by Mark Reece
“Okay… just a minute…” The Professor fidgeted on his seat, searching through his pockets before eventually finding a pencil and a piece of crumpled paper.
Ethan thought that he could easily lose something as small as that. “How are we going to do this?”
“I’ll draw it. You explain it to me and I’ll put it down.”
“Right… I only know about my floor ’cos it’s against regulations for me to go to the other floors without permission.”
“Oh. What’s the regulation?”
Ethan froze. “It’s just that, I have to have permission from a supervisor to go to another floor.”
“So no one can go on a floor they don’t work on?”
Ethan nodded slowly. The Professor looked at him with more penetration than usual, making no notes about that part of the conversation.
“Okay, so you work on the…”
“The tenth floor.”
“Yes, the tenth floor. Let’s start with how you get there from the lobby.”
The Professor proceeded to ask him very detailed questions about every aspect of the tenth floor, from the lip-shaped security barriers to the length of the main corridor. “Just give me your best guess,” the Professor said when he struggled to estimate it. Ethan told him how many offices he had been in and their dimensions.
The Professor’s usual hesitancy had gone and he had become sharp, to the extent that Ethan wondered whether his mannerisms were part of an act. Once they had started, he no longer vacillated when answering his questions, even elaborating on occasion to give information that the Professor had not asked for.
When the interrogation had finished, the Professor sketched the tenth floor on the scrap paper in such a confusing manner that Ethan thought that it would be more a hindrance than a help to them. When explaining the layout, he had realised that he had only been into a small number of offices on his own floor, and had been to other floors so rarely that he could remember his visits as vividly as holidays. (He had made it a point of honour to say nothing about the other floors.) During the last few years, he had felt on top of his work and had become highly aware of his understanding. The interrogation had shown him the boundaries of his knowledge, and he had been embarrassed when having to admit that he did not know the answers to some of the Professor’s questions. I don’t know much even about my own side.
“Okay, well, I think that’s about it then. That’s good. Good.” The Professor surreptitiously slipped the paper into his pocket, as if stealing it. “You can… well… you’re free to stay here. Of course, it may be a good idea, with the—”
“With what, what do you mean?”
“Well, it is past twelve, Ethan. As you know, there are SC patrols at this time…”
“It’s past twelve? Shit.” He checked his watch and saw that the Professor was telling the truth.
“I’ll leave you to decide. The room is lockable. Thanks again for… all your, you know…”
The Professor stood to leave, but before he did so, Ethan grabbed his shoulder, making him shudder.
“I want to know what’s going to happen next. After I’ve left here, I mean. I’m tired of having mysterious contacts, telephone calls out the blue, and the rest of it. I’m done with this. I can’t… well, I may as well say it ’cos you seem to know everything about me already. I can’t have anything to do with you after next month ’cos I’ll be moving in with Aislin, and she’s got nothing to do with this. Is that clear?”
“Moving in next month? But that won’t happen straight away, will it? It takes time for mortgages to clear, for—”
“It’s finished. Anyway, you don’t think this can carry on, do you? I’m surprised we’ve got away with it for as long as we have.”
The Professor put his bottom lip over his top lip and puffed his cheeks out several times before answering. “All I’ll say, Ethan, is that concerning important matters, the only things that come to light are those that need to. I can’t give you any… promises about what might happen, but I’ll be… sensitive to your personal situation. If we have to talk again, I’ll make sure it doesn’t impact on your relationship. Don’t worry, if we do meet, it’ll only be to tie up a few loose ends, nothing more.”
“Before you go, let me ask you something. What does a black rose mean?”
“You people are obsessed with symbols.”
“A black rose was put into a letter that was sent to me.”
“I’ve never heard anyone mention one. Just someone being dramatic, I should imagine. Anyway, I’ll let you get on with what you need to do.”
He nodded and left the room. Ethan knew that he would have to stay the night, as he could not risk the SC patrols. He felt dread in his heart as he thought that he would always be under their power. He wished he could feel angry like he used to. He did not know what had sapped his energy.
Ethan paced the room until his legs were sore. After the Professor had left, he committed to memory what he had learnt about the Iklonians, such as the fact that most of them no longer used assumed names. He thought that he should go to bed, but could not stop thinking about the answers he had given about the layout of the tenth floor. It’s worked out about equal: they’ve learnt something about us, and we’ve learnt something about them. In fact, what I’ve found out is probably more important, because their agents would already know about the floors they worked on. He sat on the bed and thought through everything he had said.
After he had convinced himself, Ethan was exhausted, but the thought that Daisy was in the same building was like a reed stuck between his toes. He walked around the room before holding still. Silence. Ethan slipped to the door, opened it a slither, and looked out. Nothing. He walked along the corridor on his tiptoes.
Light trapped under his eyelids transformed into spirits that flew towards him, making him pause and hold his breath until they had passed. The roof of the corridor had become curved after the lights had been switched off. After long, tortuous steps, the way before him opened up and he realised that he had come to the lounge. The only light emanated from the MV, which pulsated a series of dots one after the other against a black background, first white, then purple. The Iklonians slept over each other on the floor, like lions. Ethan slowly scanned his eyes over them until seeing one sitting on the sofa. They looked at him with eyes all white. His breath caught in his throat and he froze.
Eventually, he managed to tear himself away and softly stepped back, feeling that he was going to fall over any second. Daisy wasn’t there. Ethan went in the other direction, feeling recklessly bold now that he walked at normal speed. He could not remember where his room was. It was definitely on the right, meaning that he felt a stab of excitement when seeing a door to his left. He turned the handle.
The room was the same size as his own, although a large window with no curtains faced the door, so that the darkness of the room mingled with the darkness outside. Daisy sat at a desk looking out and up, her braid almost touching the floor. His hand brushed the bed and she spun around, baring her teeth. She was on him in a moment, tearing at him with her hands, twisted into claws. He could somehow see himself being ripped to pieces, his flesh bouncing across the floor…
Eleven
When he was woken by the alarm on his mobile, Ethan’s eyes felt sore and he clutched the sheets with both hands. He looked down and tentatively touched his legs, to find that he was unharmed. He had to consciously control his breathing. Bastards, he thought.
As he walked through the silent house, Ethan started when seeing the Professor. He seemed to never sleep.
“I’d hoped you’d want to take part in our natural sleep experiment. You’re about two hours short of what you need now, which according to my research would set you up for another… about ten hours. You don’t want to be run down for work, do you?”
“This has got nothing to do with what we agreed.
I only stayed because it was too late to risk driving back.”
“Ethan…” The Professor held his arms out before withdrawing them, “…you’ve got the wrong impression of what’s going on here. You’re a fanatic, like Max. You’ve created images for yourself of… I think you’re setting yourself up for a disappointment…”
His weary manner suggested a level of understanding that worried Ethan.
“Are you going to stop me from leaving?”
“Well… no. Are you at least going to have something to eat before you go? Unless there are any regulations against that?”
“Goodbye.” Ethan brushed past him.
Ethan’s stomach rumbled as he left the house, making the journey ahead seem very long and onerous.
The village was preternaturally quiet given that the legal sleeping time was over, making him imagine that it was being used in its entirety by the Iklonians as part of their experiments. He hurried along Green Lane, past the abandoned farm, and when he drove off and reached the motorway, there were enough cars to provide a mirage of normality.
Ethan felt relieved when arriving home and opening the blinds. However, although his mind had been blank when he was driving, he was now consumed by awareness of how flimsy his agreement with the Professor was. In fact, it meant nothing at all, and he thought that he would inevitably call him again in a few weeks. Why wouldn’t he? He’s not risking anything and has a lot to gain. Ethan felt angry at the sly methods he had used to force his co-operation. How can it be my fault when I had no choice? He stalked backwards and forwards as if searching for answers in the lounge.
He only stopped when his mobile went off. He jumped on it to read an automated message from the SDMA.
Contacting the Public Safety Hotline is free from any number. YOU are part of the jigsaw. Report anything suspicious today. Why take a chance?
The solution was obvious now he had thought about it but none the less dangerous for that. He could ring the PSH and tell them about the two safe houses. The first problem was that the information was too closely associated with him. What would they do if they knew I’d informed on them? Tell the SDMA? Something worse?
The better way would be to only say about one of them. This must happen all the time so it wouldn’t be obvious that it was from me. The one in the city was the more conspicuous of the two locations, as there were numerous people who might have seen something suspicious about it. The only people who knew about the one in Caville were the people who lived there and the Iklonians themselves, if any distinction could be drawn between them.
Ethan felt his lack of knowledge, as he had no idea how the DIA would deal with the information. Surely, after raiding the flat, they would examine it forensically and get fingerprints from everyone they found there? Would they be able to identify that I had visited? Ethan was not sure but his desire to convince himself of the merit of his plan was such that he dismissed the dangers. Presumably, they’d look into who rented or owned the flat, and the Professor had to be associated with it somehow. Then again, is he my biggest problem, or just their representative? Assuming they’d do anything with the report. He forced himself not to think about that possibility.
As he looked at his MV, he felt as if he had eaten too much. He knew the number off by heart but whispered it to himself several times before picking up the controller.
The number rang for a long time, creating grey ripples across the screen, such that Ethan wondered whether he had made a mistake, as government departments usually place the caller on hold. However, eventually, a computerised voice said, “Thank you for calling the…” There was a burst of static then the next few words were spoken in a higher tone. “… Public Safety Hotline. Your call will be answered within a maximum time of… five minutes. Please do not hang up. Your call is vital to us. An operator will be with you shortly.”
It was a strange feeling to be at the inputting stage of the process.
His call was answered after precisely five minutes by a bored sounding man, who said, “Public Safety Hotline, how can I help you?”
“Hi. I’d like to give some information about something I’ve heard, please.”
“One moment, let me start a new record. Okay, what’s the information about?”
“It’s about somewhere where I know a lot of Icks go…”
Ethan proceeded to give the address of the city-based safe house and to describe some of the characters he had seen there. The man said ‘uh-huh’ every so often and occasionally asked him to repeat himself. Ethan tested him by giving a very weak description of Max; he only said ‘uh-huh’ again without asking any questions. Ethan now knew why so many DIA reports were of such poor quality.
The trickiest subject was, of course, the Professor, and Ethan provided extraneous details about the flat to give him time to think of how to phrase himself.
When he finally started talking about the Professor, Ethan gave a more detailed description than he had of the others to make him stand out, adding that “He’s always on a mobile when he comes out and he looks like he’s organising things”. When the man made no comment, his instinct was to add more details, but he decided against it because he thought that it might make the information sound unreliable.
When he ran out of steam, he hung up, not wanting to hear the script they used to end the conversation. He felt flat, as he wanted instant results, and was tempted to ring again to give other information and hurry the situation along, but persuaded himself not to. Although the line was supposed to be confidential, some alert system would undoubtedly activate if multiple calls were made from the same number. It would be best to allow the system to take its course. Its long, meandering, inefficient course.
Ethan looked at the screen for a few minutes before the memory of Daisy hit him like a slap to the face. He rang Aislin on his mobile.
“Hi Eth. I wasn’t expecting you yet.”
“I needed to speak with you. Are you free for a few minutes?”
“Erm… yeah, what’s up?”
“I’m going to tell you something and I need you to trust me. I know it’s… I just need you to trust me.”
“Sounds serious… go on.”
“I need you to promise me that you’ll never contact Daisy again. Not in any way, meeting her, ringing her, being in contact at all.”
“What? Are you being serious?”
“I need you to promise me.”
“Ethan… you’re not going to tell me not to contact my friend. Who do you think you are?”
“Aislin, I’m not joking, this is important. I’ve never asked you anything like this before and I’ll never do it again. Please.”
“Has she rung you while I’ve been away? You didn’t start up that stupid argument about the news again, did you?”
“I’ve not seen her since she last came over. Have you seen her?”
“I’ve had my phone off most of the time I’ve been here, not that I have to tell you when I call my friends. Ethan, are you drunk? What’s this about?”
“You know that in our jobs we can’t always tell each other the details about what we get up to day to day. Please, Ash, please.”
His voice cracked and she paused before replying in a more emollient tone. “I’ll promise that I won’t ring her until I get back. But Ethan, I’m not cutting off a friend just because you tell me to. You’re scaring me.”
“No no, it’s not like that… I’m sorry to ring out the blue like this… I don’t want to put you under any extra pressure… I’m sorry…”
“I’ve got to go, I’ll ring you later.”
“Okay… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
He sat on the sofa and felt like crying, although no tears would come. He sent her a message apologising for how abrupt he had been and waited for a reply. None came.
After all the events of the last few days, Ethan felt as
if he was catching his breath after running a marathon and could not stand the prospect of spending the day by himself. He flicked through the contacts in his mobile and could not be bothered to call any of his university friends. He stopped on Mo’s number and thought that he had not seen him outside work for a few weeks. He rang it without any expectation that he would be free.
“Hi Eth, what’s up?”
“All right, how are you? All well?”
“Yeah fine, just the usual shit, you know. The whole weekend meet and greet the family blah. Better than work though, eh?”
“Tell me about it. I was just wondering on the off-chance, are you free for a drink later?”
“Erm… yeah, why not? Hasna’s gone to her mum and dad’s for the day so I’m pretty much free. What time were you thinking?”
“Let’s say, three?”
“That’s good for me. I’ve got to do a few bits round the house but I’ll be done by then. Usual place?”
“Course. Cool, see you later.”
“Okay, see ya.”
Ethan felt a sense of relief.
The afternoon before he went out seemed like dead time. The knowledge that he could easily sleep for a few hours, that no one would know the difference, prayed on his mind. He watched the MV mindlessly, making time slip away until he noticed with a start that he had to go.
Mohammed grinned when seeing him, making Ethan copy his expression.
“Pleased to see me, are ya?”
“Mate, you know that I can’t stand to be away from you. I only go on leave to keep up appearances.”
“You’re not lying either.”
“You know I’m not.”
Ethan laughed.
“Come on, get inside, I don’t want you standing here staring at me all day. It’s embarrassing.”
“That’s what you say now.”
They went into the fac and bantered and drank for a few minutes until Ethan said, “Pete was funny with Hugo after you left Friday.”