by Eliza Green
Janine swept her hand around the room. ‘And leave all this behind? You’ll never get a job as good as this on Exilon 5. You’ll probably have to work as a cleaner for crap pay.’
‘Janine, what the hell crawled up your butt today?’ said Chris.
‘Nothing. I’m just enquiring about Ms O’Halloran’s eagerness to leave Earth, that’s all. She gets so excited every time the lottery sniffs near Haymarket.’
Laura had her fill of Janine and her petty sniping. Beneath all the bravado, Janine was insecure and lacked personal ambition.
Laura rubbed her tired eyes and began the short walk back to her desk.
‘Is that it?’ said Chris. ‘No more bending over to show us your perfect ass?’
‘Bite me.’
‘Don’t mind if I do.’
‘Would you two stop with the sick flirting already and let me tell you what I’ve heard,’ said Janine. Heads lifted up from workstations. Janine was a sure thing for the gossip and she flirted with every male in the building to get it. Her powers of persuasion had proven to be useful. She usually heard news before the other floors.
Janine twirled a few strands of her long brown hair between her fingers while she waited for everyone’s attention.
‘There’s a massive meeting happening in Gilchrist’s office today. All the security heads will be there. Tom from Level One heard it from Julie, who knows someone who works near Suzanne Brett’s office.’ Brett was the overseer for Level Five and directly under Gilchrist’s command.
A low whisper carried around the room. ‘Yeah, I saw Daphne Gilchrist in the lobby this morning, flanked by her minions.’
‘That woman puts the frighteners up me,’ said Chris.
‘All women scare you,’ said Laura. ‘Any of those who have a bit of power, that is.’
‘Not all women, just the ball breakers. She has the power to castrate men with her stare.’
‘Exaggerate much?’ said Janine.
‘I speak the truth,’ said Chris. ‘Did you know her voice gets so loud during meetings it shatters unbreakable glass?’
‘You are so full of shit.’
The room exploded into peals of laughter.
Another worker cut in. ‘Does anyone know why they’re meeting? I can’t remember the last time all security heads were in one room.’
‘Since when are we ever told about anything in this place?’ said another. ‘I barely know what the replicated specials are in the cafeteria, let alone important business that might actually concern us.’
While everyone guessed what the meeting was about, Laura stayed silent. She didn’t remember there ever being a security meeting during her three years at ESC.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was coming down the line.
19
Daphne Gilchrist paced at the top of the large meeting room adjoining her ESC office on Level Seven. A huge oval-shaped walnut table sat on a circular cream-and-black rug. Twelve hand-carved oak chairs hugged the table’s edge. A painting with a concentric pattern of rings in black and charcoal grey hung on one wall, representing the force fields that protected levels five through to nine.
She hated this room. The concentric circle design reminded her of being trapped, a feeling she’d struggled with for the last few months. Things were bad on Earth, but little was being done to rectify it. Her future hung in the balance and she was certain Charles Deighton would have the last say.
Daphne blinked and refocused on the nine representatives for the ITF security branches ranging from London to Bangladesh sat around the table. They each had power in their respective roles, but here Daphne was in charge. Suzanne Brett, overseer for Level Five, sat to her right, someone she could trust to toe the line when needed. Right now, she needed people on her side. Her assistant Tim sat to her left, back from his meeting in the HJA station.
She motioned for him to leave. He did so reluctantly.
‘Everyone, what is the plan?’ she asked as soon as the door closed. Daphne checked her grey trouser suit for lint.
The reps stayed silent. She had called them in early to coincide with the alien’s planned meeting. They’d been sitting in the room for an hour now.
She locked eyes with Simon Shaw, the rep for the London ITF office, where Bill Taggart was stationed. He flicked his eyes away from her penetrating stare. Daphne knew she wasn’t an easy person to deal with, but one thing she despised most was displays of weakness.
Her father had been a strong, domineering character, ruling her weak-willed mother with an iron fist. Daphne had learned how to use the same tactics in the boardroom. All her mother had taught her was that she would never become a doormat.
She sat down at the head of the table and tapped her nail on its lacquered surface.
‘It appears from Bill Taggart’s preliminary report that we face a serious problem with these Indigenes. They have the advantage and Deighton isn’t happy. What I need are solutions. Raise your hand if you want to speak.’
She liked formality and structure. Structure allowed her to predict what was coming.
Simon Shaw, head of the London ITF office, raised his hand.
He cleared his throat. ‘Bill Taggart is the best investigator to come out of my office. His performance on other missions has been exemplary and I am confide—’
‘I know exactly where he came from, Shaw,’ said Daphne. ‘I placed him there myself, if you recall. I don’t need you to recite his credentials. If that’s all you have to say—’
‘No! I mean, we should wait to hear Taggart out, get his thoughts on it. Knowing him, he’ll have come up with another solution to track down the Indigenes.’
She locked her eyes on Shaw’s thin face and grey eyes. He wasn’t much older than Taggart. He’d be more likeable if he wasn’t so weak willed. Deighton ate types like him for breakfast.
‘We can’t lose the progress made so far. It’s our job to determine the next steps in this investigation, not him. What happened after the meeting was no mistake. Officer Page said Bill Taggart followed the alien to the underground station ten minutes ago and lost it. He is a hothead and not ready to lead the investigation.’
That was also Deighton’s opinion of him. She still didn’t understand why the investigator had been allowed to head up the team in the first place. She suspected it had more to do with Deighton’s history with the Taggart’s. Was this entire charade to teach Bill Taggart a lesson?
‘I’m not saying he’s perfect, but—’ Shaw continued.
She snapped her fingers at the room. ‘Someone else who is not part of the London office, please.’
Shaw sat back in his chair, eyes blazing.
Emotions had no place in Daphne’s world. Emotions got people killed, or worse, fired. Twenty years as CEO of the Earth Security Centre had taught her how to play the game the way the men did.
The representative from the Bangladesh office raised his hand. Daphne nodded at him to proceed. ‘Was there an issue with the military personnel Taggart had been assigned?’ he said. ‘Two of the officers followed the alien after last week’s meeting.’
Yes, Caldwell and Page had done the exact same thing Taggart had. But it was Taggart’s job to keep them under control.
‘Nothing more than usual with those beefed-up military types,’ said Daphne. ‘I’m looking for real suggestions, people.’
The rep from the Tokyo office stood up and bowed to his host. ‘Please, Ms Gilchrist-san. How much does Taggart know about our situation?’
Junsuke Sato was the only rep that Daphne could tolerate. It had been ingrained in her to show respect to the Japanese man.
‘Konnichiwa, Sato-san,’ she responded with a brief respectful bow. ‘Other than the basics, nothing. Shaw, care to elaborate?’
‘He still thinks he’s on a fact-finding mission. He knows little about the Indigenes or where they came from. As you instructed, I fed him the false background files.’
The files had come from the World G
overnment; some propaganda ones, most of them real. Deighton wanted Taggart to know what he faced, but not why. She was also a little fuzzy on the why.
‘Good. I’m ordering Taggart to return on the next passenger ship leaving Exilon 5 tomorrow. We will speak to him then.’
‘But what about his wife?’ asked Sato. ‘After two years, he is still obsessed with finding her. What does he know about her fate?’
‘He still thinks the Indigenes took her. I don’t plan on correcting that.’ She couldn’t if she tried. Deighton had never shared more than the basics with her. She went missing during a routine mission. That was how Deighton had explained it. ‘He’s more useful fighting against the Indigenes than with them.’
‘Is he a risk?’ said Sato.
Daphne shook her head. ‘He is manageable. Shaw will see to that.’
‘But what if he finds out about her?’
She smiled. ‘I really don’t see how that’s possible. He doesn’t have access to that information and I’m not about to tell him, are you?’
Sato shook his head and sat down.
The Bangladesh rep spoke again. ‘What exactly do the Indigenes know about us?’
‘Very little, if Taggart’s observations are anything to go by. Although the revelation about what we are must have come as a shock to this “Stephen” character. The boy, Ben Watson, had no idea what he was saying, and to whom.’
‘Have the files from the investigation been processed yet?’ asked the San Francisco rep.
Daphne slid her eyes to her number one. ‘Brett?’
‘Not yet,’ said Suzanne. ‘We’re sending them down to Level Five now. They will be processed later on this afternoon.’
‘Brief me straight away when that’s done,’ said Daphne.
Sato stood, still looking concerned. Daphne released a soft sigh.
‘Forgive me for my worry, but we know not what information the Indigenes have on us,’ he said. ‘Do we know what they plan next?’
‘No, we don’t.’ She offered him a smile. ‘But I can assure you, we have put in place the proper measures to make sure no harm comes to us. The meeting with Ben Watson was innocent enough. I don’t think the Indigenes will act on their new findings, at least not straight away. I’m still looking for suggestions from the table.’
They had a rogue investigator about to be recalled, a bunch of files from the investigation that were most likely useless, and a race on Exilon 5 that still needed controlling. Not many people knew about the Indigenes, and that’s how Deighton wanted it.
No suggestions were put forward. That disappointed Daphne. She’d wanted some new ideas that might remove some of Deighton’s control.
She stood and brushed down her suit. ‘Let’s reconvene when we’ve given this situation more thought. Next time, I want one idea from everybody.’
‘On a related matter,’ said Suzanne. ‘We’re short of people in Level Five. With the extra work coming our way, we’ll need an extra body to pick up the slack.’
Daphne snapped her fingers. ‘Who do you have as replacement?’
‘I have some options available in Document Control and Storage,’ said Suzanne. ‘But the specific person I recommend is Laura O’Halloran.’
Daphne’s interest piqued. The girl from the lobby, the one Daphne had made a spectacle of.
‘What can you tell me about her?’
‘Three years on the job. Lives alone. Only child. Has a mother she doesn’t visit often. Father is dead. No friends outside of work. She volunteers for extra shifts when they arise.’
Everything she already knew about the girl. But when the time came for Daphne to choose her own fate, she’d need people on her side. People who would know a truth she was not permitted to divulge.
‘Sounds like a controllable candidate. Inform her of the promotion, effective immediately, and make her swear to all-out confidentiality. The last thing we need is for the human population to get wind of an alien race occupying their saviour planet. Deighton and the board members need the transfer to Exilon 5 to go ahead as planned. Thank you everyone.’
Suzanne nodded and headed for the door.
Daphne motioned for her to wait. The room cleared until it was just the two of them. ‘Make sure her clearance is restricted,’ said Daphne. ‘I don’t want her getting access to Level Six information unless I give the order. Taggart’s files should be clean enough. Need-to-know only. Got it?’
Suzanne nodded. ‘Understood.’
‘Will she be a problem?’
‘Not if I tell Chuck to keep her in line.’
The worker in booth ten on Level Five. A creepy fellow with a stick up his backside.
‘Good. As soon as she’s settled and you have them ready, give her Taggart’s files for processing.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Suzanne. ‘She has no experience at this level. We have twenty-two other operators with better experience.’
‘It’s exactly for that reason she’s getting them. If anything should go wrong, if the news about the Indigenes gets out, we’ll need someone to blame.’
20
It had taken years for Bill to build up trust, but now it hung in the balance. He had almost guaranteed Gilchrist and Deighton a result from the day’s operation—an alien to question, at a minimum. He’d even assured the pair the Indigene wouldn’t be expecting them at the second meeting.
Bill walked back to the platform where Caldwell waited.
‘What did you see?’ he asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘I thought we weren’t supposed to follow them.’
Bill couldn’t stand Caldwell, a stocky-built asshole with a problem following directions. He made it outside without telling him as much. Voices from his team buzzed in his ear. He thought he heard Officer Page mention something about Gilchrist. The idea of doing a debriefing with the team now made his stomach churn. He’d just broken the one rule he’d told them all to follow.
‘We should meet to discuss this,’ said Caldwell.
Bill pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Not yet.’
‘When?’
Bill waved his hand at him. ‘I’ll let you know.’
He walked the three miles from New Victoria station to Cantaloupe. All that chasing had given him an appetite, but his foolish actions had killed it again. What he needed now was time to think.
Bill idled outside Cantaloupe, knowing results like today’s ones wouldn’t stay quiet for long. He needed to get ahead of the news. He was sure Caldwell would phone this in if he didn’t first. He ducked down an alleyway and called Gilchrist back on Earth, a connection made possible by the interstellar wave. Pacing the alley, his gut twisted with nerves. The connection rang and rang.
Eventually someone answered. ‘Hello?’
Bill released a breath, recognising the voice of Gilchrist’s assistant. ‘Yes, can you put me through please?’
‘I’m sorry, Ms Gilchrist is in a meeting.’
‘Well tell her it’s Bill Taggart. She’s going to want to speak to me.’
‘Her instructions were clear. I can’t make an exception.’
Bill ground his fists into his legs. ‘Well, when is she due to be out of it?’
‘I’m not sure. I’ll make sure to tell her you called.’ The connection ended abruptly.
‘Fuck!’ Bill yelled. A couple of passersby slowed and stared at him.
He stared back. ‘What?’
Hands on hips, he doubled over and released his anger in a loud grunt. Then he marched to the restaurant.
The bell on Cantaloupe’s door rattled overhead. It was early enough in the day that his usual seat by the window was free. He ordered lasagne from the menu, earning him a curious look from the waitress.
‘I skipped breakfast,’ he growled at her.
Bill slumped back in his seat and waited for his food to arrive. It didn’t take long for his thoughts to comb over that morning’s events.
How could he be so stupid? The alien had been
right there. He’d faced off against him in the tunnels. His arrival had even caught the alien off guard. It had been the perfect time to ask about Isla. But he’d stood frozen in place, unable to move let alone demand answers.
Had he scared off the alien now? Would Stephen risk meeting Ben Watson a third time?
Bill shook his head and smiled. No he wouldn’t.
At least he had a recording of the meeting. Audio and visual. Maybe he could learn something new from the footage.
His irritation set his mind to race faster than it already was. The way forward refused to come to him. He’d messed everything up.
Bill buried his face in his hands. ‘I shouldn’t have gone after him.’
The waitress startled him as she arrived with a plate of lasagne, a side order of bread and a cup of strong black coffee. He looked up and muttered a quick thanks at her.
The smell made his mouth water; he shoved his first mouthful down. He ignored the burn and the fact his overuse of Actigen had killed his taste buds. A few minutes later, he mopped up the remaining tomato sauce with a slice of bread.
Bill sat back with his coffee. The food tempered his frayed nerves and left him feeling drained. He was certain his actions had driven the Indigene away for good.
But something about the alien seemed off.
Feral, wild. Known to kill on sight.
Official reports harped on about how these feral Indigenes lacked real intelligence. Who the hell had compiled that data? The filtration device, the artificial skin, the ability to communicate? It all pointed to intelligence. But whatever had the aliens running scared, it didn’t give them the right to threaten humans.
What would Isla have done? How would she have handled this situation?
He knew the answer. She’d have tried to understand the Indigenes. For the first time since this began, Bill wondered about Stephen and his story.
Sipping on his coffee, he watched the people of New London on the streets outside. The transfer numbers had eased off, but as far as he knew the progamme was still on track. The World Government had done well to ease the residents into a new life of clean air and no overcrowding. A tacky neon sign caught his eye, welcoming people inside the only digital library in New London. These days, people showed little interest in libraries, and so few knew the history of how humans had ended up on Exilon 5.
