business about Mark, and everyone else, but there’s specific circumstances all over those – i.e. THEY ARE NOT TRUE - and anyway, I’m sick of the way everyone extrapolates all the time. Yeah, so he stole the coat. Yeah, so he took some drugs. Suddenly he’s the root of all evil and let’s lock him up and burn the key, then let’s just decide to blame him for everything.
I know the way these things work. I saw what happened to Beryl. And to Jared. And all the rest. You people – if you are what I think you are – you people, you’re not after answers are you, you’re just after neat and tidy solutions that will make the problems go away so you can go and screw someone else’s life up. I’m not about to let you play your little games with me. Anything you get, you work for, understand? I’m telling the truth here. I’m admitting about the VDE, and, indirectly the G6 – though that’s hardly my fault – but the rest is lies. You will see. I have morals and I have integrity and you can’t take that away from me. Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re thinking I stole the VDE and took the pills, so who am I to judge? But that’s just lazy thinking. The VDE – well that was mine, anyway, and the pills – well, I didn’t know they were stolen, did I? It’s easy to say that I could have just told X and then maybe a whole lot of hassle would have been saved, but what would you have done in my place? Yeah, of course you would have done the same, whatever you say. Especially given X’s temper. I had been kicked around enough that day.
Yeah, yeah, still feeling, you know… not quite right
No, I don’t know. Never get ill, I’m one hundred percent fit. (This, bizarrely, was true). You’ve just gone white
Don’t… don’t worry, I’ll be fine.
Yeah. All right. Just don’t throw up over me, all right. Now… where was I?
Err… G6?
Yeah, that’s right, G6, it’s gone. And fucking Sally Evans let it happen.
But… what’s G6?
He sniffed. Course. Course you don’t know. It’s from our pharma department…
But we don’t have a pharma department?
Another sniff. Yeah, we do. Well, kind of. It’s a collaboration with Department G.
Department G?
What the fuck’s wrong with you, with all the questions? Yeah, department G. Oh.
I didn’t think Department G existed, I ventured hesitantly. I thought it was just a myth? I thought it was shut down?
Fuck’s sake. Course it exists. What do you think, it’s just a story to scare your kids? Jesus, Sylvain, grow up. You don’t even have kids, do you? No, of course you don’t. Divorced, right, from Sylvia. Shame really, she was lovely. Still is I guess. What’s she doing these days? Maybe you could give me her number. (He started coughing and spluttering again and I couldn’t help notice the mess his spittle was making on my Persian rug). Shit. Shit. Listen. Sylvain. There’s a reason I’m telling you this.
There is?
Yeah. Look. Marks has gone. Evans has gone. Both shit. Couldn’t fucking trust them. I need someone I can trust. Need to get security under control. I mean. Jesus. First the invisibility cloak…
It’s not a…
Yeah, yeah, I know, fuck’s sake, that’s not the point. The point is first, that goes. And then, after we all know we need to get our security sorted, then, suddenly, G6, it disappears. Right from under our noses. Shit. Maybe it was Evans. Maybe she was working for the Russians. Maybe she got herself in on the back of stealing the suit and then she started. God, maybe I should sack all of them. Maybe I should deal with them…
What is it?
What?
G6? What is it?
It’s a drug. Experimental. Still being developed. Shit. I hope no bastard idiot actually takes it …. you’ve gone really white now. Fuck. Pull yourself together Sylvain. I don’t need you to be lily livered, I thought you were made of sterner stuff…
No, no, I’m fine, really.
Don’t you want to go and throw up or something? Maybe you need a drink? Yeah. I could do with a drink. Do you have any of that decent stuff? What was it?
Balvenie 50 years old….
Yeah, that’s right, go get us a couple of glasses
I must admit he did have a point. We held a glass each – I guessed about five thousand sheets a glass – and the warmth of the alcohol helped me steady myself and refocus myself away from the darker thoughts that were flooding my mind.
Listen, Sylvain. I need someone I can trust. You understand me? You and me, we’ve been together, how long?
Erm…
Yeah, exactly. Ages. Years. More than years. I can trust you, Sylvain. God knows I don’t think I can trust anyone else. You understand me?
Well…
Yes, that’s right. I want you to be my Head of Security.
I must admit I hadn’t seen that coming. As I replay that conversation in my head, I can’t quite believe it, the signposts were obvious, but I missed it completely. I do have to say though that the irony wasn’t lost on me, but right at that moment what he was offering felt like manna from heaven. Even my fears about what that strange drug was doing to my brain and my body seemed more manageable.
So. What do you say?
But… I don’t know anything about security?
You probably know as much as Evans and Marks (he muttered). Seriously, Sylvain. Come on. Look, I don’t need you to know a lot about security. You’ve got loads of experts. Hell, fire them all and employ your own experts. I just need this to stop and I need someone I can trust.
But… what about the project?
Get someone else in. They can work for you. They can do the day to day management. Choose who you want. What about that guy, that mate of yours, Jeremy…
Jeremy?
No, not Jeremy, Justin. That’s him. What about him?
Erm…
No. Terrible idea. He’s fucking useless. We should fire him. Just (waving his hands expansively around) … just choose someone.
Okay?
Excellent. You’ll do it. That’s excellent. Sylvain Jones, my new head of security. We’ll announce it tomorrow.
So…
What?
Well. I’ll need to know things. Like, you know, Department G, and what this G6 drug does, and…
Why do you need to know that?
Well… if I need to get on top of this, I need to understand everything I’m dealing with.
(He drained the whisky and shook the glass at me for a refill). I’ll give you level 2 clearance. That’s easily enough for what you need. Get to Department G headquarters tomorrow first thing. They’ll be expecting you. There’s a briefing on Project U.
Head of Security. Not bad for a failed engineer. Sylvain Jones, Head of Security. It had a certain ring to it that I liked. Sylvain Jones, Head of Security and Projects, maybe even better, though a little long. I wondered how long it would take to get cards printed, with some corporate logo on the front; maybe I would be upgraded to the thicker card, the cards that looked like you’d arrived. A quick text to James to get on it straight away. And also, to find out other critical stuff, like whether I could upgrade my car, move into another office, all the critical stuff. Sally’s office, come to think of it, was huge, the second corner office in the building (after X’s, of course, that managed to span three of the four corners in a bizarre L-shaped structure that also incorporated a bathroom, a gym (though why on earth he had decided to have that there was a mystery to everyone, and the rumour was that the protective plastic coverings were still on all the machines), its own lift, a balcony that looked out over the large inner courtyard, and a secret room that was the subject of many rumours, most derogatory and linked to X’s physical constitution).
Still, Sally’s office wasn’t bad; it had a large mahogany desk and you sat with your back to the window, which meant no one could see what you were doing on your computer… it had its own minibar, its own video conferencing facilities (not that I ever used them, but the important thing was that you had them, a little like those strange optional extras o
n your car that didn’t do anything remotely useful but were impressive), and it had its own outer office for James to sit in. I realised that I would need extra security and privacy for my secretive meetings with Department G, and made a mental note to add it to the list of things I needed James to get on with. I would send him a text tonight, he could get on with stuff whilst I went to the briefing.
Department G. Now there was something. The secretive, mythical department, even more secret than ours, the very heart of the Ministry for Rural Affairs. It had existed, or so some rumours went; before X came along (coincidentally, roughly at the same time as me). His predecessor, a man named Mark Smith, had been in charge of both departments, driven by a belief that bio-engineering was the future, and that by combining technical innovation with pharmaceutical expertise we would gain a significant strategic advantage. However, suddenly everything changed - Mark disappeared, and X came along, promoted from within the Ministry’s fast track programme, and any mention of Department G that may have existed was suddenly erased. I have no idea whether this is relevant - people like to make connections where there aren’t any - especially in our line of work, where everything is experimental, and therefore anything weird is probably something to do with something we’ve done – but, do you remember a few years ago, that Sunday morning, when people woke up to find the streets full of dead rats? Remember, right?
And then remember that there was a hastily put out excuse by the government about having been experimenting with a sewer cleansing
An Innocent Man Page 18
