Page 49 of Reinventing Cato
Vigge raised his eyebrows. “What does that involve?”
“It’s a mix of materials physics, electrical engineering, software development, computer science, statistics and a very tiny amount of actual particle physics.”
“What about you?” Vigge turned to Sam.
“Agri-food robotics.”
“How to handle food gently,” Cato said. “We’re trying to persuade Sam to build us a sex robot.”
“When I can do the job just as well?” Sam quipped.
“Only just as well?” Cato raised his eyebrows. “Better surely.”
Sam sniggered.
Cato put three mugs on the work surface. “Sugar?” He looked at Vigge.
“No thanks.”
Cato poured three coffees and handed mugs to Vigge and Pedro before picking up his own.
“Thanks,” Pedro said.
He followed Cato upstairs to a locked room at the back of the house. Vigge glanced around when he walked in. All the walls were covered in pieces of paper with scribbled mathematical equations, plus drawings and photographs of star clusters. Cato’s desk held a laptop, piles of notebooks and sheets of paper. The double bed seemed to be the only tidy thing in there. Cato took Vigge’s coat from him and put it on the bed, then hung his own behind the door.
When Cato turned, he looked worried.
“What’s wrong?”
“Something bad’s happened. My housemates don’t know and I don’t want them to know. No one knows. I haven’t told anyone.” He gave a choked laugh. “Well, I guess that’s whatno one knowsmeans. And I don’t know what to do. That’s rare for me. I always know what to do. I always have a plan even if it doesn’t work out.” He slumped on the bed.
That hadn’t been what Vigge expected to hear, though Cato still hadn’t told him what had him so worried. He put his coffee down and sat next to him.
“I don’t even know if I should tell you,” Cato whispered.
“Would you have invited me in if you hadn’t wanted to tell me?”
“Are you asking if I’ve forgiven you? You were a prick but I do understand why. And I walked out, didn’t I? I could have stayed and tickled the truth out of you.”
Cato grabbed his phone, swiped a few times and handed it to him. “This arrived before I went in for the interview.”
Vigge read the message.If you take this job, or tell anyone about this message, a member of your family will die.
Shit.Vigge stiffened.
“Like a line in some psychological thriller, isn’t it? Do this or this will happen. Tell anyone or this will happen. And the plucky hero or heroine works out who sent the message and wins the day, eventually. I don’t know who sent it. Maybe even telling you now has…” Cato shuddered.
“How would this person know you’d told me unless they have a camera or a mic in the room. What do you know about the previous tenant?”
Cato’s eyes flicked around. “Nothing. Other than the guys wanted someone quieter. Fuck! Really?”
“I’ll look.” Vigge pushed to his feet and searched. So did Cato and neither of them found anything.
“I texted back. I askedWhy?”
Vigge winced. “You’d have been better not to respond.”
“The message failed to deliver anyway. I’m pretty good with IT. I’ve got decent antivirus, but I’m still worried that someone might be monitoring what I do.” Cato groaned. “I’m paranoid.”
