The Passengers(89)
‘Perfect,’ Libby replied.
Inside, and as Nia waited at the bar, Libby chose a private corner booth, sitting with her back to the wall so that she was aware of who was nearby at all times. She recalled one afternoon at a restaurant in Northampton having lunch with her mum, and how their entire conversation had been filmed and posted online by a blogger sitting one table away from them. Libby wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Every stranger was treated with suspicion.
She thought back to how much her life had changed since that infamous Tuesday morning when she’d made her way into the inquest. Later, and spurred on by a need to stop herself from being considered another of the Hacker’s casualties, she seized an opportunity to put her fame to good use.
Libby had been aware of pressure group Transparency In Artificial Intelligence before they contacted her. Up until the hijacking, they campaigned for the reasoning behind inquest decisions to be made public. But the Government denied their requests on the grounds of national security, claiming Hackers could potentially compromise its AI. The irony of what happened next was not lost on anyone.
Following the hijacking, interest in the group’s work jettisoned and, after a handful of meetings, Libby agreed to become their public spokesperson. Her role involved appearing regularly in the media and acting as a keynote speaker at pro-TIAI rallies. Libby had wanted to spread the message further by travelling internationally to warn of the potential dangers to other countries that had purchased the British model of a driverless-car nation. But with little funding behind them, the TIAI’s reach was restricted.
‘I need this,’ said Nia, placing two pint glasses of lager on the table. She held one aloft. ‘Cheers,’ she continued and their glasses clinked. ‘You didn’t say much on the way here. You’re thinking about Jude again, aren’t you? You get that faraway look in your eyes when he’s on your mind.’
‘I’m sorry, I can’t help it,’ Libby replied. ‘I’m still struggling to understand why they haven’t found him yet. Literally billions of people know exactly what he looks like yet there have been no positive sightings of him.’
‘What did the police tell you in their last update?’
‘Nothing that I don’t know already. Apparently, there are untraceable Automated Bots around the world flooding the internet and police forces with fake sightings of him, fake information on him, fake names, fake childhood pictures, fake relationships, fake employment records, fake birth certificates, fake wedding photographs … dozens and dozens of them every day ever since the hijacking. At the rate that information is coming in, the investigators admitted it could take them years to sift through it all and get a proper identification. My gut instinct tells me they’re never going to find answers.’ Libby’s voice trailed off.
‘And how much do you still want those answers?’ asked Nia.
‘A lot … I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’ Libby pinched at her eyes. ‘I know that he must have played a huge part in what happened but it’s like somehow we are tied together with an invisible rope. I don’t understand it but I need to know exactly what and who he really is. Crazy isn’t it?’
‘No, it’s not crazy. It’s like you’re grieving. You hoped that if you two ever met again, you’d continue what you had that first night. You spent months trying to find that boy and when it happened, it was under circumstances that no one in a million years could’ve predicted.’
‘Apart from him.’
‘He doesn’t count. I think you’re grieving the man you thought Jude was.’
‘That first time I met him in the bar, do you think it was by chance or did he engineer it?’
Nia placed her hand on Libby’s. ‘Honestly, I think he set it up. I think he knew who you were, what you had witnessed in Monroe Street, he knew about your brother and his problems, what your job involved and he played on your need to help people with deeper emotional issues. That’s why he sold you that lie about planning his suicide. It was only ever going to make you want to help him. He took advantage of your good heart.’
Libby dabbed at her moistening eyes with a tissue. Nia hadn’t suggested anything that Libby hadn’t already considered. But hearing her best friend verbalise it made her feel even more foolish. She couldn’t admit it to Nia, but try as she might to hate Jude, she wouldn’t be able to until she had heard him admit in his own words the part he played in the attack. It was closure she was unlikely to receive.
‘Don’t let that idiot keep upsetting you,’ continued Nia. ‘He isn’t worth any more of your tears.’
‘I just feel so stupid for falling for it all.’
‘We all would’ve fallen for it. That’s why so many people out there love you, because you are just like them.’
Libby took a sip from her glass and looked around the pub. A couple waiting at the bar were staring at her. On catching her eye, they quickly turned their heads. ‘Do you think I’ll ever get my old life back again?’ she asked.
‘Do you want it?’
‘You know I’m not comfortable with all the attention, but it’s given me the opportunity of a lifetime to make a difference in something I’m passionate about. However, sometimes I miss normality.’
‘You have to see this through or you’ll be left wondering what you could’ve achieved. Your job will be there when you’re ready to come back after your sabbatical. But you’re going to have to come to terms with the fact it’s unlikely you’re ever going to be normal again.’