Bugged
Tabitha needs to deliver the pitch of her career. If only that mosquito would leave her alone...
A high-pitched whine buzzed next to Tabitha’s ear as she stood up to pitch. She tried to ignore it.
This client could be a big deal, if they could pull it off. But after a flurry of interest, there’d been signs of cold feet. What the client needed, her manager had told her, was to be wowed. Which was why they’d dragged Tabitha from her cosy home office in Sheffield all the way down to London to deliver the spiel live and in person.
‘As you can see from the data, we’re talking projections pushing £10 million in the first year alone—’
The mosquito landed on her hair and began to crawl down towards her ear. She could feel it, humming, itching, nagging at her. If her skin was a map of sensation, that single spot was marked with an aggravating X.
‘—and the results from the testing demonstrate significant mass market appeal—’
The mosquito buzzed dangerously near her ear, and she moved her hand, as if to adjust a strand of hair. To her relief, the mosquito buzzed away, landing on the ceiling.
She refocused on the client, trying to regain control. A man in his forties with a shaven head, round glasses and a navy-blue sweater that probably cost more than the average UK monthly salary sat in front of her, sipping on a bottle of cucumber water and trying not to look too bored. His hand kept drifting to his pocket, as if reaching for a phone.
Tabitha glanced at her manager, raising her eyebrow the tiniest fraction.
Do we mention it?
The manager twitched her lip slightly to the right.
Hint. Don’t reveal.
Tabitha smoothed her hair. The new, state-of the-art AI feature they were working on had the potential to completely blow their competitors out of the water. Development had been tight lipped, of course. But with anything that big, there were bound to be rumours…
‘And we’re exploring future possibilities with—’
She paused. The mosquito, having grown bored of its ceiling position, was drifting downwards towards her nose.
Sweat gathered around her blouse collar, on her back and stomach, itching the waistband of her skirt. Tabitha wasn’t the type to freak out during a pitch, even one as key as this, but she hadn’t felt this on show since primary school. Her brain was alive with anxieties. What if she swallowed the insect by accident? What if it wafted up her nose, clambering through nostril hairs and mucous membranes to the back of her skull?
Her manager coughed pointedly, bringing her back to her senses. She needed to keep it together. They’d brought her in for a reason. She was good at this.
The mosquito hovered above her head, circling menacingly. She wafted it away, but it didn’t move. Just hung there. As if it was listening.
Forget the damn bug.
Tabitha ploughed on with the pitch, wearing a smile she’d spent thousands on keeping in perfect alignment. The client was leaning in their direction, she could see that. Tabitha had weaved a magical thread of words and figures, and he wanted to believe. He just needed a little more convincing. Get this right, and they’d be laughing.
‘Let’s talk numbers, shall we?’
The client smiled. The deal of a career hung in the air, mere inches away. She picked up her papers, ready to refer to a key figure.
With a tiny whirr, the mosquito landed on the top page, its tiny black body covering just where she needed to look. She tried to shake it off. It wouldn’t budge, cleaning its legs, then looking up at her, as much as an insect can.
Go on, it seemed to say. What are you going to do about me?
Tabitha smacked the papers hard with her free hand. The client looked at her quizzically. Tabitha smiled brightly back.
‘Sorry about that – bit of a bug problem. Where was I?’
The unharmed insect rose up before her, as if from the grave. Tabitha rolled the paper into a tight tube.
‘Excuse me just one moment.’
She took a well-aimed swipe, and the insect dodged out of reach, mocking her with its whining wings. Again and again, she tried to swat the creature out of existence, only to find herself foiled.
‘Just leave it,’ muttered her manager.
But Tabitha didn’t leave it. She couldn’t leave it. Woman and insect were at war, and there could only be one victor.
Tabitha began to chase the mosquito around the room, wielding her paper baton like a holy sword. Her strikes became wilder, her aim flawed. The client’s cucumber water was knocked all over his phone, and the man screamed as if he’d lost a limb.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve almost got him!’
Tabitha took another hard swipe at the wall, missing the creature and hitting the fire alarm. The blare wailed over and over, trying to drown out the whine of the mosquito, but Tabitha could still hear it. She could have picked the sound out directly beneath a jet engine. It had wormed its way in, wriggling and writhing, and it would not stop until the beast was dead.
‘I’ll get you!’ she shrieked, thwacking the walls, the tables, even her manager, who ducked just in time. But every time she struck, it was just out of reach, hovering over her, whispering.
You can’t get me, you can’t get me…
Tabitha could hear her manager trying to smooth over the client as they evacuated the room. It would do no good. The deal was gone, swiped clean from their hands, and Tabitha didn’t even care. All she wanted was a dark brown stain.
The mosquito landed on the ceiling, looking down on her with what almost seemed like intelligence. An utterly malignant, sinister intelligence, designed to drive her mad.
She climbed onto the table. Some rational part of her knew how stupid she looked, how much trouble she was bound to be in when this was all over, but that didn’t matter anymore. She would kill this bug. She would kill it.
She waited, the rolled-up paper cool in her hand. The mosquito, its front arms folded, cleaned its face. Her arm raised slowly, ever so gently.
Smack!
Like an angel plummeting from the heavens, the mosquito tumbled down onto the table, where it lay perfectly still. Tabitha stared down, disbelieving.
Then, with a cry of jubilation, she began to jump up and down on the table.
‘I got him! I got him! I got him! I got—’
Her foot slipped on the puddle of cucumber water. She tumbled backwards. There was a very loud crack.
***
Timothy Langwell sat back in his computer chair.
The Mosquito Spybot 10,000 had been his biggest success to date. The most realistic, lifelike insect bot ever created, complete with crystal-clear sound and 4k visuals, with a far greater field of vision than that of any human’s. Putting it to use for stealing corporate secrets had seemed like a waste of an inaugural mission, but the client was keen and he couldn’t afford to be picky – not when he still was living in his mother’s attic.
Still, he hadn’t expected the woman to be so relentless. The mosquito bot possessed the natural reflexes of its insect brethren, but he’d had to help it out a few times to avoid vital hardware damage. In the end he’d had to resort to the ultimate failsafe – play dead.
Sensors registering clear, he rose above the room, scanning carefully.
The woman lay very still, a blood puddle forming at the base of her skull. An ordinary mosquito would find such a spoil attractive, provided it was fresh enough.
Timothy Langswell threw up in his takeaway tray.
After several minutes of lying on the floor and hyperventilating, he slowly came back to his senses. Why was he panicking? That woman had just had a nasty accident, that’s all. It wasn’t as if he’d done anything.
He pressed a few buttons, and watched the spybot drift lazily through the window. It went entirely unnoticed.ilating, he slowly came back to his senses. Why was he panicking? That woman had just had a nasty accident, that’s all. It wasn’t as if he’d done anything.
He pressed a few buttons, and watched the spybot drift lazily through the window. It went entirely unnoticed.
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As someone who also becomes relentless when bugged by mosquitoes, this was both relatable and terrifying. What if???? Well done!
Cool. I always thought those little rats knew way too much.very well written she is wound a bit too tight though. Well done.