Zero History

“Did you have story time first?”
“No.”
“You think something’s happening? You tweeted.”
The verb sounded off, the more particularly because he knew it wasn’t part of a
nursery theme. “Something is. I don’t know what. He’s hired someone called Wilson, and
delegated.” He was glad he’d remembered the word.
“Threat management,” she said. “He’s outsourcing. Shows he’s taking it seriously. Have
you met Wilson?”
“No.”
“What’s Wilson telling them to do?”
“They put a box on the back of Fiona’s bike. The kind they haul eyeballs in.”
There was a perfect digital silence, then: “Who’s Fiona?”
“She drives. For Bigend. Motorcycles.”
“Okay,” said Winnie. “We’ll just start again. Tasking.”
“Tasking?”
“I want you to meet Wilson. I want to know about Wilson. Most importantly, the name
of the firm he’s working for.”
“Isn’t he working for Bigend?”
“He works for one of the security firms. Bigend is the client. Don’t ask him. Just find
out. Sneaky-ass, though. You can do sneaky-ass. Instinct tells me. Whose phone are you
using?”
“Fiona’s.”
“I just e-mailed the number to someone, and they’re telling me the GPS is very
amusing. Unless you’ve taken up marathon randomized teleportation.”
“It’s new. She just got it from Bigend.”
“That might be Wilson, the threat management consultant. Earning his keep, if that’s the
case. Okay. You’re tasked. Go for it. Call, tweet.” She was gone.
The room filled with that weird chicken-scratch sub-Hendrix chord. He rushed out the
door, tripped on part of an engine, and nearly fell, but managed to thrust the phone into
Fiona’s hand. As he did so, he wondered whether or not it might be Winnie.
“Hullo? Yes. It’s on. Very convincing. Having my dampers replaced next. They’re a bit
rough. You would? Certainly. I’ll borrow a bike. Fast? My pleasure.” She smiled. “What
he was wearing yesterday?” She looked at Milgrim. “I’ll tell him.” She put the phone in
her pants pocket.
Milgrim raised his eyebrows.
“Wilson,” Fiona said. “You’re required soonest, over the river. Wants to meet you. And
you’re to bring what you were wearing yesterday.”
“Why?”
“Thinks kit from Tanky & Tojo doesn’t suit you.”
Milgrim winced.