves that lined the walls. “Bloody hell, this is exhausting,” he exclaimed.

“I know what you mean. I almost wish I was back watching that freaking lab. At least then I didn’t have to worry about being found,” Kat wiped the perspiration beading her forehead with her sleeve.

David took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Just give me a minute to catch my breath before we head back out…”

Kat nodded and then sighed, “Think they were the team sent to check on the kids?”

He shook his head, “Can’t tell. Even if they were, we have no idea if they were going to do it or coming back from… Still, once we’re done here we should probably take a quick peek and so what’s in there…”

Kat nodded then sat in silence for a while. Then, “I noticed something…” Kat said looking up at the ceiling.

“What?”

“There are no cameras here… like anywhere here not just this room,” she clarified.

David frowned. He hadn’t paid attention to that so he had to take her word for it. It made sense though, if they were caught on camera they should have been captured already. “Are they just lax with security? No… probably not. More likely whatever they do here or the people involved can’t be caught on camera.” His knowledge of computers and cameras were rather lacking, however David felt he knew enough to say that no system was entirely impenetrable. They were probably worried about whatever recordings they made being leaked. “Anyway let’s get going.”

The pair went back out into the corridor after making sure it was empty. Then following the plan, Kat went down to the next door and… flung it wide open.

“Idiot!” David hissed, shutting his eyes and preparing himself for the sound pf startled voices or sudden gunfire. However, nothing happened. In that case this wasn’t the enemies centre of operations…

Opening his eyes just a crack he saw Kat standing in the doorway. Judging from the crestfallen look on her face, the kidnapped children weren’t inside either. Elbowing her out of the way David stepped inside. The room was long and thin. One wall, the wall on his left was made almost entirely of darkened glass. Several control panels and computer screens were installed inside. “This seems like an observation room… One of these things might make the glass transparent.”

Struck with a sudden premonition he turned to Kat and ordered her, “Don’t touch anything!” Kat, who had been about to fiddle with one of the control panels complied, lowering her outstretched hand, an irate expression on her face.

Satisfied his warning had gotten across David went back to looking around the room. He didn’t know what anything in the room did so he wasn’t going to risk playing with any of the controls. There was a binder that seemed to have been tossed casually on top of one of them. Moving towards it he gingerly picked it up, taking care he didn’t accidentally hit anything. Then he retreated, taking a couple of steps back, before he opened the binder to read what was inside.

At the top of the page it read “SUBJECT 1” following that was a list of traits such as gender, age, height, weight and blood group. At the bottom of the page was written “0.3%” in a red pen.

“What is it?” Kat asked coming closer.

“It seems to be information on the test subjects and some kind of statistic… don’t know what for though.”

“Is it the kids?” she asked excitedly.

“This would go a lot faster if you didn’t interrupt me every two seconds, and no, this person was in their thirties.” Sulking silently at being berated, David continued reading, flipping through the pages at speed as he absorbed the information on each one.

None of the subjects appeared to be children for some reason… Subject 2 was in their thirties just like Subject 1. Subject 3 was seventy. Subject 4 twenty-six. The percentages on the bottom of each sheet bothered him. They changed with no apparent rhyme or reason but never went over 5%. He could find no correlation between the percentages and the information recorded on the sheets.

Eventually though he came across something pertinent to Kat’s investigation.

Subject 31. Male. 12.

“I found one,” he told her holding the binder out so she could see.

Kat frowned. “So there were 30 victims before the first child… Are the just grabbing anyone? Not just children?”

Flicking through the rest of the pages David filed everything he read away inside his head then closed his eyes. Processing the information. “No… By the looks of it they were at first but whatever results they wanted they weren’t getting. Then their 31st subject just happened to be a child and the results became substantially better.” The percentage at the bottom of Subject 31’s page had been 84% a huge increase from anything that had come before.

“From there they started narrowing their focus. By subject 54 they appeared to find an appropriate age range, children between 6 and for females 17 and for males 20. Then they’ve been continuing gathering data trying to find the next breakthrough to get the result they need.” The highest percentage written down had been 91.3%.

Kat gritted her teeth. “How many subjects?”

“82.” She let out a frustrated hiss at the answer. “Well there are 82 subjects written down in here but by the looks of it only 81 have been used in whatever experiment they’re running.”

Kat was seething. It was clear she wanted to smash something but she contained the impulse. “Let’s try the next room,” she snarled before stomping outside. David considered the binder in his hands one last time before placing it down and following his companion.

She was looking around trying to decide which door to open next. David poked her in the back and nodded towards the door last door on the right-hand wall. “That was an observation room, whatever they were observing happens through there. Probably.”

“Right.” Walking over to the door she opened it and she stopped moving again. Letting out a frustrated sigh, imagining he was going to have to go through this every single time they opened a door he strode past her and into the room.

Then he saw what was inside and he froze. He blinked. He shook his head. Then he stared.

“What in the…” David murmured, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

014%

The warehouse that Mars Company was based in was quite a distance away. David took a taxi cab to pick up Kat, and then pretty much had the driver go back the entire way and then some. When they arrived, David was down close to 50£. After paying the driver the pair had decided to scout the area. There was almost nothing around, the warehouse itself sat in a small valley created by the soft rises of hills all around it. There was a dirt road leading to a loading area that was locked up tight. Despite looking dilapidated and abandoned the numerous tire tracks in the dirt around the building showed that it was being regularly used.

“Think anyone’s home?” Kat asked.

“As soon as I unlock my latent psychic powers, I’ll let you know,” David replied, a hint of irritation in his voice.

“Are you in a bad mood?”

“Not at all. I love being covered in dirt.”

Just before they’d arrived, so they could approach the warehouse undetected Kat had pushed David into a ditch and kicked a thick cloud of dirt on him. She hadn’t done anything similar to herself, stating simply that since her clothes and skin were already stained by a layer of mud, dirt and unidentifiable stains it would be unnecessary.

After a couple of seconds Kat asked, “… Was that sarcasm?”

“Yes, it was!” David snapped at her.

“It’s just hard to tell. You don’t emote enough. It’s like usual you is this…” she pulled a serious, glum face. “…and grumpy you is this,” her face twitched but there was no noticeable difference between the two expressions.

His temper running thin David was about to retort when he noticed Kat’s expression. She was trying to appear jokey like normal but deep in her eyes was not quite fear… maybe it was apprehension. As usual the nuances of human expressions was foreign to him but he knew enough to realise that the girl was not herself.

He looked back at the warehouse. If their information was right, somewhere in there were the members of Kat’s band of waifs. As the man called Angel had attempted to point out, the chances of them all being alive at this point was slim. For all they knew this might just be a home for mercenaries and the kids were somewhere else entirely. The boy surmised that this uncertainty may be the cause for his companion’s odd mood.

“… Listen… Kat… I think we should talk about what we could-” David began saying trying his best to be tactful.

He was cut off though by the girl beside him though. “Don’t say another word. If you do I’ll break your legs and leave you here to rot.”

He gulped. While he doubted she would actually do it there was still a little voice warning him that she might. After all she had almost suffocated him.

“Fine…” he eventually said.

“Yeah. Fine.”

They stared silently at the warehouse for a while, David unsure of the protocol for moving a conversation along after what basically amounted to a death threat and Kat lost in her own musings. Eventually though he found the silence to be as suffocating as her arm on his throat so he asked meekly, “What now?”

“We break in,” Kat replied.

“Ah, right… How?”

“…”

Remembering the last time they’d had this conversation when sneaking into his Grandfather’s lab David warned her, “I don’t think walking through the front door and pretending to be a couple will work this time.”

“Shut up. I’m thinking.” He obeyed immediately.

This espionage stuff wasn’t his forte. Now that he thought of it, why had he come? He wasn’t athletic. He couldn’t fight. He wasn’t good at thinking on his feet. All he was good at was learning and analysing. Basically, wasn’t David being here a huge waste of time? Then again he did have something he wanted to investigate, something he couldn’t leave up to the girl beside him. Perhaps that selfish reason wasn’t enough for him to stay but that wouldn’t stop him. Not where daddy dearest was involved…

“Alright. I have an idea!” Kat declared suddenly. “We will sneak down and go in through the front door.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “… I think this just the couple plan again? Or, what? We’re going to be door to warehouse door salesmen this time.”

“We’ll sneak in.”

“And they will shoot us or capture us or maybe both. On second thoughts I think this is even worse than the couple plan. At least it didn’t end with our brain matter splattered across a warehouse wall.”

“It will work. They won’t be expecting people to just walk in through the front door,” Kat nodded sagely.

“Whatever happened to sneaking?” David let out another sigh. A common saying was that when you sighed you chased away your happiness. If so David had probably chased his off the planet by now. “Just a reminder, if they do expect people to ‘just walk in through the front door’ we’ll be dead in a second.”

Kat froze. After further thought she replied, “Well do you have a better idea?”

It was David’s turn to freeze. He didn’t have a better idea. In fact he had no idea. Even if he tried to formulate an idea now it probably would make about as much sense as going in through the front door. Picturing his inevitable death, he agreed by saying, “Objection retracted.”

They waited for a little more and then on Kat’s queue they stood up and ran down the hill. While she was quick and lithe keeping close to the ground like a predator, David couldn’t have been called stealthy, bumbling forwards with all the grace of drugged giraffe.

When they reached the door Kat began examining it while David knelt down trying to get air into his lungs. He hadn’t run more than twenty metres but that had been enough to make him short of breath. “I really… need to… exercise more…”

“I’ll say. What part of that was supposed to be stealthy?” Kat muttered as she pulled a pair of bobby pins out of her coat and began picking the door’s lock. After a few seconds, she cursed. “Damn it! What the hell!?”

“What’s the problem?” David asked.

She pointed at the lock on the door. Rather than the traditional pin tumbler lock, it was a combination electronic and pin tumbler lock. There was a digital display with room to input four numbers, below that a keypad and finally at the bottom the keyway. Unlike the rest of the building this lock was shiny and new.

“Making it one or the other would be too bloody easy wouldn’t it,” she spat. She stepped back from the door a bit. Then she spun on her heel and kicked out, delivering a solid blow to the door.

David figuratively leapt out of his skin. “Are you out of your mind!” he hissed. “What happened to stealthy?” Kat wasn’t listening to him though, she walked off grumbling and swearing. He called out after her, “Hey, where are you going?”

“To find another entrance!” she shouted back.

Holding in the sigh trying to escape him, David turned back to face the door. From the way she was acting, clearly just picking the pin tumbler lock wasn’t going to get the job done. They’d need to crack the keycode to get in. Something was off though…

Confirming that the digital display was off, David reached forward and gave the keypad a poke. However nothing happened. “Hmm…” He shut his eyes. According to his grandfather the only problems that didn’t have a solution were ones designed to trick people. Assuming this lock wasn’t a trick then there had to be a way to open it. “If you can’t solve a problem think about it in reverse. Look at your facts. Collect assumptions. Analyse then theorise. That’s the trick to solving any problem,” he said quoting his grandfather.  

‘Problem: Keeping people out of a facility,’ David thought, his brain running into high gear.

“Facts: Combination electronic and tumbler lock. Tumbler lock will not turn. Keypad unresponsive.”

‘Assumptions: Electronic look is working as intended. Electronic and tumbler lock linked in some manner. Kat can actually pick locks.’

“Possibility: Scans fingerprints?”

‘Viability... improbable. There is no sign some kind of scanner.’

“Possibility: The digital display lights up when the correct code has been entered.”

‘Viability… implausible. Ease of use poor.’

“Possibility: Electronic lock is not receiving power.”

‘Viability… high. Problem: How is the lock supplied power?’

“… The key.”

‘… Most likely answer.’

“Therefore…”

“What are you doing?” asked Kat. David leapt to attention. He’d been focusing so much he hadn’t noticed her approaching.

Clearing his throat, he said, “I, uh… Think I know how the lock works. Basically, unlocking the door is a three-step process. Step 1: You insert the key. This completes a circuit supplying power to the electronic lock. Step 2: Without removing the key, enter the correct code. This will deactivate some kind of mechanism preventing the key from being turned. Step 3: Turn the key, unlocking the door and entering.”

Kat nodded, listening to his explanation. When he finished she asked, “So? What’s the code?”

“I’m still figuring that out. Give me a minute…”

He turned back to the lock and focused on the keypad. This electronic lock was laid out like mobile phone number pad with 1 in the top left corner, 9 at the bottom right and below 9 in a row all its own, the number 0. As he’d noted before the digital screen only had room for four digits.

Locks like these were essentially a math problem. You have four slots, each slot must be filled with a number and in total you have ten numbers, it was possible for numbers to be repeated. If each space can be filled with one of ten numbers, then there were 10x10x10x10 or 10,000 possible combination of numbers. Since there was only one correct answer your odds of getting the combination right is 1/10000.

One solution to the problem would be to brute force it, entering every possible combination until he hit the right answer. If he was unlucky though the last combination, he tried would be the correct one meaning he’d have to enter all 10,000 combinations. That would clearly take too long. So, he had to narrow down his choices.

The easiest way to do that would be wear. The oils in a person’s finger would polish buttons when they were pressed, the more the button was pressed or the earlier it was in the combination the shinier the button would be. Due to the lock being new it was hard to tell unless you were looking closely but the 2 was the slightest bit shinier then the rest of the buttons. The code probably started with 2. That was about all he could discern examining the lock. At least he’d narrowed down his choices considerably, from 10,000 to 1,000.

Next, people usually used easily remembered numbers for their passwords. He had to hope his father had set the code on the lock and not anyone else. What were the easiest four digit numbers to remember? PIN codes, post codes and dates, a memorable or important one.

“Important dates…” David muttered. Fortunately, there were not many important dates his father may have used as a code that began with 2. In fact he could only think of three.

He grit his teeth as he started to get a headache. He wasn’t thinking that hard was he or was this just his chronic headache choosing now to flare up? He hadn’t thought to bring his headache tablets with him today so he had to push through it.

Three dates. Which was the most likely? Two of them he was sure he could write off; they were the day he was born and the day his mother died.

He flinched at the sudden lance of pain that went through him. This headache was one of the worst he’d had…

“He wouldn’t use those,” David said. To his father both those days were probably the last thing he wanted to think about it. That left only one more option.

“I have the code,” he declared. “We can unlock it now.”

“I’m doubtful but fine, let’s give it a whirl. Taking out her pins again she set to work on the lock. When the digital display lit up David leaned over her and entered 2-4-0-9 on the keypad. The digital display flashed green and Kat turned the lock and opened the door.

Pushing down the pain he moved to enter the final date, the day his mother was born. 2-4-0-9.

Kat stood up dusted herself off. Then, overflowing with pride she said, “Wow, I’m a genius. I knew there was a reason I brought you along.”

“Just get in would you,” David growled. By this point he knew better then to take her seriously. Kat shrugged and cautiously pushed the door open, slipping through it when she could just fit through. David followed close behind her.

Inside was a long empty corridor, it wasn’t just long though but also wide. The nearly 190cm tall boy estimated it would take him six steps to get from one side of the corridor to the other. The floor was a solid concrete slab while the roof, also concrete was domed joining seamlessly with the walls, he felt like he was standing in a concrete half-cylinder. Along the walls every couple of paces were metal beams, acting as buttresses. Apart from that though the corridor was empty.

Kat had already gone ahead, she was standing near the end of the corridor. She appeared to be peeking furtively around a corner. Although from David’s perspective it just looked like she was pressed up against the wall admiring the other end of the half-cylinder. As David was about to call out and ask her what she saw, she hurried back a terrified look on her face.

“No questions. Wrap this around yourself and then hide,” she ordered throwing her coat at him.

“Why? What’s-”  David started to say but Kat snapped at him.

“Shut up and get in that corner!” she pointed at the darkest spot in the corridor, the corner beside the door that just entered through.

Before he could attempt to ask her anything else Kat ran over to one of the buttresses and began climbing it. When she was hanging from the ceiling she pulled herself over and lay flat in the lip of the metal beam. If someone was walking down the corridor towards the exist as long as they didn’t look back she’d be invisible.

Realising with a start what was going on David ran to the corner Kat had indicated. Curling up and making himself as small as possible he wrapped the coat around himself, hoping it would work as camouflage. His heart was thudding in his ears and he thought his breathing was loud. When he heard the sound of people talking both those noises disappeared.

Whoever was coming, they were wearing heavy boots, the thudding as their soles hit the floor replacing the sound of David’s frozen heart. There appeared to be two people talking but they weren’t speaking English. In fact they were speaking different languages. The two speakers were male but despite hearing two voices speaking and two sets of footsteps only one of the people talking was actually there. The one there was talking in French which David knew pretty well. The other, which appeared to be emanating from some kind of walkie talkie spoke in German. David only knew bits and pieces of German but he could tell that the two people speaking different languages understood each other.

The two voices got closer and pushing down the fear that he would hear shouts of alarm or feel a hand coming down on his shoulder, he listened intently to the conversation. He translated what he could and made educated guesses to the bits he couldn’t understand. Before he knew it the voices were coming from right beside him.

Then the door was opened, light from outside spilled in but hidden behind the now open doorway it didn’t illuminate David. The two people went outside and the door swung shut.

David remained frozen for a while but when he heard the soft thump of Kat dropping to the ground he let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and his heart began beating again. He stood up and turned to Kat. Without her bulky coat on she looked a lot slimmer. He could see her small chest rising and falling, the exertion of climbing the buttress had left her short of breath.

David took off her coat and handed it to her. Whipping it back on she smiled. Not a friendly smile but the feral smile of a cat that had found its prey. “Well we’re in the right place. I recognised one of them, he was the guy I kicked in the nuts back when they tried to take me.” He decided to ignore the note of satisfaction in her voice as she remembered that event. “Man, though, I can’t tell if we were lucky or unlucky. If we’d been out there even one more minute those guys would have run right into us.”

“It wasn’t luck, they wouldn’t have come,” David corrected her absentmindedly still busy translating what he’d heard in his head.

“Huh?”

“By the sounds of it there was some kind of device on the door that alerts a control room whenever the door is opened. Since the door opened those to came to investigate who had entered.”

Coming back to himself David noticed Kat staring at him in shock, “You understood that?”

David gave a noncommittal grunt. “I understood the French pretty well but the German was a lot of guesswork.”

“What did they say?” Kat demanded.

David closed his eyes and replayed the conversation in his head before translating, “The one who was actually here was saying… That he couldn’t see anyone. Then… the one on the radio, the one speaking German said… It might have been break out not a break in. The French one questioned if it was possible for the guineas to break out, but he said that they… what did they call themselves… Right, Charlie Team. They said they would go outside and look for any signs of the runaway. Then the German guy said, he’d send another group to check if… the rats were still in their cages?”

A hopeful light glimmered in Kat’s eyes. “You don’t mean…”

David nodded, “I think your family might be here.”

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

013% Part: 1

Sitting on his own, David sipped a cup of tea in a small café near his university. Classes had ended for the year but he didn’t really have anything else to do so he tended to end up in or around the university on his holidays anyway.

It had been four days since he’d ‘infiltrated’ his grandfather’s lab. He hadn’t seen Kat since they parted ways near the Royal Bleeders pub, him informing her of Brenton’s decision to look for some information and her promising that if she heard anything she’d get in touch.

Things hadn’t changed much for him which was a bit disappointing. In stories whenever someone became embroiled in these sorts of conspiracies they tended to be involved in dramatic events one after the other. Then again that was probably the difference between a narrative and real life.

One thing was noticeably different about him though. Before, David had not much cared for what was happening in the world. His only source for news was what he overheard people saying or what he talked about with Chloe or his grandfather. Now though he had taken to purchasing a newspaper every day and reading it cover to cover looking for anything that might relate to Mars Company or the missing children.

There had been nothing so far. In fact most of the paper was talking about Christmas. It was only three short days away…

“Speaking of I don’t have any presents for people,” he muttered. His grandfather was pretty easy, he’d be happy with any trinket that he could fiddle with, he didn’t know Kat well enough that he felt he had to get her anything but there was Chloe to consider. Getting her a box of chocolates or something was an option but it seemed so… impersonal. It was the sort of thing a distant cousin or something might do.

“Still, I don’t know what she might want…”

Going back to his newspaper he continued reading flipping through the pages until he came across something in the entertainment section.

 Regent Street, one of the shopping hotspots in London, even during the day the Christmas decorations on display were garishly bright and gaudy to David’s eyes. Normally he stayed away from anywhere that attracted crowds but he was on a mission today.

In the paper there was a small ad “Hot new artist: CRYSTAL SKY signing autographs opposite the Apple Store on Regent Street from 10:00 to 12:00 today only!”

David still remembered the way Chloe had lit up when talking about the artist. Also because of him she had left the concert she’d been looking forward to. So, plagued with a vague feeling of guilt, David set out braving the freezing temperatures and the Christmas crowds.

Although when he arrived he instantly felt any enthusiasm he had for the task draining away.

“……” With a tired expression David took in the sight of the line. A queue had been formed to get an autograph from this Crystal Sky lady, a quick calculation told him that there had to be at least 200 people all standing in line. And given how people tended to use talking to their friends as in excuse to cut in line that number would probably swell as more people turned up.

‘I want to go home…’ David thought. However swallowing those thoughts he went and stood at the back of the line. The signing was supposed to be from 10 to 12. He had been a bit late to arrive and it was already 10:58 am. Assuming that the signing had started and that the artist they were all there to see wasn’t also running late, in order for him to get a signature the line had to move at a rate of at least three every minute.

That was an estimate using the best circumstances though… It was assuming no one else jumped into line. Also because he had never been to an event like this before he wasn’t sure what the protocol was. Did you step forward, get something signed and then carry on or could you shake hands with the performer and say a couple of things before you had to continue? The longer he thought about it the more hopeless it all seemed. Although perhaps that was because he was busy analysing the situation, if he stopped thinking about it perhaps this whole ordeal would be finished with before he knew it. If only there was something else for him to do… Switching off his brain was a near impossible task.

“Is that you, love?”

Someone was already trying to cut in line it sounded like. “Great,” he drawled. It hadn’t even been thirty seconds since he’d stood in line. Assuming cut ins would continue at this pace then in order for him to get to the front of the line it would take a turnover rate of six people a second.

“It is, isn’t it?”

Looking for something else to concentrate on he found himself thinking about Kat. What exactly did she do for Christmas? She would obviously be spending time with her “family,” but when your family was a bunch of homeless and runaway kids, what exactly did that entail? Hell, perhaps they didn’t celebrate Christmas at all.

“Are you ignoring me, love?”

David didn’t do much for Christmas, he tended to get together with his grandfather and sister Christmas Eve and exchange presents with them then, mainly because Christmas Chloe and Eoin would be having lunch with his father.

“Oi!”

While he wasn’t uninvited to Christmas luncheon, the thought of eating a meal while his sister and grandfather tried to make small talk as his father ignored his existence made his stomach sour. He much preferred the current arrangement. Spending Christmas day alone might have been lonely but it was a hell of a lot better compared to the alternative.

“Quit… IGNORING ME!”

“Guh!” David staggered as he received a sharp blow to the stomach. Turning to get a look at whoever it was that had just assaulted him he saw a familiar face, apparently that annoying person who had been shouting stuff had been talking to him. “D-Don’t call me ‘love.’”

“I’ll call ya whatever I want ya bloody muppet,” Bluebird said, hands on her hips.

“…” David was too busy picturing Miss Piggy caked in fresh blood to respond right away. It was a rather disconcerting image all told.

“Kids these days… So rude!” Bluebird huffed. “Plus what’s with that lame reaction? Your reactions lacking a bit a pizazz, boyo. Be more like… ‘Uh!’ or… ‘Wha!?” or… ‘Hah!’” She mimed a variety of over the top reactions while David looked on dumbfounded. Although as she continued doing gradually more ridiculous reactions that quickly transformed into irritation.

That irritation quickly gave away to worry though. Why was someone like Bluebird at an event like this? While there was nothing wrong with her liking music or this particular artist, David just didn’t imagine it meshing with her punk aesthetic. Even today the blue-haired woman was wearing tight leather pants, a belt with a cross and myriad chains hanging off of it, and long sleeve white shirt with… a corset over it?

‘No. The most reasonable explanation here is that it’s to deliver a message,’ he decided. Why she was doing an inane pantomime routine when she should be delivering said message, well, he had no choice but to put it down to a personality quirk.

“Why are you here? Has something happened with Kat? Did you find out something about the company? Why are you here?” he asked rapid fire.

Bluebird held up her hands in an attempt to defend herself against the onslaught of questions. “Woah, woah, woah! Settle petal! I ain’t going to answer if ya keep that up.”

He waited for her to reply while biting down the rising impatience that was flowing through him. He really found this woman difficult to deal with.

Bluebird scratched her head, fingers running through her blue hair. “Well…” she muttered. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here, eh? Too many ears,” she added glaring at the people around them who were suddenly going out of their way to show they weren’t listening in.

They had been drawing a fair amount of attention from the people around them. Normally under the unfriendly eyes of so many people David would have shrivelled up. He had been so busy thinking about what could be happening with Kat and the missing children that the onlookers may as well have been cardboard cut-outs.

“…” While he considered Bluebirds offer to relocate he couldn’t immediately agree. A conspiracy shouldn’t necessitate him putting his life on hold. Christmas would arrive and he’d need a present for Chloe and who knew if he was going to get another chance at Crystal Sky’s autograph.

Besides if you considered it objectively, these events had nothing to with him. The people disappearing weren’t his family or friends. The laboratory his grandfather ran was only tangentially involved and the driving force behind his desire to investigate was a vague hope that his father was behind this.

All things considered… Deciding upon his answer David replied, “Unfortunately… I need to stay here. My sister is a huge fan and I-”

“…need an autograph?” Bluebird asked finishing his sentence. Not waiting for an answer she continued, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, love. I can get you one of them easy.”

“Huh?” David stared at her dumbly.

“Didn’t I say? I’m actin’ as security for the little miss,” the woman said, proudly puffing out her chest.

 Apparently Crystal Sky, real name Luanne Sky, was Brenton’s wife’s niece or as Bluebird said, “…his niece-in-law.” While the young singer was doing a tour in England, Brenton’s wife, a woman called Kate, had asked her husband to have his toughs guard her during her public appearances. Mrs. Perchensky was overprotective of her beloved niece at least that was what he was told.

The adage, “It���s a small world,” didn’t come close to expressing David’s feelings. First the lab his grandfather worked for was connected with a group kidnapping kids some of whom worked with or for a gang called the Royal Bleeders and now, by some crazy coincidence the singer his sister was obsessed with was the niece-in-law of the leader of that gang?

Although at least this did answer a question that had been bugging him, namely, ‘How had Kat entered the live house that night?’ If the Royal Bleeders had been working security she probably just asked to be let in and they said, “Yes.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bluebird said when the subject was brought up, “I wasn’t there that night but I heard the story from Mobo. He had apparently stepped outside because some band called Dead Mouse Train or something was giving him a migraine and he ran into Kat trying to sneak in round the back. But you were there, huh? Pretty crazy coincidence, right love?”

“At this point I’d call it an inevitable occurrence,” he said bitterly.

“Or~r,” she said stretching out the word, “it could be fate. Coo! Coo! Kat and David sitting in a tree-”

David chose to delete the next dozen or so seconds from his memory.

A marquee had been set up on the street; sitting in front of it was Crystal Sky and guarding her was another familiar face. The singer looked slightly curious as Bluebird approached and whispered to Mobo, “Gotta discuss some stuff, big guy, so hold down the fort for me.”

“…Don’t like this…” he murmured glowering at the crowd waiting for the singer’s signature. Bluebird just patted him on the back as she ducked into the marquee. David briefly nodded his head to Mobo and followed the woman. As he did he glanced out at the crowd. Compared to the back of the line the front of the line was much more subdued. Though considering they were under the glare of Mobo it was probably inevitable.

Even David, supported by the knowledge that Mobo was anxious around strangers, couldn’t bring himself to meet the man’s eyes.

As the flap closed he caught the sight of Crystal Sky watching him with a slight frown on her face. He hadn’t paid much attention to her but he was struck by the vivid golden colour of her irises in the second before she disappeared from view.

“Wanna drink?” Bluebird called. Turning around there were a number of chairs in the marquee and a tea station set up in one corner. Bluebird was pouring something from a thermos into a mug. It clearly wasn’t tea but it did steam when exposed to the air. Coffee perhaps? Although it looked more red then brown…

“No, more importantly-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. No one likes impatient men, you hear?” She said waving him away. She set down the thermos and walked over to a chair, collapsing in it she let out a happy sigh as she stretched her legs. David could only watch, steadily getting more irate as she blew the steam off the cup and take a long sip.

When she finally lowered the cup and turned to him she asked, “So what did ya want to ask, love?”

“Has something happened to Kat? I haven’t heard from her in days. What about Mars Company? Did you guys end up discovering anything?”

“Haven’t seen hide or hair of our little kitten since she ran out of Boss’s office last week,” she told him. David nodded awkwardly. It was pretty hard to forget, Kat smashing a phone, tossing a table and storming out of the room tears in her eyes. “As for the other thing…” Bluebird continued.  “What’s a Marsh Company?”

“Mars,” David corrected automatically. Although it made sense she wasn’t aware of what Mars Company was now that he thought about it. Brenton had said that the Royal Bleeders would not get involved, he would ask around with some acquaintances but that would be the extent of his help.

Sure, when he’d first run into her, he had assumed she had approached him to deliver a message but her working here as security was a coincidence and being a friendly sort she stopped an acquaintance she noticed to say hi. It may not be how David operated his life but it certainly seemed to fit her character.

He relaxed, now that he realised that all his worrying had been for nothing. It was a coincidence… right?

He remembered his words just a minute ago. ‘“…an inevitable occurrence.”’

Two ringtones started playing.

One of them was David’s. Judging from the way she had started fishing around in her pocket the other must have belonged to Bluebird. Pulling out his phone he checked the caller ID. It was an unknown number.

Bluebird had already answered her phone but David hesitated to answer for a few seconds. An inevitable occurrence… Everything was falling into place, building to something he couldn’t see. He felt like he was standing on a precipice. One more step and he would no longer be able to go back. If he didn’t answer this call everything would go back to normal. If he did answer something would change. Something would start.

He pressed the answer button.

“Hello?”

“Ah, hello. Am I speaking to David Parker?”

“Yes…” he answered cautiously. The voice sounded familiar but he couldn’t really place it…

“This is Brenton. Kat gave me your number.” That was it. It had been hard to tell over the phone but that was the voice of the Bleeder’s leader. He had given Kat his home address and his mobile number when they parted so she could contact him and it seems she’d passed it on to Brenton. “I’ve already spoken to her and I imagine she’ll contact you shortly, but I thought I’d tell you the results of the investigation.”

David swallowed, he wasn’t sure if he was anxious or excited but he had been right. This was the moment everything would change for him. He could feel it. He listened with bated breath.

“We found a warehouse Mars Company is operating out of. Kat has the address so ask her for the details. Also as for who hired them, the only contracts they currently have are with your grandfather’s lab and with someone called ‘Engine.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

“…No I don’t think so,” David replied. He hadn’t even heard the name Engine before. Although… he felt like there was something he should remember. He ran through everything in his mind related to the word ‘engine,’ but came up blank. The more he thought though the more that feeling he was forgetting something important plagued him. Trying to put the matter from his mind he asked, “By the way do you know who owns the warehouse?”

“Eh? Umm… I think it was… a P. Blunt. Why do you ask?”

…

A grin split across his face, a cruel sadistic grin. “Thanks for your time.”

“Eh? Hey wa-”

David hung up. His hands were shaking. This was it… Anger coursed through him, not just the usual black tar that surfaced when he thought of his father but a new red hot anger that burned the pit of his stomach. P. Blunt could only be Patricia Blunt. That bastard was using his mother’s name for whatever this crap was. “He… He, he, he, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!”

David laughed. He could finally take down that man.

Realising he was being unseemly he calmed his emotions as quickly as he’d lost control of them. Still, this was truly fortuitous. All he’d ever needed was an excuse and this whole affair had given it to him. He would do whatever it took to find evidence that his father was behind this. Irrefutable, undeniable evidence and he would destroy that man’s entire life.

He was being vindictive and petty but he didn’t care.

All he wanted was to hurt that man. To make him finally acknowledge that David was there.

“So that was Kat just now,” Bluebird said, snapping David back to the present. “She wanted me to pick both of you up. Well she asked me to pick her up, I assumed you would have joined in at some point though. Only problem is…”

Bluebird glanced down at her cup.

“Honestly not sure if I should be out driving after drinking this…”

‘What the hell is in that cup?’ David thought. Out loud he replied, “It’s fine. I’ll take a taxi.” Then he stopped as he remembered why he was there. Chloe…

Destroying Michael Blunt was what he had wanted to do for so long but… If he ignored Chloe to pursue this wouldn’t that make him just as evil as his father? What was more important, his revenge or maintaining his good relationship with his sister?

Noticing the conflict going on in David’s mind, Bluebird said, “Don’t worry, love. I’ll get ya an autograph, cross my heart. Actually why don’t you just bring your sis on down to the Swan’s Head, Christmas Eve. All the Bleeders’ll be havin’ a year end party. Lil’ Luanne’ll be there and if ya ask nicely she might even sing ya a song or two. Way better than a dumb ol’ autograph, right? Am I smart or wot!”

David smiled at her and said, “That would be wonderful, I can’t thank you enough for the offer.”

“Woah! Would you look at that? You’re actually pretty cute when you smile,” at those words David’s smile dried up. “Ah, back to your old sourpuss face, huh? Well, be seeing you, David.”

“Yeah.” David turned to leave. He got about three steps before he turned back a frown on his face. He wasn’t sure but… Had she just called him David? “Maybe I imagined it…” he said to himself.

More importantly it was time for him to move against his father and time for Kat to find her family. Was the cat alive or dead? It was time to open the box.

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

008% - Second Half

He was rather handsome, dark green eyes, well defined cheekbones and a rather narrow jaw. There were a number of small scars on the back of his right hand which was holding the phone against his ear. The sleeve on his left arm was rolled up and he appeared to have a tattoo on it, a geometric pattern that started at his forearm and disappeared under the sleeve of his shirt. Apart from that though the man was rather… ordinary. He didn’t have a wild look like Bluebird or the feral ferocity Kat possessed nor the sheer intimidating aura of the colossus that had brought them up.

He was just a guy.

A guy you might see hanging around a pub cheering on some football team or other, downing a pint or two with his mates.

‘Yeah… Yeah… Sure. Just make sure you’re ready to move when we are… Fine… See you then…’ With a sigh he dropped the phone into its cradle and rubbed his temples. ‘Jesus Christ, you can’t get anything done right in this country…’

Then like a switch flipping a huge smiled appeared on his face and strode over his arms open wide, ‘Kat! Good to see you again!’ Kat let out a dissatisfied noise but let herself be pulled into the hug. ‘Feels like I haven’t seen you in years!’

‘It’s been less than a month…’ Kat complained, worming her way out from the embrace.

The man laughed and patted her on the head. ‘Still, you come in, ask if I can set you up with a house near some lab then I don’t hear from you for a month? Can you blame me for worrying, eh?’

He definitely had a “big” personality. Overbearing might have been a more accurate description. Still he seemed like a rather affable gentlemen, he was so affable in fact that David felt he had to remind himself that this man was actually the leader of a criminal organisation.

‘Still, what brings you in today? Need a job? Cause I’m actually at my wits end trying to move some product through Manchester…’

Kat interrupted him quickly, ‘No, I’m here today to ask for another favour.’ She glanced at David. ‘Well actually… we are.’

The man appeared to notice David for the first time. He made a strange humming noise and then said, ‘Ah, I see how it is… Eloping are we?’ If he’d had a mouth full of something that would have been the perfect time for David to perform a spit take. ‘Need someone to give you away maybe? You be happy together. If you hurt Kat I’ll kill you, boy!’

Kat elbowed the man in the stomach and hissed, ‘I’d rather die than marry this… this ponce.’

‘I wholeheartedly agree. Entering into a relationship with someone as volatile as her would be far more trouble than it’s worth,’ he concurred. ‘Also I object to being called a ponce.’

Ignoring his objection Kat bristled with rage and shouted, ‘Volatile?!’ Kat’s poisonous look switched targets pretty quickly.

‘That was… perhaps a poor choice of words…’ David murmured weakly. Though he did consider it an accurate description.

The instigator of the argument just laughed at them both. ‘Oh, bugger me. I’ve needed a good laugh,’ he wiped tears from the corners of his eyes as he pulled his chair around the desk so he could sit down with them. ‘I suppose we should get down to business, though.’

They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

‘Come in!’ the man called.

The sight that greeted them when the door was opened was almost enough to make David’s eyes pop out of his head. The enormous man that had escorted them to the office walked in, a frilly pink apron over the top of the suit straining to hold in his muscles. He was pushing a small trolley that had a variety of drinks, cups and cakes on it. With skilled, practiced hands he set everything onto the table sitting between them all and growled, ‘Enjoy…’ before exiting hurriedly.

The boss sighed. ‘He could have joined us… But poor Mobo gets so nervous around strangers… Gets all tongue-tied and just stares at ‘em. Hope you don’t take offense to it.’

‘N-No… Not at all…’ David avoided mentioning that he’d been terrified of the colossal man. In fact he felt a bit bad about it now. What was his name? Mobo? He felt as though he should apologise to Mobo later.

‘Anyway, before we begin; introductions! I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure, boyo. I imagine you’ve heard a bit about me from Kat. I’ve never done half the things she said… except when I’m wasted as all hell! I kid. I kid. The name’s Brenton Perchensky.’

He held out his hand for a handshake. Suppressing a grimace, David shook it.

‘Brenton… Not Brandon, huh?’ he said giving Kat a pointed look. Kat didn’t seem to notice. She was still trembling with, best case scenario, embarrassment or, worst case scenario, barely controlled rage still.

‘I’m Da-’ he hesitated. Was it really a good idea to give this person, Brenton, his real name? No matter how friendly he seemed he was the leader of a criminal gang, no matter how peculiar it seemed. However he had given his name willingly to Kat… So in for a penny in for a pound? ‘I’m David Parker.’

‘Pleasure to meet you, Dave. Can I call you Dave?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t.’

‘Davie?’

‘No.’

‘The D?’

‘Just… David please…’ he said with a sigh.

Brenton let out an irate noise and said, ‘Fine then, David. Good to meet you.’

David frowned, had meeting him been devalued from a “pleasure” to just “good” for objecting to a nickname?

‘I’m assuming you aren’t here for my company, as riveting as it is; so let’s get down to brass tacks.’ The jolly good humoured guy fell away as suddenly as it had arrived and a shrewd, calculating businessman took his place. ‘What’s this favour?’

‘First,’ David cut in before Kat could open her mouth, ‘I would like to know how much you know already.’

Brenton didn’t speak for a few seconds, studying David intently instead, until he finally consented. ‘I suppose it helps for everyone to be on the same page… Kat told me a little. That some of her people, her family, have been going missing. She asked me if I could set her up somewhere she could monitor a certain location. It just so happens one of my men lived opposite the place so it was simple to arrange.’

He frowned, ‘There are also whispers… about black vans snatching children off the street and carting them away to be experimented on by the government. Normally, I’d ignore that sort of rumour as the paranoid ramblings of nutters… But with what I’d heard from Kat…’ He let his sentence hang. David remembered only the night before though it felt like ages, that he’d had a similar reaction when Kat approached him with her story.

‘Now, it’s my turn to ask a question…’ Brenton slapped his knee for emphasis. ‘Who the hell are you and where do you fit in to all of this?’

David swallowed as he found himself caught in the sharp glare the man threw him. ‘I’m… the grandson of the owner of the lab Kat was investigating. I’m aiding in her investigation, now.’

‘“…was investigating?’”

‘That’s what we wanted to talk to about Boss,’ Kat answered. ‘David knew a lot about the inner workings of the place and with his help I infiltrated it and searched the lab. But…There was no sign of the kids there but we found a clue about the people who are kidnapping them…’ She fished around in her jacket and pulled out a familiar card which she handed to Brenton.

‘Hmm… I know this name…’ Brenton muttered. ‘Hold on a minute…’

Standing up he walked to the door and opening shouted outside, ‘James! I need you in here for a tick,’ before walking back to his seat. ‘You’d like James, he’s a killjoy too,’ he added to David. Did this guy really like nicknames that much?

They didn’t need to wait long before James entered, the man took one look at the other occupants of the room and let out a disapproving sniff before addressing his boss, ‘You called, sir?’

‘Yeah, we were talking just now and the name Mars Company came up…’ Brenton held out the card which James took and studied briefly before handing it back. ‘It sounds familiar but I can’t recall where I’ve heard it before… You don’t have any ideas, do you?’

James shook his head, ‘I don’t believe…’ He paused and thought  about it some more before saying hesitantly, ‘Actually, yes… I think Michael may have mentioned them once when he was talking about the war…’

‘Hmm… Alright, that’ll be all for now.’

‘Sir, if I may, if I had some more information I may-’

‘Did you not hear him Jeeves? That. Will. Be. All,’ Kat sang.

‘You are lucky that the boss spares his time to deal with you street rat. If it were me-’

‘ENOUGH!’ Brenton roared. David jumped, he didn’t expect this man to be capable of sounding so commanding, however just that one word had shut both James and Kat up. ‘Kat, if you wish to continue to have good favour with the Royal Bleeders then do NOT needlessly antagonize our members. As for you, James, you are dismissed. Understood?’

‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.’

‘Sorry, Boss.’

James left the room while Kat, looking like a scolded child sat meekly in her chair. Brenton let out a sigh, he seemed deflated… David got the idea that he disliked wielding authority.

However David had a more pressing concern. Hearing the name Michael in connection with Mars Company… It couldn’t possibly be him right? Was this the opportunity he’d been waiting for? Trying to hide the anticipation in his voice, David asked, ‘If I may, who might this “Michael” be?’

‘Michael Hayter, he owns the house I leant to Kat,’ David remembered the pictures in the house. The army man covered in scars. He tried to ignore how disappointed he was it wasn’t his father. ‘If we want to learn more about our enemy I suppose we will have to bother him. Hope he’s not sleeping…’

Brenton pulled out a mobile phone, and quickly phoned him. He then set it to loudspeaker and sat it down on the table. The name, Angel was displayed. Was that Michael Hayter’s nickname? While Michael was an angel was that all it took for you to be nicknamed Angel?

After a half dozen rings the phone was picked up. ‘Boss, you need something? The person on the other end spoke with an American accent, his voice was a low growl, the sort you only got after years of smoke inhalation.

‘Sort of. I’m told that you’ve had dealings with a group called Mars Company, correct?’

‘………’ There was silence from the other end of the line.

‘Angel?’ Brenton asked.

‘Sorry, Boss… I have but… Is this a personal request or a business matter?’

‘I suppose this would qualify as a personal request.’

‘Then, Boss, whatever your interest in them is, leave it. Getting involved with those guys is bad news.’

‘Please, Angel!’ Kat shouted suddenly. ‘These people are kidnapping children off the streets. They’re taking my family! And I have to get them back!’ She hung her head, begging the man on the other end of the phone. ‘Please!’

‘Is that the kitten?’

‘Kitten?’ David noticed a vein pulsing in Kat’s forehead.

Perhaps Brenton did as well because he quickly interjected, ‘Yes. While this is a request from Kat I will ask you to tell us what you know as well. If these people are operating in London then we may come up against them at some point. So, please.’

There was a strange crackle. It seemed Michael had let out a sigh from the other end of the line. ‘Alright, Boss… But there isn’t much I can say. I’ve only dealt with them one time and it was years ago. You know I fought in the Afghan war… Well, Mars Company was a mercenary group that our side bought to up our fighting potential in the first few months. I’d heard some rumours about them before but… the rumours didn’t tell the half of it.’

‘Calling them soldiers is a disgrace. These people fought for money and would do anything for it. And I mean anything. You’ve probably heard the horror stories about some of the stuff American forces were up to during the war? Well most of it was done by them. Worse though… I found out they did it all under orders. The brass wanted to send a message to would be terrorists. This wasn’t just some sort of eye for an eye thing, it was much more… brutal. I joined the army to fight, yeah. I wanted to get some revenge for the September Eleven attacks… But…When I saw what we were doing… The sort of things we were endorsing… I… I was actually happy when I got caught by an IED and sent home.’

David’s throat twisted as he tried to imagine it… What sort of things it would take for getting caught in an explosion to be a relief.

‘Mars Company are dangerous. They don’t have a moral code or anything like that. So long as there is payment they will make it happen down to the letter no matter how distasteful or dishonourable it is. Listen up, Kitten. This might be difficult to hear but if your family really has been taken by them then give up. Let them go. If you pursue this… then best case scenario you end up dead in some ditch somewhere with a bullet in y-’

He was cut off from continuing by Kat smashing the phone. She was panting heavily, her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated as her body shook. Neither David nor Brenton could move, they were overwhelmed by the animosity pouring out of her. ‘Give up? GIVE UP! YOU WANT ME TO ABANDON MY FAMILY! GOD DAMN IT!’ She kicked the table between them over the tea and cakes on top if it hit the ground, the cups and plates smashing.

The door burst open and James leaped in, a handgun in his hands while the colossus Mobo peeked in from behind him.

Whether it was destroying the tea set or the sudden audience Kat appeared to start calming down. Tears springing into her eyes, she hissed at David, ‘I’ll be outside,’ before racing out the door and out of view.

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

012%

Lucius escorted Hayter through the manor talking all the while like a tour guide. Explaining the history of the manor and other things, oblivious to the fact Hayter wasn’t paying attention to his incessant chatter. They eventually came to a non-descript corner on the first floor, reaching down to the ground Lucius grasped a slight indent and pulled. There was a trapdoor; it lifted up with a slight creak. ‘This was constructed during the days of prohibition, we’ve refurnished since then and we mainly use it for private family functions now,’ Lucius explained as he lead Hayter down the newly revealed stairs.

It was a large open room wooden floors, wooden walls, wooden ceilings and wooden stairs. Vintage wines were lined up against the wall behind a counter set up underneath the stairs serving as a makeshift bar, a couple of barstools stood next to it but most of the room was empty, the tables and chairs that would have been set up on the floor stacked neatly to the sides of the room leaving a wide open stage.

It certainly looked a suitable place for whatever friendly competition Lucius was planning though.

Two men who looked a lot more like the typical mobster Hayter had been picturing sat at the bar doing shots. They both sat up with a start when they noticed Hayter and Lucius entering.

‘Hello boys, working hard are we?’ Lucius asked his friendly smile suddenly looking sinister.

‘N-No. I mean… Yeah! Yeah! We were just taking a lunch break or something, right?’ one of the men, a slightly overweight gentleman with thinning hair stammered.

‘Oh yeah, just a break,’ said the other a weasely-looking man who spoke in a harsh grating Boston accent.

While the smile stayed firmly upon his face the sinister aura dropped away from it as Lucius said, ‘Well, I’ll overlook it this time since this works out quite well. One of you go up to my room and get the black case on my bedside table, the other will stay here and will serve as the referee for the game we’re about to play.’

At the mention of a “game” a greedy look appeared in both of their eyes. Snapping into action the weasel man shot up the stairs while the other one approached Lucius and Hayter licking his lips like a wolf eyeing his prey.

‘Usual rules?’ the balding man asked.

‘Yes,’ Lucius replied.

Hayter’s eyes narrowed. ‘This better be fair,’ he warned.

Lucius waved away his concerns, ‘It will be completely fair. Basically we will be fighting each other with knives. You will be welcome to inspect both our knives to ensure no foul play.’

‘I’m assuming this isn’t a fight to the death…’

Lucius laughed, ‘Oh no, not at all. Although that might be fun its own way, I assure you that death will not be intentionally involved. The rules will be as follows.’

Lucius held up three fingers, curling one he said, ‘One: The first person to draw blood wins.’ Another finger curled up, ‘Two: Should one of us accidentally or purposefully kill the other the offending competitor will be executed for the crime by the referee.’ The weasel man watching sneered at Hayter like he was daring Hayter to try it.

Lucius lowered his hand, ‘Three: Apart from where two is applicable we both agree that neither of us or our respective families, or gang in your case, will seek retribution for any injuries sustained in the course of the fight. Simple, yes?’

Hayter considered the proposition. It certainly didn’t seem to be rigged in any obvious ways, except that Hayter had no one here to ensure that in the event of Lucius killing him Lucius would actually be executed. However Hayter doubted the grinning idiot would be able to kill him. The real danger would be if Lucius’s skills weren’t up to the same par as Hayter’s and Hayter accidentally landed a fatal blow.

…landed a fatal blow…

‘Hmm?’ he cocked his head as he thought over the rules again, a plan beginning to form in his head.

As he thought Lucius removed his top and stood wearing only a tank top. He began stretching his muscles as they waited for the man who went to collect their weapons returned. He lacked Hayter’s muscular physique but still possessed a wiry strength.

‘I wonder what is taking Misha so long,’ Lucius said as he finished stretching about a minute later. Misha was apparently the weasel-ish man who went to get the knives. ‘Ah, speak of the devil,’ he finished as the door to the cellar was pulled back.

Except it wasn’t just Misha who walked in, about a dozen other men of all different shapes and sizes entered as well. Hayter heard Lucius sigh and whisper under his breath, ‘I was hoping to avoid a spectacle…’

Misha placed the black case he was carrying on the bar and began whispering to the overweight man who stayed behind. After conferring with each other Misha turned to the eager onlookers and shouted, ‘Alright, folks! We’ve got three to one odds on Lucy winning and eight to one odds on the stranger. Put your bets in quick!’

The audience began shouting their bets. Most bets were placed on Lucius but a couple bet on Hayter, although it seemed like they were more interested in the larger pay out then having any real confidence that Hayter would win. Ignoring the hubbub Lucius said to Hayter, ‘Feel free to inspect the knives. We’ll begin when you’re ready.’

Hayter nodded, walking over to the case and opening it. Inside nestled on velvet were six switchblades. Each one appeared identical with a matte black grip and shining silver blade about as long as Hayter’s middle finger. Picking each one up he inspected them carefully checking to make sure they were all equally sharp and that they weren’t weighted differently or had been somehow tampered with.

After satisfying himself that the weapons were all above board Hayter chose one of the blades and returned to his position near the centre of the room. Lucius stepped forward and took one knife from the case, however as he stepped away he left it open so that Hayter could confirm that there were still four of the blades inside.

Hayter made a couple of practice stabs and muttered, ‘It’s lighter then I’m used to…’

‘I could get you something with more heft to it. Wouldn’t want you to have an excuse for losing,’ Lucius sneered.

‘Nah, this will do.’ While it was light he wasn’t sure if it was because he was used to the combat knife he’d trained with in the army or if it just seemed that way because of his prosthetics. It was odd to think that while he was holding the knife it was not him holding it.

As the shouting of bets came to an end, Hayter nodded and said, ‘I’m ready when you are.’

Lucius looked at him bemused, ‘You don’t want to take off that suit?’ Unlike Lucius, Hayter had not taken off his clothes and was still wearing the suit he’d been wearing since he arrived.

Hayter smiled thinly. ‘Nah, this will do,’ he repeated.

‘Suit yourself then. Tim, when you’re done, count us in.’

‘Rightio! Any last minute bets? No? Alright, let’s do this!’ the guy called Tim said, clapping his meaty hands.

‘On the count of three, okay?’

They both nodded.

‘One!’

Hayter lowered his stance and clasped the switchblade firmly in his hand.

‘Two!’

Lucius smiled.

‘Three!’

Hayter was moving before Tim finished saying the word. Dashing forward, covering the distance between them in two steps Hayter got inside his opponents guard, utilizing his smaller size to his advantage and struck the blade moving to bury itself in Lucius’s kidney. Lucius seeming to react more on instinct then with any conscience thought stepped to the side the knife passing by his side.

In the single instant that followed both opponents reassessed their positions. Hayter had his hand extended, his body lowered slightly as he bent forward. Lucius was standing to his right, the taller man in the process of stepping backwards trying to create some distance. His face that had until then been set in that annoying smile was now set in an expression of shock.

Then the instant passed and Hayter moved reversing his grip on the knife he swung the blade up and around aiming for Lucius’s jugular. Hayter was radiating bloodlust and seemed to be set on killing his opponent. The onlookers were unable to intervene though, according to the rules their side had laid out, only actually killing the opponent was banned, Hayter could attempt it as much as he wanted.

Lucius pulled back further the knife whistling past his neck. He may have been planning to counterattack but Hayter wouldn’t give him the chance. Letting his momentum move him he swung behind Lucius and tried to stab into his back but he just barely missed again as Lucius leapt forward rolling to his feet a couple of meters away. He wasn’t safe though as in a second Hayter was on him again. The knife seemed to cut the very air apart as it passed Lucius’s nose.

Lucius was slowing down; the exhaustion from constantly defending against a storm of movement was wearing on him. During the still moments between attacks when the world seemed to stop moving Hayter watched his opponents expression move past shock and onto fear. After all, if Lucius slipped up there was a very good chance Hayter would kill him, and even if that meant Lucius would technically win, victory wasn’t worth dying for.

“Now!” Until then Hayter had been moving through attacks seamlessly never coming from the same direction twice. Now though he interrupted his attack pattern and stabbed out towards Lucius’s heart. He was worried that he had overplayed his hand a bit but Lucius took the bait apparently so relieved to have the opportunity to counterattack he hadn’t noticed Hayter’s unnatural movements.

Lucius dived to the side and lashed out with his own knife. It tore through Hayter’s jacket and shirt, striking his arm and running along it. It was a definite cut, the fight was over.

Hayter barely contained the smirk that rose to his lips as he quickly covered the tear in his clothes so no one noticed what lay beneath it. Seeing Hayter lower his arm and stop fighting Lucius naturally assumed he’d won. Turning to face the other in his family he shouted, ‘Vittoria per la famiglia!’ revelling in his victory.

Some of the onlookers groaned as they realised that greed had made them lose money while the majority cheered. Nobody noticed Hayter dropping his supposedly cut arm and raising it up. Compared to his previous assault where he’d seemed to be trying to kill Lucius he was almost nonchalant as he ran the knife across the taller man’s bicep.

A thin trail of blood welled up from the wound and began lazily trickling from the wound. Lucius noticing the pain looked down at the cut on his arm and realised what had happened. Instantly the mood changed, any warmth in the room disappeared and the onlookers all drew their handguns from their waist and aimed it at Hayter.

Lucius turned to Hayter slowly, a dour expression on his face, the friendly smile he’d shown before a distant memory. ‘I believe I said quite clearly, there will be no retribution from either of us for any injuries sustained in the fight. I cut you so you cut me, is that it? Nobody likes a sore loser, bastard.’

Hayter did not look particularly perturbed to be surrounded by men threatening to kill him. While he did drop the knife he was holding he showed no other signs of being kowtowed by the display. ‘The fight wasn’t over.’

‘Huh?’ Lucius asked incredulously.

‘The rules for winning… It was… “This first person to draw blood,” wasn’t it? Well you didn’t draw blood.’

‘This is ridiculous,’ Lucius was about to give the order for his men to fire when he noticed that there was no blood on Hayter’s suit. Suspicious he reached forward and tore open the sleeve to check the wound, inside all he saw was smooth metal… There was a thin scratch on the metal proof that Lucius had indeed landed a blow on him. ‘Take it off,’ he ordered Hayter.

Hayter complied silently; he started by removing the glove on his hand exposing the metal prosthesis hiding under his clothes. As he moved to pull off the other glove Lucius held up his hand signalling him to stop.

There was silence in the room for a few seconds. Then there was a chuckle. Finally Lucius burst into laughter, clasping his stomach. ‘Ha, ha, ha! I like you Michael Hayter! Let’s talk business.’

 They had moved to an office, Hayter was sitting on a sofa while he waited for Lucius to return. Now that he had a moment to himself he let out a relieved sigh. For a few minutes there he wasn’t sure how things were going to go. Especially his first move had been risky, if his opponents abilities weren’t up to par he may have accidentally killed him.

Luckily things had played out more or less how he wanted them to. In the past he hadn’t been particularly good at hand to hand. There was a time he and Fisher had gotten into a fight during training and Hayter had his ass handed to him. Since joining with the Bleeders though he’d been trying to improve his combat abilities, training with Mobo had paid off here.

‘Sorry for the wait,’ Lucius said as he opened the door and entered ending Hayter’s introspection. He was fully dressed again. ‘I was just applying a bandage. I still can’t believe I lost…’

‘It was a rather dirty trick though,’ Hayter tried to reassure him.

Lucius shook his head, ‘There is no such thing as a dirty trick, only strategy. Your strategy was flawless and bested any attempts to beat it. I thought with my skills at knife-play and my experience in those contests it was decided I’d win… I have paid the price for that hubris,’ he smiled, not the friendly, aggravating smile he’d worn before, but a rueful one.

Hayter didn’t reply, he felt if he continued trying to play down his victory he would be dishonouring the other man he’d fought with. If no one liked a sore loser then they obviously didn’t appreciate a poor winner.

Lucius either didn’t notice or didn’t mind his conversation partner’s reticence. Walking across the room to a shelf next to the desk he removed a small wooden box from it and returned, sitting across from the Hayter in an armchair.

‘Remove your clothes,’ he said suddenly.

‘Huh?’

Hayter doubted his ears, he had heard correctly though as Lucius repeated, ‘Your clothes remove them.’ Noticing Hayter’s continued lack of comprehension Lucius added, ‘I’ll patch them up; I cut them after all.’

Hayter looked down at the tear in the sleeve of his jacket and shirt. He had completely forgotten about that. Lucius was taking out a small sewing kit and was expertly threading some thread through the eye of a needle.

‘I’m a rather spectacular seamstress if I do say so myself.’

Figuring he had nothing to lose Hayter took off the top half of his clothes and handed them over to the self-proclaimed seamstress. As Lucius got to work with repairs he began speaking, ‘Now, although I did say we should talk business you will have to talk to our boss. They aren’t here right now, but we can set up a meeting.’

‘I half expected you to say that you were the boss all along,’ Hayter said, his skin prickling from the cold air.

Lucius laughed loudly at that, ‘Oh, no. I am nothing more than an underling. I do not have the ability to lead us…’ While he was still smiling he looked a little melancholic as he talked. ‘No, I’m afraid that while I may be able to see to the day to day running of the family, I am not qualified to lead.’

Hayter thought of James Secretan. While he saw to the basic day to day running of the Royal Bleeders he lacked the charisma to actually move anyone to action, they all followed Brenton for one reason or another. Was this a similar situation? But from what he’d seen Lucius certainly seemed like he was the charismatic sort.

‘Anyway, we should set a date. I’m sure you’d like to be back in England for Christmas to celebrate with your gang,’ Lucius continued. He’d finished sewing up Hayter’s jacket and had moved onto his shirt. Hayter had to admit that Lucius was good at this, it was almost impossible to tell there had been a rip in the first place. ‘Speaking of I still have to find out what the young miss is planning for Christmas… Hopefully she’ll bring some friends her own age over to celebrate for once…’ He appeared to be talking to himself so Hayter ignored him.

‘I’m not in a real rush to get back for Christmas, but…’ he thought of the phone call the night before. His fingers curled up into a fist, ‘… I would like to get back as quickly as possible.’

‘Hmm?’

Hayter had a sudden thought, these guys had done an in depth look into the gangs past, if Mars Company had started operating in London perhaps they had picked up something in their investigations. ‘Hey… Have you heard of a group called “Mars Company?”’ he asked slowly.

‘Hmm… No I can’t say I recall hearing of it…’

‘What about children going missing in London?’

‘Is this something to do with the little band of runaways your boss occasionally deals with?’

‘No… It’s nothing.’

Lucius studied him for a few seconds, his eyes searching for… something but he quickly gave up and returned to his task. ‘Alright done!’ He cut off the thread and handed the jacket and shirt back to Hayter who put them back on. They may not have been well insulated but they kept the cold at bay better than nothing.

As he did this, Lucius returned the box of sewing equipment to its shelf and went over to the desk and retrieved a leather bound diary. Humming he said, ‘The earliest I can pencil you in would be… Sunday morning, your meeting would have to take place during morning Mass but…’

Hayter shook his head. ‘I don’t think it’d be right for me to attend.’

‘Why? Are you an atheist or something? Because I don’t exactly believe in an old man in the clouds either, it’s more like… tradition. It’s something we do because we’ve always done it.’

‘No… I believe there is a Heaven and I believe in Hell. I believe there is a God that created all of this. I don’t think He’s worth worshipping though,’ Hayter admitted. ‘God may be our creator but that doesn’t mean we should show appreciation for someone who stands by and lets us kill and hurt each other.’

‘Hmm… Well, the next time we have available would be… Tuesday evening. Sometime after five?’

Hayter nodded, confirming the time. Still… it would have been nice to get this over with quickly… He was worried about how things were progressing back home.

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

FFF, vol: 13 - Not Sesame Street

Welcome to FFF volume 13! This week we'll be looking at 006%. Specifically two minor characters, the security guards Bert and Ernie! Get ready to hear some extra details, my thoughts on the series and characters and why I wrote things certain ways.

   1:As soon as I thought of the idea of these two security guards I knew they would be called Bert and Ernie. Who doesn’t know that bizarre puppet pair from Sesame Street? I did think about calling them Biggs and Wedge, but I decided against it. Who knows, a Biggs and a Wedge may turn up somewhere else...

   2:As soon as I knew I wanted them to be called Bert and Ernie I just started brainstorming what their full names could be. In the end I settled on Bertholdt Cummings and Ernest Smith. I got Bertholdt from Attack on Titan (Shingeki no Kyojin), Ernest has just been a name I’ve liked, like Aubrey, Avery, Miles and Patrick.

   3:In the chapter we only see Ernie. Bert is away during the chapter because his wife went into labour. By the end of 009%, Benjamin Cummings is born.

   4:Ernie used to instruct at a martial arts dojo, however when it went under his old friend from college Bert, offered to introduce him to the place he’d been working, Eoin’s lab. While he’s let himself go a bit his skills are still up to the par. Bert, for his part did boxing in high school.

   5:Ernie has a rather distinct accent in the story. This was done partly because... I was worried the characters all sounded the same. I tend to talk to myself to try to come up with “natural” seeming conversations for stories but I worry that because they are all basically my voice speaking my words that the characters are indistinguishable from one another. I may have gone a bit over board on Ernie though...

   Next week we’ll be covering Mars Company and some of the mistakes I made while coming up with the big bad guys. It’s gonna be a little embarrassing for me, so I hope you’ll enjoy it.

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

008% - First Half

He had the side-car in a death grip, his knuckles white and his muscles straining. David Parker was torn between a desire to get off this infernal machine any way necessary and a fear of being thrown off it. Worse still as he’d noted when Bluebird had approached them she was either reckless or suicidal. Driving slightly over the speed limit she would weave in between cars despite the narrow London streets and the fact she had a sidecar attached to the bike. By some miracle they hadn’t collided with anything yet although David had gotten so close to a couple of cars that he felt the air displacement of the wheels spinning as he passed.

Completely oblivious to the abject terror she was causing one of her passengers, Bluebird continued making her way across London and out into a more industrial area. At least the number of cars decreased there so David had one less thing to be terrified about.

After what seemed like an eternity but was actually only ten minutes, the motorcycle rolled to a stop outside a large pub. As soon as he was sure that they weren’t going to continue moving David scrambled out of that godforsaken death trap and doubled over as the tea he’d had only half an hour ago returned with a vengeance.

Fortunately it didn’t take long to empty the tank and he staggered backwards, banging against the wall of the pub and, the strength leaving his legs, he collapsed looking like a drunk with the worst hangover in history.

‘Your friends a bit of a light weight ain’t he?’ he heard Bluebird muttering, probably to Kat.

As David collected himself, Kat and Bluebird dismounted the bike and took off their helmets. When they were finished and David still looked like a corpse sprawled in the gutter, they shrugged and Bluebird said, ‘I’m gonna take my baby ‘round back. If ya want to help him, I’ll probably see ya both inside.’

Kat nodded, ‘Yeah, see you in there.’

Bluebird began wheeling the bike around into the narrow alley between the pub and the office block beside it, as she passed David she called cheerfully, ‘Buck up, love. You’ll be peachy again in no time, won’t ya!’

David murmured something under his breath, it definitely wasn’t complimentary.

Shrugging it off she disappeared from view. Kat let out an exasperated sigh and poked him in the side with the tip of her shoe. ‘You going to be alright?’

Looking up at Kat, his face looking more deathly then normal he said in a choked whisper, ‘I’m going… to kill you. If it’s the last thing I do… I swear, I will kill you.’

‘If you’re cheery enough to make death threats you’ll be fine.’ Grabbing him under the arm she pulled him up to his feet and began helping him towards the door of the pub that currently had a large conspicuous sign reading “CLOSED” on it.

David for his part had put himself back together enough to take some notes about the place. First, it was called the Swan’s Head. The building itself was three stories high. By the looks of it, only the first floor had been turned into a pub, it was a wide open space with large windows looking out onto the street. Despite the rather shabby brick exterior, the interior was made of nicely polished wood. Racks of various alcohols on display behind the bar seemed to be the centrepiece of the room. A small staircase off to one side gave access to the next floor and beside it was a large metal door that presumably lead into the kitchen.

Noticing her companion seemed to be returning to himself, Kat said as she opened the door, ‘You know we will still need to take the bike back.’

‘I’ll kill myself before I so much as touch that thing again,’ David snarled immediately.

Kat, trying to suppress laughter, choked out, ‘I didn’t think it was possible for you to get paler…’ before failing completely.

 Inside, perhaps drawn by the sound of Kat’s laughter a man appeared from upstairs. A wiry man of moderate build, the only really distinguishing thing about him were the chic glasses perched on the bridge of his long nose. ‘Kathleen, this is unpleas- I mean unexpected… Are you here to see the boss?’ the man said in a smooth, oily voice. Noticing David, slung over her shoulders he added, ‘Or perhaps you need a disposal service?’

Kat had a grimace on her face as she said, ‘We’re just here to see Boss, James. This guy just has some motion-sickness or something.’

The man let out a disapproving sniff and began walking back upstairs, calling behind him, ‘I will inform the boss. If your… companion… needs some water there is plenty in the tap.’

The man disappeared from view and Kat let out a sigh. ‘God, I hate that guy.’

‘Who is he?’ David croaked as he straightened up. He was feeling better now that he had something to focus on. Walking over to one of the tables he sat down in a chair. Kat just stood by the door a foul look on her face.

‘James something-or-other. He’s a real arse but he’s some kind of big wig with Boss. Like an advisor or something. Most of his advice is driven by pure greed, and he’s always trying to get Boss to cut ties with people like me.’

‘Like you?’

‘You know… external employees or whatever you’d call it. Contractors? Whatever, the point is he doesn’t think Boss should be giving people living rough jobs.’ If you considered it from a purely financial standpoint then James something-or-other had a point, being charitable was a poor business model. ‘He’s mostly the reason I don’t join up and get a more stable income. Having to listen to that dick…’ she shuddered.

He couldn’t really comment. He’d never had a career outside of helping his grandfather around the lab. There were plenty of people who he found intolerable but he lived in such a way that, for the most part, he could cut those people out from his life entirely. However he was given to understand that many people were forced to work with people they couldn’t stand. Some might even change careers entirely to avoid being forced to continually associate with someone.

His musings were interrupted by heavy footfalls coming down the stairs. David had thought it would be James returning to inform them that this “boss” was ready to see them, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. A colossal man, who was even taller than David but three times of as wide and seemingly made entirely of rippling muscles, appeared instead. His head was bald; a jagged scar ran across the left side of his face highlighting his heavy features and dark skin. If Bluebird had looked like some street punk and James an oily con-artist then this man was what David imagined a Mafioso to be.

Was this person the boss?

‘I thought she said he just had a big personality,’ David muttered to himself as the giant finished coming down the stairs and, stooping slightly so he wouldn’t hit the crown of his head on the ceiling, stepped into the room.

The giant glanced once at David and then turned to Kat and said, ‘Boss will see you now.’ Despite his enormous size and intimidating appearance his voice was rather soft and his accent wasn’t one David was familiar with. Perhaps he was from one of the African countries? At any rate it appeared this person wasn’t the boss…

Awed by the appearance of the man David forgot to move. The enormous man glared at him and growled, ‘You too.’

‘R-right,’ David squeaked.

‘Okay, now you definitely can’t get paler,’ Kat chirped as she began climbing the stairs.

 David wasn’t sure what he was expecting from a criminal hideout but it certainly hadn’t been the richly furnished office space he was walking through. It was like an executive’s office, at least as far as the appearance of the room. The people in it didn’t suit the place.

Apart from James and the giant he was lamely following, who both wore clean-pressed suits, everyone else was a lot more… colourful. Thick, heavy clothes, leather, belts, chains; it was almost like a caricature of a gang. Among them he spotted the pale blue head of Bluebird. She was talking to a couple of other people with bizarre hair colours. She noticed them and gave a cheery wave before going back to her conversation.

The gigantic man led them to a small room off to one side and beckoned them in silently. Kat entered seemingly without a care but David couldn’t help but hesitate before committing himself to walking inside. When he glanced up and saw the scowl on the giants face though he decided that whatever was waiting for him inside couldn’t be as bad as staying out there.

What he found inside was a small, homely office. There was a fireplace set into one wall that had a small fire crackling in the hearth. A couple of armchairs sat around a small round table, towards the back of the room was a large wooden desk and beyond that a leather chair that was occupied by a man.

He had angular features, his long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, coupled with his small goatee and moustache he was a textbook definition of a dashing rogue. He was talking on the phone to someone but seeing them enter he gave them a cheery wink and mouthed, “Just a mo’,” before beckoning them to the armchairs.

Kat had already made herself comfortable, stretching out on her chosen chair. David hovered for a few indecisive moments before lowering himself into the other chair. As he tried to make himself even half as comfortable as his companion he observed the man, who was apparently the infamous boss.

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

007%

Eyes glazed over, David waited for Kat to finish whatever she was doing in the phone booth behind him. Well, it was quite clear what she was doing. She had the receiver up to her ear and was talking animatedly to whoever was on the other end. Some coins she’d borrowed from him were stacked next to the pay phone. Despite the boredom of being left to wait on the side of street he was glad for the respite.

It let him collect his thoughts, which was becoming something of a rare occasion. Despite what he may have said earlier in his, looking back on it, rather embarrassing tirade, living an exciting life was unexpectedly tiring. Mentally tiring rather then physically, though he had to admit that the proposition of sleep was attractive.

Suppressing a yawn that came over him he glanced back at Kat to see her exiting the phone booth.

‘Thanks for that, they’ll be here in ten,’ she said passing him the coins he she hadn’t spent.

‘They?’ David asked as he slipped the coins into the pocket of his trousers.

Kat seemed to think for a couple of seconds before saying with a sly grin, ‘I think it’ll be more fun for you to wait and see.’

Somehow David thought that what he and Kat thought was fun were completely unrelated or perhaps her fun was inversely proportional to his own. Getting an anxious knot in his stomach, he forced himself to wait despite his instincts screaming to run for it while he still could.

However he wouldn’t run, he had decided to continue investigating the kidnapping of the children and the mercenary group involved, Mars Company. Kat believed that her “client” whoever they were, would be able to provide them with some clues as to who exactly Mars Company worked for, besides his Grandfather’s lab.

‘This… client of yours, what are they like? What should I expect?’ From what little he’d heard this client was clearly a rather unsavoury person, a career criminal most likely.

‘Hmmm…’ Kat swung her head side to side as she thought. Eventually she said, ‘I guess I’d describe him as… big.’

David let out an exasperated sigh. Her description was not remotely helpful but at least he now knew the gender of the client. ‘Tall, muscular, fat; big can be used to describe a lot of different things you’ll have to be more specific than that.’

‘No, I don’t mean physically… I mean his personality is very big. Like… He’s sort of the opposite of you. So, if he likes you he really likes you. If he finds something funny he’ll laugh his ass off. If he’s angry at you then heaven help you… That sort of thing.’

‘The opposite of me, huh?’

Kat snickered, ‘Well I think so. In case you haven’t noticed you don’t really let your emotions show much.’

David let out a noncommittal noise. Rather than not letting his emotions show he thought he was somewhat lacking. He often felt that his range of emotions were stunted, at least when observing the people around him he had always felt that his feelings were pale imitations of the genuine articles he’d seen people have. Maybe because of this he’d never really got along with people who had, as Kat described it, a “big personality.”

‘So does this mysterious client have a name? Is he affiliated with a particular group?’

‘Everyone just calls him, Boss, I don’t even remember his na-’ Cutting herself off she frowned. ‘Actually… I think his name is… Brendan something… Brendan Clover? Brendan Cleaver? Brendan…’

She was trailed off muttering to herself. It didn’t look like she was going to be much help there, at any rate he at least had a first name, Brendan. A criminally minded person, who employed homeless kids, lent out the houses of his associates to those same kids and had a big personality.

He still wasn’t getting a clear picture of this guy. The best he could imagine was a cartoony Mafioso; the sort with a long moustache to stroke while plotting wicked deeds. This was probably a completely inaccurate portrayal of the man and David resolved to cease speculations and make his own impressions when they met.

‘Oh, but as for his gang, it’s called the Royal Bleeders.’

“Royal Bleeders?’ What sort of name is that?’

‘I don’t know, ask him when you meet him.’

He was really regretting his decision to follow her on this quest… How could she live with such little concrete information about the people around her? It would drive him mad.

They stood in silence for a while before Kat said hesitantly, ‘Umm… hey…’ David glanced at her; she was scratching her cheek, almost like she was embarrassed about something. ‘So… I wanted to say… you know… sorry.’

‘Sorry?’ What exactly was she sorry for? He could think of a lot of stuff she’d done that she might need to apologise for. And while it may have been petty he wasn’t going to let her just do a blanket apology for all of them.

Letting out an annoyed groan Kat rubbed the back of her head and then turning to face him said, ‘I’m sorry about saying that, that lab was kidnapping children. I mean… your granddad runs it and I was accusing him of all that and it can’t have been easy to hear someone saying all that and well… Sorry!’

To be honest he hadn’t cared about all that much. He had felt it necessary to correct her mistake, but that was just because he hated it when people had misconceptions or were ignorant of things.

And if she’d been agonizing over saying those things since visiting the lab and changing her mind… well he appreciated the sentiment that had gone into those thoughts, however he felt he needed to correct her on one thing. ‘We haven’t found evidence that the lab isn’t connected to the kidnappings. We just didn’t find any signs that they were. Lack of evidence is not the same as proof of innocence. And even if the lab itself isn’t connected directly it’s possible someone working there is involved in some manner.’ A certain face came to mind causing him to grit his teeth.

Kat looked at him sharply, any sheepishness she may have had disappearing in an instant. ‘What? Do you have a suspect?’

David grimaced. He didn’t really want to talk about Michael Blunt, not unless he had to but he didn’t think it would be right to lie outright and say that there wasn’t one… Although that may have been wishful thinking on his part… After all the one thing he’d needed all these years to move against his father was an excuse.

A cruel sneer formed unbidden on his face. Kat, seeing the expression decided to drop the subject, luckily for her, a change of topic was approaching.

‘Ah, our rides here,’ she said stepping forward and waving.

Broken out of his reverie he looked around but couldn’t yet see anything that looked like a form of transportation. He was about to ask Kat what she was talking about but then he noticed the low gravelly growl. ‘No. No. No. No. No,’ he muttered his breath growing short.

Approaching them down the street was a motorcycle. David didn’t know enough about the blasted things to say if it was pretty or impressive, or any good really. It didn’t look like a hunk of junk pulled out of a garbage dump at least. He could say that the leather clad person riding it definitely seemed like a skilled rider, either that or a suicidal one. They took a hand off of the handlebars to wave back at Kat. That had to be some sort of violation of laws right? If it wasn’t it, it should be.

The motorcycle pulled up, the machine letting out a guttural roar as though irritated at having to cease moving. Patting the machine, the rider turned the bike off and dropped the kickstand before dismounting. After playing with the full-face helmet covering their head for a few seconds they pulled it off revealing their face.

It was a woman probably about thirty years old, who looked vaguely Oriental with shortish hair that had been dyed a pale blue colour. She had half a dozen rings in her ears and some freckles across her nose but apart from that she was a rather plain person. Smiling the woman moved around her bike and hugged Kat.

‘Looking good, Kat. Makin’ trouble?’ Despite her appearance she spoke with a thick Cockney accent.

Kat winced as she hugged the woman back. The wounds she’d received from the mercenaries in the Mars Company clearly still hurt. ‘Not if I can help it. Not yet at any rate.’

David stood to the side, trying to distance himself from the bike and desperately ignoring the possibility that he was going to have to get on the thing.

‘And, is this your new squeeze you were tellin’ me about. You’re right he’s got a good arse on him.’

‘Huh!?’ David gasped, he stepped away from Kat quickly. What the hell had she been saying on the phone?

‘Shut up!’ Kat growled elbowing the older woman in the ribs. ‘Like I actually said, this is David. He’s been… helping me out, I guess?’

‘What do you mean, “you guess?”’ he sighed. ‘David Parker, victim of circumstance,’ he introduced himself.

‘Ah, you’re right, he’s totally the hoity-toity sort, ain’t he?’ the woman said nodding knowingly to Kat. Seriously, what the hell had she been telling her? ‘I’m Violet, love, most folks call me Bluebird though,’ the woman said, holding out her hand for a handshake which he hesitantly shook.

He was curious whether she’d chosen her hair colour or gotten the nickname first but decided it would be rude to ask. Instead he said, ‘May I ask how you and Kat know each other?’

‘Hmm? I didn’t say?’ asked Kat.

‘No you didn’t. You said that you were arranging a lift and then demanded money for the phone.’

‘Ah, well Bluebird a transporter same as me, unlike me though she’s a bone fide member of the Royal Bleeders,’ Kat explained.

David paled as he realised he’d just shook hands with a criminal. How could this thirty year old woman, who despite her accent which was rather grating to his ears, was friendly and affable be a gang member? Surely there was some rule that all criminals had to dress like either anti-social ruffians or suit wearing Mafioso?

Bluebird had apparently not noticed the change in David’s complexion. Although he was so pale at the best of times it was probably difficult to notice. The woman was talking to Kat. ‘So I guess I’ll be takin’ both of ya to see the Boss, eh? That explains why you told me to put on the side-car.’ David hadn’t noticed it before, probably because he had been avoiding thinking about it but there was indeed a small side-car attached to the bike. ‘So, love, you ever ridden before? Love?’

Kat elbowed him in the side. Startled he asked, ‘What, were you asking me?’

‘Course, love. Who else would I be talking to?’

‘Umm… I think I’d prefer to be called David,’ he requested meekly.

‘Sure thing, love,’ Bluebird said. She wasn’t even going to try was she? Ignoring the pained expression on his face, she asked David again, ‘So have you ever ridden before?’

David shook his head. He couldn’t be bothered anymore. This was becoming all too bothersome.

‘Alright… You get the side-car, then,’ she said turning around and reaching into the sidecar she pulled out two basic helmets, the sort of ones that clipped on under your chin, and tossed one to Kat who caught hers and one to David who fumbled and dropped it. ‘Course, that means Kat you’re with me.’

‘You know… I could stay behind or take a bus or something,’ David offered weakly as Kat strapped on her helmet and Bluebird pulled hers back on. They either didn’t hear him or were ignoring him as the two mounted the back and waited for him to climb into the side-car. After letting out a defeated sigh and cursing his choice to continue investigating David grabbed his helmet and for once in his life said a prayer that he wouldn’t he die on this awful death machine.

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

006% - Second Half

He frowned at the nonsensical label: “Probability Engine.” Curiosity piqued David opened the file. Inside were a couple of schematics of an odd pillar shape device and a set of mathematic formulae that he couldn’t even begin to make heads or tails of.  However he recognised the handwriting as his grandfathers… There was nothing there that said what a probability engine was though. Flipping back to the designs he studied them closer trying to work out the devices raison d’etre. It looked vaguely like a steam engine however there was nowhere for the water necessary to create the steam to go. Instead what looked like a miniature hadron collider had been installed in the centre plugged into... something. Was that supposed to be a lightbulb? The designs were rough and imprecise, something in the conceptual phase, perhaps? As far as he could see there was nothing to explain what this machine was supposed to do… Not even the name gave him an idea… ‘Got it!’ David jumped as he was pulled out of his reverie by the excited voice behind him. He stuffed the file back inside the cabinet before he could even think and shut it. He felt like a child who had been found with his hand reaching into the cookie jar. ‘G-Got what?’ he stammered, unable to remember what he had been doing before he’d become side-tracked. ‘I found a bunch of invoices under deliveries and there was a business card among them,’ Kat held out the small card for him to see. The card was white, the company’s logo a boar’s head stamped on it in red. It had a phone number and the words “MARS COMPANY” emblazoned on it in black. Kat glanced at the card and asked, ‘You think it’s Mars like the planet?’ ‘No,’ David answered immediately. ‘I would guess it’s a reference to the Roman god of war. Mars was based on the Greek god Ares, one of his symbols was a boar.’ Kat snorted at him. ‘Is there anything you don’t know?’ ‘……’ He didn’t say anything in response. Taking his silence as conceited satisfaction she curled her lips into a grimace as she stood up stretched grandly. ‘Well, I’ve got a new lead, so let’s get out of here.’ David nodded in agreement. He was eager to leave… Leading the way he stepped out of the small room into the hallway. They were at the far end of the lab; there was only the door to the archive and the door to his grandfather’s workshop. The lab building was shaped like an L and they were at the tail end. When David had asked his grandfather why he put his personal lab so far from the entrance Eoin had joked, “That way if everything goes Shaun of the Dead and zombies bust in I’ll have a lot more time to arm myself or escape through the window.” He was grateful it was so far out of the way now because it gave him a brief respite to stretch out his muscles. He hadn’t realised just how stiff he’d gotten squatting down in that cramped closet until he stood up. Kat appeared to still be nice and limber but she was suppressing a yawn. She hadn’t gotten much sleep before David rudely woke her… Noticing he was looking at her, she smiled and said, ‘Well, I think that’s everything… Thanks for your help.’ Confused by the odd… finality with which she’d said that David was going to ask what she meant but was interrupted by Kat abruptly changing. The sleepiness was gone from her and she had the same feral look he’d seen in her before. Stepping in close to him, David flinched thinking he was about to be hit. Instead she whispered, her mouth uncomfortably close to his ear, ‘There are two people coming this way.’ David’s pupils dilated as his mind went into overdrive. Had Eoin Parker returned? David had to admit that he hadn’t been paying as much attention to the time as he probably should have… If he had to guess he would say that maybe an hour had passed since they had first stepped inside the lab… Perhaps it was someone else, another couple of scientist coming in to start work or Ernie had decided to come check on them worried after that scene with Kat. Or some combination of the three… …Or it could be him. A dark murky feeling in the pit of his stomach, David tried to consider the possibilities. Whoever the people coming were getting spotted coming out of the archive could prove difficult to explain. And if… if it was some of the soldiers from Mars Company coming to eliminate any evidence of themselves from the lab they may decide to put both him and Kat down on the spot. Or worse they could drag them off and interrogate them about what they knew. ‘Into the workshop!’ David hissed, pushing Kat towards the door further up the hall. He had told Ernie they would wait in his grandfather’s workshop and if it was someone looking to get rid of anything in the archive then they probably wouldn’t check in there. ‘Hurry!’ he gasped unintentionally as he saw two shadows appearing on the wall of the corner. Getting inside the room, David shut the door most of the way closed and hurriedly went to sit down somewhere. In his haste he stubbed his toe on one of the tables and a strange circular device that looked sort of like an enormous pocket watch fell off of the table. Swearing, David hastily caught it and threw it back onto the desk before grabbing a folding chair hidden away in a corner of the room and sat down in it. He hadn’t had time to take note of what Kat was doing but she had apparently realised what was going on and had perched herself on the edge of the small tea-table. Just as he let out a relieved sigh the door opened and in walked two people in the middle of a conversation. ‘…you think he meant by a surprise? Ah…’ Eoin Parker stopped in his tracks as he took in the site of his grandson and a mysterious girl sitting in his office. ‘What is it?’ said the other person peeking past him into the room. ‘Ah…’ Chloe Blunt had her jaw somewhere near the floor as she saw her brother sitting with some chick. Smiling and tilting her head inquisitively, Kat looked the picture of innocence while David was panicking like he’d been caught with his pants down. ‘Ch-Chloe?’ David asked, his voice squeaking. ‘What are you doing here?’ Of all the possibilities he’d considered, Chloe was not one of them. Worse still his sister was extremely intuitive and just a little overprotective of her big brother. If she found out that he was neck deep in a conspiracy… The thought was more terrifying then being tortured by ex-soldiers. Rather than Chloe, Eoin answered, ‘She said she wanted to talk to me… because you were acting very odd last night…’ Chloe nodded emphatically. ‘What are you doing here? And… who might this be?’ ‘Ah… This is… Kat, and I…’ his brain was stalling. Too much was happening at once. ‘Better question is, “Why the hell is Dee-Dee hanging out with her?”’ Chloe interjected. Her surprise had passed and she was into full on suspicion. Things were spinning out of control and David had no idea how to rectify the situation. His mind had ground to a halt, overloaded as it tried to cope with the constantly changing situation. Wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of plan? If there was one it had fled his mind. Salvation came from Kat who until that point had been watching silently. ‘Sorry for intruding and all that. I’m Cait Lynn, I’m writing a report on modern visionary scientists for school. David suggested I talk to you, sir,’ she lied smoothly. David glanced at her confused. Now that the pressure was off and he had time to think he could remember the plan he’d been forced to go along with. Kat had been all gung-ho about her fake couple plan but now she was abandoning it? That and the way she’d been talking just before Eoin and Chloe had arrived left him feeling slightly uneasy. Eoin Parker blinked a few times in surprise and switched modes from Eoin Parker, grandfather to Doctor Parker, leading expert on all things science. ‘I’m always happy to help academic pursuits and nurture young minds, what would you like to know?’ ‘Your grandson has told me a lot about your work and achievements so I was hoping to ask you and your process, you know… more personal things…’ Kat began. ‘Of course, where shall we start?’ There was an almost audible click as Doctor Parker went back to Eoin Parker and turning around he asked, ‘Chloe, dear, would you make me and our guest a cup of tea, and yourself of course. David knows where the extra cups are, so have him help you.’ And then Doctor Parker returned. ‘Could you tell me what your image of an ideal scientists is,’ Kat asked, giving a subtle sign to David who was looking on flummoxed that she could handle things. So as Kat continued her faux interview David and Chloe set to work making tea for four. As the jug boiled, Chloe sidled up to her brother with a frown on her face, a question on her lips and suspicion in her eyes. ‘Are you really helping this chick with her schoolwork?’ ‘Ah, yeah…’ David nodded dumbly. ‘Really? You?’ she persisted. Seeing that she wasn’t going to get a better answer she changed her tactics. ‘How do you even know her anyway?’ He quickly realised that he would be unable to fool her. Chloe could be unusually sharp, especially where her brother was concerned. Hoping to distract her from her inquiries David instead asked, ‘Was I really acting odd last night?’ His recollection from after he parted ways with Kat at Studio 1D was vague at best. He’d been busy, trying to wrap his brain around everything he’d learned. In fact he barely remembered anything from before he’d woken up and seen him. Chloe glanced up at him, her eyes betraying the concern hiding behind her irritated expression, ‘You were acting super odd. You were all distracted and fidgety, barely paying attention to what was going on around you.’ She pouted, ‘I ended up leaving halfway through Crystal Sky’s first song cause you were so out of it. I thought you were having some sort of… panic attack or something.’ David murmured an apology. He clearly recalled how excited Chloe had been about seeing the singer with the rather unusual name. He would have to make it up to her one day soon… After everything with Kat had been resolved… ‘Then on the way home, you were so jumpy. Every time a car went by you’d grab me… Then when we got home you just collapsed all of a sudden and went to sleep. And.. And…’ Chloe was sniffling, tears beading around her tear ducts.  “When I woke up in the morning you were gone… No note… Nothing… I thought… I thought…’ David patted her head softly and didn’t try to pry her off when she buried her face in his side. While he couldn’t… No, he could have explained everything about Kat to Chloe, but he didn’t want her involved… If things were as dangerous as he thought they were he wanted Chloe as far from the matter as possible. He may have chastised Kat for using movies as a point of reference for her plans, he was viewing the situation similarly. In movies, when the heroes were going up against a government conspiracy there was always a moment when their family or friends are endangered because they let on information to them, making them a risk. And… he was afraid to lose Chloe. Not just Chloe but Eoin as well. They were his precious, irreplaceable family and if he lost them… So, while he wouldn’t explain his odd behaviour he could at least explain why he’d disappeared in the morning. Part of the reason at least… ‘When I woke up… I mean… Even before that I remembered some things from a long time ago… Then, he came home… And I just couldn’t stay. I just felt…’ David trailed off. He wasn’t sure what he felt… Angry? Helpless? Depressed? None of those felt right, it was the same feeling that had plagued him for as long as he could remember. A feeling of hollowness… Right at his core an empty space where something was missing. Chloe seemed to sense what he was feeling without him putting into words or at least she knew that whatever he felt was problematic. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, tightly. ‘At least you could let me know you were alright, you big idiot,’ she said chastised him. ‘Yeah… Sorry.’ David felt like he’d apologised more times in the last couple of days then he had in the rest of his life. Just as the siblings finished their little bonding moment, the jug finished boiling. Making the tea they handed the cups out and sat down to watch Kat continue faking her way through the interview. David had to admit that she was an excellent actor. Perhaps she was even better then him. He had been hiding it for so long now he couldn’t remember when he started but the hollow inside of him had stripped him of something important, something he couldn’t let people see he was missing. He knew the cause, or he thought he did. Michael Blunt and that one phrase. He was positive that, that night, the night he’d dreamed of, had been when the hollow was carved inside him. If he listened closely he could still hear those words echoing inside of him. “… no son of mine!” He glanced at his reflection in the window that was filtering light into the room… His head was hurting again… It seemed to be happening more and more frequently. Perhaps he was developing a resistance to the tablets he took… Shaking his head to rid himself of the tangential thoughts he turned back to the present putting it from his mind. ‘…again anytime,’ Eoin was saying, smiling happily. Had Kat finished her interview? It certainly seemed so. The tea in the other’s cups had disappeared, when he glanced at his own, David noticed it had gone cold. Grimacing he quickly drained it as Kat continued to get ready to leave and Eoin talked to her. ‘It gets stuffy in here all by myself so I welcome the company.’ ‘I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything,’ Kat replied the most realistic fake smile he had ever seen on her face. ‘But, if I have the opportunity I would be glad to come back.’ Turning around she faced him with a friendly smile, David had to admit he found the expression disconcerting somehow. Just the idea she could create such a natural smile to fool people… ‘Shall we get going?’ David nodded and got to his feet. ‘I’ll see you again, soon,’ he promised both Chloe and Eoin as he left. Kat right on his heels said, ‘It was a pleasure meeting you, both.’ However as they walked down the hallway Chloe grabbed Kat’s arm and hissed at her, trying and failing to prevent David from hearing, ‘Wait a minute. I want a word.’ David pretended he hadn’t noticed as he continued around the corner. As soon as he was sure his shadow would no longer be visible he stopped moving and listened intently. Eavesdropping may not be a good habit to get into but it might prove to be necessary to step in and prevent the conversation from continuing if Kat starts mentioning things she shouldn’t. ‘Yes?’ Kat was asking. She sounded irritated at being stopped but David could picture her with the same smile on her face she’d had when talking with Eoin. ‘I don’t know what’s going on between you and my brother,’ Chloe spoke darkly. She was threatening Kat? ‘I believe I said that he was helping me with schoolwork,’ Kat lied again. Chloe snorted, ‘You think I’d actually believe that bollocks? My brother hates almost everyone and would never waste his time helping people.’ David groaned, while it was true for the most part did he really come off as such a negative person? ‘Now, I get the feeling Dee-Dee… I mean David, doesn’t want me to know what’s going on between the two of you and I’ll respect his wishes and not ask… But let me make one thing clear… My brother is fragile. If you hurt him, if you put him in danger, I will ruin you.’ She let her words hang in the air for a few seconds before saying, ‘Do I make myself clear?’ David was having a hard time not jumping out and begging Chloe to stop talking. Not only was she using a bunch of clichés but it was mortifying having his little sister be so protective of him. Because he didn’t though, he got the answer to his question: Why Kat had been acting rather standoffish. ‘Don’t worry. Despite what you said, David has helped me, and I don’t intend to involve him in my problems anymore.’ David frowned. He was angry. Genuinely angry, at someone who wasn’t his father. Like hell he was going to say goodbye now. He wasn’t some secondary character there to provide a hint to the protagonist before disappearing into a obscurity or an unmarked grave. He had found himself in the middle of a conspiracy. Children were being kidnapped on the streets of London by a private military force with connections to the government, from the moment Kat had first grabbed his arm yesterday afternoon he had been pulled along from one event to the other. If he had to take part in this bizarre, twisted story then he sure as hell was going to be the main character. If Kat thought different then she was bloody wrong. When Kat stepped outside the lab she was met by a grim faced David. ‘Wh-What?’ she asked hesitantly. ‘Whoever said that you could just cut me out of this investigation?’ It was more of an accusation then a question. ‘Huh? What are you talking about?’ ‘I listened to you and Chloe just now, and I don’t care what your intentions are, I’m seeing this through to the end. I’ll even work alone if you care so much about not getting involved with “your problems.” She looked at him slack jawed. ‘Why? I thought I was doing you a favour. Letting you get back to your life. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you don’t seem cut out for this stuff. Especially if we have to go up against those bastards,’ she muttered the last part, clutching her side where she probably still had the bruises from the beating the soldiers Mars Company had given her. ‘I only asked you to help me investigate this lab. I thought you’d want to walk away so I spent a half hour listening to some old man talk on and on about particles and waveforms and Peanuts characters, just so you could go back to your life with as little a change as possible. Now you tell me you want to stick with this?’ For some reason she seemed to have become angry at him. However, David would not back down. Not now. He was stubborn when he set his mind to something, ‘My life? I’ve spent my life learning everything I could in the vain hope of getting recognition from a father that refuses to acknowledge my existence!’ What the hell was he saying? He hadn’t meant to say that but it was coming out of his mouth in an unstoppable stream. ‘I spend my days bored out of my mind as so called “teachers” fail to teach me anything! I push away anyone who tries to act friendly or nice because I know that people are afraid and jealous of me, because I am smarter than they could ever possibly be. Most of all, I HATE PEOPLE! They are rude, crude, hedonistic, insipid, troglodytes who would rather spend time and money killing each other than trying to understand the diverse and complex universe around them!’ He was panting; David couldn’t remember ever having an outburst like this before. He felt odd… He wasn’t sure what the feeling was… It felt similar to satisfaction but it was more nuanced.  Glaring Kat in the eyes he growled, his voice hoarse from shouting, ‘Why would I be in a hurry to return to a life like that?’ They stared each other down for another minute or so… Then Kat burst out laughing. ‘You’re an idiot you know that!’ ‘Huh?!’ She was having trouble breathing as she doubled over, laughing so hard that her sides hurt, ‘Y-You should see your face…Ha, ha, ha, ha!’ David’s face twisted as he tried to work out what was going on but that just set Kat off laughing even harder. When she finally started to calm down she let out a long sigh and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Ha-ah… I think I needed that.’ ‘We have a new clue so what now?’ David asked. Kat motioned for him to follow and they headed back towards the house opposite the lab. ‘Information gathering. I…’ she noticed the scowl on his face and corrected herself. ‘We have a name now. Hopefully that will be enough for some friends to be able to work out where they might be based. Anything that might help us find the kids…’ ‘Some friends?’ ‘Ah…’ Kat looked away for an instant an odd expression on her face. ‘Right… Umm… Remember when I mentioned a client of mine… The client that lent me this house,’ she said as she pushed the door of said house open. David turned pale. Didn’t she say this guy had her delivering packages without giving her any idea of what could be in them “for safety?”  The only things he could think of that might be in these packages were not the sort of stuff a decent law-abiding citizen would be dealing with. Ever the optimist David asked with a strained smile, ‘What about them?’ ‘I was going to see if I could get him to look into the company…’ she said poking her tongue out with a “tee-hee.” ‘Ah… I’m seriously regretting sticking with this,’ David complained. He had a headache again but this was definitely a symptom of stress rather than his usual migraines. Reaching the room where they had been observing the lab before they left. Kat turned around with a frown on her face. ‘Why are you following me? Get out?’ ‘Huh?’ Didn’t they just finish having this argument? ‘My clothes should be dry now so I’m changing. Now GET OUT!’ With a squeak David scurried outside as the door slammed shut. If he had to keep dealing with this temperamental quick to anger vixen then he was definitely going to regret sticking with this.

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

006% First Half

‘This is a stupid idea,’ Kat grumbled. ‘No, it’s just uncomplicated,’ David corrected her. ‘My plan is better,’ she complained. ‘Your plan is ridiculous. There is no way in hell I’m putting myself through that.’ ‘It works in movies all the time.’ ‘You have got to stop basing things on movies! They are fictional works filled with plot holes, inconsistencies and baseless myths. Movies should not be used as models for anything, at least not by anyone in their right mind.’ ‘Just how far did they have to shove that stick up your-’ Their argument had to be cut short as they reached the labs entrance. After beating him black and blue for “attempting to drown her” Kat had changed out of her soaked clothes into some she had apparently brought in case of an emergency. What that emergency might have been David did not have the foggiest. Afterwards Kat had briefly outlined her plan before leaving for the lab. Her plan, pulled straight from a romantic comedy, would be for them to pretend to be in a relationship. He had refused to entertain the notion of enacting “Operation: Fake Girlfriend,” which had led to them arguing all the way across the street. David’s plan meanwhile was just to say he wanted to introduce her to his grandfather. There was no need for complicated lies or backstories which they would have to make up on the fly. He sincerely hoped she wasn’t expecting him to kiss her to prove they were in a relationship. First, the idea you could prove a relationship with a simple peck on the lips was absurd. Second, David was adamantly opposed to any overt signs of affection for anyone, let alone a relative stranger. ‘Just let me do the talking and don’t do anything unnecessary,’ David warned her as the automatic doors opened revealing the security checkpoint. The room was nowhere near as austere as its name made it sound; in fact it looked more like the reception of an office. Usually two guards, Berthold Cummings and Ernest Smith, better known as Bert and Ernie would be sitting behind the wooden desk that sat just beside the door. Today however for some reason Bert was gone and only Ernie was there. Slightly overweight, with a short and stocky build, fair hair and ruddy cheeks, he didn’t look like your typical security guard. David had always assumed that Ernie was the ‘friendly face’ for the lab and Bert was the muscle. However he had once seen Ernie judo throw a rather persistent news reporter out the door when some sensationalist newspaper tried to get on the anti-vaccination band wagon. Ernie was also a terrible gossip and he seemed to possess some sort of sixth sense about any juicy happenings. As soon as he looked up and saw David walking in, with Kat beside him wearing a plain white blouse and a shawl rather than her cardigan, large coat and cabbie hat his sixth sense started buzzing figuratively audibly. ‘Good morning, is Bert not in today?’ David had seen Bert and Ernie enough times that not greeting them would have been strange. Plus, commenting on the conspicuous absence of Bert offhandedly would hopefully tell him whether he had to watch out for Bert coming back from the bathroom or something and stumbling upon him and Kat in a compromising position. ‘Bertie just rang to say ‘e wasn’t goin’ to be in today. ‘is wife’s gone in to labour she ‘as, so ‘e’s rushing off to the ‘ospital,’ David had never been able to figure out if Ernie had a speech impediment or spoke with an accent. He felt it would be rude to ask so he’d curbed his curiosity and let the matter lie. ‘Good for him, please give him my congratulations next time you see him,’ David said. Good, he wouldn’t have to worry about Bert running into them as they snooped. ‘Is my father in? I have someone I’d like to introduce to him,’ he asked despite knowing the answer already. ‘Oh, I’m afraid ye just missed ‘im,’ Ernie replied, despite his conversational tone it was plain to see he hopping with excitement, wanting to sink his teeth into the gossip in front of him. ‘Per’aps you’d be introducing the young lass standin’ be’ind yer?’ ‘Obviously,’ David shot back testily. What was the point in asking such a question when the answer was so clear? ‘And… she would be?’ David paused to think; which was a mistake. Kat took the opportunity to cut into the conversation and use her plan instead of David’s. ‘Hello, I’m Cait Lynn. Davie and I thought it was about time I met his family.’ ‘Davie?’ Ernie said in surprise, luckily not noticing David had done the exact same thing except with disgust. ‘Wait a minute, you can’t just-’ David was cut off from speaking the rest when he received an elbow to the ribs. Kat smiled at him, promising him more of the same if he didn’t play along. ‘Ah… Well I guess the secret’s out now,’ he said in a monotone. ‘If grandfather won’t be too long…’ Despite it being childish he really wanted to get back at her for using such a ridiculous pet name as “Davie.” Grabbing the first thing that popped into his head he continued saying, ‘Kitty and… I…?’ he trailed off in surprise. Kat who had been smirking at him with an air of victory suddenly turned white as a ghost and started shaking lightly. Her hands were balled into fists, her knuckles white and she was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. ‘Excuse me,’ she muttered barely choking the words out before running off deeper into the lab. ‘Ah…’ He looked after her, his mind a muddled mess as he tried to figure out what had happened. Unable to come to a conclusion on his own though, David found himself asking, ‘What was that?’ Ernie who was sitting there with an equally dumbstruck look on his face replied, ‘I’ve no idea… But ye stepped on a landmine, that much I can tell ye.’ David bit his lip. This was why he hated interacting with other people. They were always acting in ways that denied common logic and a good friendly conversation could devolve into a furious argument at the drop of a hat. And he was always left grasping at thin unable to comprehend what had happened and not knowing something… it reminded him off the pieces he was lacking… Cursing, David briefly said to Ernie, ‘I’m going to make sure she’s alright. After that we will wait inside grandfather’s workshop, if you could tell him to come see us when he arrives,’ and before Ernie could reply David took off after Kat. He didn’t have to go that far; he found her sitting in a foetal position just beyond the security checkpoint. Compared to moments before she looked less pale and she wasn’t shaking noticeably anymore, however David still approached cautiously. ‘Um… are you… alright?’ he asked hesitantly. ‘I’m fine,’ Kat growled at him. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself before saying, ‘Just… Just don’t… ever call me… call me that again.’ He barely stopped himself from asking, ‘Why?’ Instead he nodded silently and muttered an apology. ‘It’s fine.’ She seemed to be back to her usual self now. ‘Let’s just get this over with…’ David nodded and made a mental note to himself, banning the use of the word ‘Kitty’ around Kat. At her request David led her through the lab showing her all the facilities and letting her verify there were no kidnapped children being locked up inside. At first they talked, Kat would ask questions about the work the lab does, what the stranger bits of equipment were used for and other things, but as they made their way further into the facility she grew increasingly more irritable as there was no sign of her family and the conversation stopped. Eventually, after exhausting everywhere else, they came to the last two rooms, his grandfather’s workshop and the ‘archive.’ Despite its grand name, the archive was little more than a closet filled with filing cabinets containing every piece of paperwork, design, receipt and the numerous other bits of paper that had passed through the lab. Searching all of it would take too long so David suggested that they search for files that might have something to do with the PMF that was kidnapping the kids. ‘I would look for something relating to chemicals, contractors, deliveries, government and transportation. Looking under PMF or military couldn’t hurt either,’ he reasoned. ‘I’ll check C, D and G if you’ll take the rest,’ Kat had already started leafing through the drawer marked C. Left with no choice David turned to the filing cabinets. There was nothing under M that helped, so he moved to the cabinets containing files labelled P-Z. Starting at P he pulled out the drawer and began scanning the contents for anything useful. Most of the stuff in P fell under the category, “Patents.” Skipping that entirely he looked for a file labelled with something beginning with PM or PR. There was no PM’s but he found one file under PR. Pulling it out he checked the label attached to it. ‘Huh?’ He frowned at the nonsensical label: “Probability Engine.”            

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

005%

For once as he approached his grandfather’s lab David’s heart was heavy. Though he refused to consider the possibility what if the lab was related to the disappearance of all those children? A tiny voice in his head was whispering that it might be true and it was setting his nerves on edge.

David tugged at the scarf wrapped around his neck. The foreign feel of the object was irritating but it to hide the bruise he’d gotten last night. He had been surprised when he looked in the mirror after returning home and had seen the ugly mark. He didn’t own a scarf himself and had to borrow one from the landlady, who thankfully, hadn’t bothered to ask him questions about the prominent bruise. Now though he had a big pink fluffy scarf wrapped around his neck that had little tassels on the end. It was the only scarf she had.

Arriving outside the lab, he checked the time on his phone. The display read 9:00. He had arrived early… the time that his… ‘What is she?’ David wondered.

He wanted describe them as partners, she suspected his grandfather’s lab of foul play and he was just trying to show her she was wrong. So what then? Co-conspirators? That didn’t seem right either, since they may be up against an actual conspiracy. Co-investigators then?

Well whatever they were to each other, Kat had set the meeting for 11:00. While David was the type to be punctual, being this early was out of the norm for him.

It certainly had to do with this morning.

“…no son of mine!”

He gritted his teeth as he remembered the dream… no the memory he had seen this morning. Running into Michael Blunt had definitely not helped. While he had tried to rest when he got home the emotions swirling inside of him had driven him to arrive early.

“…no son of mine!”

There was a dull ache in his head but he ignored it, compared to the ferocity of his usual headaches this was barely a twinge.

A can clattered to his feet causing David to start, his glasses slipping down his face. Looking around to see where the can had come from, he saw a hand waving from a second floor window of the house opposite the lab. If it weren’t for the fur lined sleeve the hand was sticking out of he would have assumed it was beckoning someone else but he recognised that arm…

After all it was the one had that nearly killed him only twelve short hours ago. The one that had least tangentially caused him to be wearing the hideous pink monstrosity wrapped around his neck.

‘I must be insane…’ David muttered as he realised that seeing the offending limb was a source of minor relief. It gave him something to do besides sit and stew about… everything.

Quickly trotting across the street he knocked on the door of the house he’d seen the hand from. When there was no response he tried the doorknob and it opened easily. Though he was rather against the idea of entering a house without express consent of the occupants, he nevertheless entered. If the girl, Kat, was in the house he had to assume that the owners were at least aware that he might be visiting them.

He hadn’t considered the possibility that the owners weren’t there at all.

Yet that was the only conclusion he reached when he entered the house and found it dark and empty. There was furniture and everything one would need in the house in order to live comfortably but you could tell by the thin layer of dust that the house hadn’t been occupied for at least a fortnight. Looking around on the walls there were a number of pictures, a bunch of different people in a variety of places. One thing they all had in common was that there was a tall, muscular man with myriad scars on his face and long black hair streaked with white and strong features. Was that the owner?

It felt odd to see someone’s life lain out on the walls. The man in a dark suit posing near Big Ben with a bunch of other similarly dressed people, the same man standing off to the side in a wedding picture, the man much younger and without scars dressed in army fatigues, standing somewhere in a desert. Possibly Afghanistan or Iraq? Something about it was odd though… there were no pictures of the man with family…

‘Hmm…’ David murmured. He quickly remembered that he was not there to investigate the owner of the mysteriously empty house but rather sought to see a potential interloper. Not that he was really one to talk though.

Just past the kitchen/living area he’d found himself in was a set of stairs up the second floor. When he climbed the stairs he noticed that like the first floor everything was layered with dust however there were clear signs of movement up here. Kat seemed to be basing all of her activities up here…

Looking back he could see a thin trail leading to and from the front door, so it didn’t seem as though she’d infiltrated the building from the second floor. Still that didn’t mean she hadn’t broken in.

Wandering down the second floor hall there were a number of rooms, however all the doors were firmly closed.  Near the front of the house though he came across a room with an ajar door, inside he could see Kat lying prone on the floor, something like a periscope pressed to her face. He assumed she was using it to observe the lab opposite them… He would have considered this behaviour a sure sign of paranoia if it weren’t for what he’d seen last night.

He still remembered the sight of her skin all the colours except the one it should have been, evidence of the beating she had received when their adversaries had attempted to remove her from the picture.

Remembering it David found himself think had he had not been too blasé. He’d just walked to the lab without giving thought to the possibility that he may have had a tail. What if he was followed? What if he had been followed since last night? They would know where he lived, they would know where Chloe lived! He hadn’t locked the door when he left her house, what if after he left they had stole in and… stole her?

‘Now you’re sounding paranoid,’ David muttered to himself. However he couldn’t stop himself from checking his phone to make sure there had been no messages left for him.

Satisfied, he took a moment to compose himself before he entered the room letting out a brief greeting.

‘You’re early,’ was Kat’s response. Followed quickly by, ‘Your scarf looks stupid.’

If it had been anyone else, David might have considered this rude. However considering the last time they’d met she greeted him by slamming him up against a wall he felt this was a marked improvement.

‘It’s your fault I’m wearing it,’ he complained, under his breath. He didn’t want to give her a reason to repeat last night’s performance. ‘What are you doing here so early? We shouldn’t be meeting for another hour and fifty-three minutes. Approximately anyway.’

‘That was approximate?’ she said incredulously. ‘Besides you’re one to talk.’

‘I was… unable to sleep.’ Strictly speaking it wasn’t a lie; he just left out the bits that were really none of her business. ‘What is your excuse?’

Kat let out an annoyed sigh and lowered the periscope thing she was holding. ‘Recon,’ she said easily, flipping over onto her back. David was surprised to notice that Kat had dark shadows under her eyes that nearly matched his own. She’d been awake all night? She had not looked this bad last time he’d seen her.

‘Want me to take over… you could get some sleep…’ he said timidly. Showing care to someone who wasn’t his sister or grandfather was a foreign feeling. Not an altogether unpleasant one though.

‘Nah, I’m fine,’ Kat was unable to stifle a yawn. ‘Maybe a bit tired but when I’m this close… I can’t stop now.’

He frowned. ‘I told you this yesterday but you are probably incorrect about this lab being involved with the kidnappings. At most we may find some clues to track down the PMF contracted to do the job.’ Her stubborn refusal to concede the point was rather aggravating.

Kat didn’t reply, she just waved him off. Her eyes fluttering closed. Despite what she said she was going to sleep, huh?

Or not. She sat up with a start and shook her head, trying to clear it of the muddy fog of sleep. Rubbing her eyes she let out a yawn bigger than the one before. Annoyingly it made David yawn as well, although he tried to hide it by turning his head. ‘Hah, hah! You’re tired, too~o!’ Kat sang.

‘I’m really not, however yawning is… to use a rather dire term, contagious. Seeing someone else yawn, even if it is a fake one can make others yawn. I don’t understand it fully but it’s related to empathy and the closer you are to a person emotionally the more likely you are to ‘catch’ a yawn.’

‘You talk too much,’ Kat murmured.

David frowned, he had merely wanted to amend her misconception on his current state. In fact, surely he was doing her a favour educating her on a topic she was ignorant about? Plus learning something new was stimulating, a good way to wake up as far as he was concerned.

Kat seemed to disagree as she let another yawn.

‘Oi! Talk to me,’ she demanded suddenly.

He wanted to reply, “I was,” but decided to go with the less belligerent answer, ‘About what?’

‘I don’t know… anything. I just need something to keep me awake.’

“What did you think I was trying to do,” David thought, irate. If she was this tired then it would impair her performance in their coming mission. She had plenty of time so why not sleep? Something clicked into place and he realised that she must not be aware that they would have to wait for a while before they had an optimal window to infiltrate the lab.

‘I doubt we’ll have to move until about one, so why not just go to sleep?’ he informed her with as much of a kind and understanding tone as he could muster. Kat looked at him like he’d just proposed she go streaking down the street. He did not understand what the big deal was but felt it better to change the subject as quick as possible. His throat was throbbing like an old war wound.

After grasping around in his head for a topic he settled on one that had been niggling at the back of his mind. ‘What is this place anyway?’

‘Hmm… It’s a place to keep watch, I thought that was obvious. Some genius you turned out to be.’

Ah, he was beginning to get annoyed again. What was it about this girl? She was able to push his buttons so easily. ‘I meant how did you come by it? You don’t have the actual owner hogtied in the backroom do you…?’ David cursed himself for entertaining the thought, because now he was becoming seriously anxious it might be true.

‘What’ll you do if I say they are?’ Kat asked with a mischievous smirk. If she could joke about the idea it was either not true or she was complete and total psychopath. His concerns were laid to rest when she continued, ‘I didn’t ask too many questions about it, but one of my… clients let’s say… yeah, well he gave me the keys and told me to use this place for as long as I need it. It belongs to one of his other employees and he’s overseas somewhere. I think anyway.’

‘A client, huh?’ Who would employ an under-age girl, one who was homeless and had no guardians or guarantor to provide them with a reference? What if it was that sort of thing? Namely prostitu-

David’s line of thought was cut off when Kat kicked him in the shin. ‘I get the feeling you were just thinking something really rude,’ she scowled. ‘Well whatever you were thinking was probably wrong. I make deliveries for people; it helps pay to keep the kids fed. We try not to commit any overt crimes like theft and stuff because it’ll just give the government pigs more motivation to find us and separate us. Sending us back to broken homes or their “care-giving institutions.”’ Her voice was venomous, the feral expression he had noticed on her face a number of times before appearing again. With a sigh her features loosened and she continued, ‘So most of us older kids work in some way or another… Usually it’s stuff like busking in the markets but sometimes we’re lucky and one of us, like me, gets something more akin to a proper stable job.’

‘So… what sort of deliveries? Who is this guy?’

Kat held up her hand, silencing any further questions from him. ‘Seriously, it’s better not to ask. I mean it… I don’t ask questions either. I’m just an ignorant patsy, that’s the safest way for me. Not that I think the guy would get me involved in anything too risky. Trustworthy couriers, who won’t ask a lot of questions are pretty rare. Apparently.’

David was beginning to get an idea of what sort of person this mysterious client was. Definitely not someone he would want to meet, if he could avoid it anyway. He was now rather antsy about being in this house…

Letting out a fake cough, David said, ‘My throats a bit dry I might go and get something to drink. You want something?’

Kat yawned and said, ‘Something with loads of caffeine.’

‘Aye, aye sir,’ David gave a mock salute as he exited the house as casually but as hastily as he could. Once outside and he realised he would actually have to go back inside to deliver the drink he’d promised…

‘Think about something else.’ It’s funny how when you try not to think about something it becomes all you can think about. So he found himself thinking about the sort of person who owned that house and the terrible things that may have happened in it. The human brain was truly terrifying as it could come up with images and scenes that left the blood cold.

 About ten minutes later David returned to the house, albeit reluctantly. He had a bought a bottle of water for himself and, unsure of what to get Kat he ended up buying her a double something or other iced coffee drink. Despite his love for tea, David was surprisingly weak when it came to caffeine, one time about a year before; he had drunk this particular brand of iced coffee and ended up not being able to sleep for the next 36 hours. So he hoped that this counted as something with “loads of caffeine.”

Climbing up the stairs, trying to put the things he’d been picturing from his mind and returning to the room Kat should have been waiting in he opened the door saying, ‘I’m back!’ Although when he thought about it she probably already knew that. She would have seen him walking towards the house just like before.

So he was expecting to find Kat sitting near the window, a sarcastic quip on her lips. Instead when he opened the door he found her lying on the floor, motionless.

David froze… Was it them? Had he been followed and they had taken her out. Whoever they were… Were they sneaking up behind him ready to do the same to him right now?!

He spun around but there was nothing there… Turning back he studied the body lying dead on the ground.

He quickly realised he was wrong when he noticed the soft, even breathing coming from the girl. He let out a sigh of relief and decided to leave her to her nap. Not before cursing her for giving him a heart attack anyway.

Sitting down near the window he looked out, thinking he might continue the girl’s surveillance while she got some rest. He wasn’t going to lie prone on the floor and look through the window with some periscope device though. He grabbed a chair and sat it down just far enough from the window, so that he could see the lab.

Leaning back in the chair he briefly wondered what he should do with the drink. Unlike his water, he really should refrigerate the iced coffee…

‘Bugger it, I can just throw it out… if need be,’ he muttered absentmindedly.

There was a cute snuffling sound and the rustle of clothes. Looking behind him he saw that Kat had rolled over in her sleep. Her cabbie hat had fallen off and her brown hair had fanned out around her, looking almost like a veil. Her long eyelashes were fluttering slightly and her lips were slightly apart as she snored softly. He coat had fallen open, revealing her slender form.

She was rather charming and innocent like this. It was the first time David had ever realised that people had so many different faces. He had never spent much time with people other than his sister and grandfather and those he had spent time with he barely paid attention to. It was something new… ‘If only she wasn’t so aggravating,’ David sighed.

‘Huh?’ he tilted his head. If she wasn’t so aggravating then… what? His feelings couldn’t be described as love, at least not in any form he knew about it. This girl was interesting, intellectually speaking; he was learning a lot being around her. Not the kind of things he had been studying for as long as he could remember but different, more practical knowledge.

She wrinkled her face. David let out a quiet chuckle as he imagined what could have caused her to illicit such a reaction.

Deciding to puzzle out his feelings another day he turned his gaze back to the window. And he frowned.

What was he seeing? Pulling out his phone he checked the display… It said it was just past ten… So why was Eoin Parker leaving the lab?

David knew enough about his grandfather to realise that the behaviour was abnormal. Eoin would usually arrive at the lab at just past eight. He would then work in there until about one. Then he would either return home for lunch or he would prepare to greet his visiting grandson. He would then resume working when David left or when he finished eating. Apart from the rare occasions when he needed to meet someone or other about funding or patenting something he lived almost entirely within the lab.

So, the old man’s behaviour was quite clearly aberrant… However it also presented an opportunity. As far as he knew, Michael Blunt was still at home, his grandfather had left the lab and most of the other staff wouldn’t arrive until later (Eoin did not much care for forcing people to work and had something of an open door policy in that anyone could come in to work whenever they wanted). If they were lucky the only employees inside would be the security staff, Bert and Ernie.

Getting up from his chair he moved over to Kat and thought about what he should do. He was uncomfortable with the idea of shaking her awake, and shouting at her to wake up might draw attention. However when he remembered the bruises marring her skin he was loathe to prod her awake with the tip of his shoe.

‘Ah, right,’ David returned to the chair and pulled out the bottle of water he’d bought. Returning to Kat’s side he opened the bottle and then tipped it upside down letting the water pour out onto her head.

She woke up coughing and spluttering, there may have been some swears mixed in there as well but he decided to ignore it for the time being. ‘What the hell!?’ She kicked at him but David had been expecting it this time and had chosen to stand just out of her reach.

‘Apologies, but we may not get a better chance than this to conduct your investigation,’ David said reasonably. ‘So let’s go.’

‘Huh, why?’

‘Apart from a couple of security guards the lab should currently be empty. I don’t know how long that will last so it would be best if we made haste.’

There was a vein pulsing in Kat’s forehead… A feeling of foreboding descending upon him, David took a step backwards and tripped over the chair he’d placed, landing on the floor in a heap. Looking up, Kat towered above him her expression was a forced smile that couldn’t hide the malice exuding from her.

‘I meant… Why did you try to drown me?’ Ah, this was bad. Really bad, really, really bad. Emergency! Emergency! Evacuate to the nearest shelter immediately!

‘W-wait a minute-’ David tried to desperately to calm the wrathful spirit he’d just woken up. However with a cry of “NO EXCUSES!” his sternum was hit by a mighty drop kick.

Somewhere in the back of his mind David thought, “Ah, we’re going to have matching bruises aren’t we.”

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

004%

This was many years ago, before his deep-seated hatred for his father had really taken hold. David was seven years old; he came home from school with a huge smile on his face, eager to show off to his family. Opening the large wooden door he walked into the house with a spring in his step. ‘I’m home!’ he called out.

‘Oh! There’s my boy!’ the voice belonged to his grandfather, Eoin, obviously. Even back then Michael Blunt had ignored his son however at the time David had thought it was his fault. That he was not performing to a satisfactory level in his studies… That was why he was so thrilled to get home today. He wanted to show off the notification he’d brought home.

‘Grandpa!’ David called out excitedly, running over to the, at that point, spry old man. He leapt into the air and Eoin caught him spinning him around in the air as the two of them laughed.

‘Oh, my! You’re getting big, aren’t you! You’re supposed to read your textbooks not eat them, laddy.’

David laughed and replied, ‘I don’t eat them!’ It was one of those jokes that make you cringe as an adult but are somehow hilarious when you’re small.

Setting David down Eoin ruffled the young lads head. ‘So, how have you been?’

David smirked and held out the crumpled paper he’d been carrying around in his pants leg. Eoin read it over, blinked in surprise and read it again. Then he laughed, a deep throaty laugh, 'Guess you’ve got your old grandpas genes in you huh? Skipping grades already, that’a boy!’

David was almost glowing with pride, his ego growing from the praise from his beloved grandpa. The notification declared that the school had decided, “in light of exceptional academic performance to elevate David Blunt (this was before he took his mother’s maiden name) from the second to the fourth grade.”

Behind his grandfather, David saw a tall dark shape appearing on the second landing. It was his father. He had a rather sickly appearance and a frail body. His eyes had dark bags underneath them and his hair was an unkempt mess.

‘Daddy! Daddy!’ David called, running over to him. At last, his father would shine some of his paternal affection on to him. He was sure that this was what had made him such a disappointment to his father. Now though, he would be loved… Reality sure is cruel mistress. ‘Look Daddy, I’m being moved ahead two grades! I’ll be in fourth grade starting next week. Isn’t that great, Daddy!’

Michael glanced at him, one of the few times he actually seemed to recognise that he had a son. David puffed up in joy. He was sure that this was the moment. That just like with grandpa, Daddy would congratulate him, hug him and tell him that his hard work had been worth it…

Then the indifferent eyes of his father moved back to look down the hall and he continued walking down towards the combined family room and study that was set off the entryway. His voice called out from inside with warm paternal affection, ‘Have you been good, Chloe?’

‘Yah!’ came the reply from the three year old Chloe.

………

David stood at the foot of the stairs, his happy mood evaporated. His face was dark and he couldn’t even muster the energy to cry. He just thought, ‘Ah, I see… that’s how it is…’

‘David…’ Eoin had called out hesitantly.

The boy turned around and ran upstairs, shutting out everything else he entered his room and slammed the door shut. His room was bare, just a desk, a bed and a bookcase. He had no toys or fictional books. Just textbooks, study guides and many other things related to schoolwork.

Locking the door, for once he ignored his schoolwork and wandered over to his bed and collapsed on it. He let out an odd noise, somewhere between a sob and a chuckle. It should have been obvious why he would sob but why laugh? Maybe it was because he felt like he’d just got the pun to the cruel joke that was David Blunt.

Whether the odd noise was a sob or a laugh he found his body shaking as he continued to emit the noise.

…

……

………

He wasn’t sure when he went to sleep but he was aware that he had just woken up. His head hurt, even back then he had suffered from chronic headaches. He was also hungry… Deciding to sneak downstairs to the kitchen to pilfer something to eat and maybe take some medicine he swung his feet off the bed and padded over to his door.

Unlocking it, David slipped outside and continued his stealthy journey to the staircase. He was about to head down when he heard raised voices coming from ahead near the doorway.

Ducking down he peered down the stairs trying to see what was happening. Two shapes he recognised as his father and his grandfather were standing together at the door. Their faces were shrouded in shadows so he wasn’t sure what sort of expressions they were making but they were clearly not having a friendly talk. They appeared to be trying to whisper but whether the argument was so heated they hadn’t noticed the volume of their voices or the sound just carried in the silence of the house, he didn’t know. Either way their hushed voices easily reached his ears.

‘…completely reprehensible! Patty would not have wanted you to raise the kids like this!’ That was grandfather. As he was wont to do when he grew emotional he had slipped back into the Irish accent of his youth.

‘I am raising her fine.’ Compared to Eoin’s impassioned voice, Michael spoke with the calm authority of a professional debater.

‘I’m not talking about Chloe! I’m talking about your son!’

‘That abomination is no son of mine!’ Michael roared a rare display of rage from the otherwise unflappable man.

The conversation continued becoming louder and more accusatory but the words didn’t reach the ears of the person listening in above them. Turning around, a loud buzzing in his head that blocked anything else he might have heard David staggered down the hall. His footsteps were no longer stealthy but the two grown men behind him were too busy shouting at each other to notice the foot falls.

Entering his room he locked his door again and sat down on his bed.

Michael’s words echoed in his head, ‘…no son of mine! …no son of mine! …no son of mine!’

Each time he heard those words they hammered on something inside of him. Eventually it collapsed leaving him empty inside…

“No son of mine…” David repeated.

‘Guh!’ David clutched his skull as his headache got worse. It felt like iron spikes were being driven into his brain. For some reason when he concentrated on the pain, when he stopped thinking about anything else… the pain abated and eventually disappeared.

As the pain of the headache passed David found himself lying on his bed completely drained and exhausted. He was breathing hard and his heart was hammering against his ribcage. Closing his eyes, he controlled himself settling himself down by taking deep breaths and exhales.

When he had finally calmed down he opened his eyes. Eyes that, in the morning, were full of life and vigour but were now cold and dead.

 Nine years later those same cold, dead eyes opened again.

His usual headache was hammering on his brain but there was something wet on his lip. Reaching up to his nose he felt blood trickling down it and he let out an annoyed click of his tongue. He reached out to grab the tissue box sitting beside his bed next to the alarm clock... but felt nothing.

His arm fell through empty space. With a gasp he sat up… he wasn’t at home… Or he was just not the place that had ever been his home. The floor to ceiling bookshelves crammed with scientific journals and texts, the fireplace, the mantelpiece that had some family photos and a Stradivarius sitting on it.

‘No wonder I had that dream…’ David muttered, darkly.

Last night, after walking Chloe home, David had been too exhausted to walk back to his place so he had collapsed on the lounge in the study/family room that took up about half of the first floor of the two story house.

Click.

David turned at the sound and was surprised to see in the hallway, Michael Blunt himself entering the house. It was… four o’clock in the morning according to the clock hanging on the wall, faithfully ticking away the seconds. A rather unusual time to be getting home by anyone’s definition of normal.

Michael, like David, had never looked healthy. Now though it was like looking at a corpse. His sallow skin was pulled tight against his bones, his eyes were bloodshot the bags under them deeper and more prominent. His hair was turning grey and he had deep lines etched into his face.

The only sign that Michael gave that he was aware his son was standing in front of him was a slight dilation in his pupils and a slight flaring of the nostrils. Then he turned and went upstairs, his footfalls heavy and stumbling.

David gritted his teeth and, grabbing his coat, headed out the door. He would investigate the disappearances of those children and if he found out that Michael Blunt was involved… David would destroy him.

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

Major Update!

As the title says, there is a lot for us to go through so let's get right into it.

First off I want to thank Samantha Speed over at Inkitt for her review. It's so nice to get some feedback.

Second, if you haven't been following me on Twitter, you may not have heard that the next chapter is going to be another two-parter. While Inkitt will see the full release on Monday, I'll be putting out the first half of 008% on Monday and the second half on Friday here and on Deviantart.

And finally I'm going to be releasing another side story on Deviantart, this one will be canon and it will feature a character that appears in 008%. I haven't decided on an exact release date but it will be sometime before October. A tentative title for this side story is: The Angel with Clipped Wings. And... Well I don't think that's much to go on so let me share the few sentences of the side story.

When I look back, I don't remember the when or the how, I just remember the smell of charred flesh, the screaming of the victims and the excruciating pain. The next thing I remember is looking down and realising I couldn't see my arms. After that everything was a jumble of desert, gunfire, screaming and blood. It was a relief when I passed out.

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

The next chapter

Well, I've finished writing... 008% I think I'm up to. Will have to think about releasing it as a two part chapter like I did 006% because it's so long. Still lots of great stuff and a few characters I've been excited to show off will be appearing!

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

002%

Studio 1D was a small live space in West End. Since he didn’t spend much time out that way, David got lost a couple of times but luckily he’d left early and, despite his rather circuitous route, arrived fifty minutes before the time stamped on the tickets. He was surprised to find a small crowd milling around outside the studio so early… Actually that was wrong…

‘Why are there two lines?’ he wondered out loud. The two lines were roughly even and one went from just in front of the doors down the street while the other went from the doors up the street. Was there some sort of criteria for the lines? ‘And if so which line am I supposed to join?’

His question was answered almost immediately when he saw a familiar figure jumping up and down and waving at him about halfway in the line going up the street.

Signalling to the person he had seen her, he crossed the street and stepped into the line beside her as she did slight pirouette and said with a cheeky grin, ‘Took you long enough!’

She was Chloe Blunt, his little sister, though they looked almost nothing alike. Much to his chagrin, David had taken after his father and was tall with dark hair while Chloe had taken after their mother more. She was shorter, coming up to David’s chest and had large pale blue eyes and flaxen hair that had been braided down her back, her fringe flopping over her face though was held to one side with a turquoise hairpin that he had bought her a few years ago.

Even though it had only been half a year since he’d seen her last, she had changed a lot. She’d grown a bit and her figure had filled out. Even the baggy parka she was wearing couldn’t hide the curves under her clothes. The dull grey parka ended just above her thighs and the only sign she was wearing anything beneath it was the very edge of the short, short jeans that had peeked out when she’d done her spin.

Puffing out her chest she present herself in a ‘look-at-how-much-I’ve-grown’ way.

‘You’ve really grown up, huh?’ he said patting her on the head.

‘What? That’s all?’ she puffed out her cheeks as a sullen look appeared on her face.

‘Uh,’ David scratched his head as he thought. What was he supposed to say in these sorts of situations? Suddenly remembering a classic trope from TV shows David said with a monotone delivery, ‘Did I make you wait long?’

And then the other person would say something like, No I just go here myself.

‘Yes! I was sooo bored!’ Chloe cried dramatically.

‘Was that the line?’ David replied automatically.

His little sister started laughing so he had to assume he’d done something right… He had no idea what it was though.

Appeased, she beamed at him and grabbed his arm, pulling him in closer beside her. ‘You’ve been mean, Dee-Dee. Not coming to see me for so long…’ she said with an exaggerated pout.

David cringed at the childish nickname as he apologised. Even if he knew she was just playing with him, Chloe had the unique talent to make him feel guilty for anything.

‘Do you know when we go in?’ Chloe asked, looking up at him.

‘Ah…’ He pulled out one of the two tickets and double checked the time on it before answering, ‘It says eight o’clock, on the ticket.’

‘So, another fifteen minutes…’ David frowned and checked his watch. It said 7:15 , so that shouldn’t have been right. Chloe answered his question before he could ask it though, ‘People who pre-bought tickets get let in half an hour early. Doors open publically at fifteen minutes to.’

‘So that’s why there is two lines,’ David realised.

Chloe nodded. ‘Since they only allow a certain number in at a time, pre-buying tickets is the only way to make absolutely sure you get in. Plus you get to set yourself up wherever you want, so the good spots to watch are usually filled before the people who just fronted up get in.’

‘Seems like a fair system to me,’ he commented briefly. ‘The name needs some work though.’

‘What, Studio Indie’ Chloe asked.

‘Huh?’

David could see the sign above the live space from here and it clearly said Studio 1D. When he pointed it out Chloe explained, ‘It’s kind of a joke. Like a play on words or something. I mean the number one looks like an “I”, right? And you spell one, o-n-e so it’s Indie but written as one-dee.’

Letting out a sigh, he decided to change the topic, ‘Gramps says you are really into one of the bands playing here? Who are they? What kind of stuff do they do?’

Chloe, who had been looking a bit bored a moment ago, quickly came to life, her eyes glittering. The change was so sudden David took a step back despite himself. ‘It’s not really the band as a whole I like but the singer, her name is Crystal Sky, but that’s got to be a stage name or something right? I first heard her when she did the theme song for that movie and she has such a beautiful voice and when I researched her I saw that apart from being a solo artist she’s also the singer for this band called Myriad Color. Because she’s American it’s spelled without the “u” in colour because that’s how they spell it. Anyway she’s totally amazing her voice is all sort of soft and delicate but it’s like so strong and you can really feel all the emotion she puts into her songs and it’s absolutely captivating and-’

Chloe continued talking like that non-stop. Rather than saying she was into this Crystal… person it was probably more accurate to say she was obsessed. David didn’t listen to much music so he couldn’t really judge what was good or bad. The way his sister was practically salivating as she talked about this person, he had to assume she was at least half-way competent as a performer.

Luckily he was spared from the never ending tirade of information when the line started moving to let people in. Letting out an excited little squeal Chloe jumped up and down trying to see how long it would be before they were let in.

David looked around as he scratched the back of his neck. Those weird prickles… Was someone watching him? The sensation quickly abated and he put it out of his mind as he and Chloe made their way inside.

 The interior was a lot different then what he had imagined. It reminded David more of a hall then what he had imagined a live studio would look like. There were few lights, what was there was aimed at lighting up stage with some lower, mood lighting around the corners of the room. The stage was a wooden platform that came up to Chloe’s waist. The only thing that was like he had imagined was the sound system. Two enormous speakers one at each end of the stage with a number of smaller ones spread out between them. There was some seating at the extremities of the room for people who got tired of standing that looked like they  had been taken from a picturesque French café.

All in all it was rather… neat. Nothing like the neon coloured, epileptic fit inducing mess he’d been expecting. When he mentioned that to Chloe she laughed at him so hard she was having trouble breathing.

‘Were you seriously expecting some kind of seedy night club, Dee-Dee?’ she asked when she finally got herself under control. ‘And you really thought that sort of place would let in a twelve year old girl and her sixteen year old brother?’

David pouted as she started laughing again.

After what seemed like ages to the young man being made fun of his by his little sister, things seemed to be about to start. The lights dimmed slightly before coming on brighter and four… unique people walked on stage. Until then David did not know that it was possible to describe something as emo-punk and fruity at the same time.

They had on heavy make-up reminiscent of that band, Kiss. Their clothes were all studded leather and chains but they were brightly coloured in yellows, pinks and reds. It certainly had an impact… one way or another.

‘These aren’t the people you’re here to see are they?’ David asked Chloe in whisper.

Luckily Chloe looked just as dumbfounded as he was and she shook her head.

One particular character that had a weird, peacock-esque thing in his hair stepped up to the mic, grabbed it violently and shouted, ‘WE ARE “DEAD RAT EXPRESS!” AND WE ARE HERE TO ROCK YOUR FUCKIN’ MINDS!’

‘…………’ You could have heard a pin drop as everyone in the room tried to make sense of… everything.

Unperturbed by the silence that met his announcement the lead singer continued, ‘Our first song tonight, is about watching the girl you like, go out with some jack ass. It’s called… Shit Stains.’

The person at the back who was sitting behind a drum kit shouted, ‘One! Two! Three!’

Immediately a wall of noise assaulted the room. If forced to describe the music someone might say it was a mixture of heavy metal, screamo and techno funk. David, turning paler by the second grabbed Chloe’s arm and shouted into her ear so she could hear him over the cacophony, ‘I need to go to the toilet. I’ll be right back.’

She nodded, still mute from shock.

Making his way through the small crowd in the hall, he noticed that everyone had the same expressionless glaze on their face as though their brains had shut down unable to cope with what they were seeing and hearing.

For some reason though, he got the feeling this was exactly the reaction Dead Rat Express was looking for.

 Entering the men’s bathroom, David pulled a box of headache tablets from his pocket and popping two of them into his mouth swallowed them following them with a few mouthfuls of water from the tap. Probably not the most sanitary thing he’d ever done but he’d need it to survive the night, especially if all the acts were going to be like Dead Rat Express.

David cursed the old man who’d forced him to do this as he prepared himself to return to the caterwauling that awaited him outside.

As he turned to leave though he was surprised to find himself, despite his effort to walk through the door, pressed up against a wall. It took him a few seconds to realise that someone’s hand was covering his mouth while their other arm was pushing into his throat. His eyes wide David tried to let out a scream but couldn’t manage much more than a muffled whimper.

‘How the hell did you get out of there? Who the hell are you?’ someone shouted at him. For some reason the voice was vaguely familiar, not one he knew well but it was stirring memories in the back of his mind making him realise he’d forgotten something… Looking down he saw the person assaulting him was a girl with brown hair, wearing a dark blue coat. He only recognised her though when he noticed the cabby hat sitting on her head.

That was right, he’d gotten side-tracked when he started questioning his grandfather about why his father was working at the lab now… but when he was entering this girl had grabbed him and said something to him. She had looked serious before now though… behind the fury screwing up her features he thought he saw something like fear.

‘What the hell did you bastards do to my family!?’ she roared.

[theprobabilityengine-blog]

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Despite owning the laboratory, the old man tended to only use a small room near the back of the building that was about as large as David’s flat. It looked even smaller though since it was crammed full of workbenches, covered in papers, books, chemicals equipment and various other objects in the process of being pulled apart or put back together.

The only clean part of the room was a tea table set near the door that had a kettle and two battered cups sitting on it. David was leaning against the door, picking at a scone smeared with jam and cream while the kettle let out a plaintive whistle as it boiled.

‘You “met someone?”’ Eoin Parker repeated, his eyebrow arching incredulously. ‘You?’

David grimaced at the misinterpretation of his words. ‘When I say I met someone, I mean there was this girl that I ran into coming in here.’

The water finished boiling; Eoin grabbed a couple of tea bags from a tin sitting on a shelf bolted haphazardly to the wall and began making the tea. ‘So do I hear wedding bells? The pitter-patter of tiny feet perhaps?’ Eoin asked.

It was only when he saw the smirk on the old man’s face David realised he was being wound up. ‘She just grabbed my arm right outside and said something weird… Like I shouldn’t come here if I wanted to live…’

Eoin shrugged, ‘Even in today’s information society there are still people who see scientists as mad men playing at being a god. Usually they’re religious zealots or humanitarians up in arms over the use of stem cells.’ He was clearly not too concerned about this person though.

‘I would have thought their type would go for larger more public stunts then grabbing people walking into the lab and telling them not to,’ David murmured. ‘Thank you,’ he added as he was handed the cup of tea. Lifting it up he smelled it, enjoying the aroma before placing it against his lips, letting the scalding hot water creep into his mouth and down his throat.

‘Yes, however not everyone fits into the statistical average. It’s that bothersome little thing called freewill which stops us from being able to perfectly predict human behaviour,’ the old man walked over to the workbench at the back of the room, and placed his tea cup down onto a plastic box that had a bunch of rats running around in it. He then sank down into his chair and let out a sigh.

‘You know I could have got the tea,’ David scowled noticing the brief flash of relief that had crossed his grandfather’s face.

‘This is my lab and you are my guest. What kind of host would I be if I made you fetch your own drinks? Just because my body is getting frail doesn’t mean I need some little pup like you worrying after me.’ Eoin let out a cough before switching gears and continuing the conversation, ‘Of course, this is all assumptions. For all we know perhaps she was just some crazy person or one of those… what do you call them? Pranksters on the rude-tube?’

‘Youtube,’ David corrected automatically. ‘Although she didn’t appear to be crazy and I don’t quite understand the prank behind threatening to kill people if they enter a building…’

‘Eh? She what?’

‘Huh?’

The two looked at each other confused.

‘Well… it was a threat wasn’t it? Enter this building and you’ll die. That’s clearly a threat… right?’ David asked scratching his head.

‘The way you told me the story I thought she was delivering a warning. As in if you enter here something will befall you and you will die…’ the old man said, spinning his chair around lazily. ‘Can you remember the exact words she used?’

Closing his eyes he thought back… He’d been distracted by the car space for his father then… ‘Ah, that’s right! What’s that man doing here?’ David said, the matter of the mysterious girl already fading from his mind.

Eoin scratched his nose, looking like a little kid that had been caught in a lie. ‘Ah, you noticed that, huh? Well apart from your dislike of the man there really is no reason to refuse to let him work here. Plus his accomplishments bring a certain amount of prestige to the lab.’

‘Not to mention a large funding increase,’ he added under his breath.

‘Money? Is that seriously it?’ David asked, unable to hide the disgust in his voice.

‘You have to understand that my own funds only stretch so far and the government grants I get from allowing students to work and research here is mostly used to equip and provide for them. It makes working on my own research hard, especially when I really, really want to construct a listening device that might be able to detect sounds of life on distant planets,’ Eoin whined, making big puppy dog eyes.

‘Also there are… other reasons it’s good to have him around.’ If David wasn’t so busy scarfing down the remainder of the scone in a huff, he might have noticed the dark look that momentarily flashed across his grandfather’s face. By the time he looked back though, his smile had returned and the old man was saying, ‘Like seeing my granddaughter more often.’

With an exaggerated, ‘Oh!’ and a fist tap on his palm  Eoin got up from his chair and shuffled over to a small cabinet set between two desks with a something that looked suspiciously like the dish off of a military satellite perched precariously on top. Opening it he reached in and took out two small scraps of paper.

‘I just remembered that there was a favour I wanted to ask of you…’ the old man said slowly handing him the two scraps of paper. While Eoin returned to his chair his grandson looked them over.

They were tickets, poorly made tickets but tickets nonetheless. They said the name of a small live space somewhere in West End, as well as a time… 8:00pm – 12:00 am. Apart from that there was nothing of note about them.

‘What are these?’ David asked.

‘Tickets to a live show, Chloe loves one of the bands performing in it. I’m hoping you could escort her.’

David shut his eyes, picturing what he thought was a stereotypical live show. Flashing, strobing lights, hot, sweaty people grinding against each other while some horrible screeching racket blared from oversized speakers. He got sick just thinking about it.

‘That’s…’ swallowing the words that were about to come out of his mouth he thought about it some more.

If David or a trustworthy chaperone didn’t go, Chloe his sweet little sister might be taken advantage of. Picturing an older man leading her along, drugging her and… his vision went red with rage. Letting out a breath along with the murderous rage that engulf him he said instead, ‘I don’t think that’s my scene… Perhaps you could take her?’

Eoin scoffed loudly. ‘What you think it’s mine?’

David tried to imagine his grandfather there and instantly the place became a murder scene with screaming and panicking patrons. The battered, shattered body of the old man lay on the ground, limbs twisted at weird angles while Chloe cried in the corner. He had to admit that wasn’t much better.

‘If you won’t do it for me, do it for Chloe. You haven’t seen her in ages and she misses her big brother. Since you won’t stop by the house and Michael watches her like a hawk when he’s not working this should be a good chance for you two to spend some quality time together.’

Chloe…

David let out a sigh. Even though he hated loud, flashy events, especially when it meant having people intrude on his personal space because way too many had been crammed into an extremely finite space. However for Chloe he might be able to manage it, if he at least had a couple of days to prepare himself mentally… Speaking of the tickets didn’t have a date on them…‘Alright, okay, I’ll go but what day is it this only has a time?’

Gramps stuck his tongue out and replied with a ‘tee hee,’ ‘Tonight!’

‘I hate you old man.’