Project Venom Read online

  They both continued to watch for several minutes, motionless and in silence. Their electronic brains sorted through terabytes of data, alert to everything going on below them simultaneously.

  “Approaching the Air Weihan desk!” signalled Sirena suddenly. “Face recognition is flagging up a passenger!”

  “Who is it?” said Morph.

  “Double-checking with SIA and MI5 databases…” said Sirena. “It’s the Sales Director of Smith-Neutall, Peter Seede.”

  “He’s already been interviewed by MI5, hasn’t he?” said Nero.

  “They classified him Low Risk. He doesn’t have the technical or scientific knowledge to handle the Venom. We already know that his schedule shows a business trip to Thailand today. It was booked eleven weeks ago, long before the Venom was even created.”

  “He doesn’t sound like our terrorist,” said Morph.

  “Scans of his luggage show nothing unusual. I would only have logged his presence, and let headquarters know we’ve tracked him, except for one thing – my sensors show he’s very nervous indeed.”

  “Is he scared of flying?” said Nero.

  “Accessing personnel and interview files…” said Morph. “MI5 assessed him as arrogant and ambitious, with normal intelligence. He’s thirty-seven and he’s worked for Smith-Neutall for six years. He complained to the Chief Executive last year about his salary, although it’s well above average. He was injured in a car accident at the age of eighteen and lost part of his left hand. He isn’t married, has no children, drives an Alfa Romeo, is a regular at Persephone’s Italian eatery. Nothing about flying, in fact he regularly goes abroad on business.”

  “Let’s take a closer look,” said Nero.

  While Sirena fluttered in a wide circle towards the check-in desk, Nero and Morph scuttled quickly along a series of cables and conduits to reach floor level.

  Peter Seede was joining the back of the queue at the check-in desk. He was wearing a pristine blue business suit with a matching tie. He placed his small suitcase on the ground while he waited in line, pushing it along with his feet every time he moved forward. He looked around the concourse with an air of casual boredom, but one of his polished shoes kept up a rapid tapping against the floor tiles. Gradually, he edged closer to the front of the queue.

  Nero and Morph hid under the conveyor belt beside the check-in desk. Sirena alighted on the airline logo hanging above it.

  “The computers at Smith-Neutall say he’s flying to a sales conference in Bangkok, Thailand,” said Morph. “They also register a receipt for the cost of the air fare.”

  Nero made a quick check of the airport’s data. “It looks like he’s changed his plans at the last minute. This airline doesn’t fly to Thailand. Scan his ticket.”

  Sirena located Seede’s travel documents and passport in the inside pocket of his jacket. “That confirms it,” she said. “His ticket is for Shanghai in China. A flight leaving in less than an hour.”

  “See if you can get closer,” said Nero.

  The smartly uniformed check-in attendant gave Seede a bright smile. “Good afternoon, sir, may I see your ticket and passport?” she said in a clipped Chinese accent.

  Seede smiled at her and reached into his jacket.

  Sirena fluttered to the lower edge of the checkin desk, from where she could scan Seede in more detail but remain hidden from view.

  “Quickly,” said Morph. “This may be our only chance to run a close-up check on him.”

  “I’ll ignore the suitcase,” said Sirena. “If he’s got the Venom, he wouldn’t leave it to get put in the aircraft’s baggage hold.”

  “Thank you for travelling with Air Weihan, Mr Seede,” said the attendant, looking at her computer terminal as she swiped his ticket through a reader. “Do you have luggage to check in today?”

  “Just this one,” said Seede. He placed the suitcase on the conveyor belt beneath which Nero was hiding.

  “Scan active,” said Sirena. “Beginning shoes… No hidden compartment…”

  The attendant quickly slipped a tag around the handle of the suitcase. “Your flight is currently timetabled to depart on schedule, Mr Seede.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “You’ve just made it in time, we’re closing check-in in two minutes. You’ll need to hurry!”

  “Quickly!” said Morph.

  “Legs, trousers…” said Sirena. “No concealed pockets… Jacket, shirt… Nothing…”

  “Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr Seede?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Please proceed to the security gate, and have a pleasant journey.”

  “Skin surface, nose, underwear…” said Sirena. “All negative.”

  “I’m sure I will.” Seede smiled at the assistant and walked away. His suitcase bumped out of sight on the conveyor belt.

  “I’ll have to risk direct contact,” said Sirena. “If he’s got the Venom, finding it will need a high-intensity probe.”

  “Be careful!” warned Nero.

  Sirena landed delicately on the back of Seede’s jacket. Nero and Morph kept up with them, scuttling along underneath a line of luggage trolleys. Sirena recalibrated her sensors to take readings of everything from the chemical compounds in the gel on Seede’s hair to the fibres in the cotton and wool mix of his socks.

  “You say he lost part of his left hand in an accident?” said Nero. “I can see his left hand from here, and it doesn’t appear to be damaged.”

  Sirena moved to the back of Seede’s left arm.

  “Refocusing high-res imaging… He has a prosthetic section attached to his hand!” she said. “The last two fingers, and a small section of his palm. It’s designed to look natural.”

  “Didn’t you spot it earlier?” said Nero.

  “Even now, I can only detect it at the far range of my sensors. It seems to be shielded with a fake chemical signature that reads as normal flesh. Even the most sophisticated airport or other security scanners wouldn’t pick it up… There’s a shape lodged inside his little finger! The missing phial! He’s carrying the Venom!”

  Seede suddenly swatted at his left arm and frowned at the butterfly that had brushed past him.

  “I’ve been seen!” transmitted Sirena. “Withdrawing to safe distance!”

  “Send a full report to SWARM headquarters,” said Nero. “Morph and I will stay with him.”

  At that moment, a female voice echoed through the airport concourse. “Last call for Flight AW91 Air Weihan to Shaghai, boarding at Gate 12. Last call for Flight AW91.”

  Peter Seede walked calmly but quickly over to the security checkpoint. A sour-faced guard ran an electronic wand around him, then ushered him into the arched X-ray detector. No alarms were triggered and the guard motioned for Seede to continue on to the gate.

  Nero and Morph followed, scuttling along the corridor. Morph kept to the thinly carpeted floor, while Nero moved along the high ceiling, the two of them staying apart in case one of them was spotted as Sirena had been.

  “Once Seede is on the aircraft,” said Nero, “SWARM headquarters should be able to stop it leaving by raising an official alert. Seede will be trapped and the police can arrest him. Until then, we must keep track of his movements.”

  They shadowed Seede into the departure lounge. It was almost empty, as most of the passengers had already boarded the flight. The Air Weihan jet, a huge Boeing 767-300, could be seen through the enormous windows that formed one wall of the lounge. A steward was stationed at the metal tunnel which led out to the plane, hurrying the last few passengers through and collecting up their boarding passes with a weary smile. He beckoned to Seede.

  “Should we follow him on to the aircraft?” said Morph.

  “It shouldn’t be necessary,” said Nero. “He won’t be able to escape once he’s aboard.”

  “I’ll signal headquarters,” said Morph.

  Moments later, Queen Bee cut in on the robots’ communications network. “Nero! Mo
rph! How long before that flight takes off?”

  “Eight minutes until the plane proceeds to the runway for take-off,” transmitted Nero.

  Queen Bee muttered something under her breath, then said, “We can’t get the plane grounded quickly enough. There are too many phone calls to be made. We can’t use Sirena’s scans without… Anyway, it’s complicated. The only agents who can act in time are you two. You must stop that aircraft from taking off.”

  “The airport authorities would respond instantly to a bomb threat,” said Nero. “Could SWARM pretend that—?”

  “Absolutely not,” interrupted Queen Bee. “We do not resort to such irresponsible tactics. It’s our duty to protect this country!”

  “Apologies, Queen Bee,” said Nero. “I was considering the problem logically.”

  “As you’re programmed to do, it’s fine. Our actions against MI5 during their raid on Smith-Neutall broke the rules, but we must draw the line at actions that are morally wrong.”

  “Understood,” said Nero.

  “I have been computing alternatives,” said Morph. “The only way for Nero and I to prevent the aeroplane taking off is to damage its systems, or at least trigger alerts in the cockpit that would cause the pilots to delay the flight.”

  “We’ll have to sneak on board after all,” said Nero.

  “Make sure that plane doesn’t leave, especially with you on it!” said Queen Bee. “SWARM is classified above top secret in the UK. In China, the discovery of micro-robots like you would be considered as hostile espionage, or even as an act of war! The political consequences could be catastrophic. Sabotage of that plane is the only option. Get moving, time is short! Queen Bee out.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Nero and Morph hurried along the metal tunnel linking the gate to the aircraft. The tunnel was filled with cold air, heavy with the smell of fuel. The 767’s engines were already whining into life, gradually getting louder as the rotors speeded up.

  The robots, keeping well out of sight, reached the point where the tunnel met the curved outer surface of the plane. The last passengers were being hurried on board.

  “My scans show the most effective sabotage would be to the flight guidance controls,” signalled Nero. “There’s an access panel close to the flight deck.”

  The robots crossed the small gap between tunnel edge and aircraft. Inside, they clung to the ceiling. The microscopic electro-claws built into the ends of their legs allowed them to move along swiftly.

  The sound of the engines rose higher. Flight attendants bustled around each other in the confined space of the crew area. There was a steady chatter of voices as passengers took their seats and settled down for the long flight.

  Nero and Morph reached the bulkhead that sealed off the flight deck from the rest of the aircraft. At floor level were a series of grilles and panels.

  “Third panel,” said Nero. “Locate the circuit board marked ‘B2’ and disable it.”

  Morph flattened his body and squeezed through at the panel’s edge. “It’s locked with a key,” he said. “An electronic lock would be no problem, but an old-fashioned, five-lever mechanism will take time.”

  A scratchy voice sounded over the plane’s tannoy. “Cabin crew to doors and cross-check.”

  A female flight attendant swung the plane’s entrance door shut and sealed it with a twist of a lever. The sound of the engines was suddenly muffled.

  “Hurry!” said Morph. “Get in here, I need you to unscrew this plating.”

  “Working on it,” said Nero. His pincers struggled to loosen the panel. Hercules would have been able to slice through it in seconds, but Nero’s pincers were designed for more delicate tasks. He didn’t have the strength to force the panel open, and neither did Morph.

  “I can’t reach SWARM HQ,” said Morph. “The signal’s not getting through.”

  “These aircraft have systems designed to stop outside electronic interference getting in,” said Nero. “Those systems are now also blocking our signals from getting out.”

  The aircraft began to vibrate slightly. The power of the engines was increasing. Further orders crackled over the tannoy. The 767 gave a judder as it began to reverse away from the airport terminal.

  “Quickly!” said Morph. “If we don’t stop the plane taking off, our mission has failed.”

  Nero gave a sharp pull and at last the panel opened. Morph scurried out. Behind the panel was a metal plate, held in place with four tiny screws. A screwdriver head flipped out of Nero’s pincer and the first screw was undone with a lightning-fast whirr. It dropped on to the carpeted floor.

  “Three to go!” said Morph. “We have only seconds left!”

  The aircraft taxied towards Runway 2. In the cockpit, the pilots and navigator were talking to the airport’s air traffic controllers.

  The second screw was undone. Nero worked as fast as he could.

  “Quick!” said Morph. “Two left!”

  The aircraft moved smoothly out on to the runway, turning at the end of the three and a half thousand metre concrete strip to face its take-off position. The cabin crew finished demonstrating emergency procedures to the passengers, and strapped themselves in. The “Fasten Seatbelts” signs shone red. The engines rose to a roar.

  The last two screws fell and the metal plate dropped away. Morph scuttled inside the panel, scanning rapidly for the B2 circuit board.

  The pull of the aircraft suddenly increased. The passengers felt themselves pushed back in their seats. The 767 sped faster and faster along the runway.

  “Just a few seconds,” said Morph. “Circuits located!”

  “We’re too late!” cried Nero. “We’re taking off. If we interfere with the systems now, we’ll place the humans on board in danger. Remember what Queen Bee said.”

  “You’re right,” said Morph. He scuttled out and Nero closed the panel. “What should we do? If we hurry, we can still leave the aircraft before it takes off, through the landing-gear bay.”

  “Our mission has failed,” said Nero. “We are out of contact with HQ. We must think for ourselves. We need to devise a new mission. I think we need to stick close to Seede and the Venom.”

  “Despite the possible risk of causing a war if we’re detected?” said Morph.

  “None of the risks we’ll face are greater than the risk of the Venom being released,” said Nero.

  “Agreed,” said Morph. “This is a dangerous situation.”

  The 767 accelerated to take-off speed.

  Nero and Morph were completely on their own, until they could re-establish contact with SWARM. Despite their mechanical components and electronic brains, they now understood what it must be like for a human to feel afraid.

  “What?” gasped Queen Bee.

  “The security systems on board aircraft like that are very efficient,” said Professor Miller. “Nero and Morph won’t be able to signal us, and we can’t signal them. Not until they get off that plane.”

  “What about through an internet connection?” said Simon Turing. “Aircraft are online.”

  “All web traffic is routed through a single, managed server,” said Alfred Berners. “Communications would be detected. We’d risk our robots being discovered.”

  “Then they’re truly on their own, for the first time,” said Queen Bee.

  The eleven-hour flight to Shanghai was uneventful. Nero and Morph hid beneath passenger seats close to where Seede was sitting. They monitored his every move.

  He dozed for a while, ate two spoonfuls of the meal that was served to the passengers while the aircraft flew over the Caspian Sea, and listened to the in-flight radio. He complained to a woman behind him several times about her little boy, who kept kicking the back of his seat, and complained to an air steward about the snoring of a man a few rows behind him.

  Nero and Morph remained motionless throughout the journey, silently recording everything Seede did. Morph noted that Seede’s heart rate stayed slightly higher than normal, indicating his nervou
sness. The fingers of his right hand tapped constantly at the arm rest beside him, while his left hand, with its prosthetic section, was mostly kept pushed into the pocket of his jacket. He flicked through a magazine plucked from the seat-back pocket in front of him, and he flicked between the in-flight radio and movie channels, but generally he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to do anything other than restlessly wait…

  At long last, the captain’s voice crackled from the tannoy again. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will soon be commencing our descent into Shanghai Pudong International Airport. Local time is 12.55 p.m. and local weather conditions are cloudy but pleasantly warm at twenty-one degrees Celsius. On behalf of the crew, I’d like to thank you for travelling Air Weihan today, and wish you a pleasant onward journey.”

  The aircraft took another half an hour to finally glide into place at the airport terminal. Passengers gathered their things, stretching and grumbling after the long flight. Nero and Morph stayed put until the first rush was over, then quickly hitched a ride on Seede as he joined the shuffling line of people leaving the plane. Morph slid into his top pocket. Nero snipped a tiny hole in the lining of Seede’s jacket and wriggled through, staying close to the hem where he was least likely to be noticed.

  As soon as the micro-robots were off the plane, Nero signalled SWARM HQ back in London. He transmitted an update on the situation.

  “We’re all glad to hear from you again,” said Queen Bee. “You made the right choice. Stick close to Seede.”

  “Logged, Queen Bee,” said Nero.

  Seede went through Passport Control, retrieved his suitcase from the long, mechanical carousels in the arrivals hall, and walked out of the airport’s main entrance. He hailed a green and grey taxi.

  “Zhongshan Qi Street,” he said, “just off The Bund.”

  The driver gave a nod, and said something that couldn’t be made out through the chewing of his bubble gum. The taxi sped away, taking Yan’an West Road on to the elevated motorway leading into Shanghai’s smog-shrouded city centre. As the car reached the bank of the huge, swirling Huangpu River, it turned left. It passed modern hotels, and old buildings left over from the days when the city had been under European control. Across the water stood the elegantly shaped skyscrapers of Shaghai’s futuristic skyline, dominated by the Oriental Pearl Tower.