“Sarah, open your eyes. Have you never seen the Guardians which control the perimeter? Besides, after what happened in Gamma, everybody is going to on red alert. I have to try to help. I've been running from people who need me all my life. I can't do it again.”
“But now I need you.” Sarah was perhaps for the first time genuine. She really was frightened, and Zack could see it scored into every crease in the skin of her face. Zack took his hands away from the door and reached down to take hers. She was shaking. He leaned in close and whispered. “Sarah, listen to me. I lived my whole life like nothing and nobody else mattered. Everything was about me. That way I thought I would never get hurt. But it didn’t work like that. When I lost people that pain stayed with me. It’s been hurting ever since.”
“But now is the time to think about you. We have a lot to lose.”
“Our lives?” Zack said, as he glanced towards Serena. “Do you want her to be killed trying to escape? I might never have seen a Denunciation Ceremony, but I can imagine it doesn’t exactly follow the Adoration of Life.” He waited for them to contest it. Neither of them did. “You see. I can’t let that happen. I can’t leave her to sort this out on her own. She came to me looking for help, and if I back away from her now, it’s like I allow the person I used to be back in. You told me to be brave, but I was always brave enough. It was brave for me to tell the woman I loved that I didn’t want the baby she was carrying before the war began. Then I lost her and never got a chance to put that mistake right.”
He didn’t want to look up for fear of seeing their judgement. He wondered if Serena was regretting her decision to ask him for help. But then he realised that she hadn’t really asked for help. All she wanted to know was where the wall was incomplete. He had got involved all on his own. That realisation gave him the strength to push forwards. He looked up at Sarah, his chest puffed out and chin held high. He knew that for the first time he was doing what he knew to be right. If it felt this good, it had to be the right thing.
“What I want to be is courageous, Sarah. I want to do the right thing for once. For her, and for me. He wanted her to see that he wasn't just trying to save Serena. By helping her protect her unborn child, he was recovering part of his past. Doing the right thing when faced with something difficult, when there were many other simpler choices which he could take. It might as well have been Samantha in the room with him.
“And what about the right thing by me? Are you sure this is not just about Emily? I know you have feelings for her.”
“Of course it's about Emily. That's what we were just discussing. She might be the only way to get Serena over the border. I know that she has the capability to get in and out whenever she wants to. I know she can help us.”
“That's not what I meant. I saw the way you looked at her earlier. I know what you feel when you see her face.” She snatched at his arms, forcing him to look her in the eye. Serena took a step back and sat on the chair.
“Are you for real?” He couldn’t believe it. Did he really have to deal with jealousy right now? “Are you actually serious when you say that?” Zack shook his head before turning to look at Serena, rolling his eyes to demonstrate his complete exasperation. He knew that what Sarah was saying bore a modicum of truth, but why couldn't she see that he was trying to help save a life. More than one. He flung her hands away from him and pulled open the door. He stormed out, but when he heard the door open behind him he turned to see Sarah standing there. Her face was red-angry, a mixture of anguish and embarrassment. He didn’t know if she wanted him to leave or stay. She probably didn’t know either.
“Don't worry, Sarah. If I have got you pregnant I will stand up and say it's mine. I won't leave you to face a Denunciation Ceremony. Not like you'd have Serena face.”
He began to march away, but as he took a step he stumbled over the primroses that Sarah had planted only days before. Petals and soil erupted over his trousers and fell to the floor. The peace that had existed between them as she bathed him while he confessed his sins seemed like such a long time ago. The metres between them felt like an abyss. Sarah wanted to be here, and she believed that living in Omega was her best option. She did not crave the freedom of outside. They would never find common ground on which to build a life together. As they stood staring at each other across the abyss that had always been there, he realised that they both knew it.
“You will if they realise what you're trying to do. They’ll assume I am part of your grand plan.” He tried to ignore the fact that he knew she was right. If his plan to get Serena out was to go wrong, surely it would be Sarah that paid the ultimate price. As he turned to walk away he heard the door slam before he had even turned the corner.
Chapter Thirty Six
Even as he pressed the button in the lift for the presidential suite he had half expected it not to work. But it lit up, and the lift began to ascend.
When the doors opened there were two Guardians standing on guard. They were dressed in the familiar uniform of Delta Tower, minus the black balaclavas. Both had their hands on their Assisters. But besides the missing balaclava there was another difference about them that reassured Zack. They were sharp, yes, but instead of looking set for a fight they had the look of soldiers on parade. They were standing to attention as they should be, their shoulders back, their chests puffed out, and their uniforms crisp, their hands on their Assisters. They were here according to regulation. They didn't have that dangerous edge that he expected from a Guardian in Delta. These two weren't expecting trouble, and neither did they want it.
“Good afternoon, our good President.” One of the Guardians took a step forwards. Zack felt a rather as if he was at the entrance of an exclusive bar or nightclub. If they had turned him away because of how he was dressed he wouldn't have been surprised. The Guardian held out his hand in expectation. Zack obliged and offered out his hand. The Guardian held the scanner to Zack’s tattooed wrist and after a moment of heat on the skin the scanner buzzed. “Praise our good President,” the Guardian said as a positive acknowledgement. The expected formal response. “Mr. Christian, welcome to the Presidential Suite. What business do you have here today?” The other Guardian also took a step forward, the leather of his boots creaking with the movement of his foot.
“It is imperative that I speak with our good President.” Zack tried to use the correct terminology but he was aware that his use of the Omega Tower phraseology was less than convincing. He fiddled with his fingers, tried to dart his eyes back and forth between the two Guardians to make them believe it was urgent. But he was aware that this had the potential to make him look nervous, and that couldn’t be good. He calmed himself down, and tried to act normally. Normal by Omega Tower standards.
“We have not been informed of any appointments. The president is not expecting you.”
Anything longer than an immediate response was bound to make Zack look even less as if he belonged here, but he couldn't help it.
Zack took a step forwards. “I do appreciate that he is not expecting me. But the matter that has come to my attention was unexpected. It really is essential that I speak with him.” Neither Guardian appeared impressed by Zack's insistence. Neither did they seem convinced by his story. “It's a matter of national security,” he threw in at the last minute.
The Guardian who had remained silent took a quick glance at his colleague before walking towards a desk where two other Guardians were sitting. At least Zack had their attention now, which he could feel from each set of eyes cast in his direction. He searched the room for a distraction on which he could focus. The first time he came here he was lost in enthusiasm, and later captivated by seeing Emily again. But now he noticed that the floor was made from highly polished marble. Artworks hung on the wall. One, if he wasn’t mistaken, looked like a Monet. Blue Water Lilies. He remembered how he used to know about such things. On his left and there was a series of black leather armchairs, each of which appeared illuminated from underneath giving them the ap
pearance that they were floating above the ground. To their side there was a series of lamps, all throwing out the kind of golden light which would make a person feel warm on even the coldest of days. After a period of uncomfortable silence, the Guardians at the desk stood up and walked towards Zack. The other Guardian trailed behind.
“Mr Christian. My colleague informs me that you wish to discuss a matter of national security with the president.” Zack nodded. He pulled his fingers apart to stop himself twiddling. “Your method of approach is quite irregular. We have never been forced to anticipate such an unexpected arrival in the presidential suite.” Zack swallowed hard. Nobody had done this before. That’s why the Guardians looked as if they were on parade. Nobody had ever dared approach without an explicit invitation, so why would they expect it? It meant that it wasn’t just Zack who was winging it. Everybody was improvising. One of them seemed to be distracted by the dirt on Zack’s trousers.
“I tripped in the flower bed,” Zack said, instantly regretting his willingness to verbalise every thought. He should have looked more confident. Stiletto footsteps echoed behind him like a hammer driving a nail into a wall. The click clack of high heels against the marble floor grew louder, and the Guardians straightened themselves up. Back into formation.
“Mr. Christian,” the woman said behind him before Zack had even had a chance to turn around. The woman behind him was no older than thirty, dressed in a smart business suit which gave off echoes from the past. It was the same grey as the darkest veins in the white marble floor. She was vaguely familiar but from where, he didn’t know. Her auburn hair had been pulled back and wound into a large French twist, but he imagined that in reality it was long. It was the colour of autumn, one of his favourite seasons. It was the only warm thing about her.
She was carrying something that looked like a cross between a pane of glass and a clipboard, similar to Dr. Watson’s. She was tapping at it with a perfectly manicured finger, and he remembered that he was supposed to attend for his weekly manicure this afternoon. He had chewed the nails so they had become brittle and flaked. The skin too, which had drawn blood to the surface.
“You do not have an appointment with the president today, and your appearance on this level is unacceptable. There is a system in place whereby if you have any concerns which you wish to relay to the president, you may do so at the end of your Renunciation Pledge. Although I note from my records here, that you have missed several days over the last couple of weeks. If indeed you had attended as you were supposed to, you would perhaps realise this already.”
The woman spoke with an air of superiority, the voice of an unapologetic sense of purpose. He could imagine her in the old world, strutting about her office with a sense of importance, secure in the knowledge that every male with whom she worked would like to sleep with her. Zack would have been one of them. There had been women in his old building like that. It was strange to think that those same women had become the residents of Delta. In the harshest of conditions, such trivialities in life soon get lost. Survival became more important. Whatever it took.
“I think I'm still trying to get used to the routine.”
“Then it would appear that you need to spend more time with your adjustment coordinator. If he was doing his job as he is supposed to do his job, I don't think that you and I would be having this conversation.” The woman turned to the Guardian nearest to her. “Please arrange for Simon to be brought here. It would seem we have matters to discuss.” She turned back to address Zack. It was the first time that she had made eye contact with him. “Mr. Christian, please allow me to escort you towards the lift whereby you can descend to level seventeen. I suggest upon your arrival you go directly to perform your Renunciation Pledge for today. I hope you realise that my suggestion is not optional. I will also arrange for an appointment with your relocation therapist so that we can assess just exactly how well you are adjusting to life in Omega Tower.”
“But there is a very important matter relating to national security which I must discuss with the president.” The ice-cold woman placed her hand behind Zack's back even before he had finished speaking. Her breath had a distinct aroma, something Zack couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. She licked her lips and she encouraged him towards the door. The chill from her skin spread through his body like a wave of pins and needles.
“Then after completing your Renunciation Pledge I suggest you remain in the booth. You will be given an option to leave a message for the staff that control Omega Tower. At that moment in time you can describe your concerns and the president will address any issues as necessary.”
They arrived at the entrance to the lift before she had finished speaking. Each of the Guardians now had their eyes trained on him, and each seemed intent on ensuring his departure. Perhaps they were pleased to have a bit of excitement, and in Zack’s eyes that made them even more dangerous than the likes of Croft or Sam in Delta. The woman forced Zack back into the lift and the same smell on her breath radiated over his shoulder. She reached forwards and pressed the button for level seventeen.
“Your adjustment coordinator will schedule an appointment with you for this evening. A little out of the ordinary to be working at such an hour, but we are a dedicated and determined team and your integration into Omega Tower is our utmost priority and in no way optional. For the sake of our good President.”
“The information was about Gamma Tower,” Zack offered as a last desperate attempt at forcing them to listen to him. He had thought if he could just stay in the Presidential Suite long enough he would get a chance to talk to Emily. He thought if she could just hear him talking, then she would come to him. But it was a pointless effort because the doors of the lift were already closing and within only minutes of arriving he was on his way back to level seventeen.
Chapter Thirty Seven
When the doors to the lift opened on the next level the last face that Zack was expecting to see was that of Emily. She was protected by two Guardians, her body enveloped from both sides by a blanket of white. She stepped into the lift and one of the Guardians put his boot against the door to prevent it from closing. The other walked past Zack and to the back of the lift. He stood with his back to them, his eyes on the levels below. The small box made of glass filled with the scent of jasmine and sage. Her hair was cascading over her shoulder and a few stray strands rested on her face as if she had just stepped inside from a windy day. After the smell of the other woman, it was the most refreshing change he could have imagined.
“Sshh, Don't say anything,” she whispered, looking down at the dirt on his trousers as she pushed him towards the centre of the lift. Zack could feel a tingling in his arm, desperation taking over him to reach up and touch her. He interlocked his fingers quickly before he lost control of himself. He could hear Sarah whining at him, her accusations about how he had feelings for Emily that not even he could explain. He gritted his teeth in the hope that she would fade away.
I saw the way you looked at her. I know what you feel when you see her face.
“What did you come here for, Zack? People just don't walk up to the Presidential Suite with the intention of talking to my father.” There was little time to waste with formality or tiptoeing around the subject. He needed Emily's help.
“To speak to you.”
“To speak to me?” She was so shocked she almost laughed. “Clearly you are not very successful at achieving your objectives.”
“I wouldn’t say that. What are we doing now?” She took a step back towards doors of the lift and with one hand resting on the shoulder of the Guardian she whispered something in his ear. But her eyes never left Zack. He felt the other Guardian shift behind him.
“What could you possibly want to talk to me about? Routes into Delta?” There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice, but not in a patronising way. It was as if she was teasing him for his efforts, but yet appreciated them at the same time. “Or perhaps about the fact that you keep missing yo
ur Renunciation Pledge.”
Zack took a step back and to the side as far back from any one of them as he could get. He stretched his hands out against the wall of the lift. This was a bad idea. As good as she looked, and smelt, and felt, this was a bad idea. She was the president’s daughter. What was he expecting? He looked at the buttons and saw number seventeen still illuminated. His mind was already stretching to the breaks in the perimeter wall. How could he get Serena out? Could he even do it without Emily’s help? Could he follow?
“Don't panic, I'm not monitoring you. I overheard you speaking with Margareta.” Zack continued to stare at Emily with a look of confusion or suspicion, his almost normal length eyebrows wrinkling towards his eyes. “The woman that you were just speaking to. The woman who walks around with a stick up her arse.”
“You might not be monitoring me, but she definitely is. She knows exactly what I have and haven't done.”
Emily shook her head. “She doesn't know exactly what you have and have not done. If she did, you and I would not be having this conversation,” she said, mocking Margareta’s accent.
“What do you mean by that?” Zack was torn between the need to ask for her help and the desperation to learn what the hell was really going on in Omega Tower. He took another step back, this time so that his body was up against the glass wall with nowhere else to go. Emily reached forwards and grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards the centre of the lift.
“Don't get so close to the edge.” He could see that her breathing had become laboured. Their faces were only inches from each other. He could feel the heat of her breath drifting towards his face, just like he could in NAVIMEG. There was a sweet smell on her breath, like fruit, strawberries perhaps. “I'm terrified of heights. Anyway,” she said followed by a deep breath, “you are right. She is watching you. But there are eyes and ears everywhere, Zack. Some of those eyes and ears work for the Republic. But not everybody sees the world quite as the Republic would like them to.”
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