by S. K. Holder
The professor returned without his water. Ted stiffened. So what had he been doing?
The professor sunk into the upholstered armchair and crossed his legs, giving a peep of his diamond-patterned silk socks. ‘You said someone’s been murdered.’
Ted perked up, pleased the professor had finally grasped what he was saying. ‘Kane and possibly Luke. Did you call the police?’
The professor poured himself a cup of tea. ‘I just got off the phone with them. They’re on their way to Tridan Entertainment as we speak.’
That was a relief. Ted reached for a scone. He smothered it with butter and jam. The burden had been passed on to someone more culpable. Thank mercy.
The professor kept his eyes on Ted as he sipped his tea. ‘The police will want to talk to you. Why don’t you explain what happened to me? Then you’ll have it clear in your head when you give your statement to the police.’
The professor gave him a rich smile. Ted remembered the professor’s smile from his first day on the job – all those years ago. He scolded himself for doubting him. You couldn’t fake a smile like that.
Ted didn’t know where to start. He made up his mind straight off not to mention the whole alien saga. If he started talking about aliens, it would be a fast track to the nut house for him. He told the story backwards, keen to get the most horrific details out of the way first. He made sure he skimmed over his own misdemeanours. He wished he had a pen and paper to write it all down. The police would question the professor to corroborate his story. He paused between mouthfuls of scone, to seal up any potholes in which he could be implicated. Once he had finished, he was able to get a steady hand on the china tea cup. He poured himself a cup of coffee to wash down his scone.
His story was pretty tight. He had embellished a little and made sure he painted Steve to be the monster he truly was. He described Luke as an out of control teenage lout who beat him up when his back was turned. He informed the professor that Connor and Luke had been skulking around the building, and that Connor had locked himself in the capsule so he could play the game on one of the laptops he had ‘stolen’. He also told him about how he had attempted to save Luke’s life. He wanted to come out of this as a bit of a hero. It would make a change. The only person whose reputation he didn’t taint was Kane Brailey. If it wasn’t for Kane, he may never have made it off the seventh floor.
The professor appeared unfazed by Ted’s account. ‘How long have you worked for Tridan Entertainment?’ he asked.
‘Bout five years.’ The professor clearly didn’t remember they had met informally on Ted’s first day.
‘Did you notice anything strange back then?’
Ted shook his head and took a swig of his coffee. ‘Nothing strange, but when Steve Lepton started at Tridan things began to change.’
‘He became your boss shortly after you started didn’t he?’
‘Yeah, not long after.’ Ted nodded as he thought about how irritated he was to have a new boss. The old one, pretty much let the team do as they pleased and he hadn’t been happy to have to mind his ‘p’s’ and ‘q’s’ with a new manager. He thought the best thing to do was get him on side. Life was always easier if you got on the boss’s good side. He had been more than willing to be the top brown-noser. He was at Steve Lepton’s beck and call, practically day and night, running himself ragged just to please him.
‘And your work schedule must have changed somewhat?’
‘It did,’ agreed Ted. ‘I worked some hellish hours.’
‘I expect you see code in your sleep most nights. What little sleep you get. And you must get some blinding headaches and sore fingers at the end of the day. Puts a strain on you doesn’t it? Pushes you to the limit.’
‘It does.’ Fresh tears came to Ted’s eyes. He was dog-tired and his problems had quadrupled since joining Tridan Entertainment. ‘It’s be-been difficult. And I’ve had no one to talk to. I’ve no family here. No one understands my commitment to the games−’
‘I understand your commitment to the games, Ted. I’ve been committed to the games my whole life. Tell me truthfully, have you ever taken anything to help with the stress of it all?’ His eyes flickered to the crystal decanter on the cabinet, and then back to Ted. ‘Perhaps a drink or some pills?’
‘No, I’ve never taken anything. I know what you’re suggesting.’ He was clear-headed enough to get the gist of where Professor Hatleman was going. He didn’t mind. The police would ask the same sort of questions. He needed to get as much practice as possible. ‘I’m not hallucinating.’ He knocked back the last of his coffee and set down his cup. He gazed at the vintage telephone on the table and back at the professor. The professor didn’t have to leave the room to call the police.
The professor put down his cup. ‘We can’t have those sorts of scandals surrounding a multi-million-pound company like Tridan Entertainment without getting our facts straight. I called their office. Steve has been out of the office all day. And Kane went to a meeting. Luke and Connor are at home with their mother.’
Ted shook his head. He knew a cover up when he heard one. The professor had said he was ‘on his side’ when he picked him up outside Tridan Entertainment. As if there were sides to be had. Aliens and Alliances. What a coincidence that he should show up at that exact moment? ‘I saw Kane’s body lying by the vault on the seventh floor. I watched him die.’
‘There is no vault on the seventh floor.’
Ted’s face grew pale. It was the professor’s key card that got him on to the seventh floor, the professor’s thumbprint that gave him access to Vega and the Teleportation Capsule. ‘The vault belongs to you. You’re one of them. You’re an alien. That’s why you haven’t been around.’ It was all coming together in Ted’s mind. Anyone with a key card to all twenty-five Tridan Entertainment’s floors were aliens. Only aliens could use the laptops to travel home and the professor had used one to return to his home planet.
The professor gave a light-hearted laugh. ‘Where ever did you get that idea? I’m not an alien, Ted. If you want, we can go back to Tridan Entertainment now and I’ll prove to you that everything is fine.’
‘Go back there, are you crazy?’ The professor was certainly beginning to look like an alien. His head looked as if it had stretched and he looked as if he had three eyes instead of two.
Professor Hatleman sighed and walked over to the drinks cabinet. He poured a glass of dark liquid from the crystal canter. He handed Ted the glass.
Ted took it. He gripped the glass so hard he thought it would break. He had no intention of sipping a drop. He already felt queasy and ‘out of it’. He was beginning to like the professor less and less. He thought the drink could be poisoned. He didn’t want his mind clouded any more than it was already.
‘I haven’t gone anywhere though have I, Ted?’ said the professor. He sat back in his chair. ‘I’m still here.’
So it was just Beth Crosswell and Howard Collins who had vanished. He broke out in a cold sweat. He supposed he could have asked the professor to go back to Tridan Entertainment to verify the murders. But he didn’t want to go back in case Steve was still lurking about. He reminded himself he wasn’t alone. There was a child upstairs and a housekeeper. Witnesses if anything should happen to him.
‘Tell me, Ted, how did you get onto the seventh floor and access Vega?’
‘I found your key card in one of the offices. I was holding on to it for you – for when you next came in.’ He felt in his pocket for the key card. He was about to return it to the professor when he remembered the silicone tape wound around it containing the professor’s thumbprint. ‘I’m sorry. I seem to have lost it.’
‘I’ll tell you what I’m going to do Ted. I’m going to make all of this go away.’
‘Huh?’ Ted dropped his glass, spilling the liquid all over himself. The glass landed on the sofa, ruining it with a dark stain. He leaned in for a napkin to mop up the mess. The room appeared to tip on its side and the professor’s voice became m
uffled and faraway.
‘I’m going to make you forget this ever happened, Ted. When you wake up, it’ll be your very first day at Tridan Entertainment and you’ll be working for me…’
The housekeeper barged into the room and picked up the tray. She tutted at the mess he’d made. She made no attempt to clear it up.
Ted closed his eyes, dog-tired as he was. He deliberated over the professor’s words that he could ‘make all of this go away’. He sure wished it would.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Connor landed on a stool in the basement of Tridan Entertainment, his face frozen in terror. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. The same t-shirt and jeans he had changed into before visiting Tridan Entertainment a second time to ask Ted why he had taken Luke’s laptop. His weariness had lifted. He clenched his right hand. He didn’t need to look at it to confirm his Status Mark was no longer there. The ebb and flow of genetic blood had been cast away as if it had never existed.
This was something he hadn’t counted on or thought about until now. When he had gone to Narrigh he had been using the laptop in Luke’s bedroom. This time he had accessed it from inside the cubicle, which is where he now sat. The laptop and his school bag were gone. The door of the cubicle stood open. He crept out, careful not to make any noise.
The basement smelt of stale sweat. He wondered if Ted was still prowling around.
A squeak on the floor tiles made him turn.
He locked eyes with Luke. His brother had placed his weight on one leg. The other was drenched in blood. Luke had his rucksack strapped across his shoulder − that too was blood-stained. Luke put his finger to his lips.
Connor rushed to help him. He swung his arm across Luke’s back. Luke gripped his waist.
Heavy footsteps came from the side of the basement where the secret lift was located. Connor searched for somewhere to hide. He started towards the basement doors leading on to the street. He used what energy he had to drag his brother along.
Luke’s leg trailed behind him leaving a streak of blood. He tightened his jaw, fighting against the pain. He let out a gasp as Connor increased his pace.
Connor gritted his teeth with the effort of bearing his brother’s weight. The basement doors quaked as they approached them.
Someone was behind the door, blocking their path.
He lurched forward, driving himself and Luke down the corridor. Luke broke into a hop, alleviating some of the weight his brother bore. They entered the cafeteria.
Connor shut the doors after them. They went into the open kitchen and crouched behind the stainless steel counter top.
Connor thought of Beth Crosswell as he watched the blood seep through his jeans. Beth’s leg wound had killed her and she hadn’t lost half as much blood as Luke had. He seized a roll of kitchen towel and wrapped it around Luke’s leg.
Luke heaved Connor’s rucksack from his shoulder and nudged it towards him with his bloodied hand. His breathing had become a rasp. His chest shuddered as it rose and fell. His eyes started to roll back.
Connor wrenched open the rucksack. This wasn’t the first time he had faced danger; he had to keep it together for both their sakes. He rooted through it but couldn’t see anything that would help save his brother’s life. His bag held a few of his school books, a pencil case, his jacket, The Plague of Pyridian gaming guide and a bunch of strange objects that he had never set eyes on before. Save one. He pulled out the barrel-shaped metal object. It was a bolt-shot whip like the ones he had seen in Narrigh.
There was a first aid kit attached to the wall. He pulled it down and tore it open. Inside he found rolls of flimsy bandages, safety pins, wipes and plasters.
‘They’re coming,’ Luke whispered.
Connor pushed the first aid box aside. He grabbed more kitchen towels to bind Luke’s leg.
The lights went out and the canteen doors burst open. Connor caught his breath.
‘I know you’re in here, Luke,’ said a voice. ‘Why don’t you come out so we can talk?’
The footsteps stopped close to the door.
A beam of light passed over them and then it was gone.
Connor felt for his brother with his hands. He had slumped against the wall. He heard his shallow breathing.
The bolt-shot whip was all he had. He fingered the barrel and felt for the button that would bring it to life. He heard footsteps again. The lights came on. Connor rose. The counter top hid him from the waist down. He grasped the bolt-shot whip in his hand, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
There were two of them. A sweaty security guard pointed a gun at him. He had damp patches on his tan shirt. His eyes were blood-shot. He bit his lip as if fighting his own fury. Connor suspected the security guard was the one who had shot Luke. He recognised Steve Lepton from Ted’s description: a blonde-haired blue-eyed mop.
Steve lowered his arm over the security guard’s own, forcing him to lower his weapon.
‘I wasn’t expecting to see you,’ said Steve. ‘I thought you were in Pyridian.’ He glanced at the security guard. ‘Go back out there, Alec. See if there’s anyone else.’
‘What did you want to talk to Luke about?’ said Connor. He was relieved the security guard had left them alone. Now he held the only weapon between them.
‘I’m surprised to see you here, Connor,’ said Steve. Smirking, he placed his hands in his pockets.
Luke’s foot nudged his ankle. His brother was trying to warn him about something he had already worked out for himself. He squeezed the bolt-shot whip in his hand. Issturo had warned him that you couldn’t put your trust in Citizens. Perhaps there was truth in what he said, but it wasn’t a Citizen standing before him. The doodle of the maze he had seen on the inside cover of The Plague of Pyridian wasn’t some casual sketch. It was an aerial view of Hiburild. Most likely drawn by Steve Lepton. He was an alien like himself. That much Connor knew. He didn’t know his real name or how or when he had arrived on Earth. It didn’t matter.
Steve’s smirk became a snarl.
‘I changed the fortunes of Tridan Entertainment. Made it what it is today. I should have been running this company, not your uncle or any other Brailey deemed to take his place.’
‘Where is my uncle?’ asked Connor, his voice hoarse with fear.
‘I killed him.’ Steve cocked his head to one side, his eyes gleamed. ‘I made an agreement to deliver Luke into the hands of his father’s adversaries. They were there in Narrigh waiting, but for some reason the teleportation failed. I took a risk with Pyridian. Luke was supposed to go there and you went in his place. They won’t tolerate a second fail. You’re not as important to them as Luke and neither one of you is important to me. Shouldn’t you be calling an ambulance?’
Connor felt about in his jean pockets for his phone. His hands shook. It took all his willpower not to break down in tears. He hadn’t checked all the compartments in his bag or Luke’s pockets: either his or Luke’s phone had to be in one of them.
He had to do something before the security guard came back with his gun. He glanced down at the bolt-shot whip. Luke’s blood had formed a pool around his feet. Tears gathered in his eyes. What he wouldn’t have given for them to be Citizens again. He hit the button on the whip and raised his hand high. The lashes sprung, squirming into life. They hovered at a horizontal angle above the countertop as if they knew his target.
Connor moved from behind the counter top.
Steve Lepton’s flinched at the sight of the weapon.
The security guard approached the doors. He had his gun raised in his hand. When he caught sight of the sizzling white tentacles snatching at the air, he turned and fled.
Steve raised his hands. ‘I can call an ambulance if you like.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘There’s a phone in the corridor.’
‘It’s not connected. Give me the phone in your pocket.’ Connor had spotted the oblong outline of a phone in Steve’s breast pocket when he had walked in. It was the only way he could have kept in con
tact with the security guard.
Steve reached inside his pocket and pulled out his phone. He threw the phone at Connor’s feet, hard enough to break it. He carefully lowered the bolt-shot whip and stooped to pick it up.
Steve ran from the cafeteria door. He used a set of keys to lock the doors after him.
Connor hit the button on the whip and the lashes disappeared. He picked up the phone. Steve had broken it when had thrown it or it was already broken. The back cover came away in his hand. The battery fell to the floor.
He returned to Luke.
Luke’s breathing was shallow and his eyes were half-closed He tried to speak, but all he could manage were a few short croaks.
He had a feeling Steve would soon return with a weapon of his own. He noticed the fire alarm on the wall by the doorway. He used one end of the bolt-shot whip to smash the glass. It would stall Steve’s plans for a while. With any luck the emergency services would come out and there would be a commotion as people filed from the building.
‘Go,’ said Luke in a husky voice. ‘Be careful.’
