Minions

by Addison, Garrett

  Chapter - 87.

  The coffee had not improved in the 24 hours since Devlin last sampled some from the café. Yesterday, he was oblivious to how bad it would be, but today even though he was expecting it, he was too distracted to brace himself fully. Glen appeared to be content to flit through any of a pile of magazines and Devlin found the guy’s smugness intolerable. Between the coffee and the look on Glen’s face, he found it hard to even think coherently.

  “Are you comfortable with things yet?” asked Glen.

  “Not really. Perhaps if it was Malcolm who appeared before Whitely and the Detective left, then maybe I might have put it together by now.”

  “But it wasn’t,” Glen said nonchalantly.

  Devlin continued thinking, but there was nothing logical in the manner that he thought. As confused as he was, his thoughts darted randomly and spasmodically between what he’d heard, what he’d seen, what he’d read, and who he’d met over the preceding days. He thought about the list of names, as apparently incomplete as it was, and how Glen had been so disinterested himself in what it represented, but how he’d been so supportive for related discovery. He thought about Tania and how his initial sadness for her recent loss had evolved through suspicion when David’s message entered the mix. When he learnt of her role in the death of Whitely’s wife, Alan’s daughter, he couldn’t help but soften his sadness, as if her loss was offset, even lessened, by the loss that she’d caused to someone else. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on whether she deserved it, but that made him ponder David’s references to ‘karma’. If karma was really at play, or divine intervention as he might have described it, then it did beg the question as to how some degree of balance might be achieved.

  Devlin tried not to think about David’s death. He didn’t really know David, and if he was honest, he didn’t like him either. With enough time, the simple fact that he was gone would not rate a mention in his memory, except for the way that he’d been found, or more importantly that Devlin himself had found him. He could have done without that picture on his mind. A mass of pallid skin spinning centrally around the room on a fast cycle above a suite full of blood covered furniture. He avoided any consideration as to why David might have done it to himself, primarily because he wasn’t certain that he had actually done it to himself. That the Police or the coroner would inevitably make their decision on that front was justification enough for him to think about ‘why’ rather than ‘who’. Perhaps David was carrying a volume of baggage and stress from his past that caught up with him or wouldn’t leave him. Perhaps the guy found the stress at LastGasp’ too much. Perhaps these stresses were one and the same. Devlin felt as if he had made progress.

  That David would join LastGasp’ with some stresses, regardless of his background or history was a reasonable assumption. The guy was human. Everyone has a history. Glen and all his disciples had told him that. The hotel manager had even said that all of Glen’s employees attracted media attention which was sure to be a sign that they came to LastGasp’ with at least some history. Thereafter surely media attention would have to be directed squarely at LastGasp’ itself, rather than individual employees … and that couldn’t happen. So David joined and LastGasp’ didn’t make his problems go away. Maybe LastGasp’ even made his problems worse or wouldn’t allow him to move on.

  “If you won’t answer my question of why David died, can you at least tell me why he joined?”

  “You’re the first to ask that. I put up with no end of innuendo about why people leave and perhaps what they do afterwards, but no-one ever gives me credit for why people join.”

  “So his joining wasn’t a result of some random meeting on a train?”

  “Well yes. There was nothing co-incidental that led to him joining LastGaspStore, just like the rest of my employees. You included, but you’d worked that out obviously.”

  Devlin shrugged, a little wary of the fact that he’d needed Whitely’s assistance to understand even that detail. Looking back it was probably blatantly obvious, but at the time he was so prepared to accept that an opportunity would have to appear from out of the blue that when it actually came, he didn’t question it.

  “I extended the opportunity to David, just as to you, for largely the same reason. He wanted to reclaim his life, just like you.”

  “So where does Malcolm fit in then?”

  “He doesn’t.”

  “Others disagree.”

  “Others are wrong. I’m trying to show you something.”

  “So this is about Malcolm?”

  “No,” Glen replied, sloshing the last of his coffee in his cup before pushing it aside. “When I told you about Malcolm, Sampson, I said we had a parting of ways. But in reality I do keep loose tabs on what he’s doing.”

  “So what are we doing here then, right now?”

  “We could be here for the coffee, but clearly that’s a lie. Or we could be here, now, because at this time, in this place, because this is the single best place to understand.

  “You think a little Devlin. I sense you are close.”

  Devlin did not have the heart to quash Glen’s confidence. He felt no closer to any epiphany. Minutes passed while he retraced his thoughts, hoping that perhaps he might identify something that he’d missed the last time, but nothing revealed itself. He tried something else. “So who was that guy?”

  “What guy?” Glen replied teasingly.

  “The guy who made you all sit up and take notice, and then when he left you all had a group hug.

  “He’s no-one particularly special. You’ll read about him, or those like him, every day.”

  “In the papers or at LastGasp’?”

  “Both.”

  “So what protocol would apply to him then?” Devlin asked. “Would I know him from a LastGasp’ message?”

  “All of the bastard protocols have applied to him at some time.”

  “So you knew and you did nothing?”

  “Not at all. We’re here aren’t we.”

  “Based on what you said the other day about that woman at the café getting dragged into the taxi, I wouldn’t have thought that would be enough.”

  “When you lie in bed at night, you can contemplate whether this is enough.”

  “Does that mean that you sleep well at night?”

  “Not particularly, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t, Devlin.”

  “And Malcolm? Does he make it harder or easier to have a clear conscience?

  “He does. For me. And he should for you too.”

  “So Malcolm does your dirty work?” Devlin asked without any confidence. “His abstraction protects LastGasp’, I guess.”

  “Malcolm’s hands are clean. He’s just an observer.”

  Devlin picked up on a similarity with what the Detective had said before he left. “So does this mean that Malcolm is an active observer?”

  Glen only smiled.

  “So why didn’t he help Angie then?”

  “He did, or he will.”

  “You know she accused me of attacking her.”

  “She’ll get over it, just give her time. I’m sure Malcolm put in a good word for you.” Glen tried his best to sound reassuring.

  “But who is she?”

  “Angie? She’s just some victim that Malcolm found. They’re everywhere if you care to look.”

  “And you’re not going to do anything to help her?”

  “Her life is about to significantly improve. Chances are I’ll offer her job and give her the same opportunity that I gave you.”

  Devlin thought a little, content that he’d scored a minor victory. “So what about Tania?”

  “Alright. Based on what you know, are you likely to be more compassionate for the Detective or Tania, or Whitely for that matter?”

  “If I had to choose, I’d say the Detective, though it’s a line call with Whitely.”

  “You’ve read Tania’s history. You don’t think that she’s been through enough?” Glen allowed Devl
in a little time to think.

  “But did she deserve all she’s got?”

  “I try to distance myself from such debate, but it’s interesting that you’d ask that question. You think someone deserved to die just because of some groundless innuendo about you.”

  Devlin accepted the comment.

  “As difficult as it may be for you to understand at the moment, you’ve already proven your worth for the greater good.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Devlin asked aggressively, but his mood was immediately subdued by his own thought process. In particular, he dwelled on what he’d learnt in the research interface.

  Glen continued only after he saw some acceptance on Devlin’s face. “You should be able to raise your head high for your part.”

  “But what I read in the research interface told me ...”

  “The greater good is not all about you, Devlin. That’s why we’re here, so you understand that much.”

  “So why did we need to come here?”

  “If you hadn’t come here you might never have understood the greater good.

  “I still don’t.”

  “Think about it,” said Glen. “One thing you should now know from the messages is that bad people exist, possibly hidden under a thin veneer of good, just as good people can exist largely hidden by what others choose to see. Far be it for me to suggest that there is good in everyone, but everyone can contribute to a greater good.”

  Devlin searched for the poignancy in what Glen was saying. “I don’t see how this affects me.”

  “I just want you to see what Malcolm is doing.”

  “If Malcolm is doing anything then maybe LastGasp’ isn’t as secure as you think.”

  “How do you think that may be then?”

  “Alright. I figure Albert gets told stuff, maybe everything, by your readers when they need a little headspace. Doesn’t that constitute a leak?”

  “Albert is indirectly harmless. He’s only interested in finding Malcolm, which isn’t a concern. If you look into their common history you’ll work that much out for yourself without any effort at all.”

  “The fire?”

  Glen shook his head. “Malcolm, Sam, taught me a lot, but to do so, he needed to make a point. I would have preferred that he did this differently, but that isn’t what happened. Albert is concerned that his legacy might have been compromised, just like most people would do, if they were at all aware. For this, he’s desperate to find Malcolm.

  “It’s unfortunate, but Malcolm’s actions represented a significant change for LastGaspStore. He forced a serious system rethink.”

  “What about the use of laptops in the bunker? Surely one could be taken out of the building and in the right hands something could be gleaned from it.”

  “You’re assuming that others want what is in LastGaspStore. I thought you’d understand by now that it’s not about what’s in LastGaspStore, but rather what comes from LastGaspStore.”

  “If LastGasp’ is secure then surely they are one and the same thing.”

  “So did I,” Glen said morosely. “Getting at a single machine wouldn’t help anyone because the real power is not in the premature release of secrets, but rather in what secrets dead men, people, tell.”

  “The difference being what exactly?”

  “You can’t challenge a dead man,” said Glen. “Do you ever wonder what the guy you killed might have said in a LastGaspStore message, if in fact he was a member?”

  “No. What?”

  “I have no idea. The point is that he could have said anything, about anyone.”

  “So?”

  “So, what he said is out there. It can’t be withdrawn or retracted. Even more important than that is that it can’t be refuted or challenged. Libel and slander don’t apply and there’s no going back. Think about what can happen when such a message is received.”

  Devlin did as Glen had suggested. Would his life have been different if the guy’s message, if there was one, had said something in his defence? What if such a message had existed but never been brought to public attention, particularly to the attention of either the police or the media? The thought was both inviting and angering. Devlin then had another thought; that the corollary was also true. What if such a message had implicated him? Devlin felt a rising gulp of bile, this time not caused by the coffee.

  Sensing a degree of realisation in the expression on Devlin’s face, Glen continued. “The trouble is that things stay said. Sam worked it out, and I didn’t believe him until I saw it for myself. No protocol could help and no algorithm I could envisage could prevent it. For all my vision I’d inadvertently created a tool of social engineering. Real people armed with untruths and devoid of any recourse could change the world.

  “Your situation, what happened to you, was a classic example. If you can be comfortable that the family of the guy you killed is better off for what you did, then that’s a good thing. That he wasn’t who you thought he was is not important.”

  “But why? Why me?”

  “I can’t say for your case. I never claimed to have all the answers. That your family, your father in particular, shared in your fall is possibly significant. I can’t say.

  “My penance for what I created is to try to make amends, as much as possible, where I could see obvious abuses of the truth. It was the least I could do to try to show people, like yourself, why.

  “When I realised what Sam did I closed that particular avenue for abuse and prevented anyone from creating a message on behalf of someone else.”

  “So what’s Malcolm, or whatever his name is, doing now?”

  “Nothing as far as LastGaspStore is concerned,” said Glen smiling subtly. “What’s more, on account of the system privacy and security I can’t even be sure if he’s a member.”

  “Does that mean that you feed him information on the sly?”

  “He’s not getting anything from me.”

  “But the protocols? Who gets the information?”

  “An incessant reminder of the scope of my creation, nothing more. I certainly don’t do anything with them anymore, though they do serve to focus the attention of my readers.”

  “So why still have them?”

  “That would raise more questions. It’s better that I just keep up the façade.”

  “So how do you explain what Malcolm knows? If he’s not getting it from you, then how would Malcolm know about Angie, or me for that matter?”

  “Malcolm sees what you see, reads what you read and hears what you hear. Admittedly not at LastGaspStore, but that’s irrelevant. He just knows where to look and he’s alert to it. Who he helps is purely the domain of his own conscience.”

  “So why are we here now?”

  “The fact that we are here right now is only to show you that social change can be engineered by good people, not just bad people. And that bad people can do their part.”

  “For the greater good?”

  “Indeed,” said Glen. “For the greater good.”

  Devlin was unconvinced, but quiet.

  Chapter - 88.

  On return to Glen’s car, Devlin finally felt an inclination to ask more questions. He’d been content to walk silently beside Glen the entire walk from the café, just as Glen had appeared satisfied that he’d explained enough to render Devlin silent. He finally felt that he understood enough of LastGasp’, and possibly even of Malcolm to put his mind to rest. Tania however, remained, like an extra piece left over after completing a jigsaw. “How well did Malcolm know Whitely?”

  “Well enough.”

  “And Malcolm knows Tania?”

  “Not that I know of. Certainly not in the biblical sense, but he knows about her.”

  “None of this explains David’s involvement in the death of Tania’s brother.”

  “I didn’t think that was a particular concern of yours. If it’s any consolation, Tim, Tania’s brother, was killed by the very person who the police identified. Case closed. That m
uch has nothing to do with David.”

  “But why?”

  “Who’s to say. Tim happened to be in the right place at the right time with a mentally unstable, paranoid schizophrenic.”

  Glen’s choice of words caught Devlin’s attention. “Not wrong place and wrong time?”

  “The greater good, Devlin. Perhaps you should ask that question of Whitely when next you see him.”

  “Is it worth asking how Tim came to be in this right place at the right time then?”

  “That might be a question for Malcolm. When next you meet with him you might want to ask how he’s doing it.”

  “So what is it about Malcolm?”

  “You have to understand that until Malcolm, I’d seen my vision corrupted despite good intentions. I never meant it to be a tool for others to settle a score without retribution, be that for personal, professional or even cultural gain. My solution of having Readers largely backfired, and who am I to have the final say as to whether a message gets sent.

  “For all my corrupted legacy, Malcolm helped me see that there could be an upside. He wasn’t like other readers. There was nothing in it for him then, just as now.”

  “I still don’t understand what he’s doing,” Devlin said.

  “I hope you learned in the messages that there are good and bad people. I was focused on serving the good and denying the bad, while Malcolm is effectively serving the good by using the bad.”

  “So you let it happen?”

  “If Malcolm wants to help align those in need with those wanting to provide, is that so wrong?”

  “But the guy in the café. That was the guy from the Research Interface and Angie’s LastGasp’ message.”

  Glen smiled. “He’s just someone that Malcolm, Sam, knows. They met long before he met Angie.”

  “But why? Why him? Why don’t you just let the authorities know about him?”

  “What’s to tell,” Glen explained. “There’s nothing that couldn’t be known by anyone who wanted to learn for themselves. You yourself marvelled that he wasn’t in jail. Interpret that as you will, but maybe they don’t want him touched. In the meantime, Malcolm’s clearly got him working for a greater good.”