The Passengers(48)
‘I don’t know.’
‘But is he definitely dead?’
‘If he’s not, then he’s a bloody good actor,’ said Matthew.
Fiona shook her head in disbelief. ‘I’ve been a barrister for twenty years and just when you think you’ve seen it all, you’re wrong.’
Until the moment Ben’s body appeared on screen, both Jack and Claire had made a compelling case for her survival. Even Cadman and his team were now caught in the moment, gawping at the screen rather than busying themselves interpreting data.
Libby noted that Claire’s eyes were like dark pools of fear as they glared into the lens. ‘Please let me explain …’ Claire began before her microphone was cut off. The television picture on the wall split into two sections, with husband and wife taking each half of the screen. Meanwhile the news channels delighted in the latest twist of their rolling news story.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said the Hacker, ‘allow me to introduce you to Benjamin Dwayne Arden, the third Passenger in Claire’s vehicle. This is the same man who, just moments earlier, his wife described as “her everything”.’
Claire appeared desperate to be heard, her fists banging against the dashboard and monitor screen, her face animated but her voice silenced. Libby’s first thought was for the well-being of the baby.
‘She needs help,’ said Libby, but no one was listening. She raised her voice. ‘Look at her, she’s hysterical. Whatever she’s done to her husband, she is still carrying a baby.’
‘Then you’re more worried about it than she is,’ said Fiona. ‘If she was that concerned, would she really have killed his father?’
‘You of all people should know there are two sides to every story. And we don’t know if that’s what happened because the Hacker muted her.’
‘Libby, I’ve defended enough clients to know by appearances alone when someone knows more than they are letting on. What on earth could she tell us that would change the fact her husband’s dead body is in her car? That whole interview with Jack was an act. She was pretending to be a victim when she’s anything but. Even Jack fell for it.’
Libby turned to Jack who had returned to his seat behind the table, red-faced and defeated.
‘Yes!’ Cadman interrupted, his face brimming with joy. ‘We’ve done it!’ All heads turned towards him as he high-fived his team members. ‘We’ve spiked. We have actually made history. This is now the most hashtagged global event since social media began. And we are dead centre in the eye of the storm!’ He looked towards each juror in search of someone who shared his enthusiasm. Their faces were deadpan. ‘Tough crowd.’ He shrugged.
His indifference towards the mood of the room riled Libby. ‘Are you actually genuine or is this a character you’re playing?’ she snapped. ‘Because I don’t understand how anyone with an ounce of compassion couldn’t be appalled by what’s happening out there. Dozens of men, women and children are lying dead and injured on our roads and all you care about is how many people are talking about it.’
‘Hey, don’t shoot the messenger because you don’t like what’s in his bag, Miss Buzzkill,’ Cadman replied. ‘What do you want from me? To pretend that I actually care about people I have never met? Because that isn’t going to happen. This is what my team and I are here for, to tell the truth and represent the people, not to hold your hand and tell you everything is going to be alright when, quite clearly, it’s fucked. My job is to bring to you what’s on the news agenda, not to set it. And right now, it’s the pregnant femme fatale who has just broken the internet.’ He swiped his tablet so that its screen contents appeared on another wall. ‘Admit it, you’re dying to know what they’re saying, aren’t you?’
Before Libby could deny it, screengrabs and posts filled every inch of space. She couldn’t help but read some of them.
‘She and that baby are screwed. #votesofia #Hackertellsthetruth.’
‘Blow her up now and stop wasting time or I’m gonna switch off. #voteHeidi.’
‘Let the legend live. #votesofia.’
‘An hour to go. Why can’t it continue? It’s like watching a soap opera. Good work Hacker! #votesofia.’
‘Now do you see what I mean?’ Cadman continued. ‘Like it or not, the Hacker has the world by the balls. What’s not to love about a bit of anarchy?’
Libby closed her eyes and shook her head at Cadman and the people he represented. Taking him on and the virtual world was not a fight she was likely to win. If social media truly reflected society, then she didn’t want to be a part of a world where the Hacker was held in any kind of esteem.
‘A friendly word in your ear, Cadman,’ Matthew said, rising to his feet and moving towards him. His tone was less than friendly.
‘Go ahead,’ Cadman replied, a little apprehensively.
‘Firstly, I’m not asking for your permission, and secondly, I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.’ He came to a halt, barely two inches from Cadman’s face. ‘The people you claim to represent are as much lacking in decency as you are. If you were out there with my colleagues in the emergency services scraping body parts from roads and dousing the flames of burning children then perhaps that might qualify you to speak your mind. But you’re not. You’re a statistician who doesn’t understand the value of human life because you live in a virtual reality surrounded by other avatars equally as devoid of empathy as you. You are worse than artificial intelligence because at least AI can be programmed to care. So until you learn humility and compassion, from here on in, you only speak when you are spoken to and the rest of the time you keep your mouth shut. Do I make myself clear?’