The Eidolon (23 page)
“Do you think Amos is tailing me?”
“Could be. But it’s not really his style. We should keep a low profile.”
“What happens when all this is over? Will you go back?”
“I dream about it, every single night. But I don’t know. There are so many uncertainties. Until it’s done, my plan extends only as far as leaving CERN, if I’m not escorted off the premises.”
“Do you think they’ll link it to us?”
“That depends on how well you’ve done your job.”
“Well, that depends on you getting me into the Computer Centre.”
“Ed Petreli is on nightshift in the Operator’s Room for the next couple of days,” he says. “I’ll be able to get him out of there.”
“How will you do it?”
“There’s a store in the basement where we keep some of our old data. The daystaff don’t start till eight, but you can get in overnight, as long as you have a pass and you log out what you’re taking. I always have trouble retrieving data and I’ve known Ed for a long time. He’ll come down and help me, but not for long. How much time do you need?”
“Not long. Five minutes to upload the worm.”
“What about the security cameras?”
“ORB has that covered.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black security fob, handing it to me. “Tonight. We’ll do this tonight.” Before he lets go, our eyes meet and I get a heady rush of realisation: this is real; we’re doing it.
“Six am. It’ll be getting to the end of Ed’s shift and his mind will be on other things. Afterwards, go home. Call me from there.”
“You could have done all this yourself. I don’t understand why Amos needed me.”
He looks away. “I’m not a programmer.”
“They didn’t need a programmer for the idea.”
“Maybe he couldn’t take that risk,” he says, shrugging.
We sit in silence for a while, watching the sunlight on the water.
“How do you face your colleagues every day?” I say “I’ve only known these people for a few days, but doesn’t it eat at you, what we’re about to do to them?”
“It used to. I’ve passed on information for years, something I’m not proud of. No one knew anything about it. It never sat well with me, but it was easier than the alternative. Now that I’ve had a chance to meet you, there’s no question that I’m doing the right thing.”
I
NEVER ASKED
him what he meant by that at the time. Only later did it strike me as an odd thing to say. We stayed on the lake until dusk, going over the details of the plan again. He caught a pike and I caught something you’d find in a bowl in a pet shop. Both of them went back into the water. We weren’t there for the fishing.
W
HEN
I
GET
back to the apartment, I email Lambert and give him the timings. I set my phone on vibrate and I go over the map of the Computer Centre, rehearsing the way in, swiping the fob on the security panel to the left of the main entrance, the short walk along the corridor to the toilets, third door on the left, where I’ll wait until I get the text alert from my dad. When it comes, Ed will be on his way, and once I hear his footsteps walking past, the coast will be clear. The security panel is to the right of the door – I just need to swipe the fob and I’m in. Then it’s up to me.
I
DON’T SLEEP
. Well, I get maybe an hour or so, but at least Sarah stays out of my head. It’s too full of everything else. At two am I get up. Guilt is shaking its head and sneering at me.
How could you do be doing this? After everything you’ve worked for,
they’ve
worked for?
I feel for the memory stick carrying Kali, which hangs from the cord round my neck.
I stand at the window and look down at the street below. A couple are walking home, arms round each other. A few teenagers are shouting as they straggle along the middle of the road, bursting with cocky invincibility, ready for anything life dares to throw at them.
You’ll never be one hundred per cent certain.
Another voice, cold and quiet, silences the guilt: Obligation.
Think of what will happen if you don’t. All of those people... everyone.
My fingers close round Kali and squeeze.
You don’t have a choice.
I
PARK IN
the services area and walk to the Computer Centre. It’s a hazy dawn and my breath mists in the cool air. The place is quiet. Shifts change at eight and I don’t meet anyone. My dad must already be in there. As I reach the entrance, my heart is thundering in my chest. I swipe the fob and the door clicks open. No one in the corridor. Above me the security camera blinks a red eye beside its black, blank face. Mr Y, you’d better have got this right. I make my way to the third door on the left and push it open. It squeaks on its hinges, making me wince. No one in here. I stand with my back to the door, listening to the drip, drip, drip of a leaking tap, and the sound of my breathing, and wait.
The phone in my pocket vibrates. I press my ear to the door, listening. Beyond the tribal drum of my pulse, I hear footsteps. I step back, hoping he doesn’t decide to go for a piss first. The footsteps fade away and there’s the sound of a door closing. I give it a minute, then open the door and step out into the corridor.
The entrance to the Operator’s Room is twenty metres away on the right. I can see the security panel to the right of the door and reach for the fob, but stop suddenly. A door on the left is opening –
Shit
. I try the door nearest me but it’s locked, I’m half way down the corridor and there’s nowhere to go. I turn and walk back the way I came, trying to look casual.
“Can I help you?”
I turn. Helena fucking Stanford. “I was just here to see if I could arrange a look round.”
“At six-fifteen in the morning? How did you get in?”
“They gave me a pass when I got here – I’m attached to ATLAS, but I asked if I could see what’s going on in the Computer Centre.” I snort. “I know it looks keen, but with the engineering checks happening in ATLAS just now, there’s not a lot to do and, well, I couldn’t sleep.”
She’s looking at me in a cold appraising way. Does she suspect something? No, I’m being paranoid. That’s the look she gives everyone.
Just relax, you’re doing fine.
“That
is
keen,” she says. “Well, I’d love to show you round, but I’m just on my way home. I’ve still got a lot to go over before Monday. Maybe some other time.”
“Sure. That would be good.”
She nods and walks away then stops. “You know,” she says, turning back, “I spoke to my ex-husband last night. He said he doesn’t know you.”
“Yeah, like I said, I only just started there recently – not had much of a chance to meet people.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Tony usually knows all the new starts.”
“Well, I keep myself to myself.” I try to make it sound light-hearted but she doesn’t smile. She turns slowly and walks away.
I walk in the opposite direction, considering whether I should double back once she’s clear. My phone vibrates again, the warning text that Ed’s on his way back.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I dart into the toilets and wait till he passes, then head for the exit.
W
HEN
I
GET
back to the apartment, I’m royally fucked off. Of all the bloody people to bump into. I call my dad. “No go.”
“What?”
“Helena caught me in the corridor.”
“Oh, shit. Did she see you go into the ops room?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s something.” He sighs. “I’ll need to create another opportunity, tonight. I’ll be in touch.”
“Okay.”
“And Robert?”
“Yeah?”
“Get some sleep.”
When I log on to the notebook, Lambert’s email is already waiting for me.
From: [email protected]
Sent: 14th May 06.25
Subject: re
That went well.
I reply:
Fuck you, Lambert. Have you any idea how difficult all this is?
I take a few deep breaths and press
erase
. Then start again:
Regrouping tonight. Will send confirmation. I need proof that I was transferred in from Romfield. Get me on their staff role. What’s the update on your admin access?
He responds immediately:
Staff role no problem.
Re access – still no joy. May have to admit defeat on this one, but will keep you posted.
Good luck.
I close it down and try to sleep.
S
LEEP’S NOT HAPPENING
. I try to read, but I can’t concentrate. I watch some TV, I surf the net. Finally, worn out, I give in. It feels like I’m just on the descent when the phone goes. I scramble about until I find it in my jeans pocket, hanging over the back of the chair, but I’ve missed the call by the time I get to it.
I listen to the voicemail. “Hey, Robert! Rene here. We are off to climb at Leaz, it’s an escarpment overlooking the Rhone, then we are going to Charlie’s Bar later. If you wanna come, give me a call!”
I don’t even consider it. I can’t face another bonding session, not now. I turn the phone to silent, put it back in my coat pocket and try to go back to sleep.
It doesn’t work.
Thanks Rene. Your timing sucks.
I get up.
I make myself a late lunch, but hardly eat any of it, then, restless, get dressed and take a walk into town. The streets are busy. Saturday shoppers, Saturday tourists. I should feel like a tourist. Instead I feel like a criminal. It spoils the ambience.
Geneva is a stylish place. Lots of beautiful people, well dressed, well groomed, slim. In the breaks between buildings I can see the fountain, Jet d’Eau it’s called. I remember reading somewhere that it’s large enough that you can see it from anywhere in the city. It was once an escape valve for the dam, but now it’s a tourist attraction. The wind spreads it sideways, forming a curtain of white spray. There are lots of small cafés on this street, with menus written on blackboards on the walls outside. I stop to read one of them, trying to figure out what food words I recognise from O-Level French. Anything to take my mind off what’s coming tonight.
Raised voices come from inside – a couple arguing in English. “Why are you doing this?” he says.
I glance in through the window to my right. A block of sunlight illuminates half of the room. The woman has her back to me – slim, dark-haired, wiping a cloth vigorously over the surface of a table. “After what they did to me, cleaning tables gives me some sense of normality. I just want my life back.” She slams the salt and pepper shakers down.
“Look, I know how you feel, but...” He’s standing in the shadows and I can’t see his face.
“You know how I feel?”
“I was in the same place myself once, Aiyana.”
Why are we intrigued by other people’s strife? I’m not reading the menu anymore; I’m eavesdropping.
She moves to another table, scrubbing its surface with a brutality that suggests it’s done her a great personal wrong, and as she turns I recognise her blue eyes. It’s the woman from the other day, the woman who stopped me getting mowed down by the Lamborghini. I could say thanks. Or maybe get her phone number.
In the middle of an argument? And what about Cora? This isn’t a good time.
What if there isn’t another time, though?
“You can’t change things, Aiyana,” says the man as my eyes dart back to the blackboard. “What did you think would happen?”
“Think?
Think?
Why would I think? I was thirty-three years old – I wasn’t ready!”
“Look,” he says, his voice low and patient, “give it some time. You might see things differently in a while.”
“I doubt that.” Another slam for a pepper-pot in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Well, you know where we are.”
The door opens without warning and I’m caught loitering. I stride towards the entrance, reaching for it, as though I was on my way in. The man steps back and holds the door open for me. “Thanks,” I say, but the word catches in my throat as I glance at him. “You...”
The gangster smiles at me with his beetle-black eyes, the web tattoo just visible at the side of his neck.
“You were there, when the guy held me up. If it weren’t for you...”
“It was nothing.” Now that I see him in the daylight, he doesn’t strike me as a gangster. Then again, the only gangsters I’ve seen are the ones in films
,
so I wouldn’t really know.
The woman has stopped venting her spleen on the tables and now stands watching us. They’re wearing matching stone necklaces – his and hers – oval pebbles on leather threads. I was never going to get her phone number. What was I thinking?
I breathe a nervous laugh. “I was passing and I saw you and... well. I just wanted to say thanks.” She smiles unconvincingly and there’s an uncomfortable pause. I try to break it with something frivolous. “And to find you both here, that’s eh... that’s quite...”
“A coincidence?” he says.
She glances at him.
Another awkward silence and I recall that I did just burst in at the end of their disagreement.
“Well,” I say, glancing at my feet. “Thanks anyway. I appreciate what you did. Both of you.”
“That’s alright.” He has this faraway look in his eyes.
Okay, Robert, that’s your cue to leave.
I turn towards the door, then hesitate. I won’t get another chance. I turn and ask, “How did you know?”
“Sorry?” she says.
“How did you know the car would jump the lights?” Her eyes shift towards the man again and I follow her gaze. “And how did you scare off that mugger?”
He studies me for a moment with an unblinking stare. “Do you really want to know?” he says. “Think before you answer.”
I’m not asking for a rundown on Chaos Theory, for God’s sake. I’m just curious.
“Yeah, of course I do.”
“Alright then. Why don’t we buy you a drink? There’s a pub round the corner.” He gestures towards the door.
I step outside, feeling even more awkward than I did a minute ago. A sentence of explanation was all I was after. “No, look, I don’t want to impose...”