by Seth Rain
‘Now I know I definitely don’t like that one.’ She placed the phone on the counter.
Scott smiled. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She tucked stray strands of hair behind an ear and held the phone to the side of her face. Then she brought it in front of her and stared at the screen.
‘Besides, this one has a bigger screen,’ she said. ‘I like the bigger screen.’
‘It does.’
She glanced back at the pokey office space, then leaned towards Scott and whispered, ‘I think he wants me to buy the machine-learning one.’
‘It’s more expensive,’ he whispered back.
‘I’m going to disappoint him, aren’t I?’
‘Don’t worry about that.’
‘He’s coming back. Will you stay with me? I hate these conversations with salesmen.’
Scott smiled again.
‘So,’ the assistant said, ‘have you made the right choice?’
‘I like this one,’ she said.
The assistant made a hissing noise. ‘Are you sure? It’s not going to last you as long as this other model.’
‘I’m sure,’ she said, and glanced at Scott.
Scott nodded. ‘I think that’s the right choice.’
The assistant frowned at Scott.
‘Has a bigger screen,’ Scott said. ‘It’s what you want.’
The assistant’s shoulders dropped. ‘Just a minute,’ he said, and took the phone into the back of the shop.
‘He’s not happy with me,’ the woman said.
‘Take no notice. It’s a good choice.’ Scott scanned the shop. ‘Anyway, enjoy your new phone.’
‘You haven’t bought anything,’ she said.
‘I was only looking.’
She smiled. ‘Thank you…’
‘Scott,’ he said.
‘Rebecca.’
He rubbed the back of his head.
‘I’d ask for your number,’ she said, holding up her old phone, ‘but I have nowhere to record it.’ She showed him the smashed black screen reflecting a distorted version of Scott’s face back at him. ‘Maybe you could help me work out the new phone. I hate it when they’re new and I have no idea how to work it.’
‘That’s the fun part,’ he said.
You think so?’
‘What if I took your number instead?’
‘You could, but…’ Again, she held up her old phone and puffed out a laugh.
‘You don’t know your number?’
Her face coloured. ‘You could wait with me. Then you could show me how to use the new one.’
Scott checked his watch.
‘Unless you have to be somewhere?’ she asked.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I have nowhere I have to be.’
Five
The closer the train got to New Street Station, the thicker the air became; faint swirls of smog rolled lazily across the floor of the carriage, the visibility lessening with each passing moment.
Paul, now awake, pointed to the huge towers above Birmingham, several massive cranes next to the skeleton of the tallest construction Scott had ever seen.
‘There is an irony that many seem to understand but do nothing about,’ Paul said. ‘That the pollution they are escaping with these tall buildings is being generated by the very industry needed to fuel their ascent into the clouds.’
An aeroplane’s blinking lights shifted from left to right before vanishing in a swirl of grey smog.
There was a grinding sound as the train slowed down for the station.
‘Keep your date out of sight,’ Paul said.
Scott rolled his hand into a fist.
‘I will know where you are,’ Paul said, pointing to the tracker on his wrist.
Scott frowned.
‘It’s only to keep you safe.’
The train let out a loud hiss. It was only the two of them and the old lady waiting to get off the train. There were many people waiting outside to board the train away from Birmingham.
The doors opened. After waiting for the old lady to step onto the platform, the Watcher led the way up the stairs to the station above. ‘I must leave you here,’ he said. ‘Freya will find you.’
Scott was about to speak, to ask him about what the old woman on the train had said, but Paul had vanished into the station.
There were several Watchers in the station. Scott wondered how many others like him were close by. Maybe the people he passed knew about his date. He was used to people knowing, but had never grown accustomed to the effect it had on them. There were two sorts of people: those who envied him and those who pitied him. The division was as sure as the division it caused in those who were Chosen. Everyone knew that the Chosen either saw their date as reason to celebrate or to fear. Those who celebrated tended to live each year as if it was their last. For many, this meant living in a place like Birmingham where bars, women and hallucinogens were readily available. Those who feared their date did all they could to work out ways of refuting what they considered their death penalty, and saw those who lived hedonistically as foolish and irresponsible.
Birmingham, Scott had heard, was all stillness and heat, seemingly determined to rise as high into the sky as possible. He’d heard of the lifestyle there: how the construction industry attracted every money-seeking tradesman from the length and breadth of the country. As London, in its luxuriousness and advancement, became more and more decadent, the more the Second City of Birmingham retreated from national affairs and isolated itself from the rest of the country, Europe and the world.
Scott stumbled as he walked towards the exit. He noticed two Watchers speak then glance at him. The date on Scott’s hand gained weight. He became more aware of his gait, of his shoulders and arms as he walked. The thick grey air outside was held back by a wall of glass at the station exit. The smog crawled across and up the glass walls, spilling in when the automatic doors opened and closed. As Scott passed the two Watchers, they met his eye and nodded coldly. One of them was reciting a prayer. The Watchers, he thought, really believed in what was written in Revelations: so much so, they devoted their life to those who had been Chosen.
The huge doors opened for him. He was about to walk into the Birmingham smog when a woman’s voice called him back.
‘Wait,’ she said. ‘We can’t leave that way.’
She was short, with long red hair that fell over the shoulders of a dark green coat. Something about her was familiar.
‘Freya?’ he asked, his voice catching.
She nodded, her eyes holding his. ‘This way. Follow me.’
Scott followed. ‘Where are we going?’
‘They’re waiting outside.’
‘Who? Paul said no one would know I’m here.’
‘That’s what we thought.’ She walked quickly, trying to appear inconspicuous.
‘Where’s Paul?’
‘God damn!’ she said, slowing to a gentle walk. ‘They’ve seen us.’
Scott spun around.
Freya edged closer. ‘Listen to me. We don’t have much time. They know you’re here. Don’t do anything stupid. You’re going to go with them. Is that clear?’
‘Paul said he doesn’t know what Gabriel will do.’
‘You’re going to be fine.’ She clenched his forearm. ‘If you do as I say.’ Her eyes flashed with command.
Scott nodded, fixated on her eyes. He turned as he felt the presence of someone behind him.
‘Mr Beck?’ a male voice asked.
Scott wanted to know what to say but Freya was gone and he was surrounded by Watchers in grey coats.
‘Yes,’ Scott said.
One of the men, tall, too young for his white hair, stepped forward and nodded at his hand.
‘Can I?’ he asked.
Scott showed his date.
‘Congratulations,’ the Watcher said. ‘Another year.’
Scott cupped his tattooed hand inside his other hand.
‘We have been waiting for you,’ the Watcher said. ‘Wo
uld you come with us? There is someone who would like to speak to you.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘All will become clear. You are not in danger. In fact, we have something to talk about, for which you might thank us.’
It was clear he had no choice. Scott nodded his agreement to follow them. The glass doors to the station opened. Scott crossed the street to where three other Watchers were waiting.
‘Mr Beck?’ one of them asked, reaching out a hand. Scott had seen the man before, but not in person. It was Gabriel Winters, one of the three creators of the AI. Scott shook his hand, which, like everything about him, was long, thin and insect-like.
‘My name is Gabriel. I hope you don’t mind us meeting you here.’ He gestured to the Watchers surrounding Scott, then glanced at his hand. ‘We need to talk.’
‘We do?’
‘Indeed. Come with me; it is very important.’
Everything told Scott to refuse. But he nodded anyway, remembering what Freya had told him. He checked the street, looking for a reason to leave, an excuse that would make sense, but all he saw was dense fog spilling down from the roof of the train station, billowing clouds onto the street.
Six
Freya dodged through the flood of people walking towards her through the train station, all the time checking over her shoulder for Gabriel’s Watchers. She nudged and bustled her way through, ignoring the occasional protest from those she struck. She turned a corner to avoid the masses of people coming up from the platforms beneath. As she did, someone grabbed her shoulder and pulled her backwards.
‘This way,’ a male voice said. She was pulled one way then another until she was shown into a recess in the wall next to a café. She faced the man, hoping not to see one of Gabriel’s Watchers.
‘Paul!’ she said. ‘I thought they’d found you.’
‘They have. I’m being followed – Gabriel knows. Take this.’ He unstrapped Scott’s tracker from his wrist and pushed it into her hand. ‘Find Scott. You know the code.’
‘Come with me,’ she said. ‘We can outrun them.’
Paul shook his head. ‘We won’t. Take it. I’ll keep them busy.’
Freya checked the tracker in her hand.
‘We don’t have time,’ Paul said. ‘You must help Scott reach Mathew before Gabriel gets to him.’
‘What if Mathew doesn’t want to listen?’
‘He must!’ Paul said urgently, staring. ‘He must listen. This is too important. You have to make him listen.’
‘What if I can’t? You’re the only one who—’
‘Freya,’ Paul said, his hands resting on her shoulders, ‘you can do this.’
‘You said he’d given up. We tried to help him before and it came to no good.’
Paul sighed. ‘Maybe he has given up. I don’t know. But we have to try.’
Freya stared. Paul was always so sure of himself, of what needed to be done. She wanted to feel the same way about the world, but Paul was different to anyone she’d met.
‘Freya?’ he said.
She nodded. ‘Yes. I can do it.’
‘Follow Scott,’ he said. ‘Help him. He’s important.’
She nodded again and strapped the tracker onto her wrist and entered the code.
‘They’re coming,’ Paul said. ‘I will stop them and give you time to disappear.’
‘Are you going to be okay?’ Freya asked, holding his arm.
‘I’ll be fine. Now go!’ He pushed her away.
Freya walked quickly, absorbed into another stream of commuters emerging from a platform beneath, heading towards an exit. There was no sign of Gabriel’s Watchers. When she saw the way out, she sped up and jogged out of the doors before sliding into one of the self-driving Omni-Taxis waiting outside.
‘Hello,’ the female electronic voice said. ‘What is your destination?’
Freya tapped the tracker on her wrist. ‘I’m a Watcher, tracking one of the Chosen. I’m sending you the coordinates.’
‘Very good,’ the voice said. ‘Please look into the screen for eye recognition and payment.’
Freya did as she was asked. The lights inside the Omni-Taxi blinked from yellow to green, and the self-driver pulled out into the traffic.
Seven
Scott leaned closer to the window in the self-driver. Now and then the smog lifted enough for him to see further into the poorly lit streets. Daybreak was still hours away. The more time he spent travelling through Birmingham, the more he imagined daylight had shunned the city for far longer than one night. The self-driver hurried through the streets and alleyways, which became narrower and more nondescript as they travelled further from New Street Station and the city centre. Finally, the self-driver rolled to a stop outside a hotel.
The white-haired Watcher opened the door for Scott. The street was quiet but still Scott waited for Paul or Freya to emerge from the smog. He followed Gabriel through the large glass doors of the hotel.
Inside was an expansive lobby with high, red-wallpapered walls, ornate chandeliers and gold ornamentation. On the walls hung paintings of the apocalyptic images Scott had become accustomed to seeing ever since the connection to the 144,000 had been made and the book of Revelations had become so important. Even he found it difficult to ignore the facts and had considered, even if only briefly, that the end of days was coming. As he walked through the lobby and into a wide corridor, the pictures grew in size and vehemence.
They walked up three flights of stairs and made their way along a passageway. Finally, the white-haired Watcher opened a door for Gabriel. Scott followed him inside. Gabriel took off his coat and handed it to a Watcher with huge shoulders and arms.
Gabriel’s face was flushed. ‘I have much to explain. And we have little time.’
Scott waited.
Gabriel’s arms jerked, his fingers now and then spreading wide before being snatched back into tight fists, his knuckles white. Scott sensed anxiety in his movements; it made him roll his own hands into fists. Gabriel gestured to the chairs by the fire. ‘A drink?’
Scott pursed his lips in hesitation, nodded, then sat.
Gabriel leaned over a silver tray, the bones of his spine visible through the material of his shirt, poured a large whisky, drank it in one go, then poured two more. He gave one to Scott and drank from his own before glancing at the two Watchers who had followed them into the room. Gabriel sighed. ‘What has Paul told you?’
Scott flinched.
‘I know he has spoken to you,’ Gabriel said.
Scott wiped his cheek. ‘He said there’s an issue with my date.’
‘What else did he say?’
‘He said Mathew could help.’
Gabriel pushed aside one of the curtains covering the small sash window and tilted his head. Outside, in the darkness, it was raining. He opened the window a little then finished his whisky and inhaled deeply. ‘What I’m going to tell you might be difficult for you to understand.’
Scott waited.
‘From the beginning,’ Gabriel said, ‘there was a problem with your date. For all we know, the AI still can’t read your date.’
‘The beginning?’ Scott asked.
Gabriel squinted and shook his head. ‘I’ve started in the wrong place.’ He stared into his glass. ‘I worked on the AI with Mathew Gladwell and Juliet Stead.’
‘Yes,’ Scott said. ‘Of course.’
‘No one else’s date was an issue,’ Gabriel went on. ‘That I’m aware of. Although, if there is a problem with yours, there could be more.’
‘Why mine?’
Gabriel shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘What does it mean?’
Gabriel walked to the table by the window and poured more whisky. ‘Paul has taken it upon himself to deliver you to Mathew. Mathew knows who you are, but doesn’t believe there’s any concern over your date. I didn’t know it was you whose date was wrong. But when I heard that Paul had contacted you and was taking you to see Mathew, I was sure you w
ere one of the anomalies.’
‘This isn’t making any sense,’ Scott said.
‘As I said, we have little time. And explaining things isn’t going to help, and in the end, will be pointless.’
‘Pointless? I may as well leave now, then.’ Scott stood.
The two Watchers in the room shuffled closer.
‘It’s okay,’ Gabriel said, gesturing to them. ‘I can understand your frustration, Scott.’
Scott sniffed, staring at the white-haired Watcher. ‘I don’t think you can.’
Gabriel dragged a finger across his top lip. ‘Tell me. What is your position on what has happened? The 144,000?’
The white-haired Watcher held Scott’s stare.
‘You are one of the Chosen,’ Gabriel said. ‘What does it feel like?’
Scott’s gaze lifted to the ceiling. ‘If there is a problem with my date, then maybe I’m not one of the Chosen.’
‘Nevertheless, you believed you were.’
Scott’s glass was nearly empty. He stared into it and answered. ‘It was a relief. To know my decisions were not decisions at all. Everything was already set, unchangeable.’
‘To not have free will?’ Gabriel walked across the room, his steps quiet. He stared at Scott, his eyes fierce. ‘Do you not believe we have free will?’
Scott stared back. ‘Free will died ten years ago. When the AI gave you the dates.’
Gabriel raised his chin, exhaled noisily, and placed his glass on the fireplace. ‘This is why you are here, Scott.’
Scott shifted in his seat and stared at the muscular Watcher, whose expression didn’t alter. ‘I’m here because you and your Watchers brought me here.’
‘Tell me, Scott. Do you want free will to be true?’
‘It doesn’t matter if I do or I don’t. All there is, is the truth.’
‘The truth,’ Gabriel said. ‘We are all searching for the truth, no matter how many lies we have to tell to get it.’
‘Either we have free will or we don’t,’ Scott said. ‘There’s no in between.’
‘Don’t you see? You are the key. Your date, if it’s wrong, changes everything. If the AI is wrong about your date, it could be wrong about other dates, it could be wrong about…’