“I think bravery and courage are more similar than you make them out to be.”
“If you really believe that, then we won't see each other after today.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because if you are as courageous as you are brave, you'll see us for what we really are. You'll realise that walking your own path is safer, and you'll know that there is no way you can come back.”
“What are you talking about? Good God! What you are suggesting is madness,” he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. She still wasn't laughing.
“There's no place for courage in Omega Tower, Zack. Perhaps they didn't tell you that, but that doesn't mean that it isn't the truth.” She walked towards the door, her fingers trailing on the edge of the bed as she stared at him, their eyes aligned. She lingered before resting back onto it. With her right hand she reached back and pulled open the door. Noises from the corridor flooded in, people, laughter, feet scurrying. The smell from the primroses drifted through on a summer breeze. Somebody must have opened a window. “And as for God, I wouldn't mention him, whichever one you're referring to.” She sank back onto her elbows, let her legs part so that he could see up her dress. He swallowed hard, unsure if she was trying to scare him or seduce him. He stood up to leave.
“Thanks for the tea.” He took three large steps to the door. As few as possible. All the hope he felt at the beginning of their conversation had evaporated. She seemed as crazy as everybody else, talking in riddles and not making any sense. She leaned off the edge of the bed, her neck outstretched, blocking his path. As strange as the whole situation seemed to him, in some ways he was desperate to touch her. Just the idea of placing his hands on her body, or running his lips over the soft hollow of her neck was exhilarating. God, it had been so long since he had seen a woman up this close. Her skin was so fresh, and her face, although not beautiful, was kind. Her eyes drew him in as they glistened in the daylight, which seemed to stream in from every corner of the room. His pulse had quickened, but he didn't know if it was through excitement or fear.
“Leave your courage at the door tomorrow, Zack. And then, when you have finished outside, come and find me. I'll be here, waiting for you.”
Chapter Twenty Four
The meeting with Sarah left a sense of restlessness hanging over him as he arrived back in his room. It was a feeling he knew well from puberty. Hormones. Sensations he had done well at controlling for the last ten years. She wasn't even his type. She was short, skinny, cropped hair. She was all bone. Samantha was curves; round ass, big boobs. His type. But Samantha wasn't here. Sarah was here. It had been ten years. She was next door. She was flirting with him, wasn't she? She wanted him. Why else would she have sprawled back on the bed like she had? And she was wearing a dress. He could nearly see.....
He got up, took a shower and let the water run over him so that it could drown out his desires. Why couldn't he handle these feelings anymore? His skin was on fire and the urges kept coming in waves. He could hear her, even with the sound of the water cascading over his ears. She was doing it on purpose. Reminding him that she was there. He looked at himself in the mirror, his body telling him one thing, his mind telling him another. It was a bad idea. A really bad idea. She was as good as a colleague, and having to face a colleague at work the next day after doing something stupid was complicated. But at least you got to go home at the end of the day. This was home. This was home.
“This is home,” he said aloud, as if he had only just realised, as if his brain was that of another person and had only just been informed. “This is home,” he said again with more certainty. The words were enough to settle him and he grabbed a towel, just as somebody knocked the door. He secured the towel in a knot at his waist and wandered through to the main room, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him. He flicked the lever to see through the glass. The fear rose in his throat faster than he could blink. Black caps, white boiler suits, black epaulets. He didn't need to see the rest of them to know it was a couple of Guardians. Here they didn't wear balaclavas, but the fear remained the same.
“Mr. Christian. Please open the door.” Had Sarah called them? Was it some kind of test? That's it. It was over.
“Ur, I'm not dressed.”
“Mr. Christian. I repeat. Please open the door.” He staggered back and forth between the wardrobe and the door, wetting the floor further. If it was over, he wanted to be dressed. He had found some dignity in Omega Tower and didn't want to get dragged out in nothing more than a towel, slipping through their fingers as they grappled at him. But he had been conditioned. You didn't make a Guardian wait. He opened the door, expecting them to push their way in, Assister in hand. But they didn't.
As he peered out he saw that there were four Guardians. Two facing him, two facing away. But there was something else. Blond hair. The two Guardians in front stepped to the side, parting in the middle. Behind them Emily was standing with her head bowed, dressed in a white Omega dress.
“Are you not going to invite me in?”
“Of course, of course.” He staggered back to let her pass. He folded his arms, conscious of his bare chest. “Sit down, please. I mean, if you want to,” he mumbled.
She shook her head. “No, I can't stay long. I just wanted to say welcome to Omega Tower. But also, I wanted to say that I am sorry for leaving NAVIMEG like I did. I got scared when you realised where I was from.” She too folded her arms, and the defensive stance was enough to shift Zack out of his position. He let his arms hang loosely by his side for a moment, before bringing one of them across his soft stomach.
“I was trying to help you up.”
“I know that now. But when you saw the tattoo I panicked, and I just had to get out of there. I haven't dared go back since. Going there was stupid anyway.”
“No it wasn't. It wasn't stupid.” He moved closer to her, cautiously hanging onto the kitchenette worktop for stability. “I'm glad you went there. Otherwise I might never have met you.” She smiled. “I'm sorry you lost your iPod, though. I took it but,” he paused, suddenly guilty, “I left it in Delta. I gave it away.”
“Don't worry.”
“So there really is a way out. I mean other than the lottery. It's possible.”
“For me, yes. For the others, no.”
“But if you get in and out, then the others surely can. It's safe now. If they knew that they could do something.” She walked closer to him, brought up a hand to touch his arm but hesitated as it reached his skin. She let it hang by her side, but leaned in closer. He could smell jasmine, sage, the same smell that he had detected in the sublevels of Delta. It was coming from her hair.
“Don't fool yourself into thinking that it is safe. I have four Guardians with me. My father is the president. I can get away with things.” She began shaking her head. “But you will not have the same benefits. I shouldn't be here, but I had to come.” She looked back over her shoulder to the Guardians and then as she turned to Zack she leaned in closer. He could feel the heat of her body against his. She started to whisper and he could feel her breath on his cheek. “They are watching you, Zack. You have to know that.”
“Who is watching me?” he asked.
“Shh. Everybody,” she sighed. “Tomorrow is your first day. They will test you. They want to know that you are with them. Remember the words of the manifesto. Every Citizen of New Omega shall work for the good of all.”
“The fifth creed.”
“Yes. Don't forget that when you go out there tomorrow. Don't do anything crazy.”
“You mean courageous?” he joked, thinking of his earlier conversation. Sarah had gone quiet on the other side of the wall. Maybe she had seen the Guardians outside her door and wondered at first if they were for her. Did they instil the same fear here as they did in Delta Tower? He had forgotten all about the fact that he was wearing nothing more than a towel and chatting to the president's daughter. Having Emily so close to him had activated some sort of innate response, as
if he was out in a bar on a Friday night. Be a smart ass. Try to impress her. It wasn't even conscious.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, telling himself to focus.
“This isn't a joke, Zack.” She tutted, louder than her words. What was wrong with him? He was messing around as if she was some girl he was hoping to pick up and take home. Had he forgotten that this was the president's daughter? What was he doing? Was he flirting with her?
“I'm sorry. Of course it isn't.”
“Listen, do what you are supposed to do. Work for the good of all. But just remember who ‘all’ really are.”
“Who are ‘all’?” he asked, but she was already through the door and in the protective custody of the Guardians. She left him standing in the middle of the room dripping onto the floor, uncertain exactly what it was that she was trying to tell him.
Chapter Twenty Five
Zack was awake before the sun broke through. Most of the sky was purple, yet the horizon appeared deep grey as if the morning had been dipped in the remains of the night. Zack hadn't slept well. Where was he? Home? Heaven? Who knew?
Hell?
Simon was warning him away from Emily. Emily was warning him, it seemed, away from everything and everybody. And as for Sarah, he had no idea what she was proposing, warning against, or if she was just going stir crazy like some of those locked away in Delta Tower. Like those on level forty eight. He could hear her in the room next door. At 5 AM she had taken a shower. She was singing to herself. Afterwards it had gone quiet for a while, before he heard her door open. Seven minutes of silence followed. He watched the clock, followed her movements. He didn’t know why. He was certain that at one point she was standing outside his door, and as he watched the crack between his room and the hallway he convinced himself that he could see the shadows of her movement. What was she up to? Waiting for him?
Simon arrived on the stroke of seven, and as he walked into the room the Personal Assistant on the television sensed his movement and woke up. Breakfast arrived only minutes later, as if Simon and the waitress had coordinated their arrival. It consisted of a boiled egg, brown toast triangles, and a perfectly straight banana. Genetically modified, Zack would guess. The egg was still a novelty, but there was a distinct powdery texture to it that left a coating on his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Plus, the yolk always had a green outer edge, as if the shell had been painted for Easter but had broken and the dye crept in, marbling the egg with the colour of choice. But the taste was good, so he crumbled it up and pressed it against the toast triangles with the back of his fork. Then he tucked the banana in his bedside drawer for later.
Whilst he ate, Simon briefed him on the plan for the day ahead. Every Monday and Friday he would be going outside. His aim; oversee the survey of the bridges, and assess the land for potential redevelopment. Don't deviate, and he was to ensure that he remained close to the security team going with him. Zack was tempted to ask again what the president had meant by securing the perimeter, but he didn't want to ask too many questions on his first day. He still felt the need to impress. Even Simon.
He was to report to BASEMENT LEVEL ONE at 10 am. This time, and this time only, Simon would accompany him. He would be provided with an orange overall, designed so that he wouldn't get lost. It would feel similar to his old Delta overalls, Simon suggested. Zack was to be transported to a predetermined location. He will collect data. Make assessments. Once he arrived back safely the tattoo would be removed. They would mark him with the new one. The Omega sign.
“Got it?” Simon asked. He had.
By the time he was suited up, wearing oversized wellington boots that were too big even for his feet, and thick black gloves that connected to his overalls, it was a little before ten in the morning. On the way to the basement Simon had insisted that they make a stop on the Community Level. He wouldn't tell Zack what it was for, and due to the absence of his Omega tattoo, Zack was forced to wait outside in the corridor. From his position outside the doors to the Community Level it was possible to see all the way from the ground floor up to level thirty one before the ceiling acted like a giant lid on the lower levels. A gigantic central atrium rose up like the lumen of a great artery. There was an air vent in the floor on the ground level, and if you placed your head over the railings you could feel the breeze ruffling your hair like the hand of a loving grandfather.
There were several women lingering outside the Community Level, and he got the impression they were talking about him. Perhaps they recognised him. They all had short cropped hair, so different to Emily whose long braid sashayed about as she moved, like a snake from the head of Medusa. It seemed obscene somehow. Aberrant. The cutting of hair was mandatory in Omega Tower. The women flashed their wrists at a sensor next to the doors. As they opened it split the word community in half. COMMU on the left and UNITY on the right, the U split straight down the middle.
The entrance corridor beyond the doors was covered by a frosted glass wall so that you couldn't see what was happening behind it. Sight was a risk, even here in Omega Tower. He wondered if maybe it was just to increase the desire. The craving. To make you want something off-limits like a piece of forbidden fruit, always unspeakably desirable.
He had been to a peep show with Samantha once. They had sat together in a small room, a window in front of them covered by a red velvet curtain. A table with tissues at the side. There was a smell in the room. Desire. Zack had put his money in the slot. Two Euros bought five minutes. You were allowed as many five minutes as you liked, but it wasn’t designed for that. It was designed for speed, to rush. From the moment you put your coin in the slot and the curtain retracted the time was running out. You could buy more time, but it was always running down, disappearing. The girl behind the curtain was a blonde, and she looked like Samantha. She was grinding up against a pole, naked except for a pair of platform stilettos. Samantha was sitting in front of Zack, covering him with her body. The thought of her watching the girl, the thought of the girl watching Samantha; God, it had been enough to drive him crazy. At the time he had reached around, touched Samantha where he knew she liked it. But all the while his eyes had been on the girl behind the glass, looking at the untouchable skin which he had paid for.
Lying in bed that night they had been talking about the girl, Zack teasing Samantha that she must be a bit gay because she had been turned on by her. It was just the novelty, she had said. Zack joked that if it was the novelty she wanted, then they should have asked her to come back to the hotel with them. Samantha started laughing as she pushed his hands away from her hips, saying that she didn’t think the girls got a choice about what they did or where they went. Of course they had a choice, Zack had replied. They were for sale. You could buy them. Pay them enough and they’ll do anything. Samantha said that she had seen a documentary once, casually as she turned over and lit a cigarette. She said that the girls were from Eastern Europe, that they had been offered jobs as dancers, waitresses, or something else that seemed glamorous. Samantha took a long drag on her cigarette before blowing it out in a jet. They were trafficked, she continued. She said it very matter of fact, plain as if it was a discussion about trading stocks, inanimate things without feelings or lives. They weren’t allowed to leave, and you couldn't just take them. They didn’t have a choice. Zack had said it was all ridiculous, that everybody had a choice. Samantha had nodded as if she agreed, but then said something that stuck with him for a long time afterwards and that he only now understood: Maybe they do have a choice, but the only choices they have are all so bad there isn’t any point in making them anymore.
The first section of road was smooth, and as they exited BASEMENT LEVEL ONE light flooded in through the tiny windows. It was the same van as he had arrived in. Duke, the leader of the team, had briefed him. They had three hours. After that point it was necessary to return. He didn’t say why. The rest of the team were all male, young, somewhere between twenty and thirty. They weren’t very talkative, and t
here was no banter. Zack held out his hand as a gesture before they got in the back of the truck, but only one of them took it. Jansen, he introduced himself as.
“So listen, when we pull up at the clearance point, I need you to stay in the van,” said Duke. He was tall, even when sitting down, all limbs and jutting knees. His feet were spread, angled outwards, and one of them was touching Zack’s boot. Zack pulled his foot away. “Nielsen, you’re first out, got it?” The one nearest the doors nodded, but still didn’t say a word. “Next, you. Got that, James?”
“Got it.” James had an accent, something Zack recognised. It certainly wasn’t English.
“Lund, I want you on point, okay? Clear the perimeter and give me the sign.” The one called Lund nodded. He reached into his pocket, shifted something into a more comfortable position and stood up and took a step towards the door. The one called Nielsen, the one to be first out raised his hand up to Lund's chest, said something that Zack didn’t catch. “That’s enough,” bellowed Duke, standing up, his body bent double because he didn’t fit in the van. “I don’t want any of your shit today, Nielsen. You wait there,” he said, pointing his finger at Zack.
The van pulled up and Zack remained in his seat. There was something in the van with them, and he couldn't quite place it. It wasn't tension. It wasn't fear. It was an atmosphere that had descended upon them as the doors were closed, as if it had been hiding in there, waiting for them. He expected the security team to be friendlier. Perhaps even to enjoy the prospect of being outside. But there was nothing like enjoyment detectable.
The doors opened and Nielsen, followed by Lund, stepped out. One by one the others followed, leaving only Zack in the van. He undid the straps and moved towards the opening. He could see what he thought was Delta in the background. A huge black lump trapped in another world, he thought to himself. Duke poked his head around the door, startling him. Zack could feel his pulse quicken, and he wondered if Duke could also hear it, such was the intensity of the pulsation.
The Dawn: Omnibus edition (box set books 1-5) Page 23
