‘Then what? That I’d understand? You killed six people today. People who had no reason to die.’
‘They did terrible things, Anne. If you do terrible things, then you must be punished. You know that. You’ve punished yourself enough over the years, and for what?’ She laughs, but it sounds hollow. ‘You didn’t even kill the boat man.’
Amelia stares at her. ‘I was there. I pushed him . . .’
‘It doesn’t matter now.’ Merryn pulls the tub of cheese straws across the table. Offers it to Amelia.
She shakes her head. ‘Jesus. No. I’m not touching anything that’s been on this table. I saw what happened to the others.’
Merryn nods. ‘I knew you’d be safe, if it came down to this. I read your dietary preferences questionnaire that I sent out with the invitation. No dairy.’ She takes a bite of a cheese stick. ‘These really are good, you know. You don’t know what you’re missing.’ She shoves the rest in her mouth, then starts on another. ‘Jago’s pathetic “I don’t eat” thing presented a problem, but it gave me a chance to try out my new toy. The tasering was quite a thrill. I’m on Prototype III, by the way. I have a chip embedded in my skull. I’ve been monitoring my own brainwaves and I’m close to achieving what I wanted. To remove chunks of memory without affecting the flow of everything else. So close. Such a pity. All the data are safely stored though.’ She grins, taps the side of her head again. ‘All linked to your own biometrics, of course.’ She takes another bite of the cheese stick, then looks down at the remaining piece, turning it over between her fingers. ‘I modified a cyanide analogue. Normally it’s instant death with that stuff, but I was able to tweak it. Lost a few rodents along the way, but I don’t think anyone is crying over a few dead rats . . .’ She coughs.
Amelia looks on, horrified. ‘Merryn, no . . . don’t do this . . .’
Merryn coughs again, and a spray of spittle shoots out of her mouth. Her face is already turning pink. ‘Too late.’ She continues to cough. ‘There was always a Plan A and a Plan B.’ She falls forward, grips the table. Manages to twist her head to the side. Her eyes are bulging now. ‘Plan A was the one where you thanked me for being a friend . . . where you told me you wanted to stay here with me.’ White foam spurts out of her mouth. ‘Plan B is the one where you need to deal with it all alone.’
Amelia throws herself forward, grabs Merryn by the chin. ‘Merryn, no,’ she says again. ‘Please, you must have an antidote for this. I don’t know what you mean. Deal with what? I don’t know what you want me to do.’
Merryn smiles one last time as her head falls backwards, her eyes rolling up into white. ‘Goodbye, Anne.’
Amelia
Emily, one of the waitresses from earlier, appears, carrying a tray with a bottle of brandy and several glasses. Following close behind is Harvey. He gives Amelia a brief smile, then picks up the bottle and twists the cap, breaking the seal. He pours a large measure into each glass, then sets the bottle down. He slides a glass towards her, but she ignores it. Does he think she’s stupid enough to drink anything else these people are offering?
Harvey picks up a glass and drains it, then refills it. The other staff members, who have been slowly filing into the room, follow his lead. Amelia looks at them all – at the relief on their faces, at their shaking hands – and decides that maybe, just maybe, they are not all the same as their boss.
She picks up a glass and takes a tentative sip. The liquid burns her throat, seems to do something to her head immediately. It’s harsh, but then it calms down. And she calms down along with it. ‘I suppose you’re in charge now?’
Harvey offers a small laugh. ‘Nope.’
She glances around at the other staff. They look exhausted, and Amelia wonders how long they’ve all been here, carrying out Merryn’s deranged plans.
She turns back to Harvey. ‘Who is in charge, then? Is there someone else I haven’t met yet? Someone else who’s been hiding behind a screen?’
He shakes his head. ‘Haven’t you worked it out yet?’
She takes another sip of her drink, then another. Harvey leans forward and refills her glass. When she doesn’t respond, he lays a hand on her arm.
‘It’s you, Amelia. It was always going to be you.’
She shakes her head. ‘What? No. God, I don’t want anything to do with it. I don’t want to know anything more about it. I want to go home and forget all of this ever happened.’
‘You know if you stay, you can work on that.’ He gestures at the staff. ‘They’re serving drinks and clearing up the mess tonight, but these people are scientists, Amelia. Every one of them has been trained by Merryn. Every one of them has the capability to carry on the work. Well, almost . . .’
She looks around the room at the tired, pale faces. ‘What do you mean, almost?’
‘You hold the key now, Amelia. Merryn left strict instructions. You need to take her place. You need to authorise the research. If you don’t, it has to be destroyed.’
She swallows. She doesn’t want this responsibility. If all the things that Merryn claims to have developed are true, then there is a huge amount of good that could be done with her knowledge . . . and bad, of course.
‘You don’t have to decide now,’ he says. ‘There’s a package for you. Take a look on the way home. Or when you get home. Think about it for a while. We’ve got enough to be going on with at the moment, sorting everything out here.’
‘The police will help with that though, won’t they?’ she says.
Harvey shakes his head. ‘We can’t do that, I’m afraid. That’s the one thing we do need to enforce. We can deal with it all, but you need to stick to the terms of the non-disclosure agreement. You can’t tell anyone what happened here.’
‘But . . . but . . . James? And Tiggy? And Giles and Lucy and Brenda and Scott . . . they didn’t deserve this. You can’t just make them disappear.’
Emily walks over to her, carrying a box. She holds it out to Amelia, gives her a smile. ‘Thank you,’ she whispers, then turns and walks away. She sits back on one of the sofas with the others, and none of them says any more.
Amelia looks down at the box. On top, written in beautiful calligraphic script, it says:
To My Friend, Anne. Always.
The small plane feels strange without the other seats occupied. She thinks back to what happened less than twenty-four hours before, seeing those people for the first time. Beautiful, fragile Tiggy and her pretty-boy boyfriend, Giles – the games designer, the one who could have helped them the most; he’d have been able to work it all out, Amelia is sure of it. Merryn probably knew that too, which is why he’d been removed from the action as early as possible. Brenda, with her powerful life lived at the expense of all others. Lucy, with her broken heart turned to stone. And Scott, desperately seeking a cure for his own loneliness. And then there was James . . . or Jago, as he once was. Broken by his childhood, then destroyed by his half-sister . . .
She’d had an intense day with these people, making and breaking bonds, every one of them having their lives laid bare. Now all of them are gone.