‘Hullo, Wonky,’ he said.
‘Can we please drop the whole Wonky thing?’ I asked. ‘It’s not really doing much for me.’
‘Jim Treacle would kill for a nickname,’ said Fodder.
‘He’s been dropping hints we could call him “Sticky” for three seasons,’ said Jonesy, ‘but we won’t give him the honour.’
‘What have I done that honours me with a nickname?’
‘You went back to get Mrs Tiffen.’
‘True – but Logan died because of it.’
‘It was the unforeseen outcome of courageous motivation and adherence to duty,’ said Fodder in a quiet voice. ‘Despite everything that happened afterwards, you have grit. You concur, Jonesy?’
‘I do,’ said Jonesy.
‘Then accept the honour, Wonky. Cherish the accolade, never complain again.’
And he pulled me into a Winter embrace. He smelled of woodsmoke, musty clothes and spent thermalites, and held me for quite a long time, and far harder than was comfortable, and kissed me softly on the ear, twice.
‘So, Wonky,’ he said once he’d let me go, ‘is that coffee any good?’
‘It’s the worst I’ve ever tasted.’
‘Excellent – after twelve years of wintering I can’t drink anything else. Pour me one, would you?’
So I did while he stared at me with his dark empty eyes.
‘What’s that worthless bag of shit’s nickname again?’ came Toccata’s voice from the other side of the office.
‘Wonky,’ said Fodder and Jonesy in unison.
‘Thanks for that,’ I said in a quiet voice.
‘Wonky?’ shouted Toccata. ‘Out the front in five.’
‘What do you think she wants?’ I asked, jumping to my feet.
‘Don’t know,’ said Fodder. ‘Perhaps she wants to have you for lunch.’
‘Very funny.’
* * *
* * *
‘You can drive,’ said Toccata, climbing into the passenger seat of Aurora’s four-wheel drive, now without the nightwalkers tied to the back.
‘Isn’t this Aurora’s transport?’ I asked, starting the vehicle anyway.
‘Like I give a shit,’ said Toccata. ‘We’re going up to HiberTech to see Aurora.’
‘Okay,’ I said, wondering how that was possible. ‘For what reason?’
‘Pantry resupply mainly, but also to find out why you were marooned. I want to see how they react to you, too. Keep your eyes and ears open and report back everything you hear. Especially any details about Project Lazarus. Let’s see how good that memory of yours actually is.’
I reversed out of the parking lot and drove down into the town square, past Howell Harris and the lorry still stuck fast on the bridge. Toccata stared at me the whole time, then reached out a hand and tweaked my bony forearm.
‘You’re very skinny,’ she said. ‘Did you do any dreaming on your four-week sojourn to the dark side?’
‘No, ma’am.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘The one thing I loathe more than winsomniacs is dreamers. Feet on the ground, head out of the clouds. Agree?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘I don’t like subordinates always agreeing,’ she said. ‘Sycophants have no place in my department. You’re to speak your mind when the opportunity calls for it.’
‘How will I know when that is?’
‘I shall inform you. Park over there.’
We’d arrived at the HiberTech facility, which looked a little cheerier in the daylight, but not by much.
We were buzzed in as before and Josh was still at the receptionist desk, only with four more ‘Employee of the Week’ pictures behind him. The golf-cart driver, Dave, I noted, had been replaced by another rewired nightwalker, this time a woman. Her hair had been given the buzzcut usually associated with any nightwalker who had been redeployed, and she blinked occasionally while she stared at the floor, but was otherwise utterly vacant.
Josh nodded a nervous greeting to us both and Toccata said she wanted to see Aurora.
‘What, now?’
‘Yes, now.’
‘I don’t think she’s in.’
‘Why don’t you check?’
‘Okay.’
Toccata went and sat on one of the benches while Josh picked up the phone.
‘Dave the driver deployed elsewhere?’ I said to Josh.
‘Simpler duties,’ he replied, ‘currently employed as a thermostat in F-Block. Recognise his replacement?’
It was only when Josh mentioned it I realised it was Mrs Tiffen. I took a step forward to greet her, but then stopped myself. She wouldn’t know who I was, and from the look of her, she had lost the ability to play the bouzouki, too. I think I preferred her when she could, no matter how annoying that might have been. I turned back to Josh, who was looking at me with a concerned expression on his face.
‘I don’t like it here,’ he said in a low voice. ‘What’s happening, what’s going to happen. With Project Lazarus, I mean.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Walls have ears,’ he said nervously. ‘But look, just supposing I knew someone who wanted to get in touch with RealSleep, would you be able to make contact?’
‘No,’ I said, wondering if this request was genuine, or part of a HiberTech plot to check me out, ‘and I’m not sure you should be asking.’
‘Fair enough,’ he said, ‘but here’s something: if you can get out of Sector Twelve in any way, shape or form, then do it.’
‘That’s not particularly original advice.’
‘No,’ said Josh with a sigh, ‘and I wish I’d heeded it when I first heard it.’
He pointed a pencil at Toccata.
‘You do know they’re the same person?’
‘I found out the hard way.’
‘Has she threatened to pull out your tongue if you step out of line?’
‘Yes, and not in the painless way.’
‘As far as we know it’s a bluff,’ said Josh, ‘but it’s hard to say. Does that make you feel any better?’
‘Not much.’
He made the call, then handed us our visitor badges and walked around to instruct one of the redeployed on the golf carts. Not Mrs Tiffen, though, the one with the badge denoting him as ‘Chas’. Josh helped us on board, showed the redeployed the map, and we were off, just not quite as dangerously as before.
‘The other redeployed golf-cart driver was Mrs Tiffen,’ I said to Toccata, ‘the woman I brought over here four weeks ago.’
‘That’s quick work,’ she replied. ‘Do you know how much money they make from the redeployed?’
‘No.’
‘Lots,’ she said, not sounding as if she knew either, ‘but they’ll make a shitload more if Vacants can be made skilled, although the unions won’t be happy. Peppermint?’ She held out a small white bag. ‘Take two. Shit, take the whole bag.’
I thought of what Jonesy had told me, about how Toccata fed nightwalkers peppermint to make them more palatable.
‘No, thanks.’
‘Go on,’ she said, ‘you look like you need feeding up.’
‘Maybe later,’ I said, but took the bag anyway.
We were driven down several corridors, took a left turn and stopped outside two large double doors where Mr Hooke was waiting for us.
‘I-will-wait-for-you-here,’ said the golf-cart driver, and I looked at him, intending to say thank you, and found myself staring. His badge still described him as Chas, but he was, in fact, Charles, whose likeness decorated my dream – albeit retrospectively, agreed – and was also on the missing persons flier I had in my back pocket. He had a beard and cropped hair, but it was the same person. If he’d vanished in Sector Twelve, he hadn’t gone very far, nor for that long.
‘Well, well,’
said Toccata as Mr Hooke approached us, ‘the return of the living dead. Eaten any babies today?’
‘Unfunny as usual,’ said Hooke in an even tone, ignoring me entirely. ‘Would you like to come in?’
He opened the door to their offices and we entered a wood-panelled room about the size of a gymnasium. The staff had their heads down and were either working or speaking on the telephone in low voices. One, near the back, was typing on a telex machine.
‘I’d like to see Aurora,’ said Toccata as we walked towards the side offices.
‘That’s not possible,’ said Hooke.
‘Every single time she does this,’ said Toccata in an exasperated tone. ‘She can’t hide from me for ever.’
Actually, I thought, yes, she probably could.
‘Whilst Aurora is otherwise engaged,’ said Hooke, who looked as though he had been through this many, many times, ‘I assume all her duties, and the position of Head of Security. So how can I help you?’
Toccata pointed at me.
‘I want to know why Aurora took over responsibility for a marooned Deputy Consul, and having done so, left them to almost sleep themselves out over the past four weeks.’
Mr Hooke looked at me, then back at Toccata.
‘I have no idea,’ he said, staring at her without expression.
‘Make a guess.’
He shrugged.
‘I don’t make guesses.’
‘Give it a whirl. For me. Just this once.’
‘Perhaps,’ began Hooke, ‘she felt she was in some way to blame for Worthing’s marooning. Perhaps she was just caring for someone looking lost in the Winter. Perhaps she was just being kind.’
‘Aurora has no understanding of the word. She’s motivated only by what HiberTech ask of her.’
‘We could argue over this all day, ma’am,’ said Hooke, sounding like they probably did, quite a lot, ‘but it seems to me a simple mistake. Deputy Worthing overslept. It happens. Why don’t you just take it up with Aurora?’
‘I try, but she’s always avoiding me.’
‘She says the same about you. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?’
‘Pantry,’ she said. ‘You’ve got shitloads of it and I want some to feed to the sleep-shy.’
‘If it were up to me, I’d drown them all and then compost their remains and use it to nourish the Winter beet,’ said Hooke, ‘but we live, apparently, in more enlightened times. Why don’t you come into the office?’
He gestured us to a side office which I noted had Aurora’s name painted on the door. He invited Toccata inside, but pointed at a seat outside the office for me.
I sat down, then heard Toccata’s voice rise in volume as she started to question why HiberTech couldn’t spare any food for the rest of the Sector, and Agent Hooke’s voice coldly explaining that it wasn’t up to private companies to deal with the shortcomings of government.
‘Does this happen a lot?’ I asked a youngish-looking worker sitting quite near me. He looked up abruptly, as though he had hoped I wasn’t going to say anything.
‘All the time. It’s like a recurring gag in a sitcom, only it’s not funny.’
‘Sitcom,’ I said, ‘yes. Are there any toilets close by? I’ve been on the coffee since I woke up.’
He directed me to the second on the left down the corridor, and I thanked him and walked out of the room. I didn’t want the loo; I wanted a closer look at our driver, who was still staring ahead blankly. I was right; it was Charles Webster. The picture on the missing person’s flyer matched: he had a mole beneath his right eye.
‘Hello, Charles,’ I said. There was no reaction. I reminded myself that the connection between him and Birgitta was weak. All I had was Birgitta’s admission – before she nightwalked – that her husband vanished. That was it. No name, no idea where he vanished to or even when. I had no confirmation they were the same person, aside from the dream, which was no confirmation at all.
‘Birgitta says “hi”,’ I said, but there was no reaction. I tried again: ‘There will always be the—’
‘—Gower,’ said Webster, or, at least, something that I thought sounded like ‘Gower’. On reflection, it might have just been a mumble.
I heard voices from down the corridor and looked up as The Notable Goodnight attended by a gaggle of assistants walked around the corner, Lucy amongst them. I briefly heard something about deep memory reacquisition before they saw me and all stopped talking.
‘Well,’ said The Notable Goodnight, staring at me with an imperious eye, ‘Charlie Worthing. What are you doing here?’
‘Consul business, ma’am.’
‘Indeed?’
‘Yes; to do with extra food for the winsomniacs. We have fifty-four of them.’
‘Have you tried starvation? Clears them out in a jiffy, I’m told.’
Lucy whispered something in her ear.
‘I’ve been instructed to tell you that was a joke. Dark, but a joke. Funny, yes?’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘very.’
She grunted and they all moved on except for Lucy.
‘Good to see you, Charlie,’ she said as we tapped fists. ‘Someone said you overslept. Is that true?’
I rolled up my sleeve and showed her my forearm, which more closely resembled a stick draped with furry skin.
‘Wow,’ she said, ‘you lost all that in only four weeks?’
‘Dreams,’ I said, ‘and they’re kind of still with me.’
I told her about the retrospective nature of my dreams and she nodded knowingly.
‘Narcosis can do weird things to the mind,’ she said. ‘How are you getting along with the Consuls?’
‘Sort of okay.’
‘I shouldn’t really tell you this, but be extremely wary of Toccata. She’s allowing her hatred of Aurora to cloud her judgement and invents all manner of conspiracies. HiberTech has been wanting to get rid of her for years, but it’s kind of complicated when Aurora is so valuable. Toccata can be volatile, and we don’t want any wrinkles when we roll out Project Lazarus. I can’t say much, but there’s talk of Morphenox-B being available to everyone.’
‘That’s good,’ I said.
‘It’s very exciting. Be careful, Charlie. You know you can call me if you need anything. I’ll always be a friend first and an employee of HiberTech second.’
And she gave me a hug, waved goodbye and hurried off down the corridor just as the door to the HiberTech offices opened and Toccata walked out.
‘Wanker,’ said Toccata, joining me in the golf cart. ‘I’d poison him quite happily and dance on his grave given half a chance. A compliant toady, acquiescing to Aurora at every level.’
She told Charles to return us to reception, which he did, without word, complaint or delay.
‘Have a nice Winter,’ said Josh as he saw us off. ‘May the Spring embrace you.’
‘And embrace you, too.’
* * *
* * *
‘That was interesting,’ said Toccata once we had retrieved our weapons and were walking back to the command car outside.
‘What was?’
‘That they all seemed quite uninterested.’
‘Uninterested in what?’
‘In you. HiberTech regard every unusual face as someone who is a potential RealSleep member, ne’er-do-well or loser. They paid you no heed and even allowed you to wander off – where did you go?’
‘The loo.’
‘Right – which makes me suspicious that they’ve been told to leave you alone. Why is this?’
‘I’m not sure being ignored is grounds for suspicion,’ I said.
‘You don’t know them like I do. Speak to anyone about Project Lazarus?’
I told her I knew someone there – an old friend from the Pool, and she had said that it would be a gam
e changer.
‘In what way?’
‘Universal availability of Morphenox-B, apparently. That’s good, right?’
‘So everyone says,’ she said, ‘and it will triple the number of nightwalkers to redeploy. Greater survivability, sure, but lots of cheap labour. I’ve always been suspicious of game changers,’ she added. ‘Sometimes the game doesn’t need changing – or no one has a clear idea of which game will be changed, and for what and how much.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘No,’ she said, ‘neither do I.’
I thought for a moment, then said: ‘Something odd happened.’
‘What?’
‘The Notable Goodnight wandered past.’
‘And?’
‘She knew my name. She met me once, four weeks ago. Is she good with names?’
‘She barely knows mine,’ said Toccata, ‘why would she remember you? Make an impression?’
‘Not in the least.’
‘As I said,’ murmured Toccata, ‘something about you has interested HiberTech. It’ll be an opportunistic exploitation, or my name’s not Toccata.’
We climbed into the command car and drove slowly back down towards the town. I was in Sector Twelve only because of Aurora. First by letting the train go, then finding me an apartment on the ninth floor of the Siddons, then not checking back or telling anyone I was there. The meeting in the Siddons basement that morning might have been contrived, too, in order for her to come over all chummy and helpful.
‘Permission to speak, ma’am?’
‘Go on.’
‘Why do you think HiberTech are interested in me?’
She stared at me with her one good eye for several seconds.
‘I have no idea, Wonky. But believe me, it won’t be anything trivial.’
Fodder
‘ . . . Porters never went out during the Winter, mostly out of duty to their charges. Even in a dire emergency – fire, Villain or nightwalker incursion, HotPot overheat, starvation – no porter would abandon the building if there was a single sleeper left inside. A porter went down with their building . . . ’
Early Riser Page 24
