Autumn

by David Moody

  The building itself looks like little more than a dilapidated shell from the outside, appearing almost on the verge of dereliction, and I guess that was half the appeal. You’d never suspect that anything with the potential to be world-changing could happen in a shit-hole like this. If you asked anyone where the major scientific developments were being made in this city, they’d all point you in the direction of the gleaming glass and metal spires at the high end of town. They couldn’t be more wrong. Those places are filled with bankers and other people who think they’re important but aren’t. This is where the real advances are being made.

  We park the car and I walk Joe down the dingy back-alley to the building entrance, gripping his hand tight just in case. With tall blocks on either side, it’s dark here even in daylight.

  The lobby of the building smells of piss, stale-beer, and other things I don’t even want to think about. The lift’s temperamental and Joe never feels safe in the rattling metal cage so we take the stairs to the top floor. He runs on ahead, leaving me behind, carrying the pizza. I can hear his footsteps thumping on the steps and occasionally I see a flicker of movement or a glimpse of his shadow so I know he’s okay. There’s no one else here. Three of the four floors are empty, and on the top floor there are PIN codes and biometric codes and good old-fashioned traditional locks and bolts preventing unauthorised access. Gill can’t afford to take any risks. This entire place can be locked down quicker than you can say ‘lock it down’.

  He’s waiting for me on the gloomy landing, leaning against the door, waiting for me to enter my PIN. We go through, the four, high-pitched bleeps and the clunk of the locking mechanism announcing our arrival. And here’s where things change. Beyond this corridor and the next strengthened door is another world. The lab cost a small fortune to design and install, and no expense was spared. In effect it’s a hermetically-sealed shell which was dropped into the top floor of the existing building. Within it are office, living and meeting spaces, and two further, even more rigorously sealed inner units. Gill and Alfie sometimes have to handle seriously dangerous shit in there. They can’t take any chances.

  A second PIN and a retina scan and we’re almost inside. Light floods through the inch thick safety glass, spilling into the corridor.

  ‘I saw your number,’ Joe says.

  ‘You shouldn’t have been looking. Don’t tell Mom.’

  He laughs. ‘Can you fix it so it takes pictures of my eye?’ he asks as I lean into the camera.

  ‘You’re too short,’ I tell him. ‘You’re only just tall enough to reach the handle. You need to grow first.’

  He punches me and I push him through the door. Gill spots him straight away. ‘Hey you!’ she shouts, and he runs over. He jumps up and wraps his arms around her. I check the doors are locked behind me then go through, passing Alfie who’s working at a desk strewn with papers.

  ‘Evening, Simon,’ he says, glancing up from his computer screen for the briefest of moments.

  ‘You okay, Alfie?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he replies with his typical, Vulcan-like lack of emotion. And that’s it. Conversation over.

  ‘You okay to take a break?’ I ask Gill. She’s already sitting on the sofa with Joe in the rest area. I take the pizza over and Joe dives in. ‘How are things? Had a better day?’

  ‘Much better,’ she answers. ‘No generals or bureaucrats to deal with today.’

  ‘Generals?’ Joe says, puzzled. ‘Generals are soldiers, aren’t they?’

  Gill looks over at me before answering. ‘That’s right, honey.’

  ‘Why soldiers?’

  ‘There are lots of people interested in what we’re doing here.’

  ‘I know that, but why soldiers?’

  Sometimes Joe acts older than his years. Most kids would just accept there are soldiers involved somewhere along the line and leave it at that. Not our boy. He needs more.

  ‘There are some nasty people in the world, you know that, don’t you?’ Gill says.

  ‘Of course I do. What’s that got to do with it?’

  ‘Can you remember what I’ve told you before about what we’re doing here?’

  ‘Not really. A little…’

  ‘Okay, so you know when you get sick and you go to the doctor, what happens?’

  ‘Time off school?’

  ‘That’s not what Mom means,’ I interrupt, and Joe flashes me a quick grin.

  ‘Medicine,’ he says.

  ‘Exactly,’ says Gill. ‘Right now, if you need medicine, the doctor can give you a pill or a capsule, maybe even a jab.’

  ‘I don’t like needles.’

  ‘I know you don’t. Neither does your dad,’ she continues, winking at me. Joe gorges on his pizza as Gill explains. ‘You know how you sometimes hear about diseases going crazy? It happens in other countries usually. Pandemics. Have you heard that word?’

  ‘Don’t think so.’

  ‘You remember last year when half your class was off with a cold at the same time?’ I ask him.

  ‘I remember.’

  ‘Well a pandemic is like that but much, much worse. Lots of people getting really sick at the same time.’

  ‘Sometimes the reason that happens is because we can’t get enough medicine to enough people,’ Gill says, ‘either because it’s too expensive or too dangerous. So what we’re doing here is trying to find a way of giving those people their medicine and making them better without having to give them pills or shots. Does that make sense?’

  ‘I think so, but how else can you give it to them?’

  ‘In the air,’ she explains. ‘That’s what we’re trying to do. Just pump it into the sky so it can make everyone better at once.’

  He chews on his pizza and nods thoughtfully.

  ‘Your mom’s pretty smart, isn’t she?’ Alfie says, finally coming over and helping himself to a slice.

  Joe nods. ‘I still don’t get why there were soldiers here though.’

  Gill looks across at me again. How much do we tell him? How much does he need to know?

  ‘The world can be a rough place at times, son,’ I say. ‘People fall out and start fighting.’

  ‘Don’t patronise me, Dad. I know about wars.’

  ‘Never mind that, when did you find out what patronise means?’

  Gill takes over. ‘So our soldiers try not to start these fights, but they have to do what they can to look after people like us, don’t they?’

  He thinks about what she’s said. ‘So they want what you’re making so they can spread bad medicine, is that it? To sort out all the bad people who start all the fights?’

  ‘That’s one option,’ Alfie says with his usual lack of tact. Gill jumps in quick.

  ‘Sometimes bad people try to use diseases to make innocent people sick. They’re terrorists, Joe. You’ve heard that word before, right? What we’re doing is making something that’ll stop those germs from working. Kind of like a shield. It’ll stop the bad stuff getting through. Understand?’

  ‘Think so.’

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yep. I need to pee.’

  With that he jumps up and disappears into just about the only other room he can get into here without a PIN code or military-level clearance.

  ‘You think he’s okay with all of that?’ I ask Gill.

  ‘Joe’s a smart kid. He can tell when someone’s avoiding answering his questions. Best to tell him straight.’

  ‘He’ll probably talk at school.’

  ‘I’ll get him to sign a non-disclosure form.’

  ‘I’m serious.’

  ‘So what if he does? To be honest, Si, I bet he already has. Thing is, no one will believe him. He could give them the address of this place and it wouldn’t matter. Anyone coming here would take one look and think he was making it all up.’ She looks up as Joe comes running back over and reaches for another slice of pizza. ‘Did you wash your hands?’

  ‘Yep,’ he says, though he probably hasn’t. Gill pulls him clos
e and holds him tight.

  ‘Enough about my boring work, what have you been up to today sunshine?’

  #

  I drop Joe off at school first thing then run a few mundane errands, trying to avoid going back home because I know there’s equally mundane stuff waiting there that I don’t want to do. I missed a call from Gill while I was filling up the car. I’m in the neighbourhood, so I drive over to the lab to see her. There’s a car I don’t recognise parked in the alleyway next to Gill’s and Alfie’s. Unusual plates. Dark windows. Sinister looking.

  ‘Who the hell’s this?’ some stuffed suit demands when I get upstairs and let myself into the lobby area of the lab.

  ‘This is my husband, Simon,’ Gill tells him. She looks flustered and angry.

  ‘And he has full access to your research and facilities?’ the suit continues, talking about me as if I’m not here.

  ‘No, though he does have some limited access,’ she tries to explain. ‘Simon sometimes helps out with processing and data entry, and occasionally transcribes my notes. It’s all authorised. He has the right clearance levels and he’s been background checked.’

  ‘Does the General know about this?’

  ‘I haven’t made a point of telling him, but he appreciates we need some level of administrative support. Look, Simon and I have a son. Simon looks after him so I can work full-time. I’m here all hours so it just wouldn’t be feasible not to allow—’

  ‘I’m not happy about this.’

  I’m conscious that I’m standing in the middle of this discussion like a spare prick at a wedding. I offer the guy my hand, but he doesn’t react.

  ‘This is Mr Jenkins,’ Gill says, ‘one of General Nicholls’ team. He was just leaving.’

  That explains it. I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe that was why Gill called, to tell me to stay away? I should have checked first.

  ‘I’ll get out of the way.’

  Even from the living space on the other side of the lab I can still hear everything. Jenkins’ voice is naturally loud, and Gill is clearly exasperated. I try to talk to Alfie but he stays focused on his work, not wanting to get involved.

  ‘This is just symptomatic of the kind of issues we’re having with your approach here.’

  ‘But does it matter? If you’re getting results then—’

  ‘We’re not getting results though, are we?’

  ‘We’re just a few months away from finishing this now, Jenkins. Years of progress and it’s just a matter of weeks before we can give you everything you’ve—’

  ‘Save your breath, Dr Huxtable, we’ve been through this before. You know our position now. We’ll talk again tomorrow when you’ve had time to consider the options.’

  And with that he’s gone. Gill walks him down to his car. I watch from the window as he disappears, then wait for her to return. She seems to take forever coming back up to the top floor.

  ‘What was all that about?’ I ask.

  ‘They’re shutting us down,’ she says, in tears. ‘They’re pulling our funding. We’re so close, Simon, but it’s not good enough for them. They think they have enough experience and data to take the project on in-house.’

  ‘So what are you going to do?’

  She slumps down into the nearest chair. ‘How much did you hear?’

  ‘Not much.’

  ‘They’ve given me an ultimatum. I can walk away from all of this, or I can go and work for the General on his terms. Not much of a choice, really.’

  ‘You didn’t answer my question. Those are the options they’ve given you, but what are you going to do? What do you want to do?’

  ‘I can’t go and work for the military, Si, I just can’t. The second I sell out and jump in bed with them exclusively is the second the rest of my research dies. The vaccination applications, the humanitarian aspects of what we’re doing here… all that will be forgotten. Oh, sure, they’ll tell me otherwise to keep me sweet, but we both know it’ll happen. I can’t turn my back on what we’ve been doing here, Simon, you know I can’t.’

  ‘You knew this would happen eventually though.’

  ‘But we were so close…’

  ‘So what happens next?’

  She sighs and looks up at the ceiling. ‘I’ve only been able to keep working because the military were bankrolling us. Without their cash I’m screwed. I mean, they’ll give me a pay off and as long as they’ve got the research Jenkins says they’ll negotiate on these premises, let me stay a while longer…’

  ‘So do that. How much longer do you need?’

  ‘How long’s a piece of string?’

  ‘Well are we talking weeks, months or years?’

  ‘Six months maybe. A year at the outside.’

  ‘And can we do it? Can we afford it with what they’re giving you?’

  ‘No way. I’ve got maybe a third of what I need.’

  ‘What if I went back to work? Then there’s the equity in the apartment…’

  ‘It’s a possibility.’

  I think carefully before I ask my next question. I’m not sure how she’ll take it. ‘And are you completely sure you can’t work with them? I mean, you’ve been working on your stuff without them knowing since you started here. Couldn’t you just carry on?’

  She shakes her head. ‘Not that simple. The General has made it very clear that I’d be part of a team under his direct command. I get the impression I’d have to account for every second of my time. I just know I wouldn’t be able to work on anything but the military applications of the project.’

  ‘You’re sure about that?’

  Gill doesn’t answer. She gets up and starts pacing the room, tears flooding down her face now. I move towards her but she pushes me away, not wanting to be touched.

  ‘Why can’t they see?’ she sobs. ‘My work has the potential to save thousands of lives, millions even, but they’re not interested. Profit and politics comes first. They’re too busy starting wars to realise how pointless what they’re doing really is.’

  ‘You’ll never change them. It’s a mind-set. It’s why the fuckers with all the guns keep telling us they work for the Department of Defence. Bastards.’

  ‘I can’t do it, Si,’ she says, finally relenting and reaching out for me. I hold her tight, her body rocking in my arms as she sobs. ‘I can’t turn my back on my research. I couldn’t live with myself if I don’t see it through.’

  ‘Then don’t. Tell them to stick their job and keep working here. We’ll find a way.’

  #

  Considering the economic environment, finding work was pretty easy. So far it’s mostly been cleaning, bar work, or flipping burgers alongside people half my age, but they all pay and I’ve been able to juggle them around Joe. Selling the apartment has given us a temporary financial cushion, but it also seems to have increased the pressure on Gill. It’s been a struggle since we moved into the cramped living quarters in the lab. More than that, she knows that once the money from the apartment has gone, that’s it. We’ve nothing else to fall back on.

  At least Joe gets to see more of his mom now. Shame the three of us don’t get to spend as much family time together as we’d like. The novelty’s definitely worn off, and Joe gets left alone in front of the TV more than either of us would like, but I keep telling myself that this is only temporary. It’s been almost three months now. It’ll all be worth it when Gill gets to present her research.

  She had to let Alfie go. Truth be told, that was probably a good thing and it was partly my suggestion. This place is our home now, and it didn’t feel appropriate having him around so much. To be honest, I think he was glad to leave. We made it easy for him, and he hinted he had something else lined up. It means I’ve been having to take up some of the slack, of course. I feel like a glorified secretary a lot of the time, typing up Gill’s notes and helping document her progress.

  Things are different when I look around the school yard now. Now I feel like the rest of the parents:
tired and irritable, struggling to make ends meet. Of course if the teacher went around the class and asked, Joe would still tell them all his mom’s busy saving the world. I don’t know how much of what’s going on he’s picked up. He’s a bright kid, though. He knows we’re stressing, and he also knows sleeping on a camp-bed next to your parents on the floor of a science lab isn’t how most kids his age spend their time.

  ‘Hey Dad!’ he shouts as he runs over, pushing his way through the crowds.

  ‘Hey you!’

  I grab his hand and take his bag.

  ‘Where are we going?’ he asks.

  ‘Home.’

  ‘You mean the lab?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Can we go somewhere else?’

  ‘Like where?’

  ‘The park? Please, Dad.’

  ‘Believe me, Joe, there’s nothing I’d rather do. Sorry, though, not tonight.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I’ve got work.’

  ‘Again?’

  ‘Again.’

  ‘You’re always at work.’

  ‘At least it means you get to spend time with your mom.’

  ‘I’d rather spend time with you.’

  ‘Don’t say that. Do you have any idea how much Mom loves you?’

  ‘Nope. She’s always working.’

  We stop walking and I crouch down so I’m at Joe’s eye-level. ‘Don’t talk like that, sunshine. Mom and I love you more than anything else in the world.’

  ‘I know you do.’

  ‘Mom does too.’

  ‘She doesn’t show it. I hate it when you’re not there, Dad. It’s like I don’t matter anymore. She’s always tired and cross. When I ask her to do stuff with me she just gets mad and shouts, then she gets upset when I get upset. I don’t like it.’

  ‘I’ll talk to her.’ We stay staring at each other for a few seconds longer. ‘What do you want for dinner, champ?’

  He shrugs his shoulders. ‘Burger, maybe?’

  ‘Burger it is.’ I grab his hand and cross the road to get to the nearest place. Giving my son a treat is the very least I can do. I’m going to spend most of the evening flipping burgers for other people. Why shouldn’t Joe get one too?