The Blurt of Richard Davies

Chapter Thirty Four

Vauxhall has changed out of all recognition in the years since I was last here. It and the Thames frontage as far west as Battersea were one of the last areas to be comprehensively redeveloped as the Crises took hold. Though the area is now dominated by new high rise towers, closer to the east and the railway line the older brick built back streets and arches remain largely untouched. It is in this area, at a Community Canteen on a narow street named Broadway, where I'm due to meet whoever it was who blurted me. The more I think about it the more I'm sure I'm putting my head in the lion's mouth. Once there it won't be easy to get away if I need to, and if I have to escape my room for manoeuvre will be limited by the Thames to the west and the busy roads which surround the area.

These days there may be far fewer cars on London's roads, but that hasn't made them any safer. Paradoxically the reduction in traffic has allowed the remaining vehicles to speed up. Though the 50 kph urban speed limit is still in force it is all too often ignored by people desperate to get somewhere and get on with their jobs. The average speed cameras often fail due to Dragon or frazzling attacks and there are 'journey optimisation' wurdles available which allow you to drive right up to the average speed limit without falling foul of the cameras known to be working. Anyone who uses or crosses one of the capital's roads still takes their life in their hands.

Not attending this rendezvous would be the sensible choice, but it seems the reckless abandon gripping the nation has affected me as well; I'm going to go through with it.

The chances are my face is known to them, but on the off chance it isn't I'll do a walk by just in case I can spot something obviously amiss. If it is a rapidly organised set-up those who planned it may have overlooked a vital detail; one which may be a warning to me. Before gettting any closer I check my button cam is recording, then adopting the head down, world weary air of a typical Fed-ped on their way to work I take a circuitous route to the ComCant.

I turn left into the Broadway from Parry Street; surreptitiously noting every detail of the scene. At once my hackles rise: All is not right here. My attention is drawn to a credder gang working further along the road, nearer to the rendezvous. Could they be the problem? Taking a closer look I see they've set up some plastic barriers out on the pavement next to their van as well as a pop-up shelter, but they've not actually begun to do whatever it was they were supposed to be doing. That's strange; most credders - especially those involved in lower value grunt - are in a hurry to get their task finished, no matter how adversely that affects the quality of their workmanship, and be credited for it; so why are they just standing about doing nothing? And what exactly are they supposed to be doing there? It isn't immediately obvious; again that is unusual. Most credding is low skilled and has an obvious purpose. Here they just seem to be waiting for something to happen or someone to arrive...

Yes; at least one of them appears to be a look out and suddenly they all seem to be taking an interest in me. As I look again at the lead watcher and our eyes meet I notice he and the other credders are wearing brand new uniforms, unmarked and devoid of insignia; not of the usually issued type. There could be a logical explanation for that but they appear to be too well fed, too well built, for your average cred serf; they seem to lack some intangible authenticity. That, as well as their almost identical military style haircuts and obvious unity of purpose are telltale signs. With a sinking feeling I realise I'm walking into a trap.

A mnemonic from my security briefing comes to mind; "If in doubt, get out!" I turn to leave only to see two more burly men in identical overalls walking toward me. One of them is reaching inside a pocket for something...

There can be no doubt now. Time seems to slow to an eternal crawl as it does in the moment when you realise you're about to have an accident and there's nothing you can do to stop it. It's during moments like these your mind feels like a passenger within your body while your subconscious survival instincts take over.