The American is still gabbling on, the anxiety clear in his voice. The man in white raises a hand, silencing him. ‘All in good time, my friend.’ He nods towards Tiggy. ‘I think you were after a drink too, is that right?’
She wrinkles her nose. ‘Yes. But how did you . . . ?’
He grins again and points to the fridge, ignoring her question. ‘Maybe you’d like to hand out some water? Then we’ll get started.’
She looks disappointed for a moment, then opens the fridge and sees the rows of designer mineral water, smiles as she hands one to each of them. ‘This stuff has purified charcoal crystals in it,’ she whispers as she hands a bottle to Amelia. ‘It’s a complete mind-and-body cleanser.’
Amelia smiles back, thinking of the filthy water she’s had to boil up and purify with iodine, and wonders if this stuff is going to change her life, or just hydrate her like any other water. The consumerist world is bad enough at the best of times, but it seems even worse when you’ve lived in the places that she has. The places where people die because they don’t have essential medicines. In Tiggy’s world, people get stressed when the composition of their mineral water isn’t to their liking, and excited by the prospect of an energy boost from purified charcoal. What a lot of nonsense.
Perhaps it was a mistake to come here. Her mind keeps flitting back and forth. It’s not like her to do something so frivolous, and she’s finding it hard to adjust. It’s never been money that’s attracted her to her job.
Low-level chatter has started now that everyone has had a drink and they’re feeling more refreshed.
The man in white clears his throat. ‘OK, guys. Let’s get down to business.’ He waves his watch across the side of the white box and there’s a click as the top pops open. ‘Right,’ he says, taking a small device that looks like a Bluetooth headset out of the box. ‘Who’s first?’ He holds it up for them to see, and Amelia notices a thin metal prong protruding from the back of the piece that hooks over your ear. She’s about to ask about it when Giles stands up.
‘Me?’ He places his empty water bottle on the table.
The man in white nods, then runs a finger across the surface of his watch. ‘Hmm . . . hang on.’ He looks at Giles and grins again. ‘Nope.’
Giles blows out a breath and sits back down. ‘Right then,’ he mutters under his breath, clearly annoyed at not getting his own way.
‘Sorry,’ the man in white continues. ‘I’m afraid I’d forgotten that there’s an order here.’ He shrugs. ‘I’m just following instructions.’
‘Can you just tell us what’s actually going on?’ Redhead says. ‘I’m sure I’m not the only one getting a bit impatient.’
‘Yes. Of course. Sorry. Please bear with me. This is the first time we’ve had a group here and we’re still working it all out.’
‘So we’re guinea pigs?’ the American asks. ‘I mean, that’s fine . . . but we were promised luxury, right?’ He stands up and turns to the group, raising his palms. ‘We’re not too impressed so far, buddy.’
There’s a rumble of agreement from the group.
‘Sorry. Sorry,’ says the man in white, sounding a bit flustered now. ‘OK, first up is . . . Lucy De Marco.’ His eyes scan the group. ‘Which one of you is Lucy?’
‘That’s me,’ Redhead says with a grin. ‘Go first for what?’
The man in white holds the device aloft. ‘To get this set up. Once we—’
‘What even is that?’ Giles butts in. He steps forward to get a closer look, but the man pulls it back, covering it with his palm. ‘Are you checking how far we walk around the island?’ Giles continues. ‘Assuming this is an island – which, by the way, is very Agatha Christie and all. But could you tell us what we’re doing in here?’ He surveys the room, lets his gaze land on Tiggy. ‘We were kind of expecting a champagne reception. Weren’t we, babe? Under the palm trees kind of thing—’
‘In fact,’ Helmet-hair says, ‘perhaps you could start with your name, and why you’re here? Are you in charge of this’ – she pauses, gesturing at his polo shirt – ‘Timeo? What is Timeo? This is all getting ridiculous, quite frankly. I don’t have time to sit about in here drinking foul-tasting mineral water with a group of strangers. I have work to be getting on with, and I was assured that coming here was going to be something I’d like to potentially invest in. But so far I’m not seeing anything particularly investable—’
‘Right,’ says the American, talking over her. ‘I had to fly from Los Angeles for this. I hadn’t planned a trip to the UK this month . . . are we still in the UK? The cloak-and-dagger is getting kinda wearing.’
The man in white lays the device down on the table, then raises his hands, trying to placate them all. ‘You’re right. Of course you’re right. I thought I had the script off pat, but it seems I have some work to do. My name is Harvey. I work for Timeo Technologies, and I’m here to facilitate your day. There will be a full presentation very soon, but first, I do need to allocate you all a tracker so that we can get started. It’ll all become clear once you’re plugged in.’
‘Plugged in?’ Amelia says. ‘What do you mean, exactly?’
Harvey nods at her. ‘Don’t worry, all will be explained. First, if I could just ask Lucy to come up here and then we can carry on with the demo. After which you’ll get a full itinerary, and then – of course – some proper refreshments. How does that sound?’
There are murmurs of assent. Then Lucy walks up to him and offers her wrist.
‘Oh no,’ Harvey says, shaking his head. He smiles. ‘Your devices aren’t quite the same as mine. We’ve been trialling a few different prototypes and we’re delighted to offer you our brand-new neuro-wearable device.’ He nods at Lucy. ‘If you could move your hair back at one side.’
She looks confused.
‘May I?’
Harvey steps towards her, the device still in one hand. With the other, he lifts the hair above her left ear, holding it out of the way. Then he clips the device over her ear. ‘You’ll feel a small stinging sensation while it beds in.’ He presses firmly on the back of the ear-clip.
‘What the . . .’ Lucy starts to say, and then ‘Ow!’ She pulls away and flings her hand up to her ear. Harvey steps back from her, alarmed. ‘What did you do?’ Lucy says. ‘Take this thing off.’
Harvey shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry, I’m afraid I can’t do that.’
Lucy grabs at the device and tries to pull it off. She lets out a small squeal of pain. ‘It’s stuck. It’s actually stuck into my head. I felt it pierce the skin!’
‘Don’t worry,’ Harvey says. ‘This is just how it works. We need to penetrate the skin slightly in order to access your neural pathways—’
‘You need to do what?’ Helmet-hair says. ‘I most definitely didn’t sign up for this. I’ve changed my mind. Take me back, please.’
No one speaks for a moment, all of them staring at Lucy, waiting to see what she’s going to do next. Amelia takes a step towards her. ‘Maybe I can help?’