by Amy Lilwall
‘Does that exist? The anti-aggression thing?’
‘There are measures in place to make them more placid than, shall we say, a normal human being…’
‘But they’re capable of overriding it?’
‘Exactly! Pain is pain, at the end of the day; it can only be endured for so long. There’s a difference between being spontaneously aggressive and being desperate to switch pain off.’
‘I knew it! And all this communication prevention crap, it’s because they’re worried they’ll tell us something compromising, isn’t it?’
‘Susan’s been honing her own little conspiracy theory for quite a while,’ said Hamish. ‘I think she might be on to something, actually.’
Susan tipped her head to one side; did he really think that? He’d never said that to her…
‘I would heartily agree with her,’ said Emma, nodding heartily. ‘Part of the reason they’re so, shall we say, stupid when they first come out of the centre is because of the memory suppressants.’
‘Really?’
‘Mmm-hmm.’ Emma’s wrist started to beep. ‘It’s Meredith,’ she said before answering. ‘Hello? Where are you exactly? Oh right… Are you in convoy?’
Susan had recognized Emma immediately when she’d come running down the stairs earlier and found her sitting well forward on the sofa, clutching her bag on her lap. She got to her feet and leaned over the coffee table to shake Susan’s hand, her fox tail swishing round to the side of her head as she bent forward.
‘I know you from the meeting, don’t I?’
‘Yes. You were there this week, weren’t you?’
‘That’s right.’
Susan rubbed her hands together; this was the part where you’d usually say: ‘Hamish has told me all about you.’ But he hadn’t. So instead she heard herself saying: ‘Hamish hasn’t told me anything about you.’ She giggled and Emma giggled too. ‘Obviously, he has to keep your relationship hush-hush.’ She giggled again. Emma didn’t giggle. Hamish’s face did that thing where it went all expressionless. Finally, Emma giggled and Susan joined in to be polite; but had thought she’d probably embarrassed Hamish. She twisted her hands. What a stupid thing to say. ‘Did you manage to speak to Meredith?’ she chirped, hoping to cover up her last remark.
‘Yes! She’s trying to round people up as we speak. Moira has been working for that company since… I can’t even remember. She’s been there for years.’
Susan put on a serious face. ‘Will she really lose her job over this?’
Emma nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I’m afraid so… But I’m not surprised. The fact that Jinx is talking is unbelievable. It’s really something that we’ve all been waiting for them to be able to…’ She searched for the word, opening and closing her hand in front of her. ‘Prove their equality, if you like.’
‘Equality?’
‘They are human, Susan. They have the same capacities as we do. The only difference is they’re little and they can’t talk to us.’ She rocked back on her heels, angling her wrist upwards to check the time that glowed orange through her skin. ‘It’s a two-hour drive, we should probably get…’
‘Of course, of course,’ Hamish said, getting to his feet and putting his coat on. ‘We should get going.’
* * *
‘I’ve come to collect Isabel,’ he said into the intercom.
‘Oh…’ said a rasping voice. ‘Right, well… I’m afraid Isabel’s already gone.’
‘I think she came back again.’
‘—.’
‘Hello?’
‘Yes, I’m just checking. No… Nobody’s buzzed her in.’
‘Oh.’ Drew stuffed his hands in his pockets, leaned back to glance up at the windows, then pressed the button on the intercom again.
‘Yes?’
‘Are you sure she’s not there?’ Just as he’d finished the sentence, a young man in a cap walked up to the doors, changed his rucksack to the other shoulder and stuck his thumb in the thumb-reading box. The door clicked and he pushed it open.
‘Sorry, do you mind if I…’
‘Oh, um…’
‘I’ve come to collect Isabel; I’m in a bit of a hurry.’
The young man smiled on hearing Isabel’s name. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘You’re not her usual, are you?’
‘No,’ said Drew, as he followed the young man through the doors, his eyes darting over the room. It was still horribly dark in there, it always had been. He noted that the lino had changed colour since he’d come with Isabel to see Hector, then jumped up the staircase that hung like a uvula in the gaping, disinfectant-smelling mouth of the lobby.
At the top, a tiny chair sat on a metal runner: Isabel’s stair lift, he thought; she’d definitely come up here. Drew barged into the door that led to reception as he’d always done, back in the day. It didn’t budge. He tried the handle then knocked on the rectangular window that opened up one side of the door; metal wires framed invisible squares along the inside of its glass.
A white-coated blonde wrinkled her brow at him through her glasses before indicating that she wanted to see his badge.
He shrugged his shoulders; he didn’t have one.
Her lips made mumble shapes and she walked away.
The young man who’d let him in had reached the top of the stairs. ‘Sorry,’ said Drew. ‘She said something to me but I couldn’t hear her – would you mind?’
The man stopped and looked at him. ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and check with my grandfather if you want. Just wait a minute.’ He turned away, then back again. ‘Sorry, who should I say…’
‘Is Mark Hector your grandfather?’
The other nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Tell him it’s Drew.’
The young man nodded again, then disappeared through the door. Poor kid. Couldn’t blame him for doing his job properly. He traced the marbly lines in the new lino to Isabel’s little chairlift. She was probably in there right now demanding to see the clone. Silly girl. There was no way they’d let her talk to it… erm, her… surely? Good God, she’d be lucky if they let her go! He’d never bashed down a door before; would he be able to? Maybe with Watty’s help. Watty… He felt down his jacket and reached into an inside pocket to take out his phone. Just as his fingers closed around the phone, something knocked on the window. Drew looked up.
* * *
Now, in the car, Hamish had the weirdest feeling that he’d become polygamous. Every time he glanced next to him, he was sure that his armpits got a little wetter. And when Susan’s voice piped up from the back seat, the sweat would suddenly feel cold and his chest would deflate slightly. It was as if she were the first wife and all he wanted was for her to leave him alone with the second, new wife. Not necessarily for anything untoward but just so that he could be with her and, and be the Hamish who was respected; the Hamish who had saved the day by delivering the news that had changed everything. ‘I’m sorry,’ he’d managed to say, before Susan had come bounding down the stairs. ‘I shouldn’t have… you know.’
‘I think it was inevitable,’ she stammered, looking down at the sofa before lowering her bottom onto its edge.
‘“Entirely forbidden” is the phrase I would have used.’
‘That’s partly why it was inevitable.’
‘I should never have called you.’
She flicked her eyes everywhere but towards his. ‘I’d like to think you’re glad you did.’
He pushed his hands into his pockets and looked at the floor. ‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘I was going to call you before I leave.’
‘You’re planning to leave?’
Her eyes held his for a second. She took a breath to answer.
Then Susan arrived. And two worlds were suddenly in the same room.
The gnome inside Hamish’s head closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as Hamish thought about the comment Susan had made; the ‘hush-hush’ one. It was no good, he couldn’t think about that. ‘Emma, do you have
Moira’s number? We could call her to say we’re nearly there.’
‘No. I’ve never had Moira’s number.’
‘Didn’t you know her very well?’ Susan piped up again.
Ever since she’d set eyes on Emma, Susan had worn her ‘like me’ badge. Hamish imagined how she would stick her head out to the side as she asked a question like that; her eyes all wide as if what the other person had to say was the most interesting thing ever… It was his fault. It was certainly his fault… It was so rare that they were around other people, he’d forgotten the way she interacted with them. Except for Mrs Lucas, but she was different, she wasn’t a threat. Susan was much more natural around Mrs Lucas.
‘We weren’t allowed to know each other very well.’ Emma twisted right around again to answer Susan. ‘Only on a professional level. We were all chipped the day we started working for Billbridge & Minxus. They wanted to make a, kind of, network of colleagues. The irony being that it was to prevent us from networking.’
‘Gosh, really?’ gasped Susan, as if that were the most awful thing anyone had ever said.
Hamish put one elbow on the window sill and hooked his fingers over his lips. Stop it, he said to himself. Stop being so bloody analytical. Susan just wants a friend…
‘Yep, really. All verbal exchange was recorded and monitored to check that we weren’t being slanderous. Wow, it feels so weird to talk about this!’
Emma was really doing a cracking job. So patient with Susan… answering all her questions… Oh stop it, Hamish! Stop it!
Hamish put both hands on the steering wheel and peered ahead. ‘Um, Emma?’
‘Yep?’ Then: ‘Wow. They didn’t waste any time, did they?’
‘Who?’ Susan leaned forward and squinted through the window.
About thirty grey and white heads glowed in the headlights.
‘What are they doing in the middle of the road?’
‘This isn’t a road; it’s the driveway to the centre.’
Hamish wrinkled his head. ‘It can’t be, we’ve been on this road for miles. We’ve been all across a huge industrial estate and now through the woods.’
‘I’m telling you, you don’t turn off from this road, the company owns the road. The entrance to the centre is just behind on the other side of these woods.’
‘Impossible.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes!’
‘You have reached your destination. This information has been brought to you by WayToGo.’
Emma gave him an I-told-you-so look. Hamish smirked.
Susan noticed the I-told-you-so look. And the smirk. She also listened as they bickered about whether or not this was the right road. Not only did she notice but it struck her as rather familiar. Susan never got a smirk when she told him he was wrong. Susan got a sigh or a huff or… or nothing. She slit her eyelids so the couple before her became a scene in an old movie with a letter-box screen. They looked the part, Susan thought, turning her eyes away and looking out of the window. ‘It’s ten to nine,’ she said, getting out of the car and walking over to the crowd of glowing heads. She heard the other two doors slam and felt relieved that they hadn’t lingered in the car.
‘Meredith!’ she called.
‘Susan!’ Meredith trotted over. The others, hearing Susan’s name, started to gather round. ‘What’s going to happen? Do you think we’ll be able to get them out?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Susan. ‘But the most important thing is that you see us going in.’
‘Should we come too?’
‘I don’t know exactly what the lady has planned.’ Susan avoided her name, although she didn’t really know why. ‘All she said to me was to bring people, the more the better.’
‘Is it true that your littler can talk?’ said one, who Susan recognized to be the paisley lady who had offered Mrs Lucas her spare chair at the meeting.
‘That’s what I’ve been told,’ Susan smiled.
‘What are we doing here exactly? Do you think we’ll have to go in?’
‘Okay everyone.’ Emma’s voice sang out from just behind Susan and the glare from backs-of-silver-heads subsided as they turned their shadowy faces towards her. ‘I can tell you now that unfortunately you won’t be able to come inside. Your purpose is to observe, take photos, record us going into the building; whatever you have to do. When my colleague arrives, we’ll all walk together to the centre. Tonight is unplanned, yet, in a way, it’s been on the cards for a couple of weeks now. This is not a prison break, it is unlikely that any littlers will be getting out, but if you could all do your utmost to make sure that this cannot be erased from history then we’re more likely to beat the company and hopefully get your loved ones back.’
‘Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to say,’ said an approaching voice that Susan recognized. As she turned to see who it was, she caught Hamish staring at Emma with a weird look on his face… It was a bit like that time they’d had aperitifs at his boss’s house and had been shown a book collection that was much bigger than Hamish’s. Awe-struck, that was probably the term, she thought, as she squinted into the trees.
A woman with a red Puffa jacket strode out from behind a low branchful of leaves, glancing from side to side and then behind her. ‘Emma,’ she said, holding out her arms. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Moira!’ Emma took the hands and squeezed them. ‘We’re really gonna do this.’
Moira turned her mouth upside down. ‘I can’t come,’ she said. ‘I was just going to let her in and tell her where to go. My son is in the car with my sister.’ She tilted her head to where the car was. ‘We’re leaving as soon as she’s in.’
Emma nodded. ‘I don’t blame you at all.’ Then: ‘I can still get in, right?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Moira. ‘Do you still have your thumb?’
Emma laughed. ‘Yes! But maybe they updated something or…’
Moira shook her head. ‘Nope. Still held together with string and sticky tape. They don’t need anything but lawyers.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘What about your chip?’
‘Yeah.’ Emma dug around in her pocket. ‘I thought it might come in handy.’
‘Then we shouldn’t be talking, you know,’ she grinned. ‘I’ll have to hack mine out later.’
Emma made a yuk-face. ‘I did it. It’s not so bad…’
‘Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it.’ She turned to Susan. ‘You ready?’
‘I really don’t mind going instead…’ Hamish chimed in.
‘No,’ said Susan, locking Hamish in a rigid stare. ‘Jinx asked for me.’
Hamish rolled his eyes and was about to say something when Moira cut in.
‘That she did. She asked me specifically for her shiwan… Apparently that’s what she calls you.’ Moira waved one finger in the air as she turned to walk away. ‘Follow us to the gates, everyone!’ she called. ‘Take pictures, videos. Anything you can.’
The crowd lowed and rustled. Zips unzipped and old digital whirrs and bleeps flared flashes.
Hamish caught Susan by the elbow. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to go?’
Susan pulled her arm away. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, her eyes catching the glowing clock face on her wrist. ‘Maybe we should record ourselves going in?’
‘Good idea,’ replied Emma, dabbing at her wrist until it beamed fluorescent green.
The group walked together to the gates where the LOG members were told to stay and wait. Only Moira, Emma and Susan climbed over and crossed the forecourt.
‘Okay,’ said Moira as they got to the glass front of the building. ‘Susan, if for some reason Emma can’t go through, do you see that door at the back of reception?’
Susan looked through the glass entry doors into the dim reception area. ‘Just about, yes.’
‘The button you need to press is the brown one on the right of the lift. That will stop at every floor to the basement. The doors will
open once onto an empty corridor. The second time they open you’ll be at a room where the littlers go when they first arrive, and the third one is the silent room where Jinx is.’
‘Right. Okay,’ Susan said through a barely opened mouth, sure that if it opened any wider her heart would come tumbling out of it.
‘Is the security bot still there?’ asked Emma.
Moira nodded. ‘Yep. And they’ve got another one.’
‘Shit. There are two?’
‘They shouldn’t have a problem with you because you’ve got your chip. They might not go a bundle on Susan.’ Moira shrugged. ‘But anyway, they’re still in the room out the back. You should have just enough time to go down, get Jinx and come up again.’
‘And what if we don’t?’ said Susan.
Moira pressed her lips together while she considered this. ‘Just be quick, okay?’
‘Fine,’ Susan nodded.
* * *
‘She’s not here.’ Mark Hector opened the door and wiped his forehead at Drew.
Drew squinted for a moment. Gosh he’d aged. The stretched skin on his face pulled his eyelids taut, revealing heavily mapped eye-whites. And he had a stick. ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said, turning sideways and barging through the gap he had made in the door.
‘Oh no you don’t!’ Mark Hector put his hand out to grab Drew’s sleeve; Drew curled out of the way and strode through the corridor. The layout hadn’t been altered in the slightest; he knew these rooms as if he’d built them. ‘Isabel!’ he shouted through a doorway before continuing along the corridor, opening doors, making piles of paper scatter and surprising people who hobbled along the corridor in white coats, grey hair tussocking out from their hair nets. Some faces he sort of recognized, some were completely unknown, and apart from the young man who’d let him in, everyone seemed so old. ‘Isabel!’ he shouted from each doorway. ‘Isabel!’
‘She’s not here,’ said Hector.
‘Isabel!’ cried Drew, as he swung open a door. A balding lab technician dropped and caught whatever he was holding. ‘She must be here somewhere.’
‘No, Drew… Not in there!’
Drew glanced back at Mark Hector before opening the door. Nothing. An empty room. That was strange; why hadn’t he wanted him to come in here? Then he remembered, there was another room that led from this one. He crossed the empty space and opened a second door in the far right-hand corner. ‘Isab—’ he started. There she was. At eye-level, right in front of him, in some sort of glass box. She turned as she felt the light from the door shine on her naked back and squinted up at Drew with lazy eyes. They must have given her something… Drew reached behind him to turn the light on as Hector’s stick struck its way across the previous room.