Dark Dawn - Part 3

December 30 15:55, Auckland


Sir Henry Coombes was sitting alone in the Systemax boardroom, at the head of the table of course, backlit by the brilliant harbour panorama behind him. Robert came in, pausing short of the opposite end of the table while his eyes adjusted.

"Well, done, Robert," said Sir Henry without looking up.

"So far, so good. I don't know how you called Anita off."

"Doubt is a powerful debilitator, especially in a woman."

Robert stood at the opposite end of the long, polished table.

"Trouble is, I think she's right," he said straight to the silhouette.

With a low swing of his head, Sir Henry fixed his bright, glowering eyes on Robert.

"I've got a legal opinion, and insurance advice that says we can probably survive it so long as we've done everything practicable to warn people."

Robert had neither opinion nor advice, just a sense that there was something more to this. For the first time in his life he was willing to cheat a little to find out what his chairman knew.

"You've what!" Sir Henry stood up.

"If any of our Renegade chips are embedded in Y2K-compliant systems and then self-destruct some time in the future, our only hope is to have done all we could to try to prevent it."

Sir Henry sat again. He studied the face of his chief executive. It was serious, set, all working through the problem. Percentages, probabilities. No, Robert couldn't bluff. He didn't understand all or nothing - if he had, he would have never lost Anita to Greenback, Sir Henry judged. Yet, Sir Henry couldn't afford to have the chip problem widen any further. He needed Robert to close it down once and for all.

"Sit down, Robert, and I'll tell you what happened to those chips. But on one condition - that I have your solemn word that after this you drop it."

"Of course," said Robert.

He sat down and listened as Sir Henry recounted the history of Deal II as he called it. Known only to himself and the deal's instigator and beneficiary, one William "Greenback" Jones.

Sir Henry explained that William had taken it on himself to sell the second but reserve batch of EPIC chips to "the other side", as it was then - a Soviet industrial conglomerate with military industrial links. Sir Henry had been astounded as to how Greenback had unearthed these contacts, but suspected it was through his peace movement, hippy days and some local Russian communists that he used to drink with in Auckland.

"By the time I discovered this, the chips were gone and William had pocketed the money. I decided that, in the interests of the company and of preserving the secrecy on our little deal to sell the first batch of EPIC chips to the Pentagon, we couldn't afford to stir things up. Our US business would have folded, and I couldn't take that risk. Shortly after, when Anita and Greenback walked out on us, I thought about telling you."

Robert stared at the varnished wood grain in the table in front of him, trying to distill a feeling, a reaction.

"I'm sorry, Robert, but I took the decision that it was in Systemax's best interests not to tell a soul. That's why I could be so categorical with Anita."

"So Anita was right. The second batch did go out. Those chips could be anywhere: in missile silos in North Dakota, in nuclear submarines?

"Only if you assume that Soviet intelligence has capabilities equal to its US counterparts - and there's no fear of that. At worst, they're in a beer factory in the Ukraine, but they're probably lost on a railway siding in Siberia, or turned into avant garde earrings at a Moscow street market. The point is they're not in our power grid, nor Sydney airport, nor anywhere that can be traced to us."

Robert's right knee began to bounce. He spread his palms out on the immaculate table.

"There's something else I haven't told you," Sir Henry said. He got up and moved round to the chair next to Robert's. With his gravelly voice, he laid out as grandly as possible his Silicon Valley deal. Systemax sold to one of the world's electronic giants. Bigger opportunities globally for them all. A big new ballgame for Robert and his talented team. Sir Henry shared the pride, the achievement, pouring out credit for Robert's guidance of Systemax over nearly 20 years.

"That's why we can't afford to let anything jeopardise this, Robert. This is exactly the kind of thing the poor old kiwi economy is crying out for."

Robert's mind exploded with questions, but they were trivial details he didn't need. He had been thrown off balance, like someone discovering his true parents or secret history. This business that was his life ... yet it turned out to be something altogether different to what he thought it was.

"I know it's a lot to take in, Robert, but I have your word?"

Robert nodded without speaking. Sir Henry left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Nearby, a siren wailed as a police car raced to an emergency. What? Robert wondered. Theft, domestic violence, road accident ... disaster - natural or manmade?


December 30 15:57, Northland


Greenback made himself a green tea and went to sit quietly on the veranda. Anita wasn't such fun when she didn't trust him. He resented her suspicion. He felt angry that the truth might be uncovered. All he had done was to balance the equation. The Americans wanted to plant programmable chips to destabilise the communists. It was only fair to let the Russians reciprocate. Make everything equal. Make acceptable the first deal that Anita detested so much.

Of course he couldn't tell Anita. She would have said: "two wrongs don't make a right," or something equally inane. The universe was good and evil. You had to appease both spirits. That's what he had done.

Splitting the money with Henry had just been a practical arrangement. It saved complicating things with Robert and Anita. He'd been generous with his money. A new school swimming pool in the neighbouring town. He'd created a trust for people in the district with mobility difficulties, and provided them all with computers and an internet connection. He'd lived quietly and properly. Cut down on the drugs. This was all part of the truth. But he knew she wouldn't see it that way. It would come down to what had been unseen, not what was seen.

As he stared out over the green hills, Greenback couldn't shake the feeling that a period of his life was coming to an end. It was a strange stillness, a calm. The telling of secrets always marked the end of an era. New Zealand was starting to feel too small. He thought about his elaborate millennium preparations, the old barn he'd converted into a Y2K-proof habitat. It had been a worthwhile project in its own right - recycling water, creating solar power, becoming self-sufficient.

But the most important things about self-sufficiency was something else. It was being able to pack a small bag of belongings and leave - go anywhere, at a moment's notice. Without saying goodbye, without a care. He'd got too settled. He needed to stroll. But he wasn't going to let that fat cat Coombes slide away and lay Deal II on him.

He went out to his office in the Y2K-proof barn. He unlocked a black steel file cabinet and took out a letter, identified by the medieval letterhead of the Industrial Corporation of Ukraine. Very faintly at the top was the fax number from the Soviet embassy in Wellington, which had helped find the right purchaser, and had been remarkably deft at ensuring the arrangements were as low key as the original Renegade deal had been on the American side.

He scanned the letter into his computer to e-mail to Robert with a brief covering note: "Greetings, old buddy. The original is coming by courier. For me it was a yin yang thing, but for Coombes it was the buckeroos, or perhaps the whispering behind the choir stalls, I can never tell with that freak.

"I blew my stash mostly on kids and cripples, but I suspect if you check Coombes' offshore accounts you'll find what's left. Try Bank Polo in Zurich, they handled the Kremlin's end of things.

"What I've had with Anita's been good, hard as that may be to accept, but she won't be able to handle this. I guess it's the end now. Happy New Year. I hope you packed your bucket!"

Greenback compiled a damning dossier that even Sir Henry would have trouble explaining. Documents that put Sir Henry at the heart of Deal II which defrauded his own company and business partners and now threatened wider chaos.

He sent the e-mail, stuffed a few clothes, a couple of passports and his lucky chip into a kitbag, slipped on his sandals and walked out of the door. First stop: the courier agent in town.

It was a gorgeous day, and the toi toi beside the road shone in the sun. A new path was enthralling once embarked upon, no matter how long or uncertain.


* Part Four tomorrow.