Sequela (51 page)

Kester stood and walked to the front window of his office. This was enough vertigo for him, he decided. A happy medium. The odd visit to Alexis' office to make him dizzy would suffice. And he could always look down on the people in the square from here if he chose to. He watched them for a moment and imagined that each one was leaving a different-coloured trail across the square, together creating a giant tangled Beck map charting their encounters and decisions.

One of them might be Dee. He wasn't sure what he thought about that, knowing that she was headed for the building. Would she try something else? He stopped himself. Alexis was in control. It was her call, her plan, nothing to do with him any more. And if it made her happy it was worth it. He made a mental note to shower and get his apartment fixed up before the interview was finished. Though it might be nice if she called him up to her office so they could relive his own interview. He wondered if she would. It was a sort of anniversary for them.

Kester's Book rang. It was his mother.

'Mum, how are you?'

'Kester – my Kester. I can't believe it's really happening. You're really doing it.'

'I know, Mum. I told you I would, didn't I?'

'You did. You did.'

'Did you offload the rest of those panties OK?'

'Don't you worry about that, darling.' His mother shrieked with laughter.

'You alright, Mum?'

'Oh yes, yes, just the dog has just come through with a pair round his neck. He's been sticking his head in my bag again. Oh sweetie…' She descended into a stream of baby-doggy talk.

Kester tuned out and started to scroll through the live data on the display next to his design board. It was satisfying to watch. He could see things progressing before his eyes. It wouldn't be long now until he saw his dream come to fruition, until every member of staff in the building offered themselves up to his needle – he smirked – became a vessel for his creation, came under his protection. Then it would go live to the City, to London, to the other cities and then…a small sadness sloshed in his stomach, the dregs of something that had once tasted fine. He recalled his and Dee's plans, and his drunken promise on the bar at
Brass
that his screen would be free for everyone. Well…maybe…

As he looked out over the lab a piece of equipment unfolded from the ceiling on a multi-elbowed arm. It paused for a moment, seeming to look at him before continuing down to the station that had requested it.

This was a corrupt business. It would only take one member of staff to decide the screen technology should be open source for whatever reason – one person struck by a moral revelation, one person having a noble five minutes. Halfway across the lab the lift doors opened, admitting Gerald's smile. Behind it followed Gerald and a group of models back for the next round of testing: Cherry, Hera and a few he didn't
recognise
. Cherry looked over and gave him a shy smile. After a minute or two Kester became aware that his mother's tone had changed again.

'Kester? Are you listening, Kester? I said I've booked my tickets to come and see you. Now you're sure you and Alexis don't mind having me for a whole weekend?'

'No, Mum, it's fine – really.'

'It's going to be so lovely to finally meet her. Has Dee met her yet?'

'Em, not quite.'

-o-

Dee entered the interview room. It was on the top floor of the building and as she walked forwards to meet the panel, she could see the whole of London falling away from them in a steep tilting bowl. They were at the top edge, the highest point. She might trip and be sent flying over the edge, skittering down into the centre of the city. It was impressive – she struggled with the feeling. No, it was good to be impressed. She should let herself be taken over, taken in. She needed to seem convinced to be convincing.

Dee recognised the woman in the middle of the panel as Alexis Farrell. Farrell was dressed in a grey all-in-one suit. It was tasteful, sexy, businesslike – a look that bothered Dee. She would never be able to dress that way. She was suddenly very self-conscious about the simple trouser-suit she was wearing.

'Take a seat,' Farrell said.  

Dee looked in front of the desk. There was no chair there. She glanced side to side and then back towards the door. Finally she spotted a chair in the far corner of the room, marking the intersection of the two glass walls. She walked over to it, picked it up, brought it back and placed it down in front of the desk. Cheap trick. She had heard about this sort of stupid stunt. It was supposed to unnerve you.

Dee positioned her seat carefully to avoid the wedge of sunlight that was cutting through the room. She seated herself at a leisurely pace and then looked one by one at the panel members, who were all fiddling with their Books. On either side of Farrell there was a man, one tall and thin, one extremely large.

'Delilah,' Alexis Farrell began.

'Please, call me Doctor Campbell,' Dee said. She wasn't here to be
patronised
.

The thin man laughed and licked his lips.

'I'm sure you remember me –' Farrell began.

'No.' Dee cut her off, then checked herself. She needed to look like she wanted the job. She wanted to be offered the job. It would be good to be able to turn it down. Yes, to turn it down was the thing. 'Perhaps,' she said, 'with Kester.'

'Doctor Lowe's leaving drinks from his Institute job, I believe. A fancy-dress affair.'

'I say.' The thin man spoke again.

'Delilah, let me introduce you to Byron Gaunt, Pharmaceuticals, and Roger Yule, Marketing.' Alexis extended a hand simultaneously to either side, neglecting to indicate who was who.

'Nice to meet you, gentlemen.' Dee smiled. She could feel how unconvincing her smile was. It was uncomfortable across her face, a tight piece of elastic.

'The pleasure is all ours,' the fat man said, mopping his brow. He seemed kindly.

'It'll be all mine, I think you'll find, Roger,' the other man said, inadvertently helping her out.

The fat one was Yule; the thin one was Gaunt. Gaunt stood up from his chair and walked over to her. He was a decrepit pillar of charming sleaze, the sort of which Dee had frequently encountered in the academic world.

'And an exquisite pleasure it will be,' Gaunt added.

He took up her hand and kissed it. She tried not to pull away. No funny business, Kester had promised her. Dee could feel her
colour
rising. She hadn't spoken to Kester since he came to see her. Couldn't get a hold of him. She had wanted to talk to him about the interview. Had half hoped he might persuade her that working with him was a good idea, that he might say something to make everything that had happened go away. But then there was Farrell. He wouldn't be able to make her go away.

'Gaunt, you're making the poor girl blush.' Farrell's voice was acid. 'Let's get down to business. Tell me about your experience with regards to this role – we'll get on to your sexual experience later on.'

Dee tried to hide her shock and began to talk through her academic career and her areas of special knowledge.

Once Dee was talking she found it didn't matter that she was here, at V. She was in her element. The panel watched her carefully, nodded and listened patiently for a long stretch until –

'That's all very interesting,' Farrell said, with a wave of her hand, 'but I'd like to go back to this first point.'

Dee felt heavy, as if someone had cut the string on her balloon. She talked over the first point again, a comment she had made about her PhD thesis, not really relevant at all. Farrell moved onto another point and then went back again to the first. Then she picked up some more points and revisited them repeatedly. Why had Dee taken a travelling year? Why had she not travelled for longer? What had she learned? Why had she not got a first in every subject – was it lack of talent or laziness?

As they talked, the wedge of sunlight Dee had so carefully avoided moved towards her and broadened, sliding up her shins into her lap. Farrell started to delve into Dee's knowledge about the company – could she give them a potted history of V? What did she know about their other products? Who did she think would be the biggest competitors for the new product?

'I'm sorry,' Dee said, eventually, after struggling through an hour of half-guessed answers. 'This is all way out of my area of expertise. I'm just interested in the immunology angle on the screens project. Kester must have briefed you.'

'Oh, Kester briefed us.' Farrell's tone was strange. Dee was unsure what she meant. 'He said you were an ambitious girl. Fiercely ambitious, I think were his words. Is that true?'

'I suppose –'

'Said that working on this project with him was your dream. Is that true?'

'Yes…' Dee faltered.

That was true. That had been true. Was it still? The thought that she might not even get through at interview, that they might appoint someone else to work by Kester's side and finish what they had started together was beginning to make her feel sick. She looked down into her lap. Her hands were clasped there. She shifted them forward a little and then back again to hide the sweaty patches they had left.

'You know there may be more in this for you than working on the team, if you want it,' Farrell said. 'We're impressed. You don't think we go into this much depth with every candidate?'

The sudden change of tone took Dee by surprise. She was light again, had ten balloons in her hand. What were they going to offer her? She wanted it, she realised suddenly. She really wanted it. Did Farrell matter? Could it all just disappear? Only she herself knew what had happened and it had obviously been dealt with. She had seen all the fuss on the web about the bomb threats and about the 'precautionary measures' V were doling out to their clients. It was all in a day's work for them. To everyone else it would look like she and Kester had had a tiff, she'd gone off the deep end and was back. It would be more suspicious if she didn't…

'You'd still be involved in the screen work of course, but blue skies immunology research is where we're really –'

'I'm sorry?' Dee lifted one hand to shade her eyes from the encroaching sunlight.

'Blue skies research. Immunology is a key aspect in everything we do – designer viruses, the screens, pharma – and with the competition the way it is we need to be at the forefront of the field like never before. Budget is unlimited of course.'

'Unlimited?'

Dee was dreaming. She was dreaming. She was still in her bed and had overslept. They were offering her a job, her dream job. Her mind buzzed. She wasn't here to get a job. She was here so it wouldn't look suspicious, her not wanting a job. Not wanting a job. Not wanting a job. Why? Because she would be working with Kester? But that was all over. He need never know; they need never know. Her dream job – why not? She was at the top of her game. They could obviously see her potential. Anything would be possible. Anything. And she would be working with Kester more closely than Farrell. She thought back to their afternoon at the PlayPen, her thoughts as she had left him there, betrayed. Her regret. If she regretted it, perhaps she could forgive him.

'We're satisfied with your experience.' Farrell sat back in her chair.

Dee smiled broadly at her. It could happen. If she could smile at Farrell here, now, smile and mean it…

'Most satisfied,' Gaunt said with a lascivious smile.

'I've just one more question for you,' Farrell said.

Gaunt was on his feet again. He moved round behind Dee. She felt his gnarled hands slip under the collar of her jacket and begin to guide it ever so gently back off her shoulders. Dee tensed, but didn't stop him. She was suddenly aware of the film of sweat that lay on her skin, the damp gathered fabric of her trousers in the V of her crotch. So this was the price. Yule hauled himself out of his chair and came towards her, a strange smile on his face; excited, regretful.

Farrell stood, turned and walked away from Dee towards the window. Her question reflected back across the room, blood-edged glass, and wedged in Dee's breast.

'Just how much do you want it?'

A word from the author

I hope you enjoyed
Sequela
. If you did, please post a review on Amazon – it'll boost the chances of there being a sequel and it'll make my day!

Thanks for reading,
Cleland Smith.

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