Read Online Resonance by Chris Dolley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Chris Dolley
Tags: Science-Fiction
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write it down but lobster guy didn't want any of that. 'Nothing on paper,' he said. 'Can you memorize a twelve-digit number?' he asked. 'For another hundred bucks, I can.'"
"The message was a twelve-digit number?"
"Part of it. He wanted me to get in touch with the same Annalise that told me about the bungled De Santos kidnapping. Very insistent. It had to be her and no one else and she had to contact Gary Mitchison, some doctor who worked at the Queen Alexandra College over here in London. 'Resonance wave,' she had to say. 'I have a message for you from Kevin Alexander on 015 498 226 373.'"
"Was that his telephone number?"
"No, I checked. And it wasn't a URL or anything internetty. I double-checked. Probably some code the two of them had worked out before the guy passed over."
"Why would anyone do that?"
"To prove they were who they said they were. Houdini started it all. It's a way of checking the medium's for real. If the medium comes back with the wrong code then she's a fake."
Annalise drained the last of her coffee.
"Anyway, that was supposed to get this spirit guy's attention. Then came the rest of the message. 'Danger, be careful what you broadcast, remember everything's monitored. Resonance project teams are being closed. No longer safe. Take research off line. The girl can be trusted. Pay her. She's the only secure line of communication. Resonance wave intensifying, repeat, resonance wave intensifying.'"
"What's a resonance wave?"
"You don't know?"
Graham shook his head. He hadn't a clue.
Annalise tilted her head to one side and looked closely at Graham. "Lobster guy and his dead pals sure seem to think you do." She paused. "They think you're the key."
Graham swallowed hard and looked at his feet.
"Anyway, there's more of the message. 'Access the Census logs,' it went on. 'Look for traffic on Graham Smith and cross-reference with disbanded Resonance projects. Can't be coincidence. Why the interest in him and why were the projects closed soon after? End message.'"
Annalise paused to deposit her empty cup on the coffee table.
"Spooky, right? What kinda census logs would a dead guy look at? Some kinda dead guy inventory? Or is there something a dead guy can do that a live one can't? Like pass through locked doors and check out classified files?"
"But what could any of that have to do with me?"
He was totally confused. Why would anyone in Canada or anywhere else for that matter have the slightest interest in him? He was as near to a nobody as you could get. He could disappear tomorrow and no one would notice. He had no family, no friends, no . . .
And then it came to him. It was obvious.
"They've got me mixed up with another Graham Smith, haven't they? It's a very common name."
"Urrrr!" Annalise pressed an air buzzer with her finger. "Wrong answer, Graham. You haven't heard the dead guy's reply."
Ten
Annalise retrieved her coffee cup and held it out to him. "This is definitely a two-cup story."
Graham took it from her and made a fresh cup. Just the one this time; he knew he'd be up all night if he drank any more.
Annalise was standing over his jigsaw when he returned.
"I still can't get over this jigsaw of yours. It's gotta be like—wow—the biggest jigsaw I've ever seen. You must be a real patient kinda guy."
Graham held out her coffee.
"You're not having one?"
"No."
"This is definitely not how I pictured it," she said, swinging her coffee cup to point around the room. "Your house, I mean. It's not a guy house. It's like normal in a spooky old-fashioned kinda way. Were you married?'
Graham shook his head.
"And no TV. Or do you like have one of those home entertainment rooms?"
Graham shook his head again. "My parents had a TV but . . ." He let the sentence end in a shrug.
"But what?"
"I never really liked TV."
"Wow, you really are weird."
"You were about to tell me what happened next," said Graham, changing the subject.
Annalise stared blankly.
"The dead guy's reply?"
"Oh,
"The message was a twelve-digit number?"
"Part of it. He wanted me to get in touch with the same Annalise that told me about the bungled De Santos kidnapping. Very insistent. It had to be her and no one else and she had to contact Gary Mitchison, some doctor who worked at the Queen Alexandra College over here in London. 'Resonance wave,' she had to say. 'I have a message for you from Kevin Alexander on 015 498 226 373.'"
"Was that his telephone number?"
"No, I checked. And it wasn't a URL or anything internetty. I double-checked. Probably some code the two of them had worked out before the guy passed over."
"Why would anyone do that?"
"To prove they were who they said they were. Houdini started it all. It's a way of checking the medium's for real. If the medium comes back with the wrong code then she's a fake."
Annalise drained the last of her coffee.
"Anyway, that was supposed to get this spirit guy's attention. Then came the rest of the message. 'Danger, be careful what you broadcast, remember everything's monitored. Resonance project teams are being closed. No longer safe. Take research off line. The girl can be trusted. Pay her. She's the only secure line of communication. Resonance wave intensifying, repeat, resonance wave intensifying.'"
"What's a resonance wave?"
"You don't know?"
Graham shook his head. He hadn't a clue.
Annalise tilted her head to one side and looked closely at Graham. "Lobster guy and his dead pals sure seem to think you do." She paused. "They think you're the key."
Graham swallowed hard and looked at his feet.
"Anyway, there's more of the message. 'Access the Census logs,' it went on. 'Look for traffic on Graham Smith and cross-reference with disbanded Resonance projects. Can't be coincidence. Why the interest in him and why were the projects closed soon after? End message.'"
Annalise paused to deposit her empty cup on the coffee table.
"Spooky, right? What kinda census logs would a dead guy look at? Some kinda dead guy inventory? Or is there something a dead guy can do that a live one can't? Like pass through locked doors and check out classified files?"
"But what could any of that have to do with me?"
He was totally confused. Why would anyone in Canada or anywhere else for that matter have the slightest interest in him? He was as near to a nobody as you could get. He could disappear tomorrow and no one would notice. He had no family, no friends, no . . .
And then it came to him. It was obvious.
"They've got me mixed up with another Graham Smith, haven't they? It's a very common name."
"Urrrr!" Annalise pressed an air buzzer with her finger. "Wrong answer, Graham. You haven't heard the dead guy's reply."
Ten
Annalise retrieved her coffee cup and held it out to him. "This is definitely a two-cup story."
Graham took it from her and made a fresh cup. Just the one this time; he knew he'd be up all night if he drank any more.
Annalise was standing over his jigsaw when he returned.
"I still can't get over this jigsaw of yours. It's gotta be like—wow—the biggest jigsaw I've ever seen. You must be a real patient kinda guy."
Graham held out her coffee.
"You're not having one?"
"No."
"This is definitely not how I pictured it," she said, swinging her coffee cup to point around the room. "Your house, I mean. It's not a guy house. It's like normal in a spooky old-fashioned kinda way. Were you married?'
Graham shook his head.
"And no TV. Or do you like have one of those home entertainment rooms?"
Graham shook his head again. "My parents had a TV but . . ." He let the sentence end in a shrug.
"But what?"
"I never really liked TV."
"Wow, you really are weird."
"You were about to tell me what happened next," said Graham, changing the subject.
Annalise stared blankly.
"The dead guy's reply?"
"Oh,
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