Part 12 (1/2)

'Computer b.l.o.o.d.y couch potatoes,' bl.u.s.tered Clive Kirkham, 'with Chilly sauce!'

Determined not to let his smile crack, Christopher turned to the buffet and scooped up a tray of finger nibbles. 'Vol-au-vent?' he suggested, thrusting the tray under Kirkham's nose.

The MP glared. 'There's no such thing as a free lunch,' he declared and turned on his heel.

'Christopher.'

She was approaching through the guests, and, he had to hand it to her, she certainly looked the part with her new executive perm and new dark green executive suit. was approaching through the guests, and, he had to hand it to her, she certainly looked the part with her new executive perm and new dark green executive suit.

'There you are at last, Victoria. We were beginning to wonder...' He had just seen that she was being accompanied by Desmond Pennington.

She leant in close to Christopher and whispered, 'You don't have to serve the food, you know. The students are doing that.'

He hurriedly put the tray down and saw that she was giggling.

When she was in a good mood, it was generally a cause for concern.

'I think you know Mr Pennington?' she continued.

'Desmond, you remember Christopher Rice, our Marketing Facilitator.'

Desmond Pennington, tall, suave, in his early forties and wearing a dark suit, shook Christopher by the hand. 'Victoria and I have been talking long and hard,' he said. 'Most profitable.'

'I think you'll be surprised,' Victoria said with a wink and started to usher Mr Pennington towards the podium.

G.o.d, thought Christopher, what the h.e.l.l's she done now?

BOOM, BOOM. She was tapping the microphone and nearly deafening everybody. 'Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for coming today.' She was tapping the microphone and nearly deafening everybody. 'Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for coming today.'

Christopher saw Anthony bobbing up and down with astonishment, his MC material for the event already undermined by his new boss.

'It's an auspicious day for New World,' continued Victoria.

'We always look to the future...'

Bla, bla, bla, intoned Christopher to himself. Just get on with it. He glanced around at the attentive audience. There were flashes from the cameras. It was a perfect photo opportunity. If they only knew that the woman was obsessed.

She and the Chancellor too a Chancellor who was never on site. Her eminence grise eminence grise, who issued dictums in private conference with her as if from some other plane. Or was it the computer? The Chancellor and the self-regulating technological miracle he had created seemed indistinguishable. The computer was a vessel of power, a twentieth-century grail, dispensing knowledge, but making strange demands as well. Almost mystical, thought Christopher, and he sneered as Victoria treated the machine with slavish reverence. But in the right hands, Christopher was sure that its potential could be irresistible.

He was certain Victoria was a witch of some sort. Maybe one day the papers might get hold of that, but not quite yet. He still had things to do. The Chancellor needed information and he was the one who could provide it. He had wheels in play. In the meantime, he could humour Victoria Waterfield because she trusted him. And that way he would soon have the control and position he wanted.

She was still expounding her hopes to the politely petrifying gathering. Christopher looked up at the balcony overlooking the gallery. At first he could not make out the figure standing there. It was in the shadows at the back, staring down at them. A youth wearing what looked like a school uniform. As their eyes met, the youth registered a brief second of startled recognition. Then it simply melted away into the air like a ghost.

Christopher blinked several times, unable to take in the image. The figure was too young and did not wear gla.s.ses, yet it bore a striking resemblance to that devious whiz-kid Daniel Hinton.

There was a loud burst of applause as Victoria stepped back from the microphone and was replaced by the smiling Education Secretary. Christopher listened in mounting disbelief as Desmond Pennington announced that New World University was being formally recognized by the government as a Centre of Excellence. (Enthusiastic applause.) Furthermore, it would be receiving a substantial research grant in recognition of its achievement. (Exultant cheering.) 'Good for you, Victoria,' he muttered aloud. Tut that doesn't solve your other little problem, does it!'

7.

The Watch ordy sat on the bed and edged his head round the curtain.

GHis mum was on the phone and too busy to notice. She had told him not to look, but that made it much more exciting.

It was no good her telling him that it was all over, because he could still hear the sound. Even when it got dark, he could hear it. It went on and on.

Sshp, sshp, sshp, sshp without stopping, and it was starting to make him cross. He wanted to break something or throw something. without stopping, and it was starting to make him cross. He wanted to break something or throw something. Sshp, sshp, sshp. Sshp, sshp, sshp.

He couldn't sleep either, so his mum had got cross too and shouted at him and he shouted at everything because he hated it and he could shout much louder than she could. So she started to cry.

He was looking again now, when her arms slid in behind him for a hug. He snuggled back into her long yellow hair, but she wasn't looking at him anyway: she was looking out of the boat window too.

They were still there across the water. Kate could see the two figures in yellow and green, sitting motionless on the boats at the other side of the basin to the Mananda Mananda. That d.a.m.ned tinny beat from their headphones went on and on, driving her crazy.

'No, Gordy.' She pulled him away from the window and plonked him down on the floor of the cluttered cabin. She took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. 'I told you to play down there while I'm talking.' She tugged the curtain shut and gave him a book to look at. Then she picked up the phone again.

'Sorry, Beth. Distractions.'

Her friend Beth, another one-parent family, was probably used to these phone calls by now. All Kate expected was to hear sympathetic noises from the other end of the line, but at least Beth was a listener.

'Look, Beth, they're still there!'

'Who's that?'

For G.o.d's sake, thought Kate. I've told you before. 'Two of those New World weirdos.'

'Chillys?'

'Yes, whatever they're called.' She wasn't sure that Beth believed her. Her voice had taken on a terribly terribly patient tone. patient tone.

'Now what about the police? Have you tried calling them?'

'Of course I've called the police again. And the council.

They think I'm crazy.'

'Now come on...'

'But the Chillys just vanish when anyone comes.'

There was a pause. 'I see,' said Beth.