in here. A fight. Crime-scene pathologist reckons
there’s enough blood on the floor to suggest another possible homicide. Two dead
cops out there and another possible killing in here. But no body. Anyway, we got handed
this ball because it might …
might
… have something to do
with the terror attack.’
Grohl beckoned Cooper to follow him across
the floortowards a desk cluttered with wires and circuit boards. He
picked up something sitting in a plastic evidence bag.
‘And
this
little beauty is
why I thought I’d give
you
a call, old friend.’ He passed it to
Cooper. ‘Don’t worry, it’s already been dusted for prints. You can get
it out and take a look at it.’
Cooper reached into the bag and pulled out a
smooth, fist-sized piece of glossy black plastic and chrome. ‘What is this thing?
Some sort of digital organizer?’
‘Turn it over.’
He did and noted the logo on the back in the
centre. An apple.
‘This is some sort of prototype
Apple
product?’
Grohl took it back off him. Pressed a button
at the bottom and the screen glowed brightly. He slid his finger across the screen.
‘Jesus! That’s …’
‘Touch-the-screen technology. Very
fancy, huh?’
Cooper nodded. It wasn’t fancy, it was
stunning
. But he still wasn’t sure what he was doing all the way up
here this morning. There was enough work the FBI needed to be doing chasing down
whatever leads they might have on the horrific events of yesterday.
‘Jesus, Coop, even the military
doesn’t have anything near as
slick
as this little beauty.’
Grohl’s thumb found an icon on the screen and tapped it. ‘Check it out. This
is where it gets real interesting, though.’ He turned the device round and showed
him the screen. Cooper squinted at a page of text.
‘What am I looking at?’
‘System software information. Look at
the software version date.’
Cooper’s stomach did a queasy turnover
in his belly. It was showing the year as 2009.
‘And the device’s calendar is
set to 2010. You ever seeanything like this gadget? It looks like
something right out of
Star Trek
.’
Cooper shook his head. No, he’d seen
nothing as advanced as this, not even mocked-up prototypes at a gadget show.
‘Damon, it looks to me a bit like a
super-advanced version of those new Apple iPod things the kids are all asking for
Thanksgiving.’
‘Oh, and this thing is also designed
to make phone calls.’
‘It’s a
phone as
well
?’
‘Oh yeah, only … it
doesn’t connect to anything because it’s using a telecoms protocol that
doesn’t actually exist …’ His eyes met Cooper’s and Cooper
understood what word his friend was leaving unsaid and dangling in the space between
them.
…
Yet
.
Chapter 17
7.24 a.m., 12 September 2001, outside
Branford, Connecticut
Abel swung the Volkswagen Beetle into the
car park and climbed out of the vehicle, the engine still ticking as he crossed the
tarmac towards the source of the signal, a large white vehicle with wide perspex windows
at the front and back. It looked like some kind of habitation module on wheels.
Faith strode beside him. She withdrew the
handgun from the waistband of the jogging bottoms she was wearing, stolen from some
hapless runner what seemed like a lifetime ago.
‘They are here,’ she said.
Abel nodded and reached for the handle of
the vehicle’s rear door. It failed to turn. He grabbed it tighter and twisted it
hard. Something snapped softly and clattered on to the floor inside. He pulled open the
door and stepped up inside the vehicle. The RV lurched gently under his weight.
Inside his eyes picked out a mess of bin
liners and plastic bags piled down the vehicle’s central aisle towards the driver
and passengers’ seats up at the front.
And a small, yellow cubed android was
sitting on one of the seats. Big ping-pong-ball eyes batted lashes as its pickle-shaped
nose
there’s enough blood on the floor to suggest another possible homicide. Two dead
cops out there and another possible killing in here. But no body. Anyway, we got handed
this ball because it might …
might
… have something to do
with the terror attack.’
Grohl beckoned Cooper to follow him across
the floortowards a desk cluttered with wires and circuit boards. He
picked up something sitting in a plastic evidence bag.
‘And
this
little beauty is
why I thought I’d give
you
a call, old friend.’ He passed it to
Cooper. ‘Don’t worry, it’s already been dusted for prints. You can get
it out and take a look at it.’
Cooper reached into the bag and pulled out a
smooth, fist-sized piece of glossy black plastic and chrome. ‘What is this thing?
Some sort of digital organizer?’
‘Turn it over.’
He did and noted the logo on the back in the
centre. An apple.
‘This is some sort of prototype
Apple
product?’
Grohl took it back off him. Pressed a button
at the bottom and the screen glowed brightly. He slid his finger across the screen.
‘Jesus! That’s …’
‘Touch-the-screen technology. Very
fancy, huh?’
Cooper nodded. It wasn’t fancy, it was
stunning
. But he still wasn’t sure what he was doing all the way up
here this morning. There was enough work the FBI needed to be doing chasing down
whatever leads they might have on the horrific events of yesterday.
‘Jesus, Coop, even the military
doesn’t have anything near as
slick
as this little beauty.’
Grohl’s thumb found an icon on the screen and tapped it. ‘Check it out. This
is where it gets real interesting, though.’ He turned the device round and showed
him the screen. Cooper squinted at a page of text.
‘What am I looking at?’
‘System software information. Look at
the software version date.’
Cooper’s stomach did a queasy turnover
in his belly. It was showing the year as 2009.
‘And the device’s calendar is
set to 2010. You ever seeanything like this gadget? It looks like
something right out of
Star Trek
.’
Cooper shook his head. No, he’d seen
nothing as advanced as this, not even mocked-up prototypes at a gadget show.
‘Damon, it looks to me a bit like a
super-advanced version of those new Apple iPod things the kids are all asking for
Thanksgiving.’
‘Oh, and this thing is also designed
to make phone calls.’
‘It’s a
phone as
well
?’
‘Oh yeah, only … it
doesn’t connect to anything because it’s using a telecoms protocol that
doesn’t actually exist …’ His eyes met Cooper’s and Cooper
understood what word his friend was leaving unsaid and dangling in the space between
them.
…
Yet
.
Chapter 17
7.24 a.m., 12 September 2001, outside
Branford, Connecticut
Abel swung the Volkswagen Beetle into the
car park and climbed out of the vehicle, the engine still ticking as he crossed the
tarmac towards the source of the signal, a large white vehicle with wide perspex windows
at the front and back. It looked like some kind of habitation module on wheels.
Faith strode beside him. She withdrew the
handgun from the waistband of the jogging bottoms she was wearing, stolen from some
hapless runner what seemed like a lifetime ago.
‘They are here,’ she said.
Abel nodded and reached for the handle of
the vehicle’s rear door. It failed to turn. He grabbed it tighter and twisted it
hard. Something snapped softly and clattered on to the floor inside. He pulled open the
door and stepped up inside the vehicle. The RV lurched gently under his weight.
Inside his eyes picked out a mess of bin
liners and plastic bags piled down the vehicle’s central aisle towards the driver
and passengers’ seats up at the front.
And a small, yellow cubed android was
sitting on one of the seats. Big ping-pong-ball eyes batted lashes as its pickle-shaped
nose
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