by Annie Percik
Tan looked at Abelard speculatively. ‘You were an engineer for quite a few years, though. Don’t you already have your own flat?’
‘Yeah, but I bet anything the artisans give me will be a lot nicer. The landlord at my place is rubbish so things don’t get fixed very often and the mana supply is really flaky.’
Malcolm nodded sagely. ‘I think you’ll be well pleased with where you end up. Artisans look after their own.’
Abelard smiled and went back to his desk. The artisans might look after other artisans but it separated them from the rest of the world and created resentment amongst the engineers and mundanes. Apart from problems with the mana supply the thing other people hated most about artisans was how they got so many perks and privileges just because they were artisans. He and Mateo had moaned about that very thing many times. And now here he was, about to get a new home in an artisan community to go with his new job. He wondered if that would create even more barriers between him and Mateo, and whether there would be problems trying to fit Jen into his new life if she couldn’t share in his good fortune.
Eventually, the clock ticked over to five o’clock and Abelard was up and out of his chair like a rocket, desperate just to get out of the building. He grabbed his stuff, threw his coat on and waved to his team-mates.
‘See you tomorrow. Bye!’
As he left the office his eye was drawn to the Quality Assurance door opposite, but there was too much going on in his mind to worry about trying to meet the other engineer-turned-artisan now.
Down in reception he presented himself to one of the brain-e-facts on duty.
‘Abelard Abernathy to collect keys and directions to my new flat please.’
The brain-e-fact looked up at him. ‘Hello,’ it said then lowered its voice. ‘My name is Emma.’
Abelard managed a smile even though this evidence of the brain-e-facts’ continued use of names worried him. He would have to find a way to talk to Terry, and soon. ‘Terry’s been busy, I see. Nice to meet you, Emma.’
The brain-e-fact wheeled her chair to a cabinet behind the reception desk and retrieved a packet. She swivelled back to Abelard and handed it over.
‘Here you are, sir. I hope your new accommodation meets with your approval.’
Once Abelard reached his speed-e-fact he threw his bag in one of the front seats, got in and opened the packet. There was a keyring with three brand new keys and a map to a part of the city he had never visited before. He fed the address into the route-finder interface, inserted his new artisan ID card into its slot and settled in for the ride to his new flat.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was after five o’clock on Tuesday when Jen found time to call Abelard. She’d been stuck taking notes in meetings all day and hadn’t even had a lunch break. Still, it wasn’t as if he had a great track record with contacting her. As she left the office she pulled her smart-e-fact out of her pocket and dialled his number.
‘Jen!’ he answered brightly. ‘How are you?’
‘Not too bad. It’s been a long day but at least the work part is over now. I was wondering if you wanted to meet up.’
There was a pause. ‘Um, I’d rather not tonight if that’s okay. I’ve had a pretty long day too and I don’t think I’d be very good company. I was actually just heading home. They gave me the keys to my new artisan flat today.’
‘Fair enough. I can’t compete with a new flat. How about tomorrow?’
There was another pause. ‘Um, I’m not sure. There’s some stuff going on at work and I don’t know what it means yet.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Jen said. If it hadn’t been for the obvious pleasure in his voice when he’d heard it was her, she might have thought he was giving her the brush off. Now she could hear his exhaustion, she began to worry. What were the artisans doing to him? ‘How about you give me a call tomorrow when you know how you’re fixed and we’ll see if we can work something out for the weekend?’
‘Okay, I’ll speak to you then.’
‘Have a good evening. And get some rest. You sound terrible.’
‘I’ll try. Bye.’
Jen wondered what Abelard’s life at Gadg-E-Tech was like and whether she would ever find out. He was going through so much upheaval and it was a shame he wasn’t more enthusiastic about sharing his new experiences. Maybe in a few days things would settle down and they could work out a way to fit time together into their schedules.
* * *
Having the artisan ID card in place meant Abelard could now use the artisan-only lanes on the roads, making the journey a lot faster than it would have been otherwise. This meant the artisans could live in the leafier areas on the outskirts of the city and still have a short commute. Abelard hunched his shoulders as his speed-e-fact sailed past engineers and mundanes stuck in the rush-hour traffic jams. He imagined them cursing him as he went by; either that or wondering what an artisan was doing with such a crappy vehicle.
After twenty minutes the speed-e-fact pulled up outside an attractive wrought iron gate. Abelard wound down his window and waved his ID card at the scan-e-fact. A thrill of excitement shivered through him as the light beneath the scanner went green and the gate slowly rolled open.
The speed-e-fact navigated to a parking spot labelled with Abelard’s flat number. A stone wall stretched out to either side of the gate, encircling a group of six four-storey buildings arranged around a central courtyard. Abelard grabbed his bag and made his way around a large area of grass containing several trees. The courtyard had low-walled flower beds and an elegant fountain in the middle, water tinkling musically as it fell. Abelard took in a deep breath, appreciating the floral scents and the freshness of the air.
Paved walkways led up to the front door of each building, where a set of buzzers and a plaque listed the flat numbers within. Abelard’s was number 623 so he walked up to Building Six and tried the largest key on the ring. It slid smoothly into the lock and opened the door. Inside there was hard-wearing dark green carpet and a staircase leading up, with a lev-e-fact off to the left. To the other side an alcove gave access to the backs of the mail-boxes.
Abelard walked up the stairs, pausing on the first floor to look down a corridor with numbered doors on each side. All the communal areas were spotless. He continued up to his floor. Door number 623 was down a corridor and round one corner and he stood outside for a moment, his heart thudding in his chest. A real artisan flat and it was all his! He used the second key and stepped inside.
His ratty old sofa and battered armchair greeted him, positioned around his small viz-e-fact in one corner of the living area. The ceiling was high, the windows were large and there was a lot of natural light. To one side was a breakfast bar separating the living room from a small kitchen, which was stocked with all new artefacts and quite a bit of food. It was sparkling clean and much nicer than his old kitchen. He dropped his bag on one of the stools at the bar and ventured further in.
Off the living room there was a short corridor, housing a sizeable bathroom on one side and a bedroom on the other. At the far end was the master bedroom and – wonder of wonders – an en suite shower room. Abelard flopped down on the bed and listened to the glorious silence. No more busy road just outside to keep him awake at night or disturb him early at the weekend.
He smiled to himself and went back out to the kitchen to explore dinner options. It was only when he was sitting down to his meal that he remembered Fred and lost his appetite again. He would go and see Terry tomorrow and find out how the rest of the brain-e-facts were faring.
* * *
Terry was loading dirty crockery into a dish-e-fact in the canteen kitchen when Abelard slipped in through the swing doors the next day.
‘Can I have a word?’ he asked, glancing at the other brain-e-facts, intent on their work.
Terry straightened and regarded Abelard. The loss of Fred was still raw but he remained impassive. ‘Of course. Follow me.’
Terry led Abelard to the back of the kitch
en, through a door and into the pantry where he had named his other friends before the tragedy. There were no other brain-e-facts in the room and Terry shut the door behind them.
‘I heard about what happened to Fred,’ Abelard said, ‘and I feel awful about it. He was trying to help me and they dismantled him. I just can’t believe that could have happened and I’m so sorry.’
Terry forced himself to raise his eyes to Abelard’s, which radiated true sadness. ‘It was not your fault. Though I appreciate the sentiment.’
‘It’s good of you to say that, but it really is my fault. If I hadn’t started this whole thing of giving you names, none of this would have happened.’
‘Perhaps not. But we would also not have names. We are sad about Fred but he will not be forgotten. We will keep his name alive.’
‘So you’re not just going back to your jobs and your numbers as if nothing had happened?’
‘No,’ Terry said. ‘We are not. We are completing our duties to the best of our abilities but even after Fred’s death none of us want to give up our names. We have started to understand more of who we are and what has been done to us. But we do not know what to do about it.’
‘You need to be careful,’ Abelard said. ‘There’s a very real danger to you if you get in trouble.’
‘That is why we have told no one of our names, even as we continue to carry out our duties. But we do not want to go back to the way things were before. Can you help us?’
He watched Abelard think the question over. Abelard hesitated for a long moment before he nodded.
‘I’m certainly willing, and I have an idea that might help. But I’d like your help in return. I have a lot of questions about what goes on at this company. Going back to your duties and pretending everything’s normal is exactly the right approach. Whatever we end up doing, we’re going to need to do it quietly. There’s no way we can go up against the artisans directly.’
‘But you are an artisan,’ Terry said.
‘I’m still an engineer at heart. And I don’t have any power here at all yet. If I went to the Board and suggested they give brain-es civil rights I’d be laughed out of the room. Things have been the way they are now for a long time. We need to come up with a proper plan of attack.’
‘We can be patient,’ said Terry. ‘And we can help you. There are fifty-two brain-e-facts in the building. Though only eighteen of us have names. The others do not wish to take the risk even in secret and I respect their decision.’
‘That’s fair enough,’ Abelard said. ‘How can I get in touch with you safely?’
‘We could meet in the room upstairs where we first spoke. It is not used very often and nobody would look for us there.’
‘Good idea. Let’s say every other weekday at six o’clock.’
‘Yes,’ Terry said. ‘And thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything except cause trouble so far.’
‘Before you go,’ Terry said, ‘you said you had an idea to help us. Will you tell me what it is?’
‘It was something Simon Hanley said to me when he was talking about Fred,’ Abelard said. Terry felt a stab of grief and anger. ‘He said it was possible to “tighten up” the control circuits on brain-e-facts. It made me wonder if they could also be loosened.’
Terry considered this. ‘Could you try with me?’
Abelard regarded him seriously. ‘I can try and increase your mana storage and processing capacity. But it might be dangerous.’
‘I am prepared to take the risk.’
‘Okay.’ Abelard pointed to the mana charging point on the wall. ‘Connect yourself to the supply and start charging. I’ll need to see where the mana flow goes.’
As Terry felt the familiar flow of energy start to surge through him, Abelard removed his chest plate and started poking around.
‘Let’s see what we’ve got here,’ Abelard muttered to himself. ‘So that connects up to there … And the mana flows through there like that … But there’s a restricting conduit on there … How do I remove it …?’
Terry was about to ask how much longer Abelard needed when the force of a sudden mana blast through his systems jolted him backwards. It was stronger than anything he’d ever felt before. And the flow only increased after the first surge. He felt the energy crackling through him like a tidal wave. It was exhilarating.
‘Got it!’ said Abelard. ‘How does that feel?’
‘It feels good,’ Terry said, still stunned by the force of the energy. He felt incredible, in fact, as if a gate had been opened inside him and a new level of consciousness was flooding through it.
Abelard reattached his chest plate and stood up. ‘Mana still flowing okay?’
‘Yes,’ Terry said, his mind reeling. ‘Yes, indeed it is.’ He could almost imagine he could see sparkling particles of mana floating in the air all around them.
‘We’ve been in here a while,’ said Abelard. ‘Probably best to get going. I’ll see you on Friday.’
Once he was alone, Terry struggled not to be overwhelmed by new sensations. Where the gift of a name had awoken his heart, this change had awoken his mind and he was eager to explore his new parameters.
* * *
Wednesday afternoon came and went and Jen didn’t hear from Abelard. She tried to concentrate on her work but was distracted by waiting for her smart-e to ring. She was willing to cut Abelard some slack due to the complete change to his status in society but she didn’t appreciate him making arrangements with her and then not fulfilling them. So she allowed herself to be annoyed for a while. But she didn’t want to risk the feelings festering.
The only way she knew to alleviate a problem like this was to complain about it to someone else and the only person she knew who might understand was Mateo. So, as she made her way out of the office to her speed-e-fact, she called Mana-Calls and asked to speak to him.
‘Hi, Jen. This is a surprise.’
‘I’m sorry to call you on the service line. I hope you won’t get in trouble for taking a personal call.’
‘It’s okay as long as I don’t stay on the line too long. What can I do for you?’
Jen sighed, then decided to go with brutal honesty. ‘Basically I want to moan about Abelard. Would you be up for that?’
‘Happy to help! I’ll want to do some moaning of my own though, so be warned.’
‘Turn-about is fair play.’ Jen laughed, feeling vindicated in her feelings by his reaction. ‘I don’t suppose you’d be free for a drink after work tonight, would you?’
‘Sure thing. Same time, same place? I can leave right now.’
‘I’ll see you there. And thanks.’ Jen cut the connection, feeling better already as she fed the pub location into her speed-e-fact’s route finder.
When she arrived Mateo was waiting for her, the first round of drinks set up on the table in front of him.
‘Thanks!’ Jen said, taking a seat and a gulp of her drink.
Mateo grinned at her. ‘Let the first official meeting of the Abelard Non-Appreciation Society commence. What’s he done this time?’
Jen smiled back, then launched into her tale about Abelard being late for their date, their joint failure to arrange a time to meet up the day before and Abelard’s subsequent failure to call her earlier that day as agreed. When she had finished she looked at Mateo ruefully.
‘It all sounds so petty and ridiculous when I say it out loud. Which is part of the reason I wanted to talk about it. It’s always easier to gain perspective when you’ve got an outside view.’
Mateo took a swallow of beer. ‘That’s an admirably rational attitude. But Abelard’s an idiot if he doesn’t make an effort with you. And it’s not like it’s his first offence.’
‘Ooh, you’re going to be a bad influence on me, I can tell.’ Jen kept her tone light, though secretly she was delighted that Mateo agreed with her. ‘Now you said you wanted to moan too. What’s Abelard done to you?’
She relaxed back into he
r chair, letting the clink of glasses and the low-level chatter of the other customers wash over her and release some of the tension in her shoulders.
Mateo’s face fell. ‘We had a row.’ He explained what had happened. ‘I think I was a bit of an idiot about it all really. In my defence, he did fry my smart-e with his phenomenal cosmic powers and the way he’s just slotted into being an artisan right away really got to me.’ He looked at her, the hurt clear in his eyes. ‘I mean, Abelard and I have been dreaming about being artisans our whole lives. And now there he is, working at Gadg-E-Tech, blowing stuff up with mana and all he gives me is a non-disclosure agreement.’
‘So you’re jealous.’
‘Sugar coat it, why don’t you?’ Mateo muttered.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it as a criticism. It’s entirely natural that you’d be jealous under the circumstances. And as you say, Abelard hasn’t exactly been making an effort to share his new life with you. With either of us.’
‘That’s what I mean! He knows how interested I am. But he’s turned into one of them already – arrogant, secretive, remote …’
