Jimmy Coates

by Joe Craig

  “Oh,” Eva called out, swivelling round as she waited for the lift. “I saw William Lee. He said something about trying to fix the satellite surveillance system. It wasn’t working properly or something.”

  “Across the whole of London?” Jimmy asked hopefully.

  “That’s what it sounded like,” said Eva. “And it didn’t seem like he was doing a good job of fixing it.” The lift arrived and Eva stepped in. “So they might not have such good coverage of the streets as usual. I’ll send you a message if that changes. Don’t forget – the puzzles in the paper!”

  “Thanks again, Eva,” whispered Jimmy.

  “Good luck.” Eva’s words were lost in the shadow of the lift doors.

  “We’re going to have some explaining to do,” said Felix with dread. Georgie and Jimmy nodded, silently, as the three of them looked up at Christopher Viggo’s campaign headquarters.

  There were more lights on inside than when they’d left. They could make out the silhouettes of Viggo’s staff throughout the building. Most importantly the lights were on on the top floor, where Jimmy, Felix and Georgie were meant to be fast asleep.

  “Looks like Mum’s up,” said Georgie. “Probably waiting for us.”

  “This is when being invisible would come in handy,” said Jimmy.

  “Yeah, right,” Georgie replied. “So you could sneak in and leave us to get into trouble!”

  “What happens to your clothes when you become invisible?” asked Felix, sounding genuinely confused. “You know, if that was actually something you could do.”

  “I don’t know.” Jimmy shrugged. “They go invisible too, I guess.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” said Georgie. “What would be the point of invisible clothes?”

  “That’s obvious,” said Felix. “To stop other invisible people seeing you naked.”

  “OK,” sighed Jimmy. “Do you want me to take you through all the reasons why that makes no sense at all?”

  They grinned sheepishly at the guards, who opened the gate without question, even though they looked like they would happily have murdered all three of them. Inside, they hurried to the lifts. Members of Viggo’s campaign staff were bustling about, taking calls and having heated discussions while two TV screens showed the rolling news station. Jimmy kept his head down and his hood up. Since the campaign started, he’d been nervous about NJ7 having a mole in Viggo’s camp. There’d been no sign of it, but he still preferred to remain anonymous. If NJ7 found out he was there it would only lead to trouble for everybody.

  Felix and Georgie didn’t bother to hide. In fact, Felix beamed at everybody, especially the women. He was used to joking around with Viggo’s staff whenever he got the chance.

  “I told you we should have gone through the service entrance,” Jimmy muttered.

  “What’s the point?” Felix replied. “Your mum obviously knows we’re not there.”

  “This lot don’t talk to Mum anyway,” added Georgie while they waited for a lift. “Chris has kept it all so… separate.”

  Jimmy knew Felix and Georgie were right, but he still felt awkward. He glanced at the faces of all the people working with Viggo to overthrow the Government. At the moment the Government usually ran the country without interference from ordinary people. There was normally no voting. The system was called ‘Neo-democracy’, which really meant no democracy at all. The Government had only agreed to hold this election because of the pressure from Jimmy and Viggo.

  Jimmy looked again at the people busily going about their work. They believed strongly enough in democracy and freedom to risk their lives. They would all be marked out as enemies of the state if Viggo lost the election the next day. But he won’t lose, Jimmy thought with a smile. We’ll overthrow NJ7 at last.

  As the lift took them up to the top floor, Jimmy felt his mind humming, but not with thoughts about the election.

  “We’ll get off at the floor below,” he announced quietly. “Then take the stairs. We can be back in our rooms before Mum stops us.”

  “How does that help?” asked Felix, stifling a yawn. “She’ll still go mental with us in the morning.”

  “No, she won’t,” said Jimmy. “The election starts in a few hours. She’ll be too busy helping with that. Then by the time it’s over and she gets the chance to talk to us about tonight, she’ll be a lot calmer. And hopefully she’ll be so happy because Chris will have won…”

  They did as he said, stepping into the darkness of the corridors on the floor below the apartment. They crept up the stairs with Jimmy leading the way.

  “This is genius, Jimmy,” whispered Felix. “Maybe we can pretend we never even left.”

  Jimmy held up a hand to tell him to be quiet and peered round the corner at the top of the stairs. The corridor was dark, but he could see the light from the door of the living room, where he reasoned his mum would be waiting, listening for the lift. He was about to signal for his friends to creep back to their rooms, but the sound of voices stopped him.

  He moved quickly and silently into the corridor, the carpet cushioning his steps. But instead of turning left towards where he was meant to be asleep, he dashed to the right and pushed his back up against the wall outside the living room. The door was slightly ajar, and from his position Jimmy had a perfect view through the crack at the hinges.

  “What are we doing?” Felix whispered, his hot breath exploding into Jimmy’s ear.

  Jimmy whipped round and planted a hand over his friend’s mouth. He held it there until he felt Felix’s body relax and signalled that he was listening. In turn, Felix turned to Georgie behind him and pressed a finger to his lips. Georgie rolled her eyes and mouthed a sarcastic, ‘Oh really!?’

  Jimmy’s eyes adjusted quickly to the bright light coming through the crack in the door. He could see the back of his mum’s head. She was sitting on the sofa in her dressing gown. But she wasn’t alone. To Jimmy’s surprise, Christopher Viggo was in the corner of the room, gripping the neck of an open champagne bottle in his fist.

  “I told you,” said Jimmy’s mum, the frustration in her voice obvious, “you don’t need to wait with me.”

  “I saw the light was on and I was worried,” Viggo replied. “That’s all.” His voice was deep, but slightly hoarse.

  “You’ve been making too many speeches,” replied Helen Coates. She shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, and Jimmy could see her head subtly following the movement of the champagne bottle. “You should rest your voice.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s nearly over.” Viggo ran a hand across his stubbled chin and pushed some stray strands of hair behind his ear. “Or it’s just beginning, depending on how you look at it.” There was a glint in his eye, a brown twinkle in the soft lighting. He stood fully upright, a tall man dominating the small space. The lack of any furniture apart from the sofa made him seem even more imposing. His lips were set in a flat smile.

  “You need some sleep,” said Helen, pulling her dressing gown around her against the cool of the air-conditioning. “No point working through the night when you need to look fresh for tomorrow.”

  “You need sleep too,” he said softly. “Is Saffron in bed?” His eyes flicked across the room, sending a shiver through Jimmy, but he was confident he couldn’t be seen.

  Jimmy quickly glanced up the corridor towards the room that Viggo shared with Saffron Walden, his girlfriend. The door was closed, with no light coming through the cracks.

  “What are they saying?” Felix whispered suddenly. “I can’t hear them.”

  Jimmy reluctantly shuffled over slightly to give his friend a view through the door crack. Meanwhile, Georgie was less and less interested.

  “This is stupid,” she whispered. “I’m going to bed. Tell me what happened in the morning.”

  Just as she turned towards her bedroom, Jimmy reached out and caught her arm, then pulled her towards him until his mouth was right by her ear.

  “Thanks for coming after me,” he said softly.

  Ge
orgie simply nodded and threw a smile back up the corridor as she walked away. The voice of Jimmy’s mother pulled him back to the crack in the living-room door.

  “Either get back to work or go to bed,” Helen said to Viggo. “The kids will be here soon.”

  “How do you know?” Viggo was confused. “Where have they been? It’s the small hours of the morning!”

  “Do you care?” Helen snapped, suddenly fixing Viggo with a stare. All Viggo could do was hold up his hands in defence, letting the champagne bottle swing from his fingertips. “I checked with the guards,” Helen went on. “The three of them left a couple of hours ago. There was nobody with them. Now put that bottle down. You look ridiculous.”

  “Celebrate with me,” Viggo said, almost pleading.

  “You haven’t won the election yet.”

  “But I will.” He smiled and every tooth seemed to gleam as brightly as his eyes.

  “So what is there to celebrate tonight?” Helen stood up slowly and stepped towards Viggo. “The fact that we hardly speak to each other any more?”

  “Stop this.” Viggo changed his tone, sounding more gentle than triumphant. He put the bottle on the floor and took Jimmy’s mother by her wrists. “We’re making history. I’m going to change the way this country is run. I know you want the same thing! So all this…” He hesitated and brought Helen’s hands together in his. “…it’s all going to be worth it.”

  Helen Coates turned away and for the first time Jimmy could see the emotion weighing heavy on her face. Her short brown hair cast a net of shadows that seemed to accentuate the worry lines round her eyes.

  “It seems like you’re worth quite a lot,” she whispered. “To somebody.”

  “What do you mean?” Viggo asked, letting her go and stepping back.

  “This building,” Helen explained. “All the staff downstairs. Your whole campaign. How much has it all cost? Even that.” She flicked a hand at the champagne bottle as if she wanted it to topple over. “How did you get hold of real French champagne? That’s almost impossible the way things are. Who’s providing all of this? Where’s the money coming from, Chris?”

  Viggo turned his back on her and stared out of the window.

  “It doesn’t matter how many times you ask me,” he grumbled, “I’m keeping my promise. I’ll tell you – of course I will. But not until I’ve won the election.”

  “Why?” Helen raised her voice. “You’re driving everybody crazy! You have to trust us!”

  “I do trust you.” Viggo’s voice was so low Jimmy could barely make out the words. “But it’s…”

  “What? What is it? Dangerous?” Helen sighed and ran her hands through her hair. “Are you ashamed of it? Money that you’re ashamed of isn’t worth having, Chris.”

  “Even if it means I can make the changes we’ve all hoped for? If I don’t win this election tomorrow, NJ7 will be more powerful than ever. The Government will never let anybody vote again. They’ll lock up or kill anybody that speaks out against them and the whole of Britain will be like one giant prison! Tomorrow is everything, Helen.” He clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes, desperate to get his message across. “We might never have a second chance to bring down this Government peacefully. And if that takes money then I don’t care where the money comes from, I’m going to use it.”

  Jimmy pressed his face closer against the crack in the door. Felix was crouching below him doing the same. In the last few months they’d talked many times about where all the money had come from to fund Viggo’s campaign. Jimmy had even tried to ask Viggo about it, but Viggo always seemed distracted at just the wrong moment. Jimmy and Viggo had hardly had a proper conversation for months. It didn’t sound like his mum was having any more luck.

  “I didn’t come up here to argue,” Viggo said gently. He started towards the door, so Jimmy jumped to one side, dragging Felix with him.

  “We’re finished now, Jimmy,” Helen called out. “You can come in. You too, Felix.”

  Jimmy and Felix looked at each other, the deep shadows not enough to hide the shock on their faces. That moment, Viggo charged out into the corridor. He turned towards the lifts without even glancing at Jimmy and Felix.

  “She’s waiting for you,” he grunted, before disappearing into the lift.

  Jimmy and Felix edged into the living room.

  “How did you…?” Jimmy gasped.

  “Don’t be surprised,” his mother replied. “I was trained by NJ7 once too. And even though you were so quiet out there…”

  Jimmy dropped his head, embarrassed at the obvious sarcasm in his mum’s voice.

  “Sorry, Mum, we…” Jimmy’s voice trailed off.

  “We’ll talk about it in the morning,” said his mum.

  Jimmy felt so stupid, and wished his programming could give him some way of dealing with the situation. His hands automatically went deep into his pockets. So far, his fingers were the most obvious sign of his poisoning, and he’d grown used to hiding them. This time, however, he was more aware of them than usual. His friends had found out his secret and there was a part of him that felt relieved. Was this the moment to explain everything to his mum? He wasn’t sure how he could do it. He wasn’t even sure of the facts himself – at times he felt fine, but at times he was convinced he was getting worse and it terrified him.

  “Everything OK?” It was Saffron Walden. She’d appeared at the door, wrapped in a full-length black dressing gown. Jimmy turned to look at her, amazed that she could seem so poised and so beautiful when she’d obviously just been woken up in the middle of the night.

  “Just Chris being weird again,” said Felix quickly.

  “And these two running off to who-knows-where,” Helen added.

  Saffron nodded slowly.

  “Chris being weird isn’t news to me,” she said softly. Her voice seemed as smooth as her skin, and had some of the same darkness.

  “Do you think we should, erm, keep him under surveillance?” said Felix quickly.

  Jimmy smiled. He was always impressed by Felix’s ability to distract attention from anything that could get him into trouble – and as long as they were talking about Viggo, they couldn’t talk about Jimmy, Felix and Georgie sneaking off together.

  “I know he has a lot on his mind,” Jimmy joined in, “but he’s kept so many secrets from us. He hardly talks to us any more.”

  Saffron and Helen looked at each other, but Jimmy couldn’t read their expressions.

  “It’s the money that worries me,” admitted Saffron. “You might be right, Felix. We might need to keep an eye on him – for his own safety. I don’t know how well we can trust his campaign staff or even his security guards. Everybody was hired in such a hurry.”

  “We’ve come this far without any problems,” said Helen, now eyeing up Jimmy and Felix, as if to tell them she hadn’t forgotten they were in trouble. But so far, Jimmy thought, Felix’s distraction technique was working. They hadn’t been sent straight to bed yet.

  “But with the election so close…” said Saffron softly. “This is when it counts. If he loses—”

  “He won’t lose,” Felix cut in. “How can he? Everybody knows this Government is evil. They tried to go to war with France, and they haven’t let anybody vote about anything until now.”

  “But if he does lose,” Saffron went on, “I doubt many of his so-called supporters will stick by him. And if he wins it could be worse. We’ll find out how many of them have been using him for their own power.”

  There was genuine concern on her face. It was obvious to Jimmy that she still cared deeply about Viggo, despite his erratic behaviour since his campaign had become official. The man had worked against the Government in secret for so long, thought Jimmy. Maybe he just wasn’t used to being allowed to do it in public. Maybe sometimes secrets could protect you.

  Jimmy felt his fingers tingling. He knew it wasn’t his programming, or even the radiation poisoning. It was his mind churning, unsure whether to show his mum.While he
was deep in his thoughts, Saffron said goodnight and went back to bed. Now Jimmy looked at Felix. To Jimmy’s relief, his friend saw the uncertainty on his face and immediately understood what to do.

  “OK, bye then,” said Felix brightly. “I need my beauty sleep, you know.” He tilted his head and patted his hair, as if he was some kind of supermodel, then hurried out of the room. Jimmy couldn’t help smiling, despite the dread in his heart.

  “You too, Jimmy,” said his mum.

  Jimmy didn’t move, but he couldn’t say anything either. It was several seconds before he forced his arm muscles to pull his hands from his pockets.

  “What’s this?” asked his mum, taking his hands and turning them over to examine them.

  “Mum,” choked Jimmy, “I have to explain where I went tonight, and why and…” He paused, staring at the floor, knowing that if he looked at his mother’s face he might not be able to stop himself crying. “…and I have to tell you what’s happening to me.”

  The White House seemed to glow in the late-afternoon sun. The perfectly neat lines of its construction were broken by the flashes of red and blue coming from the dozens of Stars and Stripes flags that flapped wildly. In the centre of it all was Colonel Keays.

  His medals glinted off his navy uniform. He was a stocky man of about sixty, but today, with his chin high and triumph in his eyes, he looked a little younger. The seal of the President of the United States was emblazoned on the lectern in front of him. It may as well have been on the man’s chest.

  “…I am greatly humbled by the honour the people of this great nation have thrust upon me,” he was saying. His words boomed over the public address system. The gathered crowd listened obediently, smiles fixed. The whole occasion was perfectly stage-managed. Even the few thin hairs left on top of Colonel Keays’ head were greased flat so they wouldn’t misbehave.

  “…and I promise to you all that the country will be made even greater by my efforts, within our own boundaries and beyond. For example, while our cousins in the United Kingdom struggle through their own election, I pledge to help them in their first steps towards real democracy, whatever the outcome of their vote.”