“Thanks Dongyul, I owe you one.” Mark said with a smile.
“Yes, you do.” Dongyul replied with a grin. “I may need to collect on that one day. Another coffee?”
“No thanks. I’ve got a lot to do and I want to get it done as soon as possible. But… this sounds a bit weird, do you have a container so that I can take a sample away with me? It really is good coffee.”
“That’s not weird at all! If you can get a good pattern for it, can you tell your AI to download it to me please. My civilisations synthesisers aren’t up to making a decent copy.” He stood and poured some of the coffee into an insulated cup, screwed the lid on and handed it to Mark.
Mark stood up and held his hand out. Dongyul stood and shook Mark’s hand. “Thanks for your help Dongyul. I meant it about owing you one, contact me if you need a favour.”
“It was an honour meeting you Mark, and I meant it when I said I may need to collect on that.”
Farewell To IFG
Mark walked to the station and took a taxi to his flat. It cost a lot more than a bus, but money wasn’t a problem now, and in the short time he had been away he had got used to just going where he wanted, when he wanted. He either blinked around Mother, or there was always a lander about to leave wherever he was, going to wherever he wanted to go. The driverless Winchester buses ran to their own rigid timetable though, not his. He asked the driver to wait outside. Handing him a fifty pound note quickly pulled from a bundle in Mark’s rucksack helped to persuade him.
He opened the door with Dongyul’s key and walked in to his flat. It was a lot smaller and scruffier than he remembered. He opened the fridge and recoiled at the smell of spoilt milk. The half pizza he had left in there had grown an impressive coat of green fur, which probably didn’t help the unpleasant fridge aroma. Mark poured the milk, which came out in thick lumps, down the kitchen sink, washing it down with hot water. The pizza went into the bin.
His plan had been to collect his clothes and anything else that he could get into his suitcase, take it to the Chequers and then go into the office and resign. Looking round at the seedy flat in great need of re-plastering, redecoration, rewiring, re-plumbing, new carpets, kitchen, bathroom and furniture, Mark reflected on his life here. He had been desperate to get out of this existence and now he wondered why he hadn’t done something before. This place wasn’t fit for human habitation and his job was demeaning and boring. He thought about changing into his suit before going into the office, but then thought - stuff it, he would go as he was. Then he remembered that his one remaining suit was still at the dry cleaners.
He grabbed a roll of notes from his rucksack and ran down to the taxi. He negotiated a rate with the driver to hire the taxi for the whole day. Mark thought he had been ripped off, but didn’t care about the money. As a sign of good faith he paid the driver half up front.
Back in his flat Mark retrieved his passport and thought about what else he needed. There was nothing else he really needed, and nothing else he wanted either. The only things of real value he owned were his Xbox and it’s collection of games, and a high-resolution TV that it plugged into. He didn’t want them, but he didn’t want to leave them for Mr Perkins, his landlord. Then he remembered Mrs Sayed, who lived in the second terraced house further down the street. He had spoken briefly to her a few times in the local convenience store and knew that she had struggled since her husband, Javed, had been killed when he was hit by a speeding car while crossing the road about eighteen months ago. He was pretty sure that her son Sanjit would appreciate the Xbox and games.
Mark got a bin liner and bundled the Xbox, games and TV into the bag and after a moment's thought, dropped one of the rolls of notes from his rucksack in with them. He paused a moment and then dropped four more rolls of notes into the bag. He carried the awkward shaped bundle down the stairs and along the street to Mrs Sayed’s front door. It was still very early, not quite six o’clock, but he wanted to get finished up here and put his old flat behind him. He rang the door bell and waited. After a few minutes, he rang it again.
A couple of minutes later he heard Mrs Sayed’s voice coming through the door. “Who is it?” She asked.
“It’s me, Mark, from the flats down the street.”
He heard the chain being drawn back and Mr’s Sayed opened the door just far enough to look out at him. “What’s wrong? Do you need something?” She asked.
“I’m really sorry to call so early Mrs Sayed. I’m moving out today, and when I was getting my things together I realised that I didn’t need these anymore, and I wondered if Sanjit would like them. It’s my Xbox and TV.” He held open the bin liner for her to see.
The door opened wider and Mark saw Mrs. Sayed in a dressing gown and slippers, with untidy hair. “That is so kind of you Mark, but I’m not sure I can afford them.”
“No, I don’t want to sell them to you, it’s a gift.” He was beginning to feel embarrassed about it now and could feel his face reddening. He held the bag towards her. “There’s a little something in there for you too, something I don’t need any more.”
“Oh thank you Mark. That’s so thoughtful of you.” She gave him a tired smile. “Are you going far?”
“Yes.” He replied. “Very far. Anyway, I mustn’t keep you. Goodbye Mrs Sayed.”
As he turned and walked away, she called after him. “Thank you again Mark, have a safe journey.”
When Mark got back into his flat, he looked around one last time. No, there was nothing he wanted. He paused to pack the wallet Dongyul gave him with cash and the debit card. Then he straightened out a roll of notes and slipped it into a breast pocket in his jumpsuit. He checked to make sure he had the smart metal key and shut the door behind him.
He got into the taxi and asked the driver where he could get a good breakfast at this time of the morning. He drove Mark to the city centre and directed him to Cafe Winchester in St Thomas street before dropping him off. Mark took the drivers card and told him he would call him in two or three hours.
As the taxi drove away, Mark said “Shit. I forgot, I haven’t got my mobile now.”
He heard his AI’s voice speaking to him. “That’s not a problem Mark. It is simple enough for me to get into the mobile phone network. Let me know when you are ready and I’ll set up the call.”
Mark had a relaxing breakfast and killed a pleasant hour and a half. He took a leisurely walk to the office, arriving ten minutes early. The walk to his desk felt uncomfortable, it was the first time he had ever done it while not wearing a suit. He logged in to check his email, eventually deleting all of it. There wasn’t a single email of any relevance to him. He sighed and leant back in his chair. How had he put up with this for so long? Out of curiosity he went down to the archive, getting a lot of curious stares as he walked through the office. The ‘Beware Of The Leopard’ sign on the door had come unstuck on one corner and hung loosely down. Mark carefully reattached it and went into the archive. As far as he could remember, every part sorted a pile of paper that he had left that Friday when Alan whisked him away was still there, untouched. Shaking his head, Mark walked out, pushing the door shut behind him. He slowly walked back up the stairs and back to his desk. Before he sat down, his team leader, Terry Mason called him to his cubicle. Mark walked in and sat down.
“Where have you been for the last two weeks?” Terry asked.
“You noticed I wasn’t here?”
“Yes, of course I did.”
“You didn’t notice that I have been away for four weeks?”
“Really? Well, where were you then?”
“Personal business. Sorry, it was all a bit sudden.”
“I can’t help noticing, but you aren’t wearing a suit.”
“I’m more comfortable in this.”
“Well, now you’re back, I’d like an update on progress and an anticipated finish date for sorting the archive documents.”
“I’ve been thinking about that while I was away.”
“Good.
” Terry said. “At least your mind was still one the job, even if you weren’t here.”
“No, not good. That job is well below my capabilities. It is demeaning to give it to an experienced and skilled IT specialist. What were you thinking giving me that job? Sod Anthony James’s empire building. If he’s so bloody keen to keep it in the department, he can do it. If you won’t tell him, I will!”
Terry sat back in his chair. Who was this in his office? He looked like Mark. But this wasn’t the Mark that he knew. “Er, well, perhaps I can put you onto another project. Did you have anything in mind?” He asked, a little nervously.
“No. I have had time to review my career here. I relied on you to look after my career development and all I have had is the crap jobs and years of minimum pay reviews despite good performance reviews. I’ve seen what else is available to me out there and I’m going to pursue that. I resign, with immediate effect. I’m not going to work a notice period, there is nothing to hand over. You let me down Terry. Do me a favour and look after the rest of your staff with a bit more consideration.”
“But Mark, there are lots of opportunities here. If you go somewhere else, you won’t get access to the kind of technology that we are planning to implement.”
Mark laughed and stood up. “You are certainly right about that. Look Terry, you might be a crap manager, but you’re a nice guy. I don’t want to part on bad terms. I’m going away now and I’m not planning to come back. Tell HR to hold anything for me here and I’ll collect it later.” He held out his hand, Terry stood up and shook it.
“Good luck in the future Terry.”
“You too Mark. If you change your mind or it doesn’t work out, I’ll always find a role here for you.”
Mark smiled and left. As he walked out, he told his AI to call the taxi driver and tell him to meet Mark at the entrance to the IFG office.
Mark sat on the steps of the office as he waited for the taxi to arrive, enjoying the early summer sun.
“Are you planning to buy sample foods to take back to your ship Mark?” His AI asked.
“No, I just want to get away from any reminder of my old life. All the time I’m here it reminds me of the person I was before, and I don’t want to be that person anymore. I’ve got two more things to do, then I want to get to my ship.”
The taxi pulled up and Mark jumped in. “Take me to the Chequers please.”
Instructing the taxi to wait, Mark banged on the door to the chequers. A few minutes later, Roger the barman opened the door, looking a bit tousled.
“Sorry, did I get you out of bed?” Mark asked.
“That’s OK. I was going to get up some time. Can I help you?” Roger said sleepily.
“Have you heard from Sally?”
“No. Should I have done?”
“Yes, Well, if you get a note from her to let me use her flat, I don’t need it now.”
“You woke me up to tell me to ignore the note that I haven’t got yet? Aren’t you the guy that Sally brought in just before they all left?”
“Yes, I’m Mark. You remember me?”
“Yeah. You drank for too much Skull Splitter and Sally left with Simon carrying you over his shoulder. You probably don’t remember that bit.” He yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Hey, you’re wearing that black kit that they all wear. Have you joined them?”
“Yes, sort of.”
Roger opened the door wider and stepped back. “You’d better come in then. Would you like a coffee?”
“I’d prefer tea. With milk please.”
Roger shut and locked the door behind Mark. “Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be back in a minute.”
Mark walked the around the bar, looking at the pictures and antique farming implements fixed to the walls. When Roger came back a few minutes later carrying two mugs, Mark took a seat at a table close to the bar. Roger sat down and passed a mug of tea to Mark.
“So what can I do for you Mark.”
“This might sound a bit strange, but can I Have a pint of Skull Splitter to take away?”
Roger smiled. “That might seem strange anywhere else, but I get asked that a lot here. I’ve got some pint bottles with screw down tops specially for that. Anything else?”
“Er, would it be possible to take some tea bags and milk?”
“You sound like one of the tourists.” Roger said. “They usually ask for a whole basket of stuff to take away - crisps, peanuts, bar food, all sorts of stuff. Do you want all that?”
“Well, if it’s not too much trouble. I’ll pay for it of course.”
“No problem. Sally seemed to like you, I’ll put it on her tab.”
“She runs a tab?” Mark asked.
Roger laughed. “Not really. She just gives me a fist full of cash now and then and tells me to take what she owes the bar out of it and to keep the rest.”
“OK.” Mark said, with a grin. “I’ll do the same.”
Ten minutes later Roger returned with a large canvas bag with ‘The Chequers, Winchester.’ Printed on it in large letters. “Here you go. Do you know when Sally is coming back?”
“She may not be back soon.” Mark told him.
“Kate, is there any way that Roger can contact Sally using People’s communications?” Mark asked his AI.
“Give him your mobile phone number and tell him to message you. I’ll route it through the local subspace node and I’ll receive it.”
Mark asked for a piece of paper and wrote his mobile number on it. He gave it to Roger saying “I’ll be meeting up with Sally again soon. The phone signal is really poor there but messages will get through. If you need Sally, message me and I’ll let her know. I’ve got to go now. Thanks for the tea.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a roll of notes. He handed it to Roger. “This is for the stuff in the bag. Take what I owe the bar out of it and keep the rest.”
Roger took the roll without looking at it a put it into his pocket. “You didn’t need to pay for it, but thanks.”
“I’ve got to go now, I’m sure I’ll be back sometime with Sally.” Mark got up from the table and walked to the door. “Thanks again for the tea.” He said as he left.
Landlord And Tenants Act
Mark got into the taxi and gave the driver the address for the office of Mr Perkins, his landlord. When they arrived he, asked the driver to wait for him. He entered the building and climbed a flight of stairs to Mr Perkins office. He walked straight into and found Mr Perkins sitting back in his chair, with his feet on the desk, reading a tabloid newspaper. Mr Perkins was a thin, oily looking man with a distinct pot belly bulging over the waistband of his trousers. He was wearing a brown suit with a cream coloured shirt that looked like it should have been changed yesterday.
He glanced up at Mark and said “What do you want?”
“I’m Mark Brennan. One of your tenants.”
“I’ve got a lot of tenants.” Mr Perkins said, showing more interest in the newspaper than in Mark. “Give me a clue.”
“I’m one of the ones renting a shithole of a flat and paying you far too much rent. But that probably doesn’t narrow it down much.”
“Gerry!” Called out Mr Perkins. A large, heavily muscled man with a shaven head came in from a back office. “We’ve got a smart arse here. Throw him out will you.” He then gave his full attention to the newspaper.
“Come on sunshine. Out you go.” The large heavily muscled man called Gerry said.
“If you’d just like to take a seat a moment.” Mark asked Gerry. “I need to conclude some business with Mr Perkins.”
Gerry laughed. “Cocky little bugger aren’t you. Get out!”
Mark sighed. “Look, there’s no need for any unpleasantness or for anyone to get hurt. Just sit down please, I’ll finish with Mr Perkins and leave, and then you can get back to whatever you were doing.”
“Right!” Exclaimed Gerry and reached out to grab him. Mark’s training with Mike kicked in and without him even thinking about it, stepped back and to his left,
and as Gerry moved forward Mark caught him off balance and gave him a shove in the back. Gerry stumbled into a row of filing cabinets. He turned round looking very angry.
“Gerry, you’re outclassed. Just sit this out. I won’t be long with Mr Perkins.” Mark told him in a conciliatory voice. By now, Mr Perkins had put his paper down and was watching with a smile on his face.
Gerry responded angrily. “Outclassed by a fucking ballerina! You’ll be sorry you did that.”
Mark sighed again. Gerry launched himself at Mark, swinging his fist at Mark's face. Mark had trained for just this kind of attack although Mike had always assumed that his assailant would be armed with a blade of some description. He ducked underneath and came up again with the heel of his right hand slamming into Gerry’s jaw, snapping his head backwards. As his momentum carried him forward, Mark stepped around him and grabbed Gerry’s left arm. Leaning back, Mark swung Gerry round and drove his fist into his solar plexus. Gerry dropped to the floor gasping for breath.
Mark turned his attention back to Mr Perkins, whose smile had disappeared and was now looking rather worried.
“Now, Mr Perkins, would you ask Gerry to stand down please, I don’t want to have to break him.” He heard Gerry coughing as he lay on the floor and turned around to face him.
Gerry looked up, still wheezing, and grinned. “So you’re not a ballerina.”
Mark smiled. “No.” And offered his hand to pull Gerry to his feet, ready for his next attack. Gerry Grasped his hand and pulled himself up.
“I’ll just sit this one out Mr Perkins.” Gerry said and slapped Mark on the back before sitting on a chair at the side of the office, next to the door.
Mr Perkins was looking nervous as Mark turned to face him again. “You are an idiot Mr Perkins. I was going to pay you thirty days notice on my flat and tell you to keep the deposit to pay for clearing it. Now, to compensate for the inconvenience that you just caused me and Gerry, you can keep the deposit, but I’m not giving notice now. OK?”
Unwilling From Earth Page 49
