Page 122 of Tapeworld Induction

Sacha shook it.

Elodie had been watching the argument unfold, a Cheshire smile on her lips. Sensing calm returning to the room, she walked over to join them. “Astrid transported Talia somewhere else, but we can start in Cardinal Row. If you want to save those people, we need to know where it is IRL. And the answer is inside your head.” She ran a hand through her puke-green closely shaved hair, fingers lingering and tapping on the nape of her neck. “Since you can’t place it, I need to send you to Jeff.”

“Jeff? Is that really—”

“Now, I know you don’t like him, but he’s got the hardware to have a bit of a poke in your head.” The wide smile cutting across her face was worrying. “From my research, browsing different tape-spaces leaves traces in the body. Chemicals that we can analyse, turn into images, information we can all use. You’ve heard about dream-visualisation hardware? This isn’t dissimilar.”

“These traces, could that be how the Sleeper works?” Dylan asked, the night-time neon glow reflecting in her wide eyes. “Overwhelming the user with junk?”

“Bingo.” Elodie brought the synthtube up to her mouth for a drag, then looked at Isaak and put it down, a slight redness to her cheeks. “I must resist l’appel du vide, uh? The Sleeper delivers a powerful cocktail to keep the mind trapped in the Tapeworld. I have to be truthful. I’m worried.”

“You’re worried?” Isaak said. “We’re the ones in this bitch’s crosshairs.”

Elodie got up and walked to the window, staring out at the city. Vehicles, people, the shiny Bank district. Then, further east, the carcass of Canary Wharf, its desolate bones only visible at night-time under the glow of the neon lights across the city. Still, London persisted, despite all the shit thrown at it during the Dark Year. The city flat out refused to die.

“You’re only thinking about yourself and your merry band, Isaak. This is bigger than that. With those machines, she could cause quite the emmerdement.”

Isaak looked at her blankly.

“Massive pile of shit…” Dylan explained.

“Yes. For everyone in the Kingdom. Everyone is at risk. An army of slaves at her command… Just imagine.”

“And Talia?” Sacha asked, arms crossed.

“Jeff will help us find Cardinal Row’s location by looking inside Isaak’s head,” Elodie said. “Then, we hit it with everything we have, both IRL and in the Tapeworld. We overwhelm Astrid and Crypterra, and use the Dalí device to awaken all those people. We don’t know where Talia is, but flushing out Astrid is our best chance of finding her.”

“We can do it, guys.”

It was a line Isaak said often at London Lazarus scrums, but it was Dylan who said it now. She traded glances with him, an unspoken fear shared between them. They might not make it back, knowing what they knew now. Death in the Tapeworld equalled death in the real world…

There were so many more questions he wanted to ask Elodie, but time was slipping away from them.

“The sooner you go to Jeff, the better,” Elodie said. “We don’t know how long it takes for the Sleeper to turn someone into a sleptigrade – it would seem to vary from person to person. The volunteer from the demo tonight must have changed very quickly, unless he’d worn the device before. But we have to strike a fine balance. I don’t want you going in immediately, tipping our hand and risking losing Talia and letting Astrid slip through our fingers. You all look exhausted. Given the gravity of the situation, and the risk to all your lives, I suggest you rest up, then deal with any loose ends.”

She gave a pointed look at Isaak and Dylan. He understood the implication. Just in case you don’t make it back.

The three of them exchanged looks.

Isaak took a deep breath, feeling a little numb. “We might die doing this.”

“At least you die together,” Sacha said. “Talia’s trapped in that hell-hole.”

A flash of the memory of Astrid torturing her made his insides twist. He held back on giving them any further description of what she was going through. It would just upset them even more. “We’re going to get her back.”

Dylan’s lips were set in a tight line. She nodded. “I hope you’re right.”

“I know we will.” Isaak offered his hand to Sacha in truce.

Sacha looked him in the eyes. His anger dissolved into resolve. He shook Isaak’s hand and pulled him into a hug.

“You have me, captain.”

It was another of their frequent London Lazarus sayings, and it warmed his heart to hear Sacha say it. He’d got his teammate back.

Yet guilt rode his gut like a surfboard.

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