by Mark Reece
“I’ve asked everyone if they were interested in a day in another office to discuss the IT issues, then maybe have something to eat.”
Peter had given Mohammed the role of ‘social coordinator’, which mostly involved trying to get the agents to spend time with each other outside the office. Apparently, there should be one in every team, to demonstrate how the SDMA was a flexible employer. The one policy Peter had shown an interest in.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Try to do it if you can. There’s no point otherwise – you know no one will volunteer for anything if you’re not there.”
“I’ll read it tomorrow. I might be washing my hair though. This is what we get for drafting in riff-raff from North East zone. I can’t believe you passed the vetting.”
“It’s a good job I did, otherwise I’d have been shovelling shit on the street instead of in here. That’s why I’m so grateful to have got the job.” He smiled.
“I suppose I’m happy enough about it.”
“That’s what I try for – spreading the joy. Enjoy your early night.”
Early night? Ethan thought. I got here before eight.
The corridors were still crammed with guards, and as the lips to the ground floor opened, Ethan wondered whether Aislin had been asked to do any work on the infiltrator. There must be something we could learn from their background, what they said when they were interviewed for the job and how they had behaved during their time here. He wanted to ask her, but although there was no specific regulation against talking about work outside the building, it would clearly be inappropriate. He felt cheerful when seeing her leaning against a wall outside. He held her hand and smiled as if he were fifteen years old. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Finishing only an hour late was a luxury, and the evening stretched before them like a dream of eternal summer.
They went out to a fac and chatted and laughed like young lovers. Aislin ate a chunk of prawn-shaped fish substitute from the back of her fork with the utmost daintiness before saying, “Daisy rang this morning asking how I was. Did you have anything planned for the weekend?”
“Erm… not really. Why?”
“She’s coming over and she wanted to know whether I was free.”
“Great.”
“Stop it, you.”
“What? What did I say?”
“You don’t have to say anything. I’m going to go back to mine tonight ’cos she wants to stay over. I need to sort out some bits for dad anyway. He said his roof’s got a leak and I don’t want him climbing up to try to fix it, balancing like a madman.”
“She could stay over at mine you know, you don’t have to—”
“Thanks for saying that, it’s an improvement.”
“Christ, I tell you what, that woman makes an argument even when her name is mentioned. It’s a special gift, you know – most people have to be in the room.”
“I’d swear to God you two were brother and sister if I didn’t know otherwise.”
That deliberately provocative comment made Ethan want to argue back, a dozen retorts wrapped around his tongue. Aislin took a sip of water, and by the time she put her glass down, not having taken her eyes off him since she had last spoken, he had thought better of continuing the conversation.
Aislin had known Daisy since university, when they had been in the swimming team together. Although neither of them competed anymore, they had remained close friends, despite meeting less frequently since Daisy had moved back to her parents’ farm. Aislin had introduced them soon after they had started their relationship and they had each taken a vague dislike to the other, which manifested in arguments over their interpretation of the news, disagreements about what words they used in conversation meant, and barely hidden barbs about each other’s appearance. Ethan had commented about the fact that she never wore make-up, which he had never done with any other woman. Daisy had taken particular offence to Ethan’s job, talking slightingly about the SDMA when mentioning news articles she had read about high-profile SC cases and the size of the SDMA budget.
The last time they had met, their sniping had escalated to the point where Ethan had made a series of jokes about farmers, alluding to their sexual relations with animals. At first, Daisy had smiled thinly and replied with her standard sarcasm. However, at a certain point, his comments must have pressed some mental switch, making her screech and throw her arms into the air, causing him momentary alarm before he had burst out laughing at her desperate insults; at one point, she had accused him of personal responsibility for the ‘alarm clock culture’. After that point, the two of them had made an unspoken agreement to make polite, resolutely neutral conversation that avoided any topic that might invite more than one point of view whenever they were forced into contact. Their relationship was finely balanced, with one stray comment being enough to ignite the cold war into a hot one.
“Well…” Aislin said.
“What?”
“What do you want to say?”
“Nothing.”
“Your mouth twitched, I know you’re dying to say something.”
“I don’t want to say anything.”
“Okay then. You are like brother and sister though.”
She watched him carefully for a few seconds and Ethan nodded slightly in such a way that communicated nothing. She turns into her when she’s talking about her. Ethan felt annoyed that she was affecting their lives even in her absence.
“Ash, I’ve been meaning to ask. Are you going to do the self-defence training again?”
She had previously been one of the lead instructors for the Central Zone SDMA, after having being picked out during her introductory training for demonstrating a proficiency in the subject. Ethan had enjoyed spending time sparing together, but she had given up instructing a few months before they had gone on holiday.
“Maybe.”
“It’s a useful thing to have in our job with everything that goes on. And when I look round the office in the morning, some of them need to get fit.”
“Like I’ve already said, I’ll think about it, but I don’t want to go back to doing something for nothing.”
“But with the—”
“Do you want another drink?”
Ethan nodded and stared at the hologram of a pork pie on the nearest wall, which flashed on and off in fluorescent colours as if they were in a casino.
When they returned to his house that night, he kissed her goodbye very effusively to show her that he was not in a bad mood.
“Ash, I just wanted to say that… I really enjoyed staying with you last week. It feels so long ago now… but it was good to have some time together properly for once…”
“I’m glad. I enjoyed it too. It needs to happen more often.”
Ethan held her a moment, feeling foolish. He was relieved by the plain happiness of her smile.
Walking around the house on his own gave him a strange impression, as if he had just arrived at a hotel at the start of a holiday. Aislin had joked with him in the past about moving in properly, telling him to throw away his MV because she had a better one, and to get a bigger wardrobe. He had laughed at the time, but had often since thought about the conversation.
Four
Ethan dreamt very vividly that night that he was at the bottom of the stairs when he heard piteous yelps from his bedroom, sounding as if they came from a child. When he tried to go up, his feet stuck to the floor. He struggled desperately, frightened of every surface in the suddenly treacherous environment. The cries continued, battering against him like sheer wind. He saw himself in the third person, his body flashing as if he had been x-rayed, then the scene repeated over and over, his sense of foreboding serving no purpose as he never learnt from what had happened.
For a few seconds, his alarm clock only added
to his nightmare. As he regained awareness, he wished he could have controlled his dream, as the cries were plaintive enough to be taken seriously whether or not they were real.
However, the insistent shrieking eroded his memories like fire to a treasured photograph. When one looks at an image of a loved one, it is so clear that it seems it will never be forgotten, the very idea an insult. And yet, within a moment of being consumed, the details become hazy, and soon, only a conception of the picture remains, as indistinct as a summer cloud. Dream memories are the same.
Ethan retained a sense of lethargic sadness that morning without knowing why. It was a feeling that continued as he drove to the SDMA building; every traffic light that turned red made him sigh, every car that pulled in front of him seemed the result of a vicious, willed evil.
He was waiting at the last traffic light before work when he looked up from changing the radio station to see a white van alongside him. It pulled away with a screech of breaks. Ethan felt alarmed. He remembered the van from the other day and his mind immediately lit up, assessing the possibilities and dangers. Unfortunately, it had left too quickly for him to get the registration plate.
He could report the incident, but that would involve completing numerous forms and being interviewed by internal security officers to assess any danger, which would take days. His position meant that his house alarm was linked to both SDMA Internal Security, and the local police, both of whom would be on the scene in minutes should anyone try to break in. It was generally unwise for an agent to identify themselves as a security risk. Why would anyone be following me?
It was only when he was walking his usual route that his sense of oppression was replaced by workaday tiredness, and he had an outbreak of bad-temper. If only people didn’t keep bothering me and let me get on with what I need to do, there’d be more than enough time to sleep. How can we be expected to clear this place up when we can’t even get our own organisation right? Ethan looked around as he moved into an alleyway, wondering whether his subversive thoughts would be visible to anyone watching him. Security cameras were woven so discretely into buildings that no one knew from how many angles they were being recorded at any one time.
The feeling chastened him and he relapsed into a dream-like wandering of mind. His eyes felt full of sleep no matter how many times he rubbed them, making the tops of buildings above look like the spires of gothic fantasy. Paths before him seemed to knit up like a magical maze that constantly changed shape. The one solid thing was the SDMA building, the sharp edges of which were fixed in the sky.
When Ethan neared the guards, they carried out the same procedure as the previous day. They checked his identity card despite that he would not have been able to access the area beyond the lobby without it. Strictly speaking, they could have represented a security breach themselves, their legitimacy having been nowhere established. They had never been mentioned on the intranet or by any manager, but the nature of their power was so obvious that no one questioned it.
The mood in the office was calmer than the previous day, with more talking and joking, although no one mentioned what had happened. Perhaps the Ick was one of the senior managers, Ethan thought. That would explain some of their decisions.
He knew that he could not delay Hypnos any longer, and as soon as Peter arrived, Ethan followed him into his office and dropped the planning document on his desk. Peter soon seemed overwhelmed by the complexity and agreed with everything Ethan said.
“Can I use your phone so I don’t have to call Dan in front of everyone?”
“Go on then.”
“Thanks… can you log me in then?”
“Oh yeah, sorry.”
Peter winced when the phone took his blood and wrapped a plaster around his finger several times. Ethan looked at him pityingly before dialling Daniel’s mobile.
“Hello?”
“Hi Dan, it’s Ethan. You okay to talk?”
“Sure. Make it quick though.”
“Right. I’ve put a plan together for how we can do Hypnos. I’ll send you a document where I’ve gone into what areas we need to look at. It shows what systems the information is stored on so there’s no confusion. As I said before, I’m going to give a few bits to other people in the office who’ve worked on various relevant jobs. It’s nothing beyond the norm so I don’t think there’s a need to make special security arrangements. I’ve highlighted the stuff everyone else is going to do in the report.”
“That’s great. Thanks for your work on this, Eth.”
Ethan glanced up at Peter. “When you’ve got the stuff, do you want to send a reply agreeing to it, so I can…?”
“Yeah yeah, send it through and I’ll get back to you today. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Okay then…”
His voice trailed off and Ethan knew that he had already taken up too much of his time. Whenever he contacted him, Dan always made it clear that his every second was precious and strictly rationed. Needless to say, the reverse was not true when Dan rang him.
“Sorry, there was one more thing. Is nothing else going to be assigned to me until I finish this? I know what you said before but it’s a long time to be out the game.”
“How many jobs have you got already?”
“Eight. That’s stuff I had before though, I haven’t had anything new since I got back.”
“In that case, what I said before stands. You can keep those jobs but don’t take on anything new. Make that clear to Pete. If he’s got anything to say about it other than okay, get back to me.”
“Right…” But they’re all the crap that can be done in five minutes, Ethan thought.
“Thanks, Eth.”
“Okay, bye then.”
But he had already hung up.
“What did he say about the other jobs?”
Peter looked at Ethan over his glasses.
“Hypnos has got to be the priority, he said. I’m not to be given anything new until it’s finished.”
“Okay, erm… leave it with me and I’ll think about it.”
“He was pretty clear. He said to keep what I’ve already got but don’t take on anything new.”
“Just carry on for now then and I’ll let you know what I decide.”
“Fine.”
When he got back to his desk, Ethan found a gold-coloured parcel. He unwrapped it to find a framed commendation for bravery from the airport commander ‘for selfless and quick thinking action in the apprehension of a terrorist suspect’. When Ethan had scanned his eyes over it, he placed it at the back of his desk with the others.
Mohammed leant across the workspace. “What was that, mate? I thought they didn’t accept anything that wasn’t wrapped the way they like it.”
“Just some paperwork. You know, Pete’s nothing but a tosser.”
“What’s he done now?”
“It was just a general observation.”
Mohammed’s great shoulders shook and his mouth opened a slither, giving him a glimpse of his perfect teeth. “Come on, out with it.”
“I can’t be bothered to go through it now, just trust me on this one.”
“Well, I can’t argue with you there. You didn’t apply for his job though, did you?”
“Well… no.”
“You can’t criticise then can you?”
“My face wouldn’t fit doing that.”
“But you didn’t apply though did you?”
Ethan shook his head.
“There’ll be another job coming up later in the year, that’s what my sources tell me. You need to go for it, you don’t want to be stuck here with me your whole life.”
Ethan smiled, and although there was nothing in Mohammed’s words that he could criticise, he was still thinking about the conversation an hour later. Because of his dealings with the majority of the management, he had turned having as little as possible to do
with them into a principle. Having his logic challenged made him uncomfortable.
When he tried to print one of the documents Daniel had sent him, there was a red light on the all-in-one device. Ethan returned to his desk and asked, “Who mends the printers now?”
“You can call the same number as before… oh, hang on, is it a printer or a photocopier?”
“The all-in-one.”
“You’ve got to ring the manufacturer then.”
“What? Why can’t IT do it?”
“They sent round a long e-mail the other week; it’s not their responsibility anymore.”
“I must have pressed delete when I saw it was from them. Christ. So if I need something printed off, I’ve got to either spend hours on the phone speaking to the company, or fill in a form so that the porters can take me to a printer on another floor? This place is ridiculous sometimes.”
Mohammed laughed. “You chose to work here, mate.”
Ethan shook his head. “I’ll read it on the bastard screen. When I go blind, I’ll sue the place. Who knows, this might be my way to the top.”
“That’s the spirit.”
When Ethan got into work the following morning, he read an e-mail that had been sent at eleven-thirty the previous night:
Ethan,
Approved.
Thanks,
Dan
Ethan sent an e-mail to all the people who needed to do tasks for Hypnos, asking them to attend the conference room at eleven that morning.
“What’s this about then?” Mohammed asked.
“Just that thing I went to the meeting about before. There are a few actions I need people to help me with.”
“I tell you what, you love it, don’t ya? You’re like a sergeant major you are.”
“It’s a good job for some people that I’m not.”
“It’s a good job you’re not then, isn’t it?”
“Wait.”
Mohammed smiled. “By the way, you never replied to me about that open day. You coming or not?”