by Gary Martin
“They're annoyingly addictive, so I'm probably just gonna give you a joint instead. Unless you want an Emergency Stop? Got a couple in my man bag,” Jacob says.
“No, actually I don't think I will. But I could do with a place to stay for a few days while I work out what to do.”
“Shall we go and see my mother? That's always a good head-clearer.”
We once again head to the cemetery in the dead of night, and all sit down on the rickety bench that Jacob and Terrell made, in complete silence. The Sun is beginning to rise before anyone says anything.
“Is there actually anything you can do to help, John?” Terrell asks. “I mean, anything to keep her out of harm’s way?”
“I can't think of anything at all. Absolutely nothing,” I say.
“Okay, this may seem far-fetched, but hear me out. When would you be due to go out on that ship of yours again?”
“Not sure, I'd guess a little under a week. Why?”
“How about getting your old job back, and smuggling her on board? You'd then at least have three months to figure out a plan or something.”
I'm stunned. Terrell is always the quiet one, he never says much, he's just always there and always on your side. But every now and then, something pops out of his mouth that seems to be the solution to all the problems in the world. And he may well have just solved mine. Possibly, anyway.
“I could fucking kiss you,” I say.
“Not in front of Jacob’s mum you won't.”
“My job may be gone though. Less than a week to go before Sunspot 2 goes out again? They've got to have replaced me by now.”
Jacob looks up and smiles his sly little smile.
“You said that you didn't do anything in your job, and that it was pointless you being there as the crew pretty much manages itself, right?” he says.
“Yeah, what are you getting at?”
“You also said your boss begged you to stay, and he also said he'd hold it open for as long as possible, right?”
“Yes,” I say slowly.
“It's still waiting for you. I guarantee it. He's not even tried to replace you. The ship would function fine without you or a replacement. Did you even tell anyone on your shift that you were leaving?”
“Come to think of it, no.”
“That's harsh, man. But then, if you get your job back tomorrow, they'll never know what a heartless dick you are.”
I smile at that. One small problem does start spinning around in my mind though. If I do get my job back, and make arrangements to somehow smuggle her aboard, what if she doesn't want to go? What if she'd rather stay and face the consequences than escape with me?
“What if she doesn't want to?” I ask. There is a long pause. Finally, Jacob puts his hand on my shoulder.
“Cross that bridge when you come to it, John. Just sort the other shit out first.”
28
I can't sleep. Jacob’s sofa just isn't big enough to sleep on. I'm either dangling my legs off the end, or bending my knees until they ache. Either way I see every hour pass by on the glowing clock on the wall. At about six am Terrell walks in and turns all the lights on. I wasn't expecting it and I cover my eyes. I hear him moving around in the kitchenette for a few minutes and then he moves into the lounge and turns on the holobox. He sits in the armchair and watches the news while he eats his breakfast and drinks his coffee.
“Morning John,” he says, as if this is normal.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, annoyed. “It's six in the morning.”
“Getting ready for work. This is my morning routine.”
I'd been so absorbed in my situation that it hadn't even occurred to me that Jacob and Terrell still have jobs to go to in the daylight hours. But they still come out every night if I ask, and even if I don't.
“Oh shit, sorry,” I say, sitting up but keeping the duvet on me. I stare blankly at the screen for a few minutes, not taking anything in before I decide to get up and make a coffee. I hear Jacob get up. He walks into the lounge in just his boxers.
“Morning fuckers,” he says, stretching. With the amount he drinks and smokes and generally abuses his body, I can't work out for the life of me how he manages to maintain a six-pack.
“Do you want a coffee?” I ask him, already getting a second cup out.
“Why not?” he says, now sitting on the sofa and staring at the box.
“Big day for you today, John. Lots to sort out, lots to do. You'll be living in grovel city,” he says to me, still staring at the box.
“I know. I think Mr. Hooper will be fine, but it's that slimy bastard Simon I have to deal with first. God that guy's a prick. He'll do everything he can to make me squirm.”
Terrell gets up, puts his cup and plate in the reclaimer and looks at me.
“You want a lift to your place to pick up your stupid scoot, or do you want to go straight to the Sunspots loading yard?” I have a quick think.
“Probably mine. I'll just quickly get washed and dressed.”
“Coffee coffee coffee!” Jacob shouts over the back of the sofa at me. I quickly finish making it, pass him the cup and he downs it in one. His throat must be made of the same material as the heat shields on Sunspot 2.
“Cold and fucking awful,” he shouts. Maybe not then. I take a sip of mine, and it's very cold.
“Sorry, I don't know how your machine works. I’ve gotta run,” I say, walking quickly to the bathroom.
Terrell drops me off outside my house and I wonder if I should go in and see if Ez is inside. I look down at what I'm wearing and I know I can't go grovelling to my boss for my job back looking like this. There’s no real choice. I have to go in. I walk up the drive and put my hand on the pad. The door opens and I make my way inside.
“Ez?” I say as I walk through the kitchen into the lounge. Nothing. I go upstairs, looking through the doors of each room. She's not here. Maybe she's gone to stay with friends, or worse, maybe with her parents. That'll complicate things.
I get changed into my best interview suit and head out to Bruce.
“Hello Bruce,” I say to the slightly ridiculous vehicle; its door then opens up and I get in.
“Hello John, where are you headed today?” it asks me in a monotone.
“Sunspots loading yard, please.”
“Would you like me to drive, or would you like to do it manually?”
“I'll drive today, thanks, Bruce.”
Pulling out of the drive, I set off down the road in the direction of the motorway and the yard. I decide to take the upper level as it's got twelve lanes and always seems a little quieter than the five-lane lower level. Bruce maxes out at two hundred kph, but cars are still speeding past me at almost double that. Bruce is perfect for town driving, but it's almost embarrassing how slow he goes on the motorways. There are one or two other vehicles available to buy that are slower, but not by much.
I get to the junction I need and cross the deceleration barriers onto the slipway and down onto the main road that heads to the yard. After a few minutes of country lanes, I see the entrance. I pull up at the gates and Sally comes to the window of the booth.
“Hey John. Bit early, aren't we? Your shuttle don't go up 'til Friday,” he says, and presses something I can't see. The red force field drops and he waves me through. So far, so good. I guess Sally didn't get the memo. I drive to the staff car park and then head to the main office through the loading docks where I used to work. I get the odd wave from one or two of the forklift drivers but that's it. It’s a place I haven't been for a long time, as the shuttle bay is in the opposite direction. I obviously wasn't a very memorable employee.
The office block is ahead of me, a huge four-story glass building beyond the docks. It still looks brand new and completely out of place. Everything around it is old and worn out and in desperate need of replacement. It's easy to see where the money is spent here. I get retina-scanned and the main door opens. I would have thought my records would have been erased by
now and that I'd have to be buzzed in, but no. Straight in. I walk through the short corridor to the reception and lean against the desk.
“Is it possible to see Mr. Hooper?” I ask the overly made-up but still stunningly attractive receptionist. She looks up and her purple irises turn pale blue and spin one eighty degrees. There's a small beep.
“No, he's in a meeting until twelve. Mr. Prelude is in, would you like to see him instead?” she asks and smiles vacantly. Simon. Fuck. I'd hoped to see Mr. Hooper first, but now I'm going to have to crawl through glass to get what I want, and still probably not get it. I sigh.
“Yeah, that's fine I guess. When is he available?” I ask.
Her irises change colour again, this time to yellow with another quiet beep.
“Hello … yes, I've got someone here to see you, yes … yes …” She looks straight at me. Her yellow eyes are unsettling. “Who can I say you are?”
“John Farrow.”
“John Farrow … yes … yes … fine, I’ll let him know.” Beep. She looks at me again and her eyes turn back to purple.
“He says ten minutes. Please take a seat over there.” She gestures towards the bench opposite her desk and I sit down.
I'm sitting there waiting for over an hour. I don't question it; if he wants to play his little power games I'll just let him do it. If he needs to use his authority to try and make me feel small and insignificant, I'll just play along. After about an hour and a half the receptionist looks up.
“He'll see you now,” she says, pointing up the stairs. Standing up from the wooden bench, I stretch out, realise that my arse has got pins and needles, and then awkwardly ascend.
His office door is open when I get to it, but I knock on it anyway as he's looking down at some paperwork. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, but he still looks like a stick insect.
“Come in come in, take a seat,” he says. I do. He looks at me with a half-smile. “What can I do for you, Mister …?” I just stay silent and let it hang in the air. He knows my name. He's just trying to make himself feel important. He doesn't get involved with the little people. I really need to play along, stroke his ego, make him feel like he is all-powerful. But sometimes, someone is just such an enormous prick that you almost can't. Even when there's so much at stake. I take a breath and let my pride go.
“Farrow, John Farrow,” I say finally.
“Ah yes, John. One of Sunspot 2's shift managers. What can I do for you?”
I'm a little bit confused. I'm here to ask for my job back, but so far it seems that no one knows that I've left. When Martin Hooper said that he'd leave my position open, did he just mean that he wouldn't tell anyone and hope I'd return? Maybe Jacob was right. I'm going to have to tread a little bit carefully now and come up with some other reason why I'm here.
“I'm … um … here about the … holiday entitlement …?” I say. It's the first thing that comes to my head.
“What holiday entitlement? You don't get holiday. You get three months out of every six off. Why on earth would you need any more? And besides, that’s for the HR department,” he says, sounding annoyed. I don't have anything else. My mind has gone completely blank. But then I realise I don't have to play his game anymore, and relax.
“Oh Simon, I don't want to talk to you anymore. It's Mr. Hooper I came to see. You're just an awkward little man who gets perverse pleasure out of being a dick. And you really are a dick.” I can't believe that just came out of my mouth. He looks at me wide-eyed and his face starts to turn red. He bangs a button on his personal computer and a disembodied hologram of the receptionist’s head appears above his desk.
“Chantelle, get me Martin now,” he barks at her. He's physically shaking.
“He's in meetings until twelve. I can't do …”
“Get him now! I don't care about his meetings. He'll want to hear what John has just said to me.” He hangs up and looks back at me. “I've been trying to make it happen for the last three years, but finally you've done something that I can actually get you sacked for.”
I smile at him and put my hands behind my head.
“Oh, so you've tried to get me sacked before? I thought you didn't know who I was a few minutes ago,” I say smugly. Too smugly.
“You've done it now. You've bloody done it now, I can't wait to see the look on his face.”
I just continue to smile at him and he seems to be getting redder and redder. Simon then looks up and I hear the door bang open and the boss explodes into the room.
“How many times have I told you to never disturb me in meetings, Simon?!” he booms.
“Sorry sir, but I thought you should hear this straight away,” he says and looks at me. “What did you say to me, John? Or have you gone all shy now Mr. Hooper is here?” He smiles his evil little smile. Martin looks down at me. I stand up and shake his hand.
“Hello John,” he says. “It's really good to see you.”
“And you sir,” I reply. Simon starts to look a little bit flustered.
“No … John tell him what you said to me, or I will.”
Martin looks at him.
“Oh be quiet, Simon. Stop flapping around like a pompous arse.” He looks back at me. “What can I do for you, John?”
“I'm really sorry for messing you around and everything sir, but my circumstances have radically changed, and I was wondering if I could have my old job back?” He looks at me and smiles. Simon looks from me to Martin and back with a look of shock and incomprehension on his face.
“Of course, John, of course. I was hoping this would happen. Talk about cutting it fine though, the shuttle leaves tomorrow night,” he booms with laughter at that for some reason, and bangs me hard on the shoulder. With that, he walks out. I look back at Simon, and can tell he's trying to say something, but he can't find the words. His mouth keeps opening and closing and his left eye is twitching. I just smile, flip him the bird and walk out. My heart is pumping fast when I get back to Bruce. That situation could have gone either way. I was very lucky Mr. Hooper hadn't told anyone and had held out for me or I would have been screwed. And fucking over Simon felt good, even if was stupid and reckless.
I get Bruce to drive and I give Jacob a call.
“All sorted, my job is mine again. Now for phase two of the plan. I've got to find Ez and get her to come with me somehow,” I say.
“She wasn't at your place then?” he asks.
“No, but I'm going back there now. She may have just not been there this morning …” I pause. Suddenly a cold chill comes over me.
“What if Skylark have gotten to her already?”
“No John, it's fine. Just get there as quickly as you can.”
I try her phone but don't get an answer. I'm not sure she'd answer me anyway so that doesn't prove anything. I get back home and have another look around. This time I check the drawers and the wardrobe in our bedroom. Most of her stuff is gone. At least that's good news. Hopefully. I go through the contacts on my phone and call anyone it’s likely she might stay with but no one’s seen her. Or so they claim. This now means I'm going to have to go to her parents and see if she's there. If she is, this isn't going to go well. They hate me, and if she's told them what's going on, they will have paid for a private security company to guard her at all times and they most definitely won't let me see her. I’ve got to try though. And when better than now? So I get back in Bruce and set a course.
29
Ez's parents live in a massive manor house on the outskirts of the city. When you're there it feels like you're in the middle of nowhere, but it's only a ten-minute drive from civilisation. They're pretty fucking rich. Her dad is the president of The New White Star, an intergalactic cruise ship company. Did I mention they hate me? I think I did but it's worth reiterating that fact. I pull up to their gatehouse at around four pm. The Sun is beginning to set and the gate is shut with a guard posted. I get out of Bruce and start to walk over to the guard. His raises his rifle and aims it squarely at my head
. I put up my hands.
“Wait wait wait, I'm just here to see Ez,” I say, hoping to get him to give me some indication as to whether she's here or not. The guard doesn't say a word, but primes his rifle and it starts humming.
“Okay, okay. I'm John Farrow, I'm Ez's partner, I only want to help, but I'll go,” I say and start to head back to Bruce.
“Wait,” the guard says, walking over to an intercom. Another guard takes his place and points his rifle at me. After a minute or so the first guard comes back.
“I'm very sorry, Mister Farrow, but you are not welcome here. Leave, and never come back or you will be shot on sight. This is your only warning,” he says loudly.
I think leaving is definitely the best option for now; I don't really want to piss off anyone who's been ordered to shoot me dead. I get back into Bruce and drive away. I'm sure Ez must be inside, and I've got to see her. Sure, she's protected for now, but if Skylark decided to make a move, the private security firm would be no match for them. Sunspot 2 is the safest option. There's only one other entrance into Ez's parents’ property, and that's through a little-travelled country road. I'd imagine that's guarded as well, so it's probably not worth trying to get in that way either. I'm not sure what the best plan of action is; I know the property fairly well so a night-time raid would probably make the most sense. Get in over the perimeter wall, quietly sneak through the garden and up to the house, hope that Ez sees me before anyone else does. It's highly likely that she'll set off the alarm if she does see me, but I'm counting on the fact that she doesn't want to get me killed. Hopefully she'll listen. So many things can go wrong, but I'm all out of options. I'm going to have to get Jacob and Terrell involved, I can't do this by myself.
I head back home and grab a few things: clothes, a wash kit and a sleeping bag. I don't feel safe here after recent events and drive back to Jacob and Terrell's place. Terrell is sitting where he was this morning, as if he hasn't moved. This time he's eating pizza and drinking a beer instead of cereal and coffee. Jacob is still on the sofa staring at the holobox.
