Schrödinger’s

Daughter

Book 2 in the Series

The Men from the Shadows

By Reen Jones

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead, or anywhere in between, or events and locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2022 by Reen Jones

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

For more information:

reenjones@outlook.com

http://reenjones.com

Contents

Twenty-five years later

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Twenty-five years later

A generation has passed. Due to the accidental killing of his father, and the rumoured emotional instability of his mother, baby Marcus is brought up by his uncle’s family, where he soon learns that it is not what you know, but who you know, that counts in life, and that the right handshake can open any door.

The world has become a harder place in this very near future—the unemployed are criminalised—and forced to work where they are sent or to starve. Healthcare is only available for those who can afford to pay for it.

But to entrepreneurs like Sidney Goldblatt, the opportunities are endless. He will go where no government can touch him and create a new society.

Chapter 1

It was only a building, so why did it make him feel so nervous?

Daniel Alexander gazed up at the massive Goldblatt Building from the other side of the road. The strange feeling of apprehension that first gripped his gut now squeezed it, and made him feel slightly sick.

Ah, well. This is it. No turning back now!

What was it about this place that made him feel uncomfortable?

It was a massive glass and chrome monster that swallowed most of the skyline and dwarfed the shops and offices around it. On the outside wall was the faint pink outline where somebody had once sprayed the words ‘Never-never land’. The latest boy band or a comment on the huge global company the building represented?

That wasn’t there before.

He shook his head. That wasn’t there before. Why should he think that? He’d never been here before.

Perhaps he’d seen it on television.

He rechecked the time on his mobile phone. He was early. He turned around and glanced at the stuff in the window of the charity shop behind him. ‘The Rock Bottom Cheap Shop’ it claimed, ‘Established 2018. Our prices can’t be beaten!’

He wouldn’t put it off. He forced himself to cross the road.

A security man checked his ID and scanned the bar code as soon as he walked in through the gleaming glass door, then he mounted the escalator to the first floor. The smell of air freshener pervaded the atmosphere, but the building was no longer threatening once he was inside, in fact, it was actually welcoming. Pine trees. It reminded him of Christmas. What could he have been worrying about?

In contrast to the austere exterior, the interior was light and airy. Modern—whatever that may be. In front of him, a large sign announced, ‘Induction Room’. Another security man glanced at his ID card, checked his name on a list, and gave him a badge which proclaimed, ‘Daniel’, and below, in smaller letters, ‘Guest’.

“Anywhere on the left, sir.”

He found a place at the back of the room and nodded to the only other man in the row. He sat down, put his badge on, and gazed around. The presentation was about to start. He wasn’t as early as he had thought.

“Good morning, gentlemen!” A smallish man with glasses had taken the podium. He wore an expensive-looking pearl grey suit and looked like a salesman, but a very successful salesman. His shirt was open at the top and a gold pendant nestled in the luxuriant hair of his chest.

“Welcome to the Goldblatt Institute. My name is Sidney Goldblatt, and I’m here to make you rich!”

Sidney Goldblatt drew himself up to his unimpressive five-foot-four and glanced all around with a practiced, all-encompassing smile.

On Daniel’s side of the room, there were only ten or twelve people in total, of varying ages. But the other side of the aisle was practically full. There were three separate groups of sullen-looking men, accompanied by armed police or prison officers. The government had really cracked down on the long-term unemployed, and presumably, these guys were not there by choice.

Daniel stared for a moment then looked away. They were the sort of men you wouldn’t want to be caught staring at.

“The Goldblatt Institute,” Mr Goldblatt intoned, “has always been at the forefront of technology, and we now have the exclusive rights to prospect for various minerals on the surface of the Moon. In order to do that, we need men. Hard-working men who want to get very rich in a very short time. As you will know, we have had a small colony on the Moon for a couple of years now, scientists, technicians, miners and support workers. And now we need more men to join us.”

The air was warm, heavy with the aroma of air-freshener and testosterone. Daniel’s neighbour nudged him. A man in the next row had fallen asleep already, his head dropped on his chest, and he had started to snore. They shared the joke.

“This is not a contract that will suit everybody,” Mr Goldblatt was saying, as a Barbie Doll look-alike with gravity-defying hair-extensions was pushing a tea trolley up the aisle.

“Just in time,” Daniel’s neighbour quipped. “Everybody’s falling asleep here!”

Daniel looked at the clock on the wall, then checked it against the time on his phone. Where had the time gone? He must have fallen asleep, too. Let’s hope nobody noticed him. He gratefully accepted a cup of coffee and passed one to his neighbour.

“Unfortunately, the accommodation is a bit basic, there are no women, no alcohol, and little contact with home.”

Goldblatt was summing up! What had happened to the rest of the presentation?

“But there is a canteen, cinema, library and sports facilities. All of the basics are free, of course, and if you work well, you can earn tokens to buy extras. You receive your entire salary at the end of the contract, and it’s all tax-free. The initial contract, as I said, will be for twelve months, and at the end of that time, you will leave with more money in your pocket than you would earn in five years on Earth. Or you could sign up for another year. What have you got to lose? The Earth is over-polluted, rapidly overheating, and vastly over-populated. We offer you a brand new world”

Daniel only realised the warm, sweet, coffee had gone cold when he took another sip from the almost empty cup, as Mr Goldblatt said, “I am inviting you to be part of our team. We are not only looking towards the future; we are changing the future. The revolution is coming. and you can be part of it. Are there any questions?”

“Yes!”

It was one of the police officers. He stood up and gestured to the men on his side of the aisle.

“Suppose some of these men turn out not to be suitable for the work? Can they pull out before the end of the contract?”

“In extreme cases they can be returned to Earth. Criminals who still have time to serve will go back to prison to finish their sentences. The non-criminal work-shy will not qualify for benefits until the end of the twelve months, as they will have intentionally made themselves unemployed by not working to a reasonable standard. And if they are still on the streets two weeks after returning, they may be imprisoned as vagrants.”

He was no longer the friendly salesman, but he still managed a smile, of sorts.

“And do they get paid for the work they’ve done?”

Goldblatt shook his head, smiling sadly. “Unfortunately, that would not be possible. It is extremely expensive to run a space shuttle back to earth. This is precisely why our selection process is so rigorous. Now if there are no more questions, we will adjourn for lunch, and you can make your decisions. Not everybody can handle being rich!” He forced a laugh. “So those of you who do want to get rich will come back here at—”, he looked at his watch, “two o’clock, when we will start with individual assessments and medicals for the successful applicants, with a view to job allocation. Those who don’t want to get rich can leave now. And, by the way,” he added, with a flash of fluorescent teeth, “don’t take any notice of the bad publicity you may have heard about this company. There are a few nasty rumours being put about by people who can’t bear the idea of the average man in the street becoming seriously rich!”

Lunch was a sumptuous buffet set out on a table the entire length of the room. It was a long time since Daniel had seen so much food on offer. This was not your usual canteen fare, either.

He joined his neighbour and another man, a big-built black guy, and they found a seat by the window. But the window didn’t open and there was no escape from the air-freshener smell or the slightly irritating music that played in the background.

“I’m Glenn,” said Daniel’s neighbour, pointing to his badge with a grin.

“My name’s Trev, but I’m not stopping!”

The black guy laughed out loud. He was a good six inches shorter than gangly light-haired Daniel, and he could have been a boxer or an athlete. But perhaps not recently.

“And I’m Daniel. So, why aren’t you stopping, Trev? Seems like the opportunity of a lifetime. Twelve months discomfort, and, well, the money’s life-changing. It’s tax-free and you’ve got no expenses whilst you’re there. Probably be long hours, but what the heck! I mean, a trip to the Moon! It’s an adventure, even if it’s crap work, and the company goes bust before they pay you!”

“I don’t trust them. Those blokes with the police guards. Do you think they want to be here? Where are they now, anyway? I don’t see them getting a free lunch.”

Daniel looked around. It was true. There was no sign of the men from the other side of the aisle. “We can walk out if we don’t like it, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. But not until after I’ve eaten this!” he added with a chuckle. He had an infectious laugh.

“What’ll you do?”

Trev shrugged his shoulders. “Find myself a rich widow with a teenage daughter. There are already two or three wealthy ladies who appreciate young Trev’s company on a cold night, believe me! Or I’ll ask my mum to teach me to read people’s cards and become a fortune-teller like her. She makes a load of dosh doing that, and it’s all tax- free, too.”

He shovelled the last forkful of food into his mouth and headed back to the table for a second helping.

“Well, I think it’s worth a shot,” Daniel said. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” He looked down at his soft, manicured hands and hid them in his lap. “But I need the money. I’ve got a six-year-old daughter who is chronically ill, and her medical insurance runs out in June.”

“That’s tough,” Glenn nodded. “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. This coffee’s lousy! I’m sure they’re still using refined sugar, and refined sugar is illegal.”

Daniel tasted the coffee again. “Yuk! I hope to God the man who makes this coffee doesn’t apply for a job and come with us.”

Trev soon returned, grinning. He had a tray this time; his plate was piled high, and he brought more coffees all round.

“Drink up, lads! Coffee’s on me. Get it while it’s free!”

“That’s what you think! It’s not free unless you sign up.” Glenn pointed to one of the security cameras scanning the dining hall. “That CCTV has followed you all the way back to your seat,” he joked with a mischievous grin. “They’ll bill you for it later!”

“They won’t see me again, mate!” Trev scoffed.

“They do say there is no such thing as a free lunch,” Daniel remarked ominously.

Trev stayed only until the end of the meal. As soon as he finished, he said goodbye to his new companions and left, with a wink and a cheery wave as he went through the door.

“Nice guy,” Glenn commented. “Shame he’s dropping out without even giving it a try.”

Once back in the Induction Room, they returned to their seats. Mr Goldblatt reiterated that only those serious about getting rich should go on to the next part of the induction: the medicals. One-to-one interviews would follow. Daniel was assigned to Doctor Curtis, while Glenn was to see somebody else.

Daniel made his way down the corridor to the doctor’s room and took a seat on one of the rows of chairs outside the door, with three other men.

Almost immediately, his name was called.

“So, Mr Alexander, is it?” He was uncomfortably young looking. Much younger than Daniel.

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Do sit down. So how is your general health, Mr Alexander? Have you got your insurance card?” he asked before Daniel could reply. He picked up his scanner from the desk and passed it over the plastic card Daniel was holding. He read the information it downloaded to the screen in front of him without commenting. Daniel felt his stomach tightening, but he didn’t know why.

“I’ll just listen to your heart and do your blood pressure,” the doctor continued, “then I’ll take a blood sample. Have you had an HIV test recently?” he asked.

“About two years ago I think...”

“And it was negative?”

Daniel nodded.

“What recreational drugs do you take?”

“Only alcohol. Occasionally.”

He put the blood sample into a bottle and wrote Daniel’s name on it, before he produced a form. “I want you to read through this list of conditions on pages 1 and 2 and put a cross against any which apply to you. Having one of these conditions does not mean you are automatically unsuitable for the work, but we do need to know.”

Daniel nodded. The sick feeling in his stomach was getting stronger.

He looked at the form. ‘Learning Difficulties’. That euphemism could cover anything these days, from ‘not very good at algebra’ to ‘needs help to tie his shoelaces’! His pen hovered over ‘Mental Health Problems’. Another phrase that could mean anything, too. He had been depressed recently, and the last few months seemed all a bit hazy, but it was hardly surprising, given his circumstances. He hadn’t seen a doctor about it though, as he’d managed to order some pills off the Internet. But he felt he ought to tick something. In fact, he felt guilty because he hadn’t found anything he could confess to.

It was all he could do not to cheer out loud when the doctor told him he had passed the physical and should proceed to room 304, on the next floor. There they would discuss what job he would be assigned to.

Then the doctor produced an oversized hypodermic syringe, as though from nowhere. “In order to work in an extra-terrestrial environment, you need to be fitted with a little microchip, for your ID and access to your health records in case of emergency. It’s for your own safety, of course,” he explained. “The military use them, as well, Nothing to worry about.”

“OK.” What else could he say? He held out his arm.

“In the back of your neck,” the doctor said. He checked the screen again. “Oh! You’ve been chipped already. That saves me a job!”

As he left the doctor’s room and entered the lift for the third floor, he looked around for Glenn. It would be great if they could both get through.

Daniel’s nerves had calmed down a bit by the time he reached the third floor, and the sickly feeling had gone. The worst part was over; he had been accepted for work by the Goldblatt Institute. He didn’t care what job they gave him. At least it would be money coming in.

In room 304, a man asked his name, keyed it into the computer, and asked him if he had ever been known by any other name.

“No.”

Does he think I’d have told him if I had?

“No criminal record then,” he continued. “That’s good. So, what have you been doing recently?”

Daniel shrugged. “Bits and pieces.”

“You’re not married. Any special girlfriend around? ‘Significant other’?”

“No. I’m divorced. I have a daughter, but she lives with my ex-wife in the States.”

“Ah, yes.” He read the notes on the computer screen. “Actually, you’re exactly the sort of man we want.”

Daniel raised his eyebrows.

“You will be a very long way from home, and space travel is still expensive. We cannot lay on a space shuttle because somebody is worried that his missus is having it away with the man next door.”

“No problem there.”

“Have you had any military experience?”

“No. I have done some voluntary work, though, for the Global Department of the Environment.”

“Ah! That’ll be where you got chipped. Building motorways and litter picking.”

Daniel looked him straight in the eyes and held his gaze. “We were clearing land-mines all over the Balkans and central Africa. I lost two good mates out there.”

“Well, there aren’t any land-mines on the Moon—as far as I know.” He looked at the computer screen which still displayed the details of Daniel’s past. “You still have the same email address?”

“Yes.”

“Right then, Mr Alexander. I’m suggesting you would be suited to Human Resources, but the final decision will be made when we have seen everybody else. The next intake will be in four months’ time, but we will be in touch with you before then to tell you what you can and cannot bring with you.”

“Is that it?”

The doctor started to print something from his computer.

“Just this Non-Disclosure document, then it is indeed. Thank you for your time, and welcome to the Goldblatt Institute.”

Daniel took a deep breath. “There might be a problem waiting until the end of the year to get paid,” he said. “My daughter’s health insurance is due in June.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll have a word with Mr Goldblatt. They should be able to arrange a cash transfer.”

Daniel heaved a sigh of relief as he walked out into the corridor. Had Glenn passed, too?

This was the start of his new life.

Chapter 2

“They might have given me time to pack!” Daniel muttered to himself as he checked off the items on his list. Everything was happening at once.

He’d heard nothing from the Goldblatt Institute for nearly four months and was convinced that they had changed their minds about him—then he got twenty-four hours’ notice to leave, and his flat-mate hated him!

A train and two taxis later, he stood on the topmost rung of the ladder that took him up to the door of the space shuttle. It was really happening! He rested while he caught his breath. The pressure suit was a stupid shade of orange, and it was awkward and cumbersome, and he was glad he didn’t have to carry his luggage up for himself.

He looked over the barren East Anglian landscape and suddenly realised it would be twelve months before he saw this scene again. The once lush grassland was now brown and scorched from a combination of climate change and too many years of exploiting the soil. With one last glance, he stepped inside and descended the stairway to the passenger area.

There were only eight seats, four of them already taken. He’d expected it to be bigger, more people. Where were those from the other side of the aisle?

Two more men arrived, and finally, just when he had given up hope, Glenn appeared at the doorway and waved excitedly before taking the seat in front of him. There was no chance to speak. He fastened his seat belt when a disincarnate voice instructed him to do so, and tried to relax.

At first the noise of the engines was overbearing, as the great beast raised itself up from its moorings with a massive shudder. Three minutes later, the two booster rockets fell away, and all went quiet. Soft music started to play, and he gazed out of the window, watching continents float by. Then his seat slowly started to recline, until he was lying flat, and the blue sky turned instantly to black. And that was it.

He didn’t remember any more until his seat gently righted itself and he saw the other men starting to stir. A metallic voice told him that they were now in orbit round the Moon.

After they landed, he finally managed to catch up with Glenn. He tried to appear nonchalant as he gazed up at the curtain of shining stars—many more than he had ever seen from Earth. But everybody else was reacting in the same way.

Glenn kept saying, “Wow!”

A welcoming committee arrived as though on cue, in the form of two Surface Roving Vehicles that would take them to their final destination. The drivers didn’t bother to introduce themselves, but quickly took four men each and set out one behind the other across the rocky barren terrain.

After a while, the novelty started to wear thin, and Daniel ceased to notice the scenery. He just wanted to get there. Wherever ‘there’ was. Finally a series of massive either glass or Perspex domes appeared on the horizon. The driver’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“This, gentlemen,” he announced as they drew nearer, “is Base Camp 1, and it will be ‘home’ for the next twelve months!”

When everyone had dismounted from the SRVs, they were all shepherded through two airlocks into another Induction Room, similar to the one back on Earth. Soft music played in the background. A security officer checked their names off his list and instructed them to remove their pressure suits, before he handed them their personal Welcome Pack and invited them to sit down.

“Great! We’ve got a map of the site,” Daniel said. “What’s your dormitory number?”

“C4.” Glenn was still grinning like a little kid at the seaside.

“Same as me. Brilliant. Are you in Human Resources too?”

“They said I would be. Yes, here it is.”

It was written on the top of the first page of his Welcome Pack. Once again, they chose to sit at the back of the room.

“Welcome to Base Camp 1, gentlemen.”

One of the facilitators had stepped up to the podium. “My name is Marcus. Now I know you’ve had a very tiring few days!” There were a few laughs from the audience. “So I will not keep you hanging about any longer than necessary.”

He brought up an enlarged view of the map on the giant screen behind him. “You are all in dormitories in C Sector, so we’ll head over there after this extremely short introduction, and I will take you to your accommodation. The dormitories have four beds each. You have your own coffee machine, and hand washing facilities, a sitting-room and a shower. The main shower facilities are here.” He pointed a laser light at the screen. “Also within easy reach, sports facilities, a library, and the canteen is here.” He pointed to each item on the map. “What will be new to most of you is that within the confines of Base Camp 1 we have artificial gravity and artificial daylight. Otherwise we would have two weeks dark and two weeks daytime, which would be very tiring for everybody.

“Because of this unnatural system, we require you all to take night-time sedation. Your medication will be waiting for you when you retire to bed, and it is essential that you take it. Anybody with a problem about that can apply to see a doctor. There will also be vitamin pills to be taken in the morning before you start work. This is, again, compulsory, as although some of the food is grown here in our hydroponic system, most of it is processed and may have lost much of its nutritional value. Please make full use of the free coffee provided, as it is very important you do not get dehydrated.

“You will all have regular blood tests—a simple pin prick—to make sure this unnatural regime is not doing any harm to your health. If there is any sign that your body is not tolerating the lunar environment, our medics will do their best to sort you out, and, if all else fails, we will arrange for you to be shuttled back to Earth. Now are there any questions?”

He looked around, his eyebrows raised in expectation, making eye-contact with each one.

“No? Good. If you think of anything later, come and find me. Marcus.” He patted the name-badge on his chest. “You won’t be starting work until tomorrow, so I’ll now show you to your accommodation. Your luggage should have arrived by now, and you can spend the rest of the day settling in and getting used to the layout of the Facility. If you’d like to follow me, gentlemen.”

“Wow!” Daniel laughed. “We’ve got the rest of the day to explore!”

“I wouldn’t put it quite like that,” Marcus said.

The passageways were all signposted, and coloured tape was laid out on the floor. The one they followed read, ‘C Sector. Dormitories.’ Further along the way, the signs read, ‘Dormitories C1-C2’ in one direction and, ‘Dormitories C3-C4’ the other way. Marcus led the way, dropping off men at their dormitories as they reached them, two at C2 and two at C3. When they finally arrived at C4, there were only four men left, but Marcus checked on his list anyway.

“OK. Here we should have Glenn Dixon, Billy Tetley, Graeme Dane and Daniel Alexander. You’re not all new, I see. Free time for the rest of the day, then, gentlemen, and we’ll see you all at your assigned workstations tomorrow, 09.00 hours local time. That’s the time on the wall clocks, in case you haven’t worked it out. Lights out is at 23.00 hours. All power is switched down to a minimum after that. That includes heating outside the dormitories. So if you are in the library or at the gym, make sure you’re back in good time. It is very, very dark after lights out and it gets cold extremely quickly.

“You do not want to find yourself locked out of your quarters. I assure you, that you will never do it again.”

Daniel had to duck his head to enter the doorway. The beds were narrow and looked like army issue, and they were arranged in two pairs at each end of the room, with the coffee machine and a small sink in the middle.

The pine air-freshener smell immediately hit him as he stepped inside and walked over to the beds. “I’ll take this one if there are no objections,” he said, throwing himself onto the one furthest from the door.

“We’ve got a locker each,” Glenn said, bagging the bed next to Daniel and bouncing up and down on it, “and hey, look! A sort of wardrobe thingummy. Where’s our bags then?”

Billy opened a door which nobody else had noticed. “Here you go, guys.”

The door led to another small room, furnished with a sofa and two armchairs. Off to one side were toilet facilities and a single shower, and their luggage was on the coffee table in the middle of the room, together with a small plan of the area, showing the HR work area.

“Well done, Billy. How did you know there was another room?” Glenn laughed.

Billy tapped the side of his nose and gave an exaggerated wink. “I’m psychic!” he quipped. “Nah! Not really. Like the man said, I been here before, see. Know what to expect, like, innit?”

“Great,” Daniel slapped him on the shoulder. “You can be our official guide to what goes on here.”

“Right!” He marched over to the coffee machine. “The coffee machine; most important thing in here. Keeps the working man working.”

He found four mugs and started pouring coffee into each one, while the other three retrieved their bags and began unpacking. Glenn opened his wardrobe and looked inside.

“Shit! What’s this?”

“It’s your pressure suit,” Billy said. “You won’t need it. It’s got to be available though. Health and Safety.”

“It’s a bloody space suit. Hope they don’t expect us to go outside.”

“Nah! It’s just in case the system fails in here. And that’s never happened, so there’s no reason to think it should do now.”

“When were you here before then, Billy?” Glenn wanted to know.

“Duh? Couple of years ago, I think. Never was any good with figures.” He removed the luminous yellow woolly hat he was wearing, examined it and put it back on again. “Keeps my brains warm, see. I’ve got a scarf to match.”

“Doesn’t work very well, though, does it?” Graeme spoke for the first time. He was older than the others, well into his forties, his face lined, and with a growth of stubble. Daniel wondered why he was there. He must have a story to tell.

“Nah! It’s seen better days.” Billy patted his hat affectionately.

“I’m going to take a shower. And I need a shave.” Graeme poured over the map for a moment, then picked up his change of clothes, threw his bag on one of the free beds and left the dormitory.

“He’s gonna give me a headache if he don’t stop talking!” Billy scoffed nodding his head towards Graeme. “We’ve got a shower here, but it’s one between four of us, and the showers at the Sports Facility are better. And you can take your time,” he explained.

Daniel made last minute adjustments to the clothes in his cupboard. Finally, he placed a small, framed photograph on the locker beside his bed.

“My daughter!”

Glenn and Billy came over to look.

“How old is she?”

“Six.”

“What a little sweetie!” Billy picked up the photo and looked at it closely. His face softened. “That’s what we all miss when we’re away from home—our family.”

“She’s the only thing that keeps me going.”

“Where’s her mum?” Billy asked.

“She’s not with us anymore.”

“Shame.” He handed the photo to Glenn. “Cute, ain’t she?”

Glenn looked and nodded.

Billy stretched out on his bed, yellow hat firmly in place. “You know what? I really feel like as how I’ve come home. I mean, like, I got nowhere or nobody back on Earth. This is my family. This whole place is awesome!”

Glenn pulled a face. Did people really still say that?

“So what’s the matter with ‘Cheerful’?” He nodded towards the door. “Not very sociable, is he?”

“Graeme? He’s been here before, too.” Billy sounded unsure whether to say any more, but he continued anyway. “In our own way, we was both naughty boys. I came here the first time because of a small mistake on my part. I was working at this food bank. Twelve-hour shift. Hadn’t eaten anything for—don’t want to exaggerate—probably a day and a bit—so I thought nobody was looking and I nicked this packet of biscuits. No, I didn’t really nick it. It was damaged, broken open, and I pinched a biscuit out the packet. But there’s always somebody watching you, though!

“I never went to prison, nor nothing. They just sacked me, but it went on my records for ever more. This was the only place I could get work. But I loved it, so I’ve come back. If I had been born fifty years earlier, I could have said ‘I can’t get a job!’ and they’d feed me, pay my rent, give me money for beer and drugs and I could have had ten kids and three dogs, and the more money you needed the more they’d give you. Now if you can’t get work, you’re a criminal. ‘Work-shy’, they call it, innit? So you make sure you jump, before you get pushed!”

“So what did you do with the money you earned last time you were here?” Glenn started refilling the coffee mug.

“It’s all in the bank. Tax-free. My retirement fund. Checked it was there the day I got back home.”

“That’s good to know!” Daniel felt relieved to hear that everything was above board as far as money was concerned.

“Billy,” Glenn looked pointedly up at the ceiling then quickly turned away, “is that a CCTV camera up there? Are we being watched?”

“It’s only Health and Safety. Like in case one of us is ill in the night, or something.”

“Can’t we switch it off, cover it up or something?” He pulled a chair over, to climb up and inspect it further.

“Nah. They’d have a team of electricians round here before you even got down off that chair! It’s good really, though. You know you’re safe. And say if somebody broke in and nicked something; it’d all be on tape. I tell you, this place is awesome. It’s the place everybody wants to work at.”

“Well, you seem to have done OK out of it. You’ve even come back for more.”

Billy grinned and nodded. He was obviously very much a company man.

“What about Graeme? Did you know him when you were here last time?”

“I think so. I sort of remember him. Don’t think we actually worked in the same Sector though. You’ll have to ask him why he’s come back though. Probably he wants the money, like the rest of us. Now in my capacity as your official guide, where would you two like to go on your last night of freedom?”

“Library, sports, then canteen.” Daniel started rinsing his mug under the tap.

“Canteen, then library, then sports,” Glenn corrected him. “Get your priorities right!”

The canteen, like everything else, was light and airy with gleaming chrome everywhere. There was a series of sharp clicks as they entered. The system had recognised their microchips. Billy pointed out a cordoned-off and partially screened area at the far end. “That’s for managers,” he explained. “We aren’t allowed in there.”

The canteen food was surprisingly good, with several choices, but they could all have done without the background music. They sat at the window and Daniel found himself gazing out at the rugged terrain, still just visible in the darkness.

“Can’t get used to this view!”

“You will.” Billy was more interested in what was on his plate. “You’ll soon get sick of it, then you won’t even notice it after a bit. You get two weeks of this, then you get two weeks solid daylight, but all you can see then is craters and sand anyway, so you’re not missing anything. You get sick of that, eventually, too.”

“I don’t reckon much to this coffee,” Glenn said. “Isn’t there a shop where you can buy some and make your own? This is yuck!”

“No shops, ‘cos there’s no money. All the essentials are free, but there’s not many extras. So we all get lousy coffee. It’s ‘cos they use recycled water, and it has to be purified. You get used to that, too. They do have cola in the canteen, but you need to earn tokens for good performance to get it. And there’s that fizzy bottled water, but not many people like it.”

After their meal Billy introduced them to Terry, the long-haired guy who ran the library, and the Head Sports Facilitator, John, who talked to them about how important it is to keep fit in artificial gravity. Then it was back to the dormitory before lights out. Graeme was already in his bed and sleeping. As the digital clock on the wall clicked over to 22.30, the lights suddenly dimmed. The room felt warm and cosy.

“Half hour to lights out,” Billy explained. Daniel saw that on each bedside locker there now stood a small cup of water and two pills, a green one and a blue-and-black capsule.

“Blue-and-black one’s your vitamins. Green one’s a sleeping tablet. You won’t be able to sleep without that, ‘cos there’s no proper day and night here.”

Daniel showered quickly. The shower was small and cramped, and he made up his mind he would use the one at the Sports Facility next time. He came out and sat down on his bed before swallowing the pills, then he got under the duvet. Although it looked like army issue, it was warm and surprisingly comfortable, sort of squidgy, like one of those old water beds that were so popular at one time. Sweet music was being played by an unseen music centre, and the bed felt so soft he was sinking down into it. A pleasant prickly feeling pervaded his body. Then complete blackness.

Chapter 3

Glenn had to admit the work on his first day was anything but exciting. He and Daniel were in the same department, in a large open-plan office, some of the workstations separated by screens, but they were not within talking distance. At the front of the big office area, he could pick out Billy’s awful yellow hat, and the scarf wrapped around his neck, but he was quite a way from them both, and he did not know where Graeme was. Both were reporting to a man called Michael.

‘Think of me as your guardian angel for the time you’re here,’ he had said. Then he went on to explain that talking about your work to your colleagues was strictly banned.

Not that there was anything to talk about. All he had done since he started that morning was to input page after page of figures. Perhaps, he told himself, it would be more interesting when he knew what he was actually doing.

In fact, when a medic with a green armband came to take him for his baseline blood test, he was glad of the diversion. The medic took him along the now familiar white concertina-walled corridors to Sector D, the medical Sector. He got Glenn’s details up on the screen, produced a massive hypodermic syringe and quipped, “This is when I am supposed to say, ‘Just a little prick!’ I think.”

By the time he stopped laughing, he had taken half a syringe full of blood.

“I can see you’ve done this before!”

“Once or twice.”

“What happens next?”

“Nothing yet. We need a baseline to know what is normal for you, so we can check how well you’re tolerating the conditions here. OK?”

“And if I’m not?”

“We sort you out so that you are.”

“So when will they let me know?”

“If everything’s OK, you won’t hear anything. You’ll get another test in about four weeks’ time, and so on. You probably won’t hear anything at all unless you need to be stabilised. It’s only a formality, really. A precaution.”

Back in the dormitory that evening he and Daniel compared notes, each being careful not to say or ask anything that should not be said or asked.

“So everybody’s had a good day at the office?” Glenn finally said.

“Fantastic!” There was some definite cynicism in Daniel’s voice. “Been counting paper clips all day.”

“Me too.”

“But I expect mine were a different colour.”

“They probably were, but I can’t tell you what colour mine were, or I’d have to kill you!” They both laughed.

Glenn poured two mugs of the free coffee and they walked through to the little sitting room area. “Seriously,” he said, “what do you make of it so far?”

Daniel took a big mouthful of the over-sweet coffee and pulled a face. “It’ll take some getting used to. Bloody computer crashed twice today, and I had to reboot it.” He put his mug down on the table. “It was a big decision to come here. We’re investing a lot of time and effort in this one year, but I think it will be worth it. It’s the only way I can pay my daughter’s insurance. Michael’s promised to sort it out. We just have to keep our heads down and get on with it, you know what I mean. Keep your nose clean and don’t draw attention to yourself. There’s a pot of gold at the end of this particular rainbow. You just need to make sure you don’t knock it over before you get to pick it up!”

“What do you make of Graeme, then?”

“Oh God!” Daniel picked up his mug, looked at it then put it down again without drinking any more. “One of nature’s misfits. What have we done to deserve him? Billy seems a good lad though. Very friendly, and helpful. It’s useful to have somebody who knows the ropes.”

“You say Michael’s going to get your daughter’s insurance sorted out?”

“I told them at the induction that I couldn’t accept the contract otherwise. Sidney Goldblatt himself came and had a word with me. Promised to get it paid up to the end of the year. Tabitha’s all I’ve got.”

“Do you mind if I ask what’s wrong with her?”

“Leukaemia. She’s only six years old.”

“Can’t they treat that now?”

“I had to take out private insurance. They’ve put her on a maintenance dose, but it was diagnosed too late for a cure. As long as she gets her chemo, well, it will get worse, but it won’t get worse as quickly as it would have without it. As long as the insurance is paid up. There’s a man in China who’s been doing a lot of research on a new type of treatment. It’s scathingly expensive at the moment, but he has had quite a lot of success. A couple of years working here, and I might be able to afford it. Even after one year, I could start the treatment, so it doesn’t spread any further. That’s why I need this place.”

“So—what about her mother?”

“She’s history. She fell in love with somebody she met at the hospital. He really understood her, she said, but he just didn’t want a sick child. So she left Tabitha with a neighbour and ran off with him. I don’t even know where she is, but I expect you’ve heard this sort of thing before. I have too, but I never thought it would happen to me.”

“So who looks after Tabitha?”

“My mother-in-law.”

“She OK?”

“The mother-in-law? Best of a bad job, I suppose. She doesn’t like me. I was never good enough for her daughter. Her daughter was going to be a celebrity, not a wife and mother. But she loves Tabitha, and that’s all that matters.”

“Did you see your daughter much before you left?”

“No, not in the last couple of years. The mother-in-law moved to America, California, for her husband’s work, you know. Every time I phoned there was some reason I can’t speak to Tabitha. She’s in the garden. She’s with her support worker. There’s always something. I’ve got used to it now. But I’ll get some money together—real money—and it’ll all change. I’ll get a solicitor and get my daughter back. Perhaps my wife as well.”

“At least you’ve got a plan in place, something to work towards.”

“Yes, there is some light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s a bloody long tunnel. What about yourself? Any ‘significant others’ as they say?”

“Not really. I never stayed around long enough for them to become significant. Had a nice dog once. A border collie.” Glenn felt uncomfortable suddenly having to give account of himself to a friend. He was used to lying and covering up to the authorities, but friends were different. He changed the subject. “Give me a shout if the computer plays up again. I might be able to sort it without involving the techs,” he said.

Then Billy bounced in through the door and threw his yellow woolly hat onto his bed.

“Everybody had a good day?”

“We were just having some of this delicious free coffee before going to the canteen. You coming?”

Daniel picked up the two mugs and took them through to the sink to rinse them. Glenn followed him. Neither had finished their coffee.

“Yeah, why not? Nothing else in my social diary tonight.”

“I thought I might go to the library after dinner.” Daniel studied the map they had been given.

“You don’t really need to,” Billy told him. “You can download an e-book to your phone, but phones don’t work very well here for anything else. The man in the library will give you an e-reader, anyway.”

“Young man! That is not the same thing at all. Going to a library is a total experience. They have real books there. You can touch them, smell them,” Glenn protested.

“Not this one don’t. Well, it has a few books what the lads who was here before left behind, you know, like, their personal stuff, but it’s mostly computerised now. Books is too heavy to transport loads and loads of them just to keep nerds like you happy! Anyway there’s snake and kidney pie in the canteen tonight. I checked this morning. Everybody goes for that. We need to get down there before it’s all gone, innit? Then I got this crossword puzzle to get back to. It’s a real stinker! Don’t even understand most of the clues, let alone the answers.”

“Should we wait for Misery Guts, do you think?” Graeme was an unsociable bugger, but perhaps they should give him another chance.

“Nah. He don’t want to associate with the likes of us. He used to be an executive!”

Soon, the sky began to darken. Fourteen days of solid darkness, and artificial daylight inside. Then there followed fourteen days of daylight before the sky started to darken again, and it would all start over.

“Glenn!” Michael’s voice interrupted his reverie. “Would you step into my office a moment, please?”

He sounded quite formal.

“Problems, Michael?”

He waited until Glenn was inside the tiny office and closed the door.

“Nothing to worry about. Sit down a minute. Are you settling in all right?” He leaned forward in his seat.

“Yes. Yes, thanks. It’s all very—different. But, it’s good.”

“Think you’ll be able to stick it out till the end of the twelve months?”

That salesman smile again, just like Mr Goldblatt.

“I’ve worked in worse places, and for far less pay.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Yes, I think you’ve got what it takes. There is something I’d like to ask you, though. It’s about your mate Daniel. How well do you know him?”

Glenn pulled a face and shrugged. “We met at the initial induction. But we didn’t keep in touch. Next time I saw him was on the space shuttle. And, of course, now we’re in the same dormitory.”

“What do you know about him? His past history?”

Glenn shrugged again. “Nothing much. I know he’s got a sick daughter he’s worried about, but he never talks about his life back home at all, actually. Won’t everything be on his records?”

“Records can be altered. Or replaced.”

“Really? I never thought of that. I expect that’s why they’ve started microchipping.”

Compulsory for extra-terrestrial work, they had said, but he could see it would soon catch on everywhere. Vaccinations, illnesses, accidents, could all be recorded. Name of the doctor you’re registered with in case you have an accident. And no paperwork to get lost. Looking after you from cradle to grave.

He could see a time when it would become compulsory. Governments were like that, find—or maybe even cause—a threat, then tighten up security to protect you from it. But he didn’t say anything.

“And has he ever asked you about the work you are doing for us?” Michael continued.

“No. He said he had problems with his computer. Nothing about what I’m doing. I did once say I was counting paper-clips all day. He said so was he, but they were probably a different colour and we just laughed about it.”

“He’s never asked to use your computer when his crashed? You know you shouldn’t let anybody else use your equipment.”

“No. Just, like, what should he do?”

“He should have told me, that’s what he should have done.”

“He probably didn’t want to bother you. He didn’t need to report it to Tech Support because when he re-booted it, it was OK.”

“Right then, Glenn. Just one more thing; has he ever mentioned a man called Milenkovic?”

“I don’t think so. No. I’m sure I’d have remembered a name like that.”

“OK, Glenn. Thank you. That’s all for now, but keep our little chat to yourself. And if you think of anything I ought to know—”

“Of course.”

“Keep an eye on him. And make sure he’s drinking his coffee. It’s easy to get dehydrated in this artificial environment.”

Glenn went back to work puzzled. He re-ran the conversation with Michael in his mind. There was one thing that niggled him: Daniel’s computer had actually crashed a couple of times in the last week or so, but he’d only ever told Michael there had been ‘problems’ with it, and Daniel hadn’t reported it. How did Michael know it had actually been crashing? He wouldn’t mention it to Daniel, but it still bugged him. And he had completely forgotten today was blood-test day.

The second blood test was quick and painless, and the same medic came to collect him. His name was Pedro, as his ID badge announced.

The next morning, Graeme was missing from his bed, although nobody had heard him get up.

“Hey! What’s this? Gremlins have been in the night!” Billy raised something aloft and waved it in the air. “Who’s been a good boy, then?”

Glenn’s orange armband had been replaced by a yellow one. His probationary period was over—he would get tokens to buy water! He looked over at Daniel and caught the look of disappointment on his face. Daniel’s armband had not been changed.

Glenn did not see Graeme, either at work or in the canteen. He didn’t come back in the evening either.

“Wonder what’s happened to Misery Guts?” Daniel muttered. “Think he’s been kidnapped by aliens?”

“Nah! Who’d want to kidnap him?”

“Hopefully, someone living many light years away!” Billy paused before adding, “I don’t trust the guy. He’s a company spy, put in here to report back on us or something, innit?”

“Seriously, Billy. We haven’t seen him all day.”

Not that Glenn was worried. Curious was more the word.

“He’ll be back. Gremlins haven’t moved his stuff. Might be his blood test. They’ll keep him until he’s stable if there’s any problem.”

“Perhaps they’ll decide he might be happier somewhere else.”

“Nah. He’s not here to be happy! They’ll just fix him, and we’ll get him back.”

Chapter 4

Glenn kept his silence about the ‘little chat’ with Michael, but Daniel’s computer continued to crash on and off, and he still had an orange armband.

“You’ll need to report it if it keeps happening,” Glenn advised him one morning. He glanced at the bottle of water on Daniel’s desk. “You given up on that lovely free coffee?”

“Tastes like shit. I try to avoid it. You should do the same—this water is much better for you.”

There was a coolness in his voice now. Was he pissed off about the armband, or was it something else? Glenn hadn’t seen this side of Daniel before. If he had done something, he wished he could undo it.

Daniel started to spend most evenings in the library now. Apparently, he had got to know the man who was in charge, and he was helping him access stuff that he could not access otherwise. Whatever that might be. Perhaps he knew all the best free porn channels.

Billy usually spent his spare time lying on his bed doing crosswords, or in the cinema. Glenn had gone with him once but wasn’t in a hurry to do it again. It wasn’t like the old-fashioned cinema, where everybody sat together in neat rows with no headphones. Most of the booths were single, and the films were old twentieth century stuff—what they used to call ‘feel-good’. Sugary sweet and designed for children and old grannies, they were not to Glenn’s liking at all.

Bored and feeling isolated, he had to admit that even Misery Guts would have been an improvement, but there was no word about him.

It was the second week of the dark phase; Glenn had given up trying to think in terms of an Earthly calendar. He’d finished work for the day and was getting ready to go to the canteen. Daniel was in the library and Billy was finishing yet another crossword, when suddenly the door swung open, and Graeme entered.

“Hi, guys!”

Misery Guts was smiling!

“No Daniel? What’s he doing then? Gone to the canteen early before all the good stuff goes?”

“Hi, Graeme! Thought you’d moved out.” Billy didn’t look up from his puzzle book.

“No. Just had a little problem with my last blood test that needed sorting out. I’m fine now. Can’t wait to get back to work. Have you guys had dinner yet?”

“Er—no.”

How do I get out of this? But at least the man was making an effort. Perhaps he should do the same.

“Are you going now?” Glenn asked.

“Yes. I thought I’d check back here first, then get something to eat. Coffee?”

“Er—yes. OK.”

“Right! Here you go.” He poured out a mug of the sickly-sweet brew and handed it to Glenn.

“We didn’t know what had happened to you or if you were coming back or what,” Glenn said.

“That’s the problem with this place. They never tell you anything. How are you settling in then, Glenn? I see you’ve lost the Probationer armband. That was quick. Well done.”

“I was surprised too. Not that it makes much difference to anything.”

Graeme swallowed his coffee in two mouthfuls. “It makes a difference to the amount of surveillance you get, and you get tokens. Come on. It’s chicken Korma tonight.”

It was amazing how important food had become, when you’ve got nothing else to think about. But everything changes in this weird place. A week ago, Glenn could never have imagined going to the canteen with sullen, unsociable Graeme. But now he seemed more open, almost friendly. Different.

He still had his designer stubble look, but he wasn’t Graeme anymore. It was like talking to one of those machines you get on the phone. They say all the right things, but you know they don’t mean it.

“It’s this neurotransmitter called dopamine. It gets taken up too quickly and that causes depression. That’s what they told me, anyway.” Graeme explained without Glenn asking him. “I don’t really understand it, but the treatment worked. I feel really good now. Can’t wait to get back to work!”

“That’s great. They must have really good medical facilities here.”

“Oh, they have. You’d be amazed what these medical men can do when there’s nobody to say you mustn’t do it.”

After their meal, Graeme suggested they check out the cinema.

“OK. I’ve nothing else in my engagement book,” Glenn admitted. Nor in my excuse book!

They were waiting to be shown to a booth when Graeme said, “Look who’s here!”

Glenn looked where he was pointing. “It’s your mate Daniel, with that freak from the library! Looks like he’s well in there!”

Daniel was going into the booth next to them, with a rather androgynous-looking young man. He was shorter than Daniel’s six foot plus, and he seemed to be hanging on his every word.

“Daniel’s got himself a fancy boy!”

“Don’t think so. Daniel’s not like that.”

“You don’t know what this place does to a man.” Graeme gave a malicious chuckle.

“Of course—you’ve been here before, haven’t you?” Glenn asked.

“Me? No. This is my first time.”

“Oh. Sorry. My mistake, I thought you had. I know Billy has. He’s been really helpful, telling us things and everything.”

“Did he say anything about me? You can’t trust that Billy, you know.”

“You? No. He wouldn’t know anything, would he? Unless you knew him back home?”

“Back home?” Graeme made a sort of snorting noise. “I don’t think we’d have moved in quite the same circles, unless I employed him as a gardener once.”

“Is he into gardening? He never said.”

“That’s not what I meant. Oh never mind, let’s have a look at what films they’ve got.”

When they got back to the dormitory, Billy was into his crossword.

“We’ve been watching a Japanese horror film—with subtitles. Blood and guts everywhere,” Glenn announced.

“I didn’t go out,” Billy said. “Wanted a quiet night in. So I went to the canteen and came straight back. I’m stuck on this poxy crossword clue.”

Daniel didn’t join in the conversation. Glenn gazed over at him. Bloody marvellous! Just got Graeme behaving halfway like a human being, and then Daniel turns into a Trappist monk!

In the morning Graeme’s armband had been changed to purple. The deep purple of a probationer. The Gremlins—those mysterious little people who apparently kept things running behind the scenes—had been in the night, as Billy would say, and Graeme was now in Catering and Recreation.

“Hope you’re not in charge of making the coffee,” Billy said as Graeme slipped the armband onto his arm.”

“And if I am,” Graeme gave the new armband a pat, “I’ll make up a special batch specially for you!”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” Billy pulled on the faithful yellow hat and scarf and headed for the door. “Breakfast calls. Catch you guys later.”

Graeme followed close behind him, but not close enough to catch him up.

It left just Glenn and Daniel. Time to take the bull by the horns.

“Daniel, is something wrong?”

“No. Why?”

“You’re not yourself lately. Is it something I’ve done?”

Daniel sat down on his bed, then stood up again almost immediately, as though he had had second thoughts. “No, it’s not you, mate. It’s all a bit difficult to explain. There’s a lot going on in my head at the moment.” He sat down again and swirled his vitamin pills round in the little plastic cup while looking down at his feet. “I will tell you when the time is right. But I can’t tell you right now.” He swallowed his pills quickly. “When the time’s right.”

Soon after Glenn arrived at work, Michael called him into the office.

“So, Glenn. How’s it going?”

“Feel like I’ve been here all my life,” he said. Was that the right thing to say?

“Good-good-good. And how is Daniel getting on? No more computer problems?”

“Not that I know of. I told him, I’m no expert, if something goes wrong, he must contact Tech Support. If he’s had any more problems, I expect that’s what he’ll have done.”

“And apart from that, he seems to be OK?”

Glenn tried not to hesitate. “As far as I know. He hasn’t said anything. The only thing he worries about is his daughter.”

“We’ll have to put his mind at rest, then. No problem. And Graeme; is he all right?”

What is this? Do you think I’m a grass or something?

“Seems to be. He only came back last night.”

“Good-good-good. Let me know if anything happens that you think I ought to know. We must look after our men, and sometimes, you know,” that confiding voice, the leaning forward, “sometimes when there is a problem—a problem which I could probably sort out without it becoming official—I’m the last one to know about it.”

Glenn nodded and tried to look concerned. He, too, could fain sincerity. “I can see that might be a problem.” He smiled. “Of course. If I hear anything I think you should know I’ll tell you, Michael.”

“That’s all, then. For now.”

He got a funny look off Daniel as he walked past him on his way back to his workstation.

“Everything OK?” he asked.

As Glenn stopped to speak to him, he pressed the key that brought up the security screensaver and a hundred coloured fishes flowed onto his screen. Glenn could not see what he was working on.

“Yeah. No problems. Just wanted to know if I’m happy in my work and so on.”

“And are you?”

“Hilariously so! Catch you later.”

There’s too much going on here.

Glenn sat at his desk peering out through the window. It would soon be the light phase again, but he found the twenty-four hour night-time fascinating.

This place could get a man down, though! It was like bloody MI5 or something. Daniel’s got a problem, but he won’t talk about it. Billy hates Graeme, and Graeme says you can’t trust Billy. Daniel doesn’t trust Graeme. And Michael doesn’t trust Daniel and he wants me to spy on him—and on Graeme—who Daniel reckons is a ‘company man’ anyway. With all the surveillance equipment they’ve got here, why do they still need spies? Then the thought suddenly hit him; who’s Michael asked to spy on me?

“Glenn,” Daniel said as he was walking past with a sheaf of paperwork in his hand. “Are you having lunch or sandwiches at lunch break?”

“Sandwiches. Dinner tonight.”

“OK. See you seven-thirty in the canteen, if I don’t see you before.”

“You not going straight back to the dorm?”

“Nah, I’ve got to go to the library first.”

The library again! He might as well move in there.

Glenn slipped out of the office without Daniel seeing him. It was finishing time, but he noticed that Daniel was in no hurry to leave. He looked over at Michael’s office and saw that the door was shut. It might be a good idea to distance himself from Daniel in the work situation. Let Michael think they were less friendly than they really were, then perhaps he’d stop asking questions.

Michael’s door came open. “Daniel, have you got a moment before you go?”

“Sure.”

He watched the fish screensaver come up again on Daniel’s computer. Daniel didn’t look at him but went into Michael’s office and shut the door.

Glenn had a change of clothes with him in a small sports bag, so he went to the shower-room to take a long leisurely shower before returning to the dormitory, where he found Billy already there, lying on his bed in his usual position, frantically trying to erase a mistake from his crossword book.

“You OK, Billy?”

“Yeah. You any good at crosswords?”

“Dunno. Try me.”

“Right. Seventeen across. ‘Not as old as that mixed up Reno guy’. Seven letters.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“When it says, ‘mixed up’, or ‘confused’, it’s usually an anagram.”

“OK. Don’t bother. You confused me already. Do you really understand that crap?”

“Not really! It’s not the compiler I like.” He looked at the book cover to double check. “Nah! My mum got this one for me just before I left, and she got the wrong one. It’s something to do though, innit?”

“I suppose. Seen Daniel?”

“Nah. I been here since sixteen hundred and he’s not been back. Didn’t you leave together?”

“No. He was about to leave, then Michael called him into the office for something. We’re meeting up in the canteen tonight. He said he was going to the library straight from work, but I thought he’d come back here after.”

“Graeme said he’s got a fancy boy!” Billy sniggered.

It was the wake-up music again. Glenn wanted to turn over for a few extra minutes, but the gel in the bed was already becoming hard. He grabbed his wash bag and towel and headed for the shower. There was no sign of Graeme, but he wasn’t complaining. Billy was still half asleep, and there was a white envelope on the cabinet beside his bed. He was tempted to take a peek, but decided it was none of his business.

By the time Glenn got out of the shower, Billy was up, sitting on the edge of his bed, clutching his towel and waiting for his turn. The white envelope was no longer to be seen.

He met up with Daniel after work in the gym, where John, the facilitator, showed them the static cycling machines, and the backdrop scenery you could choose to view through a virtual reality helmet or on a huge screen on the wall. They looked through the scenarios while John was there but did not actually select one, or even mount the bikes once he was gone.

“Do you think we can turn this background music off?” Glenn asked. “It’s doing my head in!”

“I doubt it. It’s probably built into the walls!” Daniel quipped. “So, tell me. Have you had a good day at the office?”.

“Fantastic! The paper clips get more exciting every day.”

“Well, I’ve got some good news, anyway. I’m getting a video call with Tabitha tomorrow night after work. Would you like to come along and see her?”

“Yes, sure.”

He wrote down the time and the room number in the Video Suite and gave it to Glenn.

The next evening, Glenn clutched the piece of paper in his hand and wondered which way to go. He didn’t know his way around the Video Suite, but fortunately it wasn’t too big.

Room 5. That’s it. A red light flashed, ‘Cubicle in use’ above the door. He pushed the door, expecting to find Daniel inside. It opened slowly and reluctantly and stayed open after he had stepped inside. He immediately realised his mistake; it was not Daniel who sat at the desktop computer, but somebody shorter, stockier than his friend. He looked down at the piece of paper and realised his mistake immediately.

Shit! That’s not a 5, it’s a smeggin’ 8!

He stepped back, trying to close the still partially open door without anybody seeing him. But not before his eyes had caught the words on the massive wall screen; Hope you’re being a good girl for Nanny, Tabitha.

Tabitha’s Daniel’s daughter. Is this man monitoring the call? The man started typing immediately, and more words came up on the screen; Nanny took me on a hover trip on the river and …

The door finally finished its journey and clicked shut. The man looked up at the screen, made a single keystroke, and the wall screen went blank. He turned to one side, as though realising somebody was there, then Glenn saw him in profile: it was Michael!

“Sorry—wrong cubicle!”

Cubicle 8 was not far away. When Glenn entered it, Daniel was still there. The wall screen was blank except for the words ‘NO SIGNAL’ floating aimlessly around the screen like a goldfish on barbiturates.

“What’s happening? You finished your video call?”

“No.” Daniel swung round in his chair to greet him. “Signal failure. It happens quite often, apparently. The communication satellites get knocked off their course sometimes. We get affected by solar winds as well.”

“So did you speak to her at all?”

“Not a lot. She started telling me about some trip the Old Bag had taken her on, then we lost the signal.”

Nanny took me on a hover trip on the river and . . .

“So what happens now? Do you have to report it to somebody? Or do you wait for a reconnection?”

“No. The connection won’t come back tonight. I need to see Raphael and book another call. At least I know she’s OK.” He paused for a moment. “You don’t have children, do you, Glenn?”

It was almost an accusation.

“No. I had a vasectomy when I was volunteering overseas. Didn’t do me a lot of good, but I know a few guys got enhanced promotion because employers knew they had no commitments.” They hadn’t ever had this conversation before. “What is the problem with Tabitha? I mean, her health-care situation?”

“Come on. Let’s go to the gym for a while. The coffee’s not so bad there.”

Daniel switched off the cubicle light and they headed towards the gym.

“I was fully insured, but Tabitha’s mother wasn’t. I suppose there were a few reasons, really. For one thing, she used to smoke when she was in her teens. A lot of kids still did. Even when it was banned in public because we knew the dangers, new kids were still taking it up. And one of her brothers had been a drug user for a few years, so that made for a potentially inappropriate home environment. That sort of thing. She was offered an abortion when she got pregnant, but she refused. The government health service refused to cover things they considered to be ‘self-inflicted’, like drug addiction, climbing accidents, it all had to be private, as you know, and if you’re not working you can’t afford it.

“Anyway, she kept moving around, staying with different relatives, and somehow, she dropped out of the system. She never went to ante-natal clinics, and Tabitha was born at home, and delivered by a private midwife. So, of course, when she fell ill, we were in trouble from the start. My daughter had no right to treatment, because officially she didn’t exist. But in reality, the state had decreed that she would be too expensive, even before she was born. Then, when things couldn’t get worse, she was diagnosed with leukaemia.”

They both fell silent.

“I went into the wrong cubicle. Couldn’t read the number properly,” Glenn said as they reached the gym. “Michael was in there. And there was something about Tabitha on the wall screen. ‘Nanny took me on a hover trip—’, it said.”

“What? Just now, you mean?”

“Yes. Just before I found you.”

Daniel didn’t seem to see the relevance.

“I expect he was trying to get the signal back.”

“Yeah. Right.”

Chapter 5

Two days later, when Glenn returned to the dorm, the doors of Daniel’s wardrobe and locker were wide open. Both were empty. A coffee mug stood on the top of his locker and beside it, face down, lay his most treasured possession, the photo of his daughter. There was no sign of Graeme or Billy

He hurried back to the canteen. Pedro—the only person who might have the answer—had already left and there was nobody else except two bored black-clad Security men playing chess in a corner.

Eventually he found Billy emerging from the cinema.

“Daniel’s gone!” he blurted out.

“What do you mean ‘gone’? Calm down, mate. He can’t be ‘gone’, there’s nowhere to go to, is there?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “There was probably something wrong with his last blood test, and they’re sorting him out. Like they did with Misery Guts. Don’t worry, he’ll be OK. It happens all the time.”

Glenn took a deep breath and tried to calm down, but Daniel was his best mate, the one he came to the Moon with, his one connection with Earth. And people don’t just disappear.

“No. It’s not the same as Graeme. Daniel’s clothes are gone. Graeme’s stuff was still in his wardrobe all the time he was away, so we knew he was coming back.”

Billy scratched his head through his lucky yellow hat. “Don’t know what to say about that. Has he asked for a transfer to another department or anything?”

“No. He’d have told me if he had. I know he’s been having trouble with the computers.” Glenn pondered for a moment. Could he trust Billy?

“I think perhaps Michael was a bit concerned about him, he’s always asking me how he’s settling in and stuff. You’ve been here before, Billy. Do they usually uproot people like that?”

“Never seen it done like that before. It might just be temporary, like. Could be they are short-staffed somewhere else. But they’d tell him first, wouldn’t move him without telling him why. Usually they leave you in your same dorm for a while, anyway, when they move you to another job.” He pulled a face. “Like we’ve still got Misery Guts in our dorm, even though he’s not in our department. They only move you into another dorm when it’s definitely going to be permanent, like. They’d rather keep you where they first put you, if they can. It’s not so far to go in the morning if your dorm is in the same sector as where you’re working, and you’re with the same lot of blokes all the time. Makes for better bonding, so they say. But then,” he added thoughtfully, “if somebody is being disruptive, they’d move him. You couldn’t call Danny Boy disruptive, though. He’s a quiet sort of geezer.”

“Well, he’s got to be somewhere. You can’t simply walk off the edge of the Moon. Shall I ask Michael in the morning, do you reckon? Would he know where Daniel is?”

“Michael knows everything that goes on here, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to tell you.”

The soft night-time music, prelude to Lights Out, started to pervade the entire area.

“Come on. It’s Curfew. We need to get back, pronto.” Billy looked anxious as he hastened his steps in the direction of their dormitory. “Don’t want to get caught out here after Lights Out.”

“What happens if we do? Do we turn into pumpkins at midnight?”

“Ice lollies more likely. All the lights are extinguished, and you can’t imagine how black it is. They say, ‘you can’t see a hand in front of your face’, well, here it’s true. You’d be stuck here all night, and the temperature-control is shut down to a minimum so it’s like a couple of degrees above freezing, I’d guess. And if you do survive that, you’d get one hell of a bollocking in the morning, plus extra surveillance and loss of privileges.”

Back in the dormitory, the same music was playing, and the lights had dimmed slightly already. They could hear Graeme splashing about in the shower. Billy checked what had been Daniel’s area. Nothing of him remained to show that he had ever been there. Even the photograph of little Tabitha had now gone.

“Gremlins have been, then,” Billy commented. Night-time medication was waiting for the other three, but there was nothing on Daniel’s locker.

“What do you think? Should I ask Michael tomorrow, or will he say it’s none of my business?” he asked again.

“Hurry up in there, Graeme! There’s a queue here!” Billy called.

“Yeah, yeah! I’m coming!”

“Billy. Answer me. Should I speak to Michael tomorrow?”

Billy flicked his finger across his mouth in a quick zipping movement. He looked furtively in the direction of the shower before saying, “Don’t worry, it’ll all sort itself out in the morning. Everything looks better after a good night’s sleep.”

He shot Glenn another conspiratorial look in Graeme’s direction before grabbing his towel and rattling on the door of the shower-room.

Was Daniel back? It was unlikely, but it was Glenn’s first thought on waking. It was just possible it had all been a bad dream and Daniel was lying in the next bed as usual.

Graeme didn’t refer to what had happened at all. He acted as though it was perfectly normal for somebody to go to work in the morning and not come back. In the canteen, he chatted away (‘the new improved Graeme’, Daniel had said) as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Glenn waited until they had all collected their breakfast from the service area and Graeme was fetching everybody coffee from the machine. Then he tackled Billy again.

“What do you think, Billy? Should I ask Michael what’s happened?”

Billy put his elbow on the table and casually looked around. He cupped his chin in his hand, covering his mouth with his fingers as though he feared that somebody might be lip-reading their conversation.

“Let’s put it like this,” he stared into the distance at nothing in particular. He did not even look at Glenn. “Michael is management, and it’s his job to know what happens. Trust me. If somebody farts up here, give it five minutes and he’ll know what it smells like. Daniel is in his Sector—well he was until recently, perhaps he still is—so there’s no way anybody is going to move him without Michael’s agreement and approval. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to tell you about it. If he tells you anything, it’ll be exactly what he wants you to know, not necessarily the full story. It’s a waste of time asking the Angels anything. If they want you to know, they’ll tell you.”

“So what should I say? I can’t exactly pretend I haven’t even noticed my best mate is no longer sharing a dormitory with us.” Glenn tried to make light of it. “He’ll think I’m on drugs and send me for another blood test!”

“Just play it cool. Management here wants everybody to be compliant, as they call it. To accept everything and say nothing. Don’t complain. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Pretend you believe that they know best. Think 1984, Brave New World. Pretend you believe everything they tell you, keep your nose clean and at the end of the year you’ll be rich; end of five years, you can retire. Cause trouble, stir the shit, and you’ll never be seen again. And I never said anything, right? Here’s Graeme with the coffee.”

Back at his desk, Glenn stared at Daniel’s empty workstation a few positions in front of him. The computer screen wasn’t switched on, and the chair was tucked neatly in under the desk. He walked up to Michael’s office and knocked the door.

“Come in!”

He entered and waited to be asked to sit down. It didn’t happen.

“Michael, I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but you did ask me to tell you if anything happened that you should know about.”

“Of course. What’s the problem?”

“It’s Daniel. I think you should know that he didn’t come back to the dorm last night. And, well, he’s my mate, but he’s not supposed to be out after Curfew.”

He didn’t mention the empty locker and cabinet. If they hadn’t been left with the doors open, he wouldn’t have known anyway.

“Thank you, Glenn. I did know, but thank you for coming to me about it. I will look into the matter.” He smiled his most patronising smile.

“I thought you ought to know.” Glenn: 1, Big Brother: Big fat zero.

Back at his desk, Glenn shuffled a few papers and tried to look busy, but he could not concentrate. What the hell was going on? It made sense, what Billy had said; pretend you accept that management know best. Michael had shown no concern for Daniel’s absence, but he had positively glowed with self-importance because Glenn had reported the matter. It had been a good move.

But why all the stupid fuss about being back in your dorm on time anyway? If you want to risk hypothermia it should be up to you. We’ve all been through the selection process; we’re not kids.

The day dragged on as though it would never end. Glenn kept expecting to see Daniel walk in, laugh and offer a stupid excuse, or even for somebody else to take over his desk. The numbers on the wall clock scarcely seemed to move.

Glenn wished now that he had opted for lunch in the canteen, rather than a sandwich, but at least if he stuck to his usual routine, Daniel would know where to find him when (if?) he came back.

Daniel’s disappearance had become all important. Although they didn’t really have that much in common, they’d started out on this crazy adventure together, and until now, they’d stayed together.

Graeme was still making an effort to be sociable, since his neurotransmitters had been adjusted, or whatever it was they did to him, but both Billy and Daniel had implied that they didn’t trust him. Billy was good-hearted, but pretty shallow. Not somebody Glenn would normally choose for a mate. But then, there was nothing normal about this set-up.

His shift finished; Glenn decided to visit the places that Daniel usually frequented. The library was first stop. Daniel spent a lot of time in the library, and the section called ‘Customer Assistance’ looked promising. The young man Graeme had called a freak was there, sitting at a computer.

“Excuse me,” Glenn attracted his attention. “I’m looking for my mate, Daniel. Tall, skinny, blond hair? I know he comes in here a lot, and I wondered if he had been in this evening.”

“Daniel?” He assumed a thoughtful look. “Oh, I know. In Human Resources. No, I haven’t seen him today. Can I give him a message if he comes in?”

“It’s not important.” Why did he say that? “Just tell him Glenn was looking for him.” The young man looked at Glenn, then with a slow and systematic stare, looked him up and down as though he was an item he was evaluating carefully before he bought it.

“Sure, I’ll tell him. If he comes in.”

Back at the dormitory, he caught up with Billy. He had already showered and changed and was engrossed in another crossword.

“Any news?” He looked up and put his crossword book down.

“No. I reported his absence to Michael this morning. Thought it was the best thing to do.”

Billy nodded.

Glenn continued. “He already knew, as you said. But he thanked me for telling him. I think that got me a couple of Brownie points. I called in at the library after work. Do you know that rather wimpy guy that works there?”

“You mean ‘Terry the Twat’?”

“Probably. Graeme called him a freak, and he was a bit weird. We saw Daniel with him at the cinema recently. Looking up at Daniel like a devoted cocker spaniel, he was! Anyway, he hasn’t seen him today, he said. Seemed genuine. Gave me the once over, though.” Glenn grinned as he remembered.

“Probably jealous. He doesn’t have many friends. Mind you, Graeme has been spending a lot of time in the library since he came back.”

“Billy, you’re well informed about how things work around here. Are people allowed to visit other people’s dormitories, if they’ve been transferred? If Daniel has been moved out, for whatever reason, could he be banned from even visiting us?”

“Only if they’d been in trouble, far as I know. If any manager or section leader saw you had the wrong armband for the Sector, he might ask what you was doing there. But—” He stopped and thought for a moment. “Of course, Daniel’s still got a Probationer armband, hasn’t he? They’d definitely stop him in that case, even if only to ask him where he was going. He wouldn’t be in trouble, though. They’d only be trying to help him, in case he was lost.”

“That’s another thing. Why do you think it is he’s still got a Probationer armband?”

“Not for me to say. It’s usually either ‘cos you’re not settling in like they want, or ‘cos your work’s not up to scratch.”

The computer problems? Michael knew all about that. Is there anything Michael doesn’t know all about?

“Basically, once they’ve got you up here, they do what they like with you. You’ve got no say in the matter. No rights. It’s like being back at school—no, worse than that. Like the army! The ‘voluntary’ bit stops as soon as you volunteer,” Glenn said.

“Just close your eyes and think of the money. We all get used to it eventually.”

Although Glenn looked for Daniel every evening in the canteen, it was as though he had never existed. He gave up asking people if they had seen his friend, as nobody ever had. Most of them didn’t even know—or care—who he was.

For three weeks there was no sign of Daniel, then, “Glenn! Glenn! Over here!”

Glenn scarcely heard the voice amongst all the cacophony of the canteen, but Daniel was three places behind him in the queue. He looked well, and he gave a cheerful thumbs up, as though nothing had happened. He still wore a Probationer’s armband, but now it was bright green, Health and Safety, Sector D.

Glenn moved back in the queue to join him.

“Where the hell have you been, Danny Boy?” Glenn landed him a hearty slap on the back. “We’ve been fucking worried about you, you rat-bag! Why didn’t you let us know you were OK?”

“I’m on nights now, but I’ve got a day off today. And there was so much to take in. It all happened so quickly. Michael told me after work that they were transferring me, and they did. Just like that.”

They selected their food and headed for their usual place by the window. Daniel had opted for bottled water, rather than coffee.

“How can you get that? You’re still a Probationer. You don’t get tokens.”

“You ask nicely, and they give you a tab until you do get tokens. Then you pay it off. Easy-peasy!”

“So, how come they moved you like that? So sudden, not a word to anybody? Did you ask to be moved? I know you had a few problems with the computers.”

“They were short-staffed in Health and Safety. They needed somebody else. So they probably checked through our backgrounds, I guess, until they found somebody with relevant experience. I’d had First Responder training when I was volunteering, so they pulled me out.”

He ate with enthusiasm, seeming completely unaware of the consternation he had caused amongst his dormitory-mates.

“I like it on nights. It’s quiet, and there’s no pressure.”

For a while they both ate in silence, then Daniel said, “There’s something I need to talk to you about, though.”

“Do you want to come back to the dormitory?”

“No. The dormitory has sound recording as well as visual, but there’s too much background noise in here for the recorders to pick anything up.”

How did he know that?

“I’ve been talking to this guy in the library, and he’s told me quite a lot. Like what to do about getting water without tokens,” he added with a laugh.

“Always good to have friends in high places, I suppose.”

“This one has proved very useful. I’ve been doing some research. Look, I don’t want to say too much now—!” Again that paranoid glance over the shoulder, that Glenn had seen so often since working for Goldblatt. “Can we meet up later?”

“This evening?”

“Yes. I do need to talk to you. Do you know how to get to the observatory?”

“What observatory? I didn’t know there was one.”

“It’s a place where you can go to observe the stars—or the beautiful lifeless landscape. It’s like up on the roof, but all closed in, of course. There’s just a couple of telescopes and a few seats. Like everything else here, it’s a novelty at first, but unless you’re really into that sort of thing, once you’ve seen it, you’ve seen it.”

“Never knew it existed.”

Daniel took a serviette from the glass on the table. “I’ll draw you a map of where it is. You need to go to the central hub. Look.” He started sketching on the serviette and gave it to Glenn. “Say, about nine suit you?”

Glenn looked at the wall clock.

“Yeah. That’s OK.”

“Right. See you later. Gotta get going.” He paused a moment. “Glenn,” he said, “don’t say anything to anybody else. About meeting up tonight, I mean.”

With that, he picked up his plate and cutlery and left.

“I’ve seen Daniel!” Glenn told Billy later in the dormitory. “He was in the canteen.”

“He’s OK, then? I knew he would be. Nothing much happens up here.”

“He’s been transferred to Health and Safety. Seems he had some previous experience that they needed. They just called him into the office as he finished work and told him he was going to be moved.”

“Typical!”

“Yeah. He’s on nights—permanently, I think, but he seems to like it. It means we won’t be seeing much of him.”

Why didn’t Daniel want him to say anything about meeting him later?

“Never mind. We’ll bump into each other sometime or other. And here’s always days off.”

“Suppose so. Hope so, he’s a good guy. I like him.”

“Not half as much as his little friend in the library does!” Graeme quipped. “Right. I got to go. Things to do, people to see.”

Billy smirked as Graeme rushed out through the door.

“He loves to feel important, that geezer!”

At a quarter to nine, Glenn got ready to leave. Graeme was not back from wherever, but Billy was still resting on his bed, listening to music through his headphones.

“You off out then?”

“Yeah. Off to the library.”

This whole cloak-and-dagger stuff seemed vaguely childish. But there was just something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Perhaps Daniel knew something he didn’t.

He found the observatory easily enough. It was actually signposted quite well; but he had never noticed it before. Daniel was already there, fiddling with one of the telescopes, which he abandoned as soon as Glenn arrived, and they found themselves seats.

“So, what’s this all about?”

“There is something I haven’t told you,” Daniel went on, glancing around from time to time, as though he expected somebody to interrupt them. “I keep getting this weird feeling that I’m trying to remember something. Not that I’ve been here before, but every so often, something feels familiar. I tried to check out a few things, but the blinking computers kept crashing all the time, because I didn’t have the right password. I will find out, and then perhaps it will make sense. But at the moment, I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

“What do you mean, ‘trying to remember something’?”

“Let’s say they’re not telling us the way it is. It’s like there’s a sort of hidden agenda—don’t look at me like that! I’d like to get to see that mining facility that’s supposed to be here, for one thing. And how come—? Oh, never mind.”

Suddenly it all fitted in.

“Well, I think Michael was on to you, Danny Boy.” Glenn found himself looking around equally furtively. “He’s been asking me a lot of questions about you. Perhaps you should cool it a bit?

“I’m away from Michael now, and I’m doing more hands-on stuff in the sickbay. It’s good. If I want to use the computer for anything—personal—I go to the library.”

“So what are you looking for?”

“Remember what Trev was saying? About the non-compliants?” Daniel spoke slowly, constantly watching the stairs for anybody else coming up.

“The work-shy and the criminals?”

“Yes. Where are they? We’re sitting at our desks in this sanitised artificial gravity, artificial daylight cocoon. We’ve never seen any of them, though. Where are they? Did they even come here? There were loads of them at the induction. How many could you get on a big shuttle? Fifteen plus crew? They’d have died of old age before they all got here, at that rate. Where is this mining camp that we are supposed to be supporting logistically, anyway?”

“They’re unskilled manual workers. They were all criminals or long-term unemployed. They’d be engaged in different stuff from us, and the Mineral Extraction Facility is miles away. I’ve seen the map, and that’s where they’re based. They couldn’t bring them back here every night. It just wouldn’t work.”

“Glenn! They were under armed guard, mate. Do you think they’ll be given a life-changing amount of money when they get back? They didn’t even get the free lunch.”

There was a passion in Daniel’s voice Glenn hadn’t heard before.

“Don’t you think you’re getting a bit paranoid?”

“No. I’ve started seeing things a bit clearer since I stopped drinking their coffee. But we’ll come back to that later. Just listen to me a minute. This whole set-up stinks. There was one thing wrong with that Induction back on Earth—where was the success story?

“Where was the guy who’d finished the contract, made a fortune and came back to Earth and bought a brewery? He should have been there, telling his tale. There’s nobody saying, ‘Been there, done that, and here’s the T-shirt to prove it.’ But there’s been plenty of bad stuff on social media. Relatives of people who’ve been forced by the government to accept employment with the Goldblatt Institute and never been seen again.”

“Perhaps he did come back to Earth and bought a brewery,” Glenn suggested. “He made shed loads of money and didn’t want to be inundated with begging letters from relatives! Anyway, Billy got his money when he worked for them before. He was positively gloating about seeing all the money in his bank account. His retirement fund, he called it.”

“Billy’s not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, is he? Anybody could fool him.” He looked at Glenn. “You think I’m paranoid, don’t you?”

Glenn shook his head slowly. “To be honest, I don’t know what to think. The jury’s still out on this one, as they say. But there’s nothing we can do about it. We might not like the idea of these people being mistreated, conned, whatever it is they’re doing to them, but there’s nothing we can do about it.

“I rather think the actual crime only comes in if they are not paid, or not repatriated at the end of their contract. Until then, they might have a rough time of it, but no crime has been committed. And by then, we’ll be long gone. We don’t get to see them, let alone talk to them. We don’t know any of their names to check up. Maybe they didn’t even come here. Like you said, none of them was at the free lunch.”

“OK. That’s fair enough. But I intend to find out more about this. There must be something to it. You don’t go to these lengths simply to get cheap labour, unless a hell of a lot of people are involved, and it’s really going to be worth the effort. It’s like there’s some sort of undercurrent, something going on below the surface.”

“You might be right, but don’t stick your neck out, Danny Boy, else you’ll get your head chopped off. Like, don’t shake the tree until you know what’s up there. As I said, Michael’s got your card marked.”

“Michael’s nothing to do with me anymore. My new manager is Raphael. He’s been really helpful, and he’s arranging for me to speak to my daughter, so I don’t have to worry about her while I’m away.”

“Raphael? What sort of a name is that?”

“It’s their system, apparently, all the managers are called after archangels.”

“Like they’re one step down from God? Most managers think that anyway, they just don’t bother to change their names—you call them ‘sir’, it’s easier. But this Raphael, he’s OK, is he?”

“Yes. Totally different from Michael. Things are looking up for me at the moment. But there’s something not quite right. There’s stuff from the past that I can’t quite remember, and I know I should. And it’s bugging me like hell!”

Glenn waited for Daniel to say more, but he lapsed into silence. He got up and walked over to the telescope and started fiddling with the controls again.

Eventually, he said, “But seriously, cut out the coffee. They put something in it, I know they do. I’ve no idea what, but it keeps you compliant, stops you questioning what goes on. Stick to the bottled water. Trust me, Glenn. Look, I’ll tell you what—try it for a week, and you’ll feel the difference. We don’t think for ourselves anymore since we’ve been here. It’s all done for us, from waking up in the morning to going to bed at night.” He paused for a moment, as if waiting for Glenn to speak. “I’m serious. I never questioned anything until I cut out the coffee. Try it and see the difference. Just make sure you take a big coffee hit about half an hour before your next blood test. And don’t say anything to anybody else.” Another furtive glance around him. “I think we better split up now.”

“Yeah. It was good to see you again, Danny. Take care. I’ll think about what you said, and I’ll keep my ears open. And I will cut out the coffee and see what happens. I never drink much anyway. It’s too sweet and I don’t like it. That Raphael sounds a decent sort, though.” He turned to go, then stopped. “How long have you been in Health and Safety now?”

Daniel gave a slight frown. “Three, no, four days,” he said.

Chapter 6

Daniel had seemed pretty level-headed up until now.

Glenn put the e-book down on his locker and noticed his night-time sedation waiting for him. Could it be true that they put stuff in the coffee, to drug the workers and keep them docile and obedient? They were always encouraging you to drink it, and it definitely did taste disgusting. He’d always assumed that was because they were still using sugar, recently a ‘banned additive’ back home.

Shit! That first induction back home—how long did Sidney Goldblatt really speak for? What did he actually say? People were falling asleep in their seats there. He and Daniel were laughing at them. He didn’t think he’d fallen asleep himself, although there were kind of gaps in his memory.

He tried to read a bit more, but his mind was racing, and he couldn’t concentrate, going over the same paragraph several times and still not taking it in.

If the coffee was supposed to do things to you, why was he not been affected by it? Perhaps he hadn’t drank enough. He’d bought water quite often since he’d started getting tokens. Maybe that was it. Or, on the other hand, perhaps Daniel was talking a load of paranoid bullshit.

But one thing was undeniable—Daniel had been away for at least three weeks, and he thought it was three or four days.

A door banged open suddenly.

“You all right then, Glenn?”

It was Graeme. Back from the library, probably—his new evening haunt.

“Yes. I was just thinking.”

He sat down on the bed next to Glenn’s—Daniel’s old one. It had been made up again, clean, new bedding, painfully correct, as though done by an ancient hospital orderly.

Graeme got up again and walked over to the coffee machine. “Coffee?” he asked.

“No thanks. I’ve just had one.” He was getting quite good at lying.

Graeme poured himself one, then sat back down on Daniel’s bed.

“Do you fancy going to the gym, perhaps a couple of nights a week?”

“I’m not much of a one for energetic things, to be honest.”

“Well, I wouldn’t bother normally.” Graeme sipped his coffee. “Thing is, all we do is sit at a computer all day—well, you do. I’m a bit more active in the kitchen, but five minutes’ walk to the dormitory, five minutes to the canteen, it’s all designed for maximum efficiency, easy access to everywhere. But we never get any exercise. We’ll all put on at least two stone before we get back home! What do you reckon?”

Glenn put his e-book away in his locker. The music had started up—the prelude to Lights Out.

“I guess you’re right. I hadn’t thought about it like that. It’s not as though we can go for a jog around the block, is it?” He looked out the window and laughed. “OK. I’m up for it.”

“Even if it’s only one evening a week. Actually, they have a sort of treadmill thing, a jogging machine if you like, and there’s a screen, and you can pick the app for what sort of scenery you want. It’s cool. The speed varies with where you’re meant to be running.”

Then Billy burst through the door, out of breath. “Thought I was gonna be late for Curfew.”

The lighting clicked down a stage dimmer.

“We were talking about going to the gym one evening a week,” Glenn told him, “seeing as we never get any proper exercise.”

Billy pulled a face, just discernible in the low light. “I’ll think about it!”

Glenn reached for his night-time sedation before slipping under the duvet. The bed had already started to soften up under his weight.

What a change there had been in Graeme! Once he had been sullen, downright unpleasant, really. Now he was chatty, friendly, trying to get his dorm mates involved in doing things as a group. Not exactly Glenn’s favourite person, but he was certainly easier to live with.

Could they have really designed something to modify people’s behaviour to that extent? Whatever they’d done to Graeme when they took him away, he certainly came back a changed man. But Daniel? What had they done to him? Gone for three weeks and thought it was four days.

He started to feel light-headed as the sleeping pill kicked in. Light-headed and floaty. It was quite a pleasant feeling. Almost like being drunk, and you didn’t have to worry about getting home. I suppose there’s a drug for everything, if you look for it, he found himself thinking, as he blissfully drifted off to sleep.

Glenn was collecting his evening meal from the canteen when he caught sight of the man from Health and Safety, Pedro. He went over and joined him.

“You’ve got my mate Daniel in your Sector now, haven’t you?”

“Daniel?” he seemed to ponder for a moment. “Oh, yes. I know him—tall, skinny guy. Don’t see him very much though. He’s on permanent nights. I see him when we change over shifts though. He seems to be settling in OK. I’ll tell him I’ve seen you.”

Glenn poured out his water into a glass. “I don’t like that coffee. It’s too sweet.” He waited for a response from Pedro.

“You should try to get used to it if you can. It’s good for you. It contains extra vitamins.”

The first suggestion he had ever heard that there was any reason to drink it other than to stop you getting dehydrated. Glenn raised his eyebrows.

“I thought that was what we got in the morning. Do we need more? We get a good, varied diet here. I tell you, I eat better here than I ever did back home.”

“Some vitamins are better given in liquid form. The process of making them into pills destroys their efficacy.”

Pull the other one – it’s got bells on!

Glenn didn’t know enough about medicine to argue, especially with somebody in Health and Safety, but he did consider himself a good judge of bullshit.

“Amazing!” was all he managed to say with a straight face. “I’ll make sure I drink more of it, even if I have to force myself.”

He searched his mind for something else to say. Something to talk about, with somebody you have nothing to talk about to.

Finally, he said, “Is this your first stint here? What did you do before?”

“I was a psychiatric nurse in a secure hospital.”

“Right! So you’re used to all the rules and regulations. Security, personal safety.”

“Oh yes. Rules and regulations, violent patients and shit money. You take a home-made knife off a serial killer to stop him stabbing you, and he makes a complaint against you. It goes on your record, however stupid it is. His solicitor says you were interfering with his human rights! He knows he won’t win, but it gets him a few visits from bleeding-heart, do-gooder lawyers and a couple of days out.” He took a big swallow of coffee. “This is a holiday camp by comparison, believe me. And all the rules are for our own good, so I don’t mind. The managers here are a good crowd. They don’t expect us to do anything they wouldn’t do themselves. And I’ll have a healthy bank account when it’s time to go home.”

It was like talking to somebody who had recently found Jesus. Everything Pedro said contained a miniature sermon. Another Billy in the making.

“Absolutely,” Glenn nodded enthusiastically. “It’s the only way a place like this could function, after all.”

That sounded convincing. Nobody else seemed to share Daniel’s conspiracy theories. Most people were quite happy to be here. It was a marvellous place, a wonderful job, and they were all going to get rich. Billy was the same. Even Graeme, since he was on different medication, was happy with his lot, and had started chatting to Terry in the library, instead of taking the piss behind his back. Daniel was the only one to see anything strange about the set-up. And he had been moved to another section.

What the hell? So perhaps they do use forced labour in the mines, he told himself—so what? How else did they build the Great Wall of China back on Earth? These people had no other source of income, since the government had tightened up on unemployment benefits, and they would starve or take to a life of crime if they were not allocated work.

Back in the dormitory again, it was just himself and Graeme. Billy was off somewhere, and Daniel’s bed had still not been filled.

“I’ve had my assessment with my new manager this afternoon,” Graeme announced. “And my blood test. I think it went OK.”

Glenn sat down on the empty bed that had been Daniel’s. “That’s good. You’re obviously acclimatising well now. I was talking to Pedro from Health and Safety in the canteen. Once you’ve done the round of gym, library, cinema, there’s not much to do here, really, is there?” he said.

Graeme laughed. “You’re not here to be entertained, young man. You’re here to get rich!”

“It’s all very well for you to say that,” Glenn said tentatively, “but how do we know we will get paid at the end of it? The company could go bankrupt, and we wouldn’t even know about it. We never get news from Earth.”

Perhaps he shouldn’t have said that. Let’s make a joke of it.

“Sidney Goldblatt could have had a heart attack and died the day after we got here, for all we know. Or he could have got religion and given all his assets to charity, or run off with a lap-dancer, or—!”

“Don’t worry. It won’t happen.” Graeme chuckled loudly. “He’s not a lone philanthropist, trying to save the world. There’s a consortium of bankers, scientists, top politicians and financial experts behind him. They’ve got their own interests as well, but they all work together in the long run. It’s like an Old Boys’ Club. If Goldblatt was threatened with bankruptcy, at least ten men would be queueing up to buy him out and carry on the work. Too many people with too much to lose.

“But it won’t happen. The market for Helium 3 is rapidly expanding. That’s where the future lies, and they know it. Future exploration of space depends on—,” Graeme stopped suddenly. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“Is that what they’re doing at the mining site? Helium 3?”

“Mainly they’re excavating more tunnels. Base Camp 2 is all underground.”

“Really? How’s that?”

“Most of the tunnelling was already here before Sidney Goldblatt’s people arrived, and nobody knows who excavated it. They want to finish the underground tunnel between here and Base Camp 2, so they won’t need to use the Surface Roving Vehicles, which is a shame, because I wanted to get trained up as a driver.”

Graeme was obviously in a talkative mood!

“Was that your line of work before, then, banking, finance? You seem to know a lot about that sort of thing,” Glenn asked.

“It was my profession at one time. To cut a long story short, I had too much money and too little to do with it and I got into a bit of trouble. I got involved—quite unintentionally—with something I shouldn’t have. But fortunately, my uncle is one of this Old Boys’ Club, so they had to help me out.”

“Wow! Who’d have thought it? What a crazy mixed-up bunch we all are here.”

“I suppose we all need this place as much as it needs us.”

Glenn nodded over to a control panel on the wall above the coffee machine. “Billy was listening to music the other day. Proper music, not the wake-up in the morning and the stuff that comes on just before Lights Out. I meant to ask him, but I forgot. How do you get it to play music?”

“No problem.”

Graeme walked over and poured two mugs of coffee as though without thinking about it. Glenn went over to join him.

“Hasn’t anybody showed you how to do it? Here. See where it says ‘Select’? You just go up or down until you find something you like. Press ‘Select’, and it gives you more music in that style.”

He demonstrated how it worked, switching through three or four different styles of music and back again to ‘Off’. See?”

“I tried that before, but it didn’t work.”

“Ah. When did you try it, though? What time of day?”

“Not sure. It was one evening, quite late. Nobody else was here, and I got bored, so I thought I’d give it a try, but nothing happened.”

“That’s why. Too late. It would be on default. You can listen to what you like most times, but you can’t over-ride Reveille and Lights Out. You sleep when they want you to, and you get up when they want you to. That’s how it works here.” He laughed and took a mouthful of coffee.

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you, Graeme? How many times?”

Graeme rubbed his permanently stubbly chin. “Er—” He chewed his bottom lip, a thoughtful look on his lined face. “Two—or maybe three times. Not sure. It was a long time ago.”

“So long ago you can’t remember? You’re getting old, mate!” Another one who has problems remembering.

“You know how it is. When you’ve seen it, you’ve seen it. After a while it’s all much the same. Perhaps I am getting old. Forty-two, I am. An old man in a culture obsessed with youth. Past my sell-by date as far as most employers are concerned, I’m afraid!” He swallowed the rest of his coffee. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“OK. After you, then.”

As Graeme headed for the shower, Glenn took the opportunity to pour his coffee down the sink. He didn’t quite believe what Daniel had said, but—you never know.

The next day, he found Pedro waiting for him in the canteen.

“I told Daniel I’d spoken to you last night,” Pedro said. “He says he’ll meet you in the gym at eight-thirty tonight. If you can’t make it, then tomorrow, same time. He’s got a couple of study days!”

“Great!” Glenn tried to sound as casual as possible. “The guys in my dorm have been saying for a while that we’re all going to turn into slobs, sitting at a computer all day and never getting any exercise. It’s not like we can go out for a brisk walk, is it?”

“Very true. We need to look after ourselves.”

“I hate exercise!” Glenn complained when Daniel finally arrived, ten minutes late. “What am I doing here?”

“It’ll do you good. And it’s private; we can’t be overheard. Look at this set-up.” He waved his hand in the direction of the equipment. “You can jog or cycle, and there’s this massive screen, see, where you choose the sort of terrain you want to be travelling through.”

“Yeah, Graeme said something about that.” He stepped back and scrutinised the nearest static cycle as though it presented some sort of threat. “It reminds me of one of those medieval torture machines. I even heard they’ve got a treadmill here!”

“Come on! Get your endorphins going!”

They eventually opted for cycling. At least they’d get to sit down!

“So what’s new?” Glenn swiped in with his ID card and looked through the various settings as Daniel pressed buttons.

“So how’s Health and Safety?” Glenn asked him.

“Brilliant. Compared with working for Michael, anything’s brilliant, though. Raphael is so different. It shows, you don’t have to be a pain in the arse to be in charge. I’m actually learning stuff,” he said. “Like using new equipment. Advanced First Responder stuff. I’ve even been over to Base Camp 2 for a day when they were short of medics. I might get a chance to get a permanent transfer, but that’s unofficial, so not a word. It’s brilliant, though. I can use my brain again instead of staring at a computer all day. But it means a lot of studying. And it’s such a relief to know Tabitha is OK, and her insurance is taken care of. Raphael says I’ll get a chance to learn about radiography if I carry on the way I’m doing.”

“X-rays and stuff? That’s good,” Glenn said. He looked at the selection of themes. “Let’s cycle through the Sahara Desert. Slowly.”

The screen in front of them showed an endless expanse of sand. They hoisted themselves onto the static bicycle frames.

“Want to use the virtual reality helmets?” Glenn asked.

Daniel looked around casually. There were only three other men there and they were over the other side of the gym, doing strenuous looking things with weights.

“No. You can’t talk with them on, and the screen’s best when there’s two of you.”

Glenn nodded. They started up their bikes and the screen started moving.

“You still staying off the coffee?” Daniel asked.

How could Daniel’s mind swing between love and hate for the place? One minute it was ‘Don’t drink the coffee, they’re trying to drug us all!’ then everything was marvellous.

“I am, actually. Like I said, I don’t like it, but I’m keeping quiet about it. If your theory is right, I don’t want to draw anybody’s attention to the fact that I’m not drinking it. I always have a cup with my dinner; I just don’t drink it. But I don’t make a big thing about not drinking it.”

“Good thinking. How about Graeme and Billy?”

“Billy thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. Mr Goldblatt can do no wrong. His personal saviour. Graeme, well, I really don’t know. Billy says he doesn’t trust him. Company man, he says. But then Billy’s more of a company man than anybody. Graeme’s a lot different since he came back. You know, friendlier, chattier, but I wouldn’t tell him anything I didn’t want to go any further. By the way, what’s Helium 3? Any idea?”

“Er, something to do with thermonuclear reactors, I think. Not quite sure. Why?”

“Something Graeme said. Is Goldblatt involved in extracting it?”

“No. Don’t think so. No, we’d have heard about it if they were. It’s probably platinum and stuff, as far as I know. Graeme’s probably got it wrong.”

“He used to be a banker. Did you know that? Quite high up, I think. Blotted his copy book somewhere along the line, though, and can’t get another job.”

“Takes all sorts.” Daniel broke off as if he had suddenly remembered something. “Anyway, want to hear my good news? It’s all sorted now! I’ve had another video call with Tabitha. She seemed really well, and more chemo has been scheduled. She told me to work really hard to keep up the payments to the doctor, and thanked me because she was feeling so much better now. Her birthday party is planned for next week, and she was telling me who would be coming. The Old Bag’s got it all arranged, so I’ve gotta behave myself, haven’t I? Don’t want her on my case.”

Apart from that, there was nothing new; he was still on nights, still liked his new job, and, yes, they would go to the gym again. Soon. Glenn nodded every so often.

“Tomorrow I get another video call. Eight o’clock. Don’t know what time that will be in California, though. Time here is complete fiction, but they have to keep count of it somehow, I suppose. I only hope she’s home when I call—it’s taken so long to set up. It would be typical of the Old Bag to take her out when she knew I wanted to talk to her. Raphael has been brilliant, though. So different from Michael.”

“Michael’s always been OK to me.”

“You didn’t fuck up the computer system!” He laughed. “They won’t catch me again, though, I use the computers in the library now. And I’ve got a memory stick.”

“How did you manage that, you crafty bugger?”

“My new best friend, Terry the Twat. Show him some kindness, and he’ll give you whatever you want. He thinks I’m writing something about Goldblatt’s amazing achievements for a national paper back on Earth, and he’s going to do the photographs, and one day be rich and famous. Wants to be a journalist.”

“And what are you going to do with all this information?”

“Nothing I just need to have it. A lot of things don’t make sense. I keep remembering things that haven’t happened, and not remembering things that have.”

The Sahara Desert began to bore them after a while.

“Can we cycle through the Amazon Rain Forest, do you think?”

“I doubt it. It’s all been built over by now,” Daniel sighed.

“OK, then. How about the Antarctic. Before it all melts.”

“Time for a shower, I think,” Daniel said. “Want to meet up here tomorrow night, same time? After I’ve spoken to Tabitha. I can tell you about it.”

“Yeah. That’d be good. We need to keep in touch. How long is it been since they moved you, now?”

Daniel scratched his head. “Dunno. Must be nearly a week. Seems longer. Have they put anybody else in my place yet?”

“No. Your bed’s still there if they move you back again.”

Nearly a week?

They headed for the showers. “Are you sure it’s only that long? Like you say, it seems longer.”

Daniel stopped in his tracks, as if trying to think. “No. Couldn’t be any longer because I’ve kept a count of the days since we’ve been here.”

Back in the dorm, Billy was making coffee.

“I saw Daniel in the gym tonight,” Glenn said, trying to sound casual. “You should have come along. It was really good to see him again. His new supervisor has arranged a video call with his daughter.”

“Great! Smashing. He’ll be so relieved.”

“How long is it he’s been gone now? I can’t keep up with time here.”

“Dunno.”

Billy had trouble remembering, too, then. Nobody seemed to be sure of the time in this artificial set-up. They didn’t seem to know how long they’d been there, or how many times they’d worked there. He sipped his coffee thoughtfully. Then finally, he said, “Must be about a month now.”

Chapter 7

“Glenn, can you get me the file for this man, please?”

Michael was already standing beside Glenn’s desk when he arrived at work that morning, even though he wasn’t late.

“Jimmy Springer. He’s claiming to have had another accident. He’s had several little—you couldn’t really call them accidents—incidents. Slight cuts which don’t actually need treatment, but he insists on it, and his team leader backs him up.”

He placed a sheet of paper on Glenn’s desk before he even had a chance to switch on his computer, and pointed to an 11-figure number.

“This is the entry code. Go into ‘Personnel Records’, then enter this number,” he ran his finger along the length of it. “When it asks you which Sector, type in ‘N’ for the Mineral Extraction Facility, and the names from that Sector will come up in alphabetical order. Click on his name, then print the details out and bring it to me. No, better idea. Read through it first and find any references to previous accidents, highlight them, then bring it to me.”

“OK, Michael. I’ll do it straight away.”

“Thanks, Glenn. Sorry to pounce on you first thing, but it is a bit urgent.”

Michael left him to it and returned to his office.

Glenn entered the number carefully, then, his mind on other things, ‘Sector C’, his own Sector. And the list of familiar names came up.

“Shit!” He realised what he had done immediately, when his own name and Daniel’s came up on the screen in front of him. On a sudden whim, he copied down the entry code on a piece of chocolate wrapper and stuffed it back in his pocket. He now had the key that opened many doors, a code number he had not had access to before.

He was tempted to look at his own records, to see what they said about him, but he knew from what happened with Daniel’s computer ‘problems’, that nothing he did would go unseen. He quickly amended it to ‘Sector N’, found the man’s file, then instructed the computer to print it, before walking over to the communal printer to collect his copy.

He sat back down at his desk and started reading through the records, which went back some eight years. Strange! Wasn’t this supposed to be an entirely new project? Not one that had been running for at least eight years. But then, other people, like Billy and Graeme, had both worked for Goldblatt before. And they weren’t quite sure when, either.

The technology to take men to the moon had been in place for many years, but for some reason the US government had chosen never to use it again after the first outings in the 1960s and 70s.

He pushed this daydreaming out of his mind and started to read about Springer. This man certainly seemed accident prone. Numerous small incidents had been recorded, mainly over the last few weeks, and Glenn marked them all off.

He then took the print-out to Michael’s office, along with the sheet of paper which bore the entry code. Michael opened the door before he could knock.

“All finished,” he said.

“Good-good-good!” Michael nodded to the sheet of paper with the entry code before taking the file off him. “Shred that as soon as you get back.”

As Glenn returned to his desk via the shredding machine, he could feel Michael’s eyes on him. He fed the sheet into the machine, making sure he was in full view of Michael as he did so. Then he went to the coffee machine for another cup of the much-complained-of brew, accidentally spilling a good third as he lifted the cup from the machine. He watched Michael go back into his office and close the door, before he returned to his desk, and started work. He left his coffee untouched.

Later that evening, Glenn found himself a computer in the library and signed in as ‘Guest’. There was no way he was going to use his own account. He trawled a couple of chat rooms while deciding what to do, but his courage failed him, and he left the entry code unused and returned to the dorm.

Billy arrived back shortly after.

“All right, mate?” he asked. “Had an exciting day?”

“Sure have. This whole place keeps me in a state of permanent excitement!”

Billy laughed loudly. “It keeps you off the streets, that’s all you need to worry about, innit?”

“Yes, I know, and one day I’m going to be rich.”

“Not just one day—at the end of this year! Keep that in mind, and you’ll sail through it.”

“You’re right, Billy. You always are. I only wish we could get news of what’s happening back home, though.”

“We don’t really need to know, do we? We’ve got everything we need here. This is our world now, Sidney Goldblatt Land.”

“Does he ever pay a visit?”

“When he’s not recruiting more workers, he’s here quite often. It’s his little kingdom, innit? The governments back home don’t like it, of course, but it’s too late now. Like I said, this is his kingdom—not that he’d actually call it that, of course.”

“What do you mean, it’s too late?”

“Well, when he first started putting money into new improved rockets and transporters, and talking about mining on the Moon, they thought he was some sort of nut-case and just let him get on with it. He didn’t need permits and everything, because nobody thought he could do it. But he could, and he did. Now, well, it’s like his own country. He makes all the laws here, and nobody argues. I don’t know what they’ll do if he declares independence!”

“You don’t think he’d go that far, surely?”

“Who knows? They didn’t think he’d be able to build a bigger, better and cheaper space shuttle, even when he showed them the plans. It was sort of, ‘Yes, Sidney, very nice picture, now go and play.’

“People back home have got no idea what he’s got going up here. We don’t know half of it, and the politicians back on Earth know even less.”

Billy’s face showed that he was deadly serious.

A few days later, Glenn met up with Daniel in the gym after work again.

“I suppose you’ve had an exciting day in the library?” he asked.

“Not all day. I stayed in the dorm a lot of the time, because it’s quiet there. I don’t need a computer at the moment, not until I have to do the interactive stuff. There’s only three of us in the dorm, and Josh is on nights, and he sleeps through anything.”

They headed for the static bikes.

“I’ll miss our little trips across the desert if you go to Base Camp 2,” Glenn said.

“Yeah, we must arrange to meet up when we get back home.”

“You mean it could be permanent? I thought it was only the odd day.”

“I don’t know. Depends on my exam results, I suppose.”

“Exam results? I thought it was just a bit of extra training so you could stand in if they were short-staffed.”

“It was initially, but it’s likely to be permanent, now. But we can still meet up back home, anyway.”

“When we’re both stinking rich like Sidney Goldblatt?” Glenn started to look through the choice of scenarios. “I’ll send my butler round with a message. He can borrow the Lamborghini.”

“But not your best Lamborghini?”

“Of course not. He can borrow my second best Lamborghini. When it’s three months old, I’ll give it to him anyway.”

“Of course! Who’d want to be seen with a three months old Lamborghini?”

Glenn finally found a scenario that appealed to him. “How’s about this one. San Francisco by night?”

“OK, Let’s get virtually mugged!”

At least Daniel seemed to have stopped worrying about his daughter now he’d had the video-call. Although he hadn’t been able to say much to her, he was relaxed now.

But the interference with the first video call had left a nasty taste in Glenn’s mouth. It was definitely Michael who had put those words on the screen. He’d watched the letters appear in time with Michael’s keystrokes, but he couldn’t tell Daniel. At the moment, in his new state of euphoria, Daniel would never believe him.

After half an hour of San Francisco by night, punctuated by several stops, they decided to call it a day.

“I wish they had virtual bars on these scenarios,” Glenn said. “This cycling makes me thirsty.”

“That’s why you get free coffee all the time. Stops you getting dehydrated.” Daniel switched off the machine. He laughed, then added more seriously, “It’s no good trying to fight the system. No. I’m serious. There’s nothing going on here. It’s like, well, they do things differently. They have to. There are rules, and they have to enforce them. Most of the rules are for our safety, anyway.”

“Like what?” Glenn tried not to sound too confrontational.

“Like, you don’t leave the dorm after Lights Out. Like, you don’t go outside the facility. Like, you take your vitamins, and night-time sedation.”

“You sound like you’ve swallowed the rule book, Danny Boy!”

Daniel looked away and went back to flicking through the choice of scenery videos. “You got to have rules,” he said. “Just keep your head down and toe the line.”

“Not to mention nose to the grindstone and shoulder to the wheel. Great if you happen to be a contortionist!” Glenn laughed. “How many calories do you think we’ve burnt off this session?”

“About the same number as we’ll put back on tomorrow, sitting around on our arses all day!” Then Daniel suddenly said, “Hey, look at this. ‘Christmas in Lapland’. Not very ‘all-inclusive’ is it? Thought that would have been banned by now.”

“Probably was, and that’s how we’ve got it up here! The stuff that nobody else wants, a bit like us.” Glenn switched off the machine and picked up his bag. “So what are you going to do now?”

“Shower, then back to the dorm, I think. I want to read through the stuff I’ve been studying today. See how much has gone into my head and stayed there.”

“What is it about?”

“Radiation sickness.”

“Lovely! OK. Canteen tomorrow, same time?”

“Sure.”

After they had both showered, Glenn watched Daniel wander off in the direction of Sector D. Yes, he’d definitely miss him.

He didn’t want to go back to the dorm yet, so he headed for the library and its meagre research facilities. As usual, Terry the Twat was sitting behind the counter. Despite his young looks, his armband was bordered with the grey of a Section Leader.

“Where’s your friend?” he asked.

“Gone back to the dorm,” Glenn told him. “He’s got some study time and he wants to make the most of it.”

“Perhaps he’ll come in here later.”

“I’m sure he will. If not tonight, then tomorrow.”

“He really ought to come in here more often if he’s on study time. I mean, where else would you go to study but a library?”

“That’s very true.” Glenn paused. “Terry, you know all about this place. How would I get another password? I mean suppose I wanted to look at things that I—well—perhaps wouldn’t necessarily want those in charge to know I was looking at?”

“You mean a black ID?”

“I suppose so. I mean, if I had a pain in my chest, say, and I thought it might be cancer—I’m not saying I do, of course, but if I did—I might not want Michael to be able to go through my browsing history and see I’d been looking at the symptoms of lung cancer. He’d whisk me off to Health and Safety and they’d do loads of painful tests, and I might even end up getting sent home.”

“Yes,” Terry said. “I can see that could be a problem. If you had a pain in your chest. Which of course, you don’t.”

“Or even, if I wanted to look at—” he paused for a moment before looking Terry straight in the eye, “—men’s stuff.”

Terry looked down at the desk. “Well, as you’re a friend of Danny’s,” he said, looking around to see who else might be within earshot. “I could probably help you.”

“That would be really good of you,” Glenn purred, “I’d be really grateful.”

“Let’s find you a private room.”

Glenn followed him across to the back of the reading area. Terry unlocked one of the doors and let him in. ‘Room’ was a bit of an exaggeration. Large cupboard with a desk and chair was more like it.

“Some of the men find these a bit quieter. More private.” He pulled out the chair and sat down at the desk.

Glenn watched for a while as Terry’s nimble fingers danced across the keyboard like fairy ballerinas.

“Think of a name for your new ID,” he said.

“Er, Sherlock.” Too obvious! “No, make that Shylock.”

“Shylock it is.”

More fluttering fingers, then, “Here you are, Shylock, and now for your password. Give me seven numbers you can remember, and old phone number, perhaps, then we’ll insert a couple of letters.”

Glenn wrote down his gran’s old phone number. Terry inserted three letters and an asterisk, finally producing an unrecognisable jumble of figures and letters, and Shylock was born.

“It might be a good idea if you memorised this number and got rid of the piece of paper.”

“And this is untraceable?”

“Untraceable in as long as they don’t know to look for it. If they had Security actively looking for whose ID it was, it probably wouldn’t stand up to too much scrutiny, but as it is, it takes the same pattern as all the proper ones, so it looks like it’s genuine.”

“Amazing! You’re really wasting your talents here, Terry.”

“Yes. People have said that before. But it’s only for twelve months.”

And people have said that before, too.

“Good luck. I’ll leave you to it.”

For a minute or two, Glenn didn’t use his new power. Terry had left him logged in, and his new password was still lying on the desk beside the keyboard. He put it in his back pocket, at the same time pulling out another, equally important piece of paper. The piece of chocolate wrapper with the entry code Michael had inadvertently given him. He leaned back in his seat. The one thing he didn’t want was Terry coming in and asking him if he was all right.

He keyed in the number, and the screen came up as before. Then he keyed in ‘Sector C’. His name was there, but Daniel’s wasn’t. Of course, Daniel was no longer part of Sector C. Without bothering to look at what they said about him, he keyed in ‘Sector D’, and it immediately came up, with Daniel Alexander’s name at the top of the list. He sat staring at the screen for a moment.

He might find proof that they had been stringing Daniel along about his daughter’s insurance. And about the entire video call, come to that.

He clicked on Daniel’s name, and there followed his date of birth, National Insurance number and an address in Northwest London. So far so good. This entry code was the key to a virtual Aladdin’s cave of information. His next of kin was a Reginald Winthrop, cousin, also a London address. Glenn had never heard him mention this person, but perhaps they didn’t see each other that often. ‘Marital status’ was also interesting; ‘Single’.

Hadn’t Daniel’s wife left him for somebody who didn’t want to be lumbered with a chronically sick child? Weird. Perhaps they never married. So that is why the child, Tabitha, was living with her grandparents. But he’d gotten the impression that there was hope that Daniel and his wife could get back together.

But the real gob-smacker came, ‘Children: none’.

Had the child died? But surely, someone would have informed him. So why was he still constantly talking to the bosses about problems with her insurance? It just didn’t make sense. And apparently, Sidney Goldblatt had made promises about the insurance before he even left Earth.

He took out his phone and took a quick shot of the screen. What, if anything, could he say to Daniel? He had no right to access his friend’s personal details in the first place, and supposing that Daniel decided to make a formal complaint, not only he, Glenn, would be in trouble, but poor, desperate-to-please Terry would be for the high jump, too. He logged out and closed down the screen.

For a while he just sat there. Then he logged back in again, this time to Sector C, and his own details. In his case, address, National Insurance Number, next of kin were all correct, as well as his work and health records. Even stuff he hadn’t told them was there. So why were Daniel’s details so at odds with what he had been telling everybody? What did he hope to get out of lying to his employers—or to his mates?

Just a thought. Who had entered this misleading information? In his work for Michael, everything he had entered was traceable back to him. A quick check told him that although the original information no longer existed, it had recently been updated by Raphael.

He logged out a second time and left the library.

“Good night,” Terry called. “Don’t forget to tell Danny I was asking about him.”

“Will do!” Glenn raised a hand and gave Terry a quick wave, which earned him a beaming smile.

Back at the dorm, Billy was already lying on his bed, struggling with another crossword puzzle.

“How’s Daniel?”

“He’s OK. He’s enjoying Sector D. More to do, more hands-on stuff. He’s been over to Base Camp 2, as well, and he was actually dealing with casualties from the Extraction Facility, not walking around checking temperature and air pressure all day. And he’s away from Michael, which suits him just fine. He’s getting a lot of study time too, and going to be doing exams.”

“Good for him. He’d never have got anywhere with Michael in charge. Don’t get me wrong, Michael’s OK, but once he gets it in for you, it’s personal. You kind of become a hobby of his. Who’s running Base Camp 2 now?”

“I don’t think he said.”

“There’s loads of Yanks stationed near Base Camp 2,” Billy said. “They’ve got a base on the Dark Side, quite close to Base Camp 2. Base Camp Alpha. Theirs have letters, ours have numbers, that’s how we tell them apart. They don’t interfere with us though, they’ve been up here for years,” he said. “I’m surprised they managed to keep it from the public.”

“What?” Glenn turned his coffee cup round in his hands.

“The American base. Nobody knows about it back home. Americans went to the Moon in the nineteen-sixties—or soon after. The actual date’s controversial, of course, but they got there eventually. And now there’s all this new technology and we’re meant to believe they never went back? There was a couple of private companies interested, but the US government always said they weren’t interested in going back. So they said.

“America had Wernher von Braun, for heaven’s sake. They missed their chance there, if they had him sweeping the floors. Then eventually, along comes Mr Goldblatt. He had the money, the rich backers and the friends in high places. The world was his oyster, as they say, innit? But he had to move to the UK to fulfil his dream. Because his own government wouldn’t support him.”

“How do you know all this?” Glenn asked.

“I listen to a lot of people. And like I said, I’ve been here before.”

“So, who’s this Wernher whatever his name is?”

“Wernher von Braun. You never heard of Operation Paperclip?”

“No. What is it?”

“During World War II, Wernher von Braun was one of the top men designing rockets for the Germans, and when he saw that things were going badly for their side, he and his team of scientists surrendered to the Americans, and they gave them all false documents and set them to work. For America this time.”

“What? The American government employed Nazis, after all they’d done?”

“They were useful. Wernher von Braun designed the Saturn rocket that took the first men to the Moon. They’d have never got to the Moon before the Russians without him. He was talking about space travel before anybody thought it was possible. Didn’t you know that?”

“No, I didn’t. Is he still alive?”

“No, course not! He died about 1990-something. Anyway, officially, there was no more manned interplanetary flights after Apollo 17, in 1972. Yeah, right. You don’t think they had the top rocket scientists in the world stacking shelves in Walmart, do you?”

“So what are you saying, Billy? The Americans have been up here for years, and nobody knew? Where did you hear all this?”

“I dunno. Don’t remember. I thought everybody knew about it. You’ve not asked the right people the right questions.”

So they did go back to the Moon!

Chapter 8

“Billy’s off early this morning,” Glenn commented, partly to himself and partly to Graeme, as he noticed the already empty bed.

“I expect he’s got important business to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s spying on us. Company man, Billy is. You can spot them a mile off.”

“Really?” Glenn sat up in his bed and was about to get up when Graeme brought him a cup of coffee. “Thanks, Graeme. Very good of you.”

Graeme sat down on Daniel’s old bed, next to Glenn’s.

“He’s reporting back to Michael everything we do.”

“How do you know?”

“Haven’t you seen those envelopes that he gets off Michael all the time?”

“I have seen Michael give him an envelope; yes, but how do you know what’s in it?”

“I don’t, but I will find out. He’ll leave one lying about sooner or later, and I’ll take a look at it. Billy’s always been a snitch.”

“Were you and Billy here at the same time? I know you’ve both worked here before.”

Graeme paused, as though he couldn’t quite remember. He looked at Glenn for a long time. “You know he got your mate Daniel moved, don’t you?”

“Did he? Does Daniel know that?”

“Probably not.”

“So how did Billy get him moved?”

“He had a word with Michael. Told him you two were too friendly.”

“Too friendly? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not like that! They don’t like close friendships between the men. Divide and rule, that’s what keeps this place running. They like people reporting each other for all the silly little petty violations so they know what’s going on, and who’s stepping out of line.”

“As far as I know, they moved Daniel because of his experience as an army medic in the Balkans. He’s had experience of treating men in the field. A place like this needs that hands-on experience. When a soldier is injured in a war situation, they have to know immediately what treatment is required. They can’t just say, ‘Let’s send him for tests’, can they?”

“Oh, they do that, all right!”

“What?”

“Send people for tests. The Gremlins come and get you in the middle of the night and they take you away for tests. And some people don’t come back. You’ll never know what they tested you for, because they won’t tell you.”

“Is that what they did to you? Came and got you in the middle of the night, did they?”

Graeme stiffened. “No,” he said. “All I’m saying is, that’s what they do. But they never did it to me.”

“Yes, they did. When we first started this job. They took you away for tests. You told us your dopamine levels were too low, or something. They sorted it out and brought you back.”

“No.” Graeme looked genuinely puzzled. “That was the time before that,” he finally said. “They took Daniel away for tests, though. They took him to Base Camp 2, and that’s where he is now. He won’t come back from there, because that’s what they do to you when you go to Base Camp 2. That’s where they torture people who step out of line.”

The more he said, the flakier he sounded.

“Daniel’s not at Base Camp 2 anymore. I saw him yesterday, and he’s back on Sector D. He’s got study time.”

“We’ll see.” Graeme tapped the side of his nose and gave Glenn a knowing wink. “We’ll see. Don’t say I didn’t tell you. Well, I’ve got to go. Things to do, people to see.”

When Glenn arrived at the canteen, Daniel was already there and he’d almost finished eating.

“I wish you’d come back to our Sector,” Glenn said. “Between them, Billy and Graeme are driving me bonkers. Graeme thinks everybody’s out to get him and that Billy’s making written reports on everybody, and Billy—” he stopped. Perhaps he shouldn’t repeat what Billy had been saying about American bases and what-have-you. “Well, Billy’s just being Billy. Smashing guy, but never shuts up.”

“I know what you mean.” Daniel got up and took his mug for a refill. When he got back he said, “I’ve got to get back to the library. I’ve got a test today.”

“Just a test? Not a proper exam, then?”

“No. Just to make sure I’ve taken everything in so far, before I go on to the next section. There’s a proper exam later, but not for a while.”

“So you won’t be leaving us yet, then?”

“No. Raphael really wants to keep me on Sector D until we get a new intake of men. It seems they’re recruiting all the time back on Earth.”

“Good luck with your test, then. Don’t forget to say hello to Terry. He’s been asking about you.”

“He’s not that bad! Graeme’s his new best friend now. They were chatting for at least twenty minutes last time I was in the library. Very cosy. See you tonight, six o’clock.”

Then Marcus walked into the canteen and stood at their table as they got ready to leave. Glenn hadn’t seen him since Induction, and wasn’t sure what his job was.

“Get suited up,” he said. “You’re needed at Base Camp 2!”

Whatever Daniel’s new job was it must be important!

Daniel left his plate on the table and followed Marcus without a word.

Glenn went straight to the gym after work, but there was no sign of Daniel. He decided to look at the other facilities they offered. Perhaps he would have a go at the weights. A facilitator appeared as soon as he stretched out his hand to touch one, and insisted he read the instructions on Health and Safety. Everything you did was watched.

When he realised it was not as easy as it looked, he decided to go and see if Daniel was in the library.

“He’s had to go back to Base Camp 2,” Terry said.

“To stay? I thought he’d be straight back. He’s got a test coming up.”

“That’s the way they are here.”

Glenn sat at a computer and morphed into Shylock, but he didn’t do any more investigating, he just explored a few things, listened to a couple of albums and generally tried to kill time. Somehow though, time kind of escaped his grasp, and before he realised, the warning siren told him the library was closing.

On the way back to the dorm, he caught up with Billy and they got in minutes before lights out. Billy threw his woolly hat onto the bed and jumped on there after it. There were two new pills on Graeme’s locker, red and black ones.

“Sorry I missed Daniel,” Billy said, “I’d like to say hello to him again.”

Before Glenn could say anything, the dormitory door burst open, and Graeme came in.

“Anybody like some pizza? It’s still warm,” he said. “There’s a Hawaiian, and one with some sort of meatball things.”

He put his prizes on a plastic plate on his locker for them to help themselves.

“Pizza? What, you treating us? Blimey! This is all right, innit!”

“It’s only some stuff that didn’t get sold in the canteen. You can’t reheat it and serve it up tomorrow—Health and Safety!”

They both accepted his offer. He was obviously trying to make an effort after his bad start.

“Thanks, Graeme,” Glenn said. “Good of you.”

“No point in it going to waste,” Billy agreed, taking a big mouthful.

The following day, Graeme brought a selection of sandwiches, then on the third day he brought most of a roast chicken.

“How do you get all this stuff, Graeme?” Glenn asked. “Are you sure you won’t get into trouble?”

Graeme shrugged his shoulders. “Chef’s perks!” he said, patting his new, lilac-coloured arm-band.

“Are you actually a chef, now?” Glenn asked. It was probably against regulations asking him about his work, but there couldn’t be anything ‘classified’ about cooking a few chips.

“I do most of the cooking, yes.”

He looked at the wall clock.

“I need to nip out,” he said. “Things to do, people to see.”

And he was away through the door.

Billy was suddenly serious again. “He’s up to something. Let’s face it, Graeme is not a naturally nice person. He has to work hard at it, so there’s got to be a good reason for it. Either he’s done something he doesn’t want us to know about, or he’s about to do something, and he wants us on his side.”

“Seriously? Do you think we should mention it to Michael?”

“He’s nothing to do with Michael. His new boss is Gabriel.”

Glenn nodded. “You know everything about this place, Billy. About what goes on here. Why do they all have names out of the Bible, all the ones in charge of us? They’re all named after saints or angels. They can’t be their real names, can they? Not all of them.”

“It’s the way they do things, I suppose,” Billy sniffed. “If anybody wants to complain about how they’ve been treated when they get back home, nobody knows who they really are.”

“Well, I know who you are, and you know who I am,” Glenn started to say.

“Yes, but if you were promoted, they’d put you somewhere else, where nobody knew you, and give you another name. Like Daniel. If they’ve move him to Base Camp 2 permanently, don’t be surprised if he comes back one day and they’ve changed his name to Zacharias or something.”

Glenn laughed. “I get it. When I go back home and tell the police they fed me crap coffee, filled me full of drugs, and worked me seven days a week, and Officer Dibble says, ‘Who did those awful things to you, young man?’ and I say, ‘It was the Archangel Michael, officer,’ then—”

“Then Officer Dibble finds a friendly psychiatrist who says, ‘Now I’ve got a colleague who does a nice line in lobotomies.’

“Jesus!” Glenn said. “You could be right!”

Chapter 9

Fumbling with the still unfamiliar fastenings, Daniel got into his pressure suit. ‘Alexander’ was now displayed on his chest and his helmet. He felt like the astronaut he had wanted to be as a child.

“A man at the Extraction Facility has had a bad fall,” Marcus said, “suspected broken ribs, possibly collar bone. We’ll be transferred in the Medical Rover. We’ll either treat him at the mine or at the Medical Facility. The driver’s waiting for us now.”

The Medical Rover was waiting for them outside. It was a superior version of the one he went to Base Camp 2 in before, but this one had medical stores and equipment in the back. Stars hung in the lunar sky like diamonds displayed by a celestial jeweller on a backdrop of black velvet.

“How bad is it?” Daniel asked.

“I don’t know,” Roger told him. “But they have a First Response Team at the Extraction Facility, and they can administer pain relief until we get you there.”

At last he was doing something worthwhile. Somebody actually needed him.

The three of them chatted throughout the journey, Daniel mainly about his experiences in the Balkans and the Middle East, with Roger attempting to crack the occasional joke.

Eventually a single small building started to become visible in the distance. As visible as anything was during the dark period. Base Camp 2 was almost entirely underground. Although he’d only spent a few hours there before, Daniel couldn’t wait to get back.

“Where did the accident take place?” he asked.

“It was probably a cave-in or a rock fall,” Marcus said, “That’s the usual, although you can get a nasty cut opening a can of beans if your mind’s not on what you’re doing.”

They pulled up outside the solitary building.

“Time to get out,” Roger said. “You don’t need to give me a tip.”

Daniel laughed. He followed Marcus inside.

“Take your pressure suit off and leave it in one of the lockers, the white coats are over there,” he said, pointing to a pile of freshly laundered white coats on a table. Daniel found one to fit him and put it on. He took a deep breath. It was good to breathe air without the aroma of pine needles.

“Matthew will take us to our casualty. He’s on his way.”

The Medical Facility at Base Camp 2 was bigger and better equipped than that at Base Camp 1. He wondered how many shuttle trips were involved in bringing all the equipment in.

There was an Admissions Room, where he had already spent some time on his first visit. It doubled as the emergency ward. First stop for everything, the place where all the expensive diagnostic equipment lived. The machines that bleeped and pinged as though with a mind of their own.

Then there was a four-bedded ward where patients would stay if they needed to be kept in bed, plus two bathrooms, a locker room and there was also a day room with an out of date DVD player, a music centre and a few real books, for the ones who still needed treatment but did not need to be confined to bed.

“Daniel, is it?”

That had to be Matthew. He’d seen him before.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Well, I’ve got something for you, mate,” he said with a big grin. He handed Daniel an envelope.

“Open it, then!” Marcus said.

It was a new armband. A lighter green than his probationer one, not so glaringly visible anymore.

“Wow!” What else could he say?

“Put the old one in the envelope and I’ll return it to stores later,” Matthew said. “Now let’s get you to the casualty. He’s just arrived.”

They entered a lift to take them to a lower level, then followed an underground tunnel.

“You’ll probably find he’s not quite lucid,” Matthew said. “He’s been given a pretty hefty dose of morphine because they didn’t know how long it would take to get somebody to see him, so don’t expect too much sense out of him. You’ll have to rely on your own observations. Think of him as being unconscious.”

“A bit like a drunk on a Saturday night!”

“Yes, but this one won’t want to kill you for trying to help him.”

They finally arrived at their destination. The casualty lay on a bed in a single room, a young black man.

“Trevor Wilkes aged twenty-nine. Previous observations all on this chart above his bed, see. OK, then. He’s all yours, boys,” Matthew said. “I should have been off duty two hours ago. Sort him out for us, he’s an important fellow. They need him!”

Daniel approached the casualty, while Marcus perused the observation notes, reading the more important things out loud. The young man groaned, causing Daniel to look at his face.

“Jesus!”

“What? Do you know him?” Marcus asked.

It was Trev!

“He was at the same induction as me. I didn’t expect to see him again. He didn’t seem interested. He only came for the free lunch, we reckoned!”

Daniel looked down at the man lying helpless and oblivious on the bed, his eyes closed. His right arm was immobilised in a sling and his upper body was wrapped in layers of crepe bandage, probably the best they could do for him when the accident occurred. Daniel watched closely as Marcus connected him up to a portable MRI machine to ascertain what if anything was broken. The pictures came through crisp and clear. His right shoulder was dislocated, and three ribs were fractured. Marcus lifted Trev’s left hand, which lay limply by his side. He seemed to be studying it intently, a slight frown on his face.

“Problem?” Daniel asked.

“No, no,” Marcus said. “Nothing. Just thinking.” He let the hand fall back to Trev’s side. “Right. We need to get this shoulder back in place before the swelling makes our job more difficult. That’s the trouble with being so far away. A lot of damage can happen when these men can’t get immediate attention. I’d like to have a more experienced team out here permanently. They deserve better treatment for what they do.”

Daniel turned and looked at him. “You really care about them, don’t you?” he said. “You don’t see them as so much cheap labour.”

“No. I don’t. These men are the future of the human race. When we’ve completely fucked up our own planet and want to move on somewhere else, it’s outposts like this that will be the first steppingstones.”

“To another planet that we can fuck up, too?” Daniel said. “What’s the point? Man will always shit on his own doorstep, or at least his neighbour’s doorstep. Do you think we’ve learned our lesson yet? Because I don’t.”

“You’re a cynic!”

Marcus started to remove the sling from Trev’s arm, after inputting something into the keyboard attached to the monitor machine. “I’ve ordered him some more pain relief,” he explained. “Would you mind fetching it for me? If you go out of this door, turn to your left and follow the green line on the floor until you come to the pharmacy. By the time you get there they should have it ready for you.”

“Sure. No problem.” With one last glance at Trev, Daniel set off for the pharmacy. There were two lines painted on both the wall and the floor; the green one for the pharmacy and a purple one, which he assumed was the canteen, as in Base Camp 1. It was eerily silent everywhere. He had imagined the pharmacy would be close by—that would seem to be the sensible way to do things, but instead he found he was still walking after several minutes. Finally, at the end of the corridor, he saw the glowing electric green cross that signified the pharmacy.

The young man in there was sitting on a pile of boxes reading an e-book.

“Hi!” he said, looking up with a keen grin on his face. “How can I help?”

“Hi! Marcus sent you a request for pain relief for a casualty,” Daniel explained. “Trevor Wilkes.”

“Trevor Wilkes. Ah yes!” There was only one prescription sitting on the counter for collection, but the young man checked the name again anyway. “Are you new here?” he asked, “I haven’t seen you before.”

“Transferred from Base Camp 1.”

“Great. Good to see a new face. I’m Lloyd—nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

“I’m Daniel. Likewise.”

Inside a paper bag was a small bottle of liquid, a larger bottle of pills, a hypodermic syringe and a choice of two needles. Daniel nodded. “Thanks.”

He started the long trek back to the ward.

“OK,” Marcus said as soon as he returned. “Let’s sort this shoulder. There are several ways to do this. I’ll show you my favourite.”

He held Trev’s upper arm tightly against his body, then bent his forearm up at a ninety-degree angle. “Slowly, slowly,” he murmured. He started to rotate the forearm at the elbow, which in turn moved Trev’s upper arm until there was a dull click. “That’s my boy!” he said triumphantly. “See, no rough stuff. Gently does it. He didn’t even wake up. Next one, you get to do. Now let’s have a look at these ribs.” He showed Daniel the MRI scan. “What do you see there, and what do you think we should do about it?”

“Not much we can do,” Daniel commented, glad to have been asked, but desperate not to say the wrong thing. He knew what would happen back home, but perhaps they did things differently here. “It’s just two clean breaks and a partial hairline fracture. Everything’s where it should be. We’ll write him up for pain relief and no heavy duties, I would say. Do we know what this man’s actual work entails?”

Marcus checked on the screen. “No,” he said. “He’s classified as Experimental, which could be anything from he’s on somebody’s pet oxygen consumption research project, to he’s trialling new safety boots. Basically it means that we don’t need to know.”

“If a man has broken ribs, he can’t go back to work straight away if he’s doing physical work down a mine twelve hours a day.”

“Eight.”

“OK, eight hours a day. But it’s a lot different from sitting in a chair blowing into a tube.”

“I take what you say,” Marcus said. “But a lot of these research projects we do here are classified top secret stuff, and they are run by people back home. Nothing to do with the Goldblatt Institute at all.”

“So why are we involved?”

“Money. They pay us to run them.”

“No, I mean why don’t they do their research back home? It would save them lots of money.”

“A lot of it’s stuff to do with gravity. As you know, the gravity of the Moon is only one sixth of that on Earth. A lot of physicists would give an arm and a leg to get up here to do their research.”

“And what else? You said, ‘a lot of it’?”

“I suppose there could be tax advantages, if somebody knows about things like that,” Marcus admitted. He looked at his watch. “Lunch time,” he announced. “It’s a bit of a trek to the canteen, so we usually say take half an hour from when you get there. It’s a sort of trust system—until we find it doesn’t work. But the guys all stick to it. It’s good to get a change of scenery.”

Daniel made his way along the corridor, following the purple line to the canteen. Canteen was a bit of an exaggeration, as it consisted of a service hatch and three tables and a couple of armchairs away in a corner. There was no special area for managers as at Base Camp 1. Lloyd was there already, but he hadn’t been there long—a full cup of coffee stood in front of him on the table.

“It’s bacon and onion pie or macaroni cheese—and chips of course,” he told Daniel. “This pie is pretty good.”

Daniel decided to take his advice. He collected his plate of food, sniffed it appreciatively and joined Lloyd at the table.

“Smells good,” he agreed.

“Are you joining us, then?” Lloyd asked.

“Nothing has been said. They just told me I was needed over here a few minutes before I left.” At least, he thought that was what happened. Or had they told him the night before? This was crazy, but he really couldn’t remember. “Nobody said anything about how long I was here for.”

“It’s like that sometimes. On a ‘need to know’ basis, and we never need to know.”

Daniel laughed.

“If Matthew likes you, he’ll ask to keep you here,” Lloyd continued. “He’s been wanting to get another man over here permanently for ages. It takes too long to get somebody from Base Camp 1 when there’s an accident. Lives can be lost while we’re waiting. But it’ll probably be down to Marcus.”

“Who’s actually in charge here? Does this bit come under Raphael too?”

“No. Top man here is Zophiel. He’s OK though. ‘Everybody’s friend’ sort of manager. Always on the side of the lads, but still lets you know he’s in charge.”

Daniel finished his meal and got a cup of coffee from the machine. “I never thought I’d say this,” he said, “but I’m getting to like this coffee.”

“Good,” Lloyd said. “If you don’t drink it, you’ll get dehydrated very quickly. You don’t have much choice about it really, so I guess it helps if you like it.”

Daniel glanced at his watch. “Time I wasn’t here. I don’t want to make a bad impression on my first day.” He swallowed the remains of the coffee and headed back.

When he got back to the ward, Marcus had already heard that another casualty was coming in. Two orderlies were struggling to get the stretcher through a door which was intent on closing on them.

“Over here,” Marcus said, indicating the bed next to Trev, who was now in the bed, rather than on it.

The new casualty was a big man, probably about forty, with thinning brown hair. A folder lay on his chest.

“What happened to him?” Marcus asked the nearest orderly.

“Ken Liebovitz, age 47. A beam came down on him in the Extraction Facility.” The orderly looked grim. “No feeling below the neck.”

His colleague was speaking to the man quietly. “You’re going to be all right,” he assured him. “These boys will fix you up. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

Marcus walked to the door with them and followed them out into the corridor, leaving Daniel alone in the room. In the next bed, Trev started to stir, and Daniel went over to him.

“How are you feeling, mate?”

“Floating on Cloud Seventeen,” Trev said. He sounded as though he was having difficulty getting the words out, although he knew what he wanted to say.

“Are you in any pain?”

Trev squinted for a moment. “Hey! It’s Danny, isn’t it? From the induction.”

“That’s me.” He shook Trev’s left hand.

“Who put my shoulder back? Was it you?”

“No. Marcus did it while I watched. He reckons I’ve got to do the next one, so I don’t want to see you back here, right?”

Marcus returned.

“Stay and have a chat with your mate, while I have a look at the new arrival,” he said. He pulled the privacy curtain around the man’s bed.

“Thanks.” Daniel turned back to Trev. “I thought you had decided against the job.”

“I did, but Fate kind of stuck its nose in. I couldn’t get work, so the government changed my mind for me. It was come here or starve. There are some really nasty people running our country at the moment. But then Goldblatt found out that they needed me more than I needed them, so we sort of struck a deal.”

“Is that right, or is that the morphine talking?”

“It’s true. You better believe it. I am Sidney Goldblatt’s new best friend.”

Marcus reappeared from attending to the other man and laughed, slowly shaking his head from side to side.

“What’s this here?” Daniel noticed a small portion of Trev’s head had been shaved. It surrounded a tiny wound which had been sutured with two neat stitches.

“That’s nothing,” Marcus said, with a cursory glance. “Come on, next patient, or we’ll be here all day.”

Marcus already had the new man wired up to one of the several machines that whirred away in the background. “What I’m going to do is, I’m going to give it twenty-four hours for the swelling to go down and your feeling to come back, then we’ll decide what’s the best way to deal with the situation,” he was saying. “It looks like we’ll be staying here tonight, then, Daniel,” he said. “Did you bring anything to read?”

“No.”

“Never mind, I’ll find you something. I’ll get Lloyd from the pharmacy to show you where the dormitory is, and you’ll be able to get a few hours’ sleep. We’ll see how things go. If there’s no emergency, I’ll see you about six tomorrow morning.”

Lloyd arrived shortly afterwards.

“You wanted me, Marcus?”

“Just show Daniel where the dorm is, and which bed is free,” Marcus told him. “Then when it’s quiet he can slip off for a couple of hours.”

“Sure.”

The dormitory was in the opposite direction to the canteen and the pharmacy. Like the ones he was used to in Base Camp 1, there were four beds, but as two sets of bunk beds.

“The bottom one nearest the door is free,” Lloyd said. “Coffee machine, usual facilities. You won’t get any night-time sedation, though, because you might need to be awake quickly. Have you brought anything with you?”

“No. I didn’t know I was staying. I don’t suppose Marcus knew either.”

“No. If we need an extra medic over here, we send a rover to get them straight away. Mr Goldblatt wants to install an underground shuttle system between the two base camps, but that’s for some time in the future, of course.”

Daniel nodded. He sat down on the bed for a moment. “That’s fine,” he said. “I can put up with anything for one night.”

Back in the Medical Facility, Marcus had finished assessing the new casualty, whose stretcher had become his bed.

“You’re due a break about now,” he told Daniel. “You might as well go while you can. You, too, Lloyd. If I need you, I’ll buzz you.”

“OK. Thanks.”

“What’s happening with Trev, by the way?” Daniel asked.

“He’s fine.” Marcus looked over at Trev, smiling. “We’re keeping him over night, though, at least. I’ll make up my mind about him tomorrow, he can probably go back to light duties.”

“Good. And the other guy?”

Marcus shook his head. “I’ve done an MRI, but it doesn’t look too good. We’ll have to wait and see if he gets any feeling back. Spinal injuries are unpredictable, as you probably know.”

When Daniel woke up the next morning he had to think about where he was. The gel that formed the base of the bed was still soft and warm, and he didn’t want to move. The light came on as soon as he sat up, and he thought he remembered Marcus saying something about six am.

He looked at his watch. Plenty of time. He put it on the locker beside his bed and headed for the shower. Two other beds were occupied so he moved quietly, more because he found it hard to be sociable when he first woke up, than out of pure altruism.

Marcus was dozing in the chair with his head on the desk when Daniel arrived at the Medics’ Station.

“Have you been there all night?” he asked, retrieving his white coat from the locker.

“Yes,” Marcus said. “I didn’t feel like going to bed, but then I must have dropped off.” He rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch. “The canteen will be open in twenty minutes,” he said.

“Everything quiet during the night?”

“Yes. Trevor’s slept all night, and there was no change in Mr Liebovitz.” He stood up. “I’m going to get a shower,” he said. “When I get back, you can go and get some breakfast.”

Although they had been speaking quietly, Trev started to stir.

“How are you feeling, mate?” Daniel asked.

“Fine. Fine. When can I go back?”

“Not for me to say. Want some coffee?”

“Please.”

Daniel got him one from the machine, and one for himself. He sat down on the chair next to Trev’s bed and noticed for the first time a massive gold ring on the middle finger of his left hand.

“That’s fancy! Wow!” he said. “A gift from one of your grateful lady friends?”

“No, I won it off one of the Yanks from Alpha Base.”

“Won it? In a card game?”

“No. It was a sort of guessing game. Well, it was cards involved, kind of. But guessing the cards, what they was.”

“With a Yank?”

“Yeah. There’s loads of them. There’s been American bases on the Moon for years.”

“Oh.” He liked Trev, but he could be bullshitting. He looked at Trev’s ring again. “That must be worth a fair bit back home,” he said. “If it’s real gold.”

It was big and chunky, and definitely not something you could wear while working on any sort of mining operation. He looked again, this time noticing how clean Trev’s hand was. The other casualty, Liebovitz, had deeply ground-in dirt in the cracks in his skin and around his nails. Unlike Trev’s, his hands were hard—the hands of a manual labourer. Trev’s hands were soft, like an office worker’s hands.

“I can’t take it off,” he said, nodding at his still immobilised right arm, “but it says 24 carat gold on the inside, and I like the look of it.”

“So where are the Americans?”

“Where? That’s difficult to say without a map,” Trev laughed. “When it’s dark and you can’t see anything it all looks the same.”

“You can say that again!”

“But I had to go over there to one of their bases to do some tests, and they decided they liked me.”

“What sort of tests?”

“Classified sort!” Trev made a zipping motion across his mouth.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

It could be all bullshit, of course; there was no way of telling, and at that moment Marcus came back and told him to go to breakfast, so he couldn’t ask any more questions.

There was nobody in the canteen, so Daniel got a cup of coffee from the machine and waited for the cook to arrive. Before he could finish his coffee, a friendly face appeared at the serving hatch.

“Scrambled eggs or scrambled eggs?” the man asked.

“Scrambled eggs, definitely!”

“Give me five minutes.”

“Right.” Daniel sipped his coffee and waited. What would the day bring? Maybe he would be able to stay at Base Camp 2 for a while longer.

Lloyd joined him as he went to the serving hatch to collect his food.

“Same for me!” Lloyd said.

“Very good choice,” the cheery voice came back. “You must have known what today’s alternative was.”

“What is that?”

“Go without!” the cook laughed.

“You’re on form today, Gino,” Lloyd said. “So did you have a quiet night, Daniel?”

“Yeah. Marcus stayed on the Admissions Ward all night, though, but he didn’t call me in for anything.”

“He’s like that, Marcus. Very dedicated.”

“Yes. He seems to be. I like him.”

“He’s well impressed with you, I know that.”

“Really? That’s good to know.”

They finished their breakfast and had another cup of coffee.

“I used to hate this stuff,” Daniel commented. “I always drank tea back home. But it’s only half past six and I’ve had three cups already.”

Lloyd nodded. “It grows on you,” he said.

Back at the Medical Facility, Trev was now wearing a navy-blue dressing gown and sitting in the chair beside his bed, while Marcus was running more tests on Mr Liebovitz.

“Can you feel me touching your hand?” he asked.

“No. I can’t feel anything at all.” A tear made its way down from one of the big man’s eyes.

“Don’t worry too much,” Marcus said. “It takes a bit of time for the swelling to go down sometimes.”

The door opened, and a tall, distinguished looking man walked in followed by Matthew. Tall, slim, his dark hair was greying at the temples, and he wore a white coat.

“Good morning, Marcus,” Matthew said. He turned to Daniel. “This is Zophiel, who runs Base Camp 2,” he explained.

“Hello, Daniel.”

“Morning, sir.”

There was something familiar about this man. Had they met somewhere before? Back home, perhaps?

Daniel watched him as he walked across to Trev.

“How are you doing, Trevor?”

“Fine, thanks. Arm’s a bit stiff, ribs keep reminding me they’re there, like.”

Zophiel nodded. “So how are you managing the pain?”

“It’s OK, Doctor Zophiel, honestly. They gave me a load of morphine yesterday, but I don’t need it. I can control it.”

Zophiel turned to Matthew. “I don’t want this man to have any pain relief unless he specifically requests it, and then you call me first,” he said. “He should be able to control his own pain all the time he is conscious, and he doesn’t need pharmaceuticals.”

Matthew looked embarrassed.

“Sorry, Zophiel. He’d already been given morphine before we saw him, so we didn’t realise he was an Experimental until we saw his paperwork.”

“No worries. But do make sure it doesn’t happen again, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

“OK. Give me his notes.”

Marcus handed him the folder.

“Right,” he said, “I’m writing him up ‘nil pain relief’ on his notes, and also on here.” He scribbled something on the clipboard at the end of Trev’s bed as well as on the paperwork in the folder. “So apart from that, Trevor, you’re OK?”

“I’m fine, Doctor, honest.”

“OK. I think perhaps another day here, then I’ll get a rover to pick you up.”

“Brilliant.”

Zophiel and Matthew walked over to the other casualty.

“You wanted to discuss Mr Liebovitz, Marcus?”

“He’s sleeping at the moment, but he’s in a pretty bad way.”

“Let’s have a look.”

Marcus handed the man’s records to Matthew, who took them over to the desk, joined by Zophiel. They peered over the paperwork like a pair of conspirators.

“We don’t have the facilities or the specialist to do spinal surgery,” Daniel heard Matthew say.

All Daniel heard after that was ‘twenty-four hours’ and then something about ‘Departure Lounge’. Zophiel’s voice dropped even lower, then he called Marcus over, for further whispering.

Daniel made small talk with Trev until they had finished. He slipped away into the background when Zophiel came back for another lengthy chat with Trev, before finally departing.

“It’s a bit quiet now,” Marcus said after the visitors had left. “Do you want to go and give Lloyd a hand in the Pharmacy. He’s got to do a routine stock-take, and it’s always easier with two people.”

“Yes, fine.” It was good here, with all the different things he was given to do.

Lloyd was obviously pleased to have help. “Have you done stock-taking before?” he asked.

“Once or twice. I haven’t made a habit of it.”

“Right. The best way is if I make another copy of this list.” He photocopied the sheets and handed the new copies to Daniel. “I’ll start here, and you start over the other side and at some time we’ll meet in the middle. Then we swap over and check each other’s figures.”

“Sounds good.”

“But first—”

“Yes, I know. Coffee!”

Lloyd headed for the coffee machine with two mugs. “Good man!” he said. “Somebody’s trained you well.”

When Daniel returned to the ward, things were still quiet. Matthew was sitting talking to Marcus, and as soon as he arrived, they changed the subject and started to discuss what might be for dinner. Neither of them were very good actors, and an awkward silence followed. Daniel went to talk to Trev.

He was sitting on a chair beside one of the unoccupied beds, spreading playing cards out face-down, all over the bedspread.

“What are you doing, mate?”

“Just wasting time. Well, not wasting time really, ‘cos I’m exercising my brain.” He looked up at Daniel with a big grin. “You want to play?”

“What do you have to do?”

“It’s better with two people,” he explained. “You turn over a card, any card. Go ahead, pick one you like.”

Daniel hovered his hand for a moment, then selected a card from the centre of the spread and turned it over. It was the four of hearts.

“What do I do now?”

“You got to find another four, doesn’t matter whether it’s red or black. So pick another card. Any one you like. Perhaps one is talking to you.”

“When playing cards start talking to me, I’ll get worried.”

“Go on then, anywhere you like.”

Daniel was still laughing when he picked up the ten of spades.

“OK. Turn them back over, but remember where they were. My turn.”

Trev waited for Daniel to turn both cards face down, then he went straight for the four of hearts again, sat there looking at it, then went to the edge of the spread and picked up a card. It was the four of clubs.

“That’ll do!” he said. “Now I get to keep these, and it’s my go again.” He placed the cards on the locker beside him, then picked two other cards, one of them the ten of diamonds. “Go on. It’s your turn.”

“Right.” Daniel couldn’t remember where the other ten was, so he picked two cards at random, but they were not a match. A queen and a seven.

Trev took his time again before picking his next card. It was the ten of spades. He went straight to the other ten that he had recently put down.

“Come to Daddy!” he whooped.

It wasn’t long before Trev’s pile was growing considerably, while Daniel had still only managed to find one pair.

“You’re cheating!” Daniel said. “There’s no way you could be that lucky.”

“How could I cheat? It’s only picking up cards.”

“I don’t know. If I knew how you did it, I’d be doing it, too.”

They both laughed.

“You know where the cards are, that’s how you do it. You’d already laid them out before I got back, hadn’t you? I bet they’re in some sort of pattern. You know where they are, you rat-bag!”

“There are fifty-two bloody cards there!” Trev said. “How do you think I can remember all of them?”

“I don’t know.” Daniel glared at him but couldn’t help laughing at the same time.

“OK. Let’s start again. You can shuffle and lay them out this time,” Trev said.

“You’re not going to tell me how you do it?”

“It’s just luck. And practise.” He started collecting up the cards, including the ones that had been won, then he handed them to Daniel. “Go on. Shuffle them.”

Daniel did so. Several times.

“Set them out. Any way you like. Any order. I’ll turn my back.”

The second game started, with the same results. Daniel got on a bit better once some of the cards had been turned over and he knew where they were, but he was no good at guessing where new ones were.

“OK. I give up. So this is how you won that gold ring!”

Perhaps this was what Trev meant when he said, “I’ll ask my mum to teach me to read people’s cards.”

Before he could answer, Trev had another visitor.

He was a big man, the same height as Daniel, but stocky with it, and he wore the uniform of a General in the United States army. He was carrying a brown grocery bag. So there were Americans on the Moon; it wasn’t conspiracy rubbish, after all.

“Howdy, Matthew!” he said, in passing, as he made his way over to Trev’s bed without waiting for permission.

“How are you doing, young man?” the general asked, in a voice that matched his size.

“General Theakston!” Trev shot up. “I didn’t expect to see you here, sir!” he said, a big grin on his face.

“Just checking you’re not malingering!” the big man laughed. “I’ve bought you some lemonade and cookies.” He placed the bag on Trev’s locker. “I would have brought you a bottle of whiskey, but Doctor Gottlieb said you can’t have it, so I guess I’ll just have to drink it myself!” He laughed again.

“That’s right, sir. He reckons alcohol affects our performance.” Trev examined the contents of the bag. “Thanks, sir, that’s really good of you.”

Matthew got up and walked over to Trev’s bed.

“Would you like me to take you and Trevor to the canteen for your visit, General, sir?” he asked. “I think you’d be more comfortable there.”

“That would be grand, Matthew. Just grand,” he boomed.

Trev slid to the edge of his bed and stood up. Matthew handed him his dressing gown and helped him put his one good arm into it, wrapping it round his other shoulder.

“This way, sir. It’s not far, but I’m afraid the buggies aren’t operational yet.”

Trev and the general followed him out through the door.

Daniel waited for Marcus to give some sort of explanation as to why a uniformed US officer should turn up unannounced and quietly pull rank. But no explanation came. Perhaps it was normal.

“Trevor will be leaving us tomorrow, I think,” was all he said.

Marcus looked at his watch, then went over to Mr Liebovitz’s bed, before he called Daniel over, and this time explained the tests he was running. There was no change. He showed Daniel how he was entering the information on the clipboard and in the man’s file. By then, Matthew had returned, and Marcus relayed the situation to him.

“Shame.” Matthew shook his head. “He was a good man.”

Chapter 10

The next morning, both casualties had been signed off and Marcus was still casually dressed in jeans and jumper. Daniel was about to get his white coat from the locker when Marcus called him.

“Don’t bother with a white coat,” he said. “Raphael wants us back at Base Camp 1. Depart at 08.00.”

“Oh?”

“You look disappointed.”

“Well—I suppose I am a bit. It’s more sort of hands-on over here,” he said. “I was beginning to feel at home!” he laughed.

“Matthew wants to keep you here, I know that,” Marcus said. “But at the moment, as you see, we have no patients, so there is no need for anybody else at the moment. At least, that’s how Zophiel sees it, and he’s in charge. He’s a decent guy, though. He’ll listen to what people have to say, so you might not be there for too long.”

“Where’s Trev?”

“Zophiel had him transported out about half an hour ago. There was nothing that needed full time medical attention, and the general doesn’t like us keeping his people for too long.”

Daniel nodded. “I would have liked to see him again, though. To say goodbye. I was so surprised to see him. It was funny, really. He was at the same induction meeting as Glenn and I were, as I told you, but he decided it definitely wasn’t for him. So he was going to make the most of the free food and leave. He had loads of coffee, piled his plate up with food, then went back for a second helping. It was like the man had hollow legs!

“He had no proper alternative plans for work. Gave us some bullshit about finding himself a rich widow. Apparently, all these women were queueing up to get to him! Either that, or he was going to tell fortunes on the end of the pier like his mother did! My mate Glenn, who’s on Sector C now, he was winding him up, saying the lunch wasn’t free unless you signed up, and they’d come and track him down and present him with the bill.”

Marcus laughed.

“Looks like they did! Go and get yourself some breakfast. We’ve got a long journey, as you know.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve got to write up these notes.”

“By the way, what happened to the other guy, Liebovitz?”

“He’s gone, I’m afraid. Too badly injured. There was nothing we could do for him. It happens sometimes, as you know.”

Daniel nodded. He had seen it all before, in his previous life back home. Probably. As far as he could remember.

When he reached the canteen, Lloyd was already there, sitting in one of the armchairs in the corner, reading an e-book.

They were halfway through eating when Marcus joined them. He, too, chose scrambled eggs.

“Go easy on the coffee,” Marcus advised. “We’ve got a long journey, and there’s no toilet on the rover!”

A few minutes later, Matthew joined them as well. He had already eaten.

“So, Daniel, thanks for your help,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll see you again soon.” He shook Daniel’s hand. “You’ve fitted in well here the last couple of days, and we do need another medic over here full time. We can’t have Marcus, obviously, because he needs to be at Base-camp 1. There’s nobody else of his grade in Health and Safety. But I’ll have a word with Zophiel and see if we can have you here.

“It’s no good waiting until there’s an accident, then it takes four hours for a medic to get here. All I’ve got full-time at the moment is a couple of orderlies, who have taken a half day course in basic first-aid, and have very little practical experience. They’re good men, of course, but I need somebody who can weigh up a situation and make a decision.

“I think you could be the man I need. So with a bit of luck, and Zophiel’s blessing, I hope to see you back here soon. In the meantime, keep up your studying.”

“I’ll have a word with Zophiel, too,” Marcus said.

Then Marcus got a pager message to say that their transport had arrived.

“Time to go?” Daniel asked.

“About half an hour,” Matthew said. “The driver needs something to eat before he takes you back.”

Sure enough, Roger appeared shortly after and joined them at the table with yet more scrambled eggs. Finally, the three of them left Lloyd in the canteen and headed off to retrieve their pressure suits from the locker room.

As they proceeded through the first ground level airlock, Daniel could see the shape of the rover, silhouetted against the curtain of velvet black sky. His eyes were so engrossed in the sight that he almost failed to notice the stretcher lying on a trolley until he reached the final airlock. A large man lay on it, in a grey body bag, which was not properly zipped up. Daniel could just see enough of the face to recognise him. Liebovitz. Were they taking him back to Base Camp 1?

“Poor guy,” he said quietly.

Neither Roger nor Marcus seemed to have noticed him lying there. Daniel glanced at him again. Did his eyelids move then? Suddenly, he had an uncomfortable, gut-wrenching feeling that Mr Liebovitz wasn’t actually dead.

So, it was back to boring old Base Camp 1, and it was all a bit of a let-down. Daniel was spending an unfathomable amount of time checking things he had already checked and ticking them off on a list that was well over-ticked already. He was back on night-shift, which meant he had very little company, either.

He hadn’t even been able to make contact with Glenn. If anybody spoke to him, it was mostly to ask him to check something else. When he had finished checking everything in Sector D, several times, he was asked to write a report. This gave him a day on the day-shift, but it also upset his sleeping routine.

Then one morning as he finished his shift, Marcus approached him with a load more paperwork in a folder.

“Daniel, have you got a minute?” he asked.

“Sure.” It’s not like he had anywhere to go!

“Let’s go to the canteen.”

They sat down in the canteen, with steaming mugs of the ubiquitous coffee.

“Sorry we’ve messed you about since you got back. It was Zophiel’s idea.”

“I must have really pissed him off!”

“On the contrary. He wanted to see how you work on your own, on a boring job without supervision.”

“Really. Why?” Where is this leading to?

“Basically, he is impressed with you. You don’t talk a lot; you get on with your work. You’re a quick learner and have a more than basic knowledge of the work involved. We don’t have many emergencies, but when we do, we need somebody who can work on their own and make decisions when necessary. You’ve shown that you can. You’re good with the men, too. Back here, we gave you all these boring jobs, checking and rechecking.”

“Yes. I noticed!”

“But the thing is, you just got on and did them. Other men have thought ‘I checked that yesterday; I don’t need to do it again’, and sneaked off to the canteen or something.”

“If something has to be checked, it has to be checked. Anything could have happened in the meantime.” He looked at Marcus, trying to gauge what was going on.

“It’s a good attitude. The long and short of it is, Zophiel wants you at Base Camp 2, but Raphael doesn’t want to let you go until you can be replaced at the next intake.”

Daniel took a long swig of his coffee.

“I’ve never had men fighting over me before!”

“Well, we’ve got a temporary compromise. I’ve got some study manuals here,” he opened the folder that he had been clutching all the time. “They are numbered off in the order we want you to go through them. Don’t go on to the next one before you are completely happy with the first one. Zophiel reckons you might find you remember more than you think. From your voluntary work, I mean.

“Take your time; you will be tested on what you learn. And, of course, it will mean more money.”

He handed the folder of manuals over to Daniel.

“This is a bit of a surprise.”

“A good surprise, I hope.”

“Well, yes. I enjoyed Base Camp 2. I felt I was doing something really useful at last.”

“Good,” Marcus said. “A happy worker is a good worker, they say. We are going to treat this as a study period, Daniel. Your time is more or less your own but use it wisely. We won’t be asking you to do any of the routine inspections—that, believe it or not, are necessary—but we will call on you if there is an emergency. You’ll see a timetable inside, giving you the days we expect you to have finished each module and when you will be tested. You have been allocated a password to sign in online for the interactive stuff, and you will find several useful links. Have a look through the folder and let me know if there are any problems. Or anything you aren’t sure of.” Marcus flashed him a quick smile. “OK?”

“Thanks, Marcus. This sounds great.”

“Speak to you later, then.” Marcus paused. “Oh, and Zophiel asked if you ever heard from Luca Milenkovic. I think he was a mutual friend.”

The name sounded familiar. Vaguely. But then, he thought he might have met Zophiel somewhere else, too.

False memories. Probably.

***

He met Glenn in the gym, to give him the news.

“So you’ve got promotion, Danny Boy!” Glenn said. “Make the most of the opportunity. It sounds brilliant.”

“I’m really chuffed.” Daniel sat down on the other bike. “And you’ll never guess who else was at Base Camp 2. Trev!”

“Trev?” Glenn turned around to face him. “What the Trev? ‘Find a rich widow with a teenage daughter’ Trev?”

Daniel nodded.

“What’s he doing here? I thought he was going to get his free lunch and leave.”

“So did he. But he couldn’t find a rich widow, I suppose, and the government got fed up with paying him to sit on his arse all day, so they decided to send him here anyway.”

“Shit! So they do send people here if they don’t find work. I thought it was a rumour put about to make the Department of Employment look good.”

“No. They’ve tightened up a lot back home, so I’ve heard. There are so many right-wing people in the top jobs now. And they are all giving jobs to their friends. They’re really cracking down on people who won’t do their bit.”

“I’ve never looked at it like that,” Glenn said. “So what are you going to do with your money when you get back? Finance a revolution?”

“Not at all. I didn’t say it was a bad thing. I’m just saying the way it is. Democracy is over-rated. Let those be in power who want to be in power. They’ll do a good job of it. The man in the street doesn’t know enough to have an opinion. Look at the disasters that have happened when we’ve had a referendum.”

Glenn gave him a funny look. “If you say so. So how did you meet Trev? Is he working in Health and Safety now?”

“No. He’s at the Mineral Extraction Facility, I think,” Daniel explained. “But I’m not sure what he’s actually doing. I think he’s involved in some sort of trial.”

I shouldn’t have said that!

“Really? I was beginning to think that place didn’t exist.”

“Me, too. But it exists, all right. He had an accident, that’s why he’s come to the Medical Facility. Broken collar bone, dislocated shoulder, and two broken ribs. Painful but not life threatening.”

“Shit, poor Trev! Is he going to be OK?”

“Yes. Everything’s under control. He won’t be able to work for a couple of weeks though. He’s gone back now, but we had a chat when he first came in. He was in a lot of pain, but we soon sorted him out. We’ve got all the most up to date equipment. The library might not have any books, you can’t get a decent video call, but the medical equipment is top of the range. It’s a very satisfying job, you know. Seeing somebody come in like Trev was, and being able to help them.”

Glenn finally clicked on his choice of program. “Here we are. Let’s do this one. The streets of San Francisco. We’ve got to be seen to be doing something—we can’t sit here and pretend to use the equipment.”

“Why not? We always have before.”

“That was before I found out that it was all recorded. When you swipe in with your ID card, it knows who you are and when you actually use the equipment, it records your heart rate, blood pressure and all that.”

“Great, now you tell me!”

Glenn swiped his card for the cycle next to Daniel’s and they started off at a slow rate, enjoying the scenery on the huge screen in front of them.

“So Trev never did find a rich widow?” Glenn continued as they cycled past a backdrop of California streets at a slightly less leisurely pace.

“Seems not. He came back because he couldn’t find anything else, but it seems to be working out for him. He’s certainly impressed the right people, though I can’t think why.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He had the top man at Base Camp 2 treating him, and then some Yank general came in to visit him.”

“The Americans are there, too? I thought that was just a rumour.”

The words were scarcely out of Glenn’s mouth when Marcus appeared.

“You’ll be pleased to know you’re back at Base Camp 2 tomorrow.”

“I am?” Daniel stopped the bike and gave Marcus his full attention.

“Trevor Wilkes is coming back for his check up, and I think it would be a good idea if you saw him. I’ll be there as well, of course. Also, Zophiel wants to see how you’re getting on. So if you can be ready at six am, I’ll meet you in the canteen.”

“Yes. That will be great. I’ll be there.”

Chapter 11

The serving hatch was not yet open when Daniel arrived in the canteen, but Marcus was already there, having got a coffee from the machine. Daniel got himself one, and had only taken a couple of mouthfuls when Marcus’s pager bleeped. He checked the screen.

“That’s Roger,” he said. “He’s ready to leave.”

They finished their coffee in record time and headed for the lockers to get suited up in their pressure suits.

“Morning all,” Roger greeted them. “Your carriage awaits!”

The trip was more interesting when you could see where you were going, but only barely so, and only for the first twenty minutes or so. When you’ve seen one crater, you’ve seen the lot. The dark-period sky was a different matter. The myriads of stars never failed to impress him. Arriving at Base Camp 2 had started to feel like coming home, which was quite illogical.

Once inside, Daniel removed his pressure suit and he and Marcus headed to the Medical Facility, and Marcus paged Zophiel to say that they were there.

Zophiel arrived shortly afterwards.

“How are you doing, Daniel?” he asked. “Still keeping up with your studies?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. Trevor Wilkes is on his way.”

Marcus retrieved Trev’s notes on the computer. It was about half an hour later that Trev arrived. He was dressed in a sort of khaki-coloured one-piece boiler suit. No longer cocooned in a hospital dressing-gown, he looked a different person. Daniel tried not to stare. What a change in him since they had first met!

Trev had lost some weight, not a lot, but his face was more contoured than before. He had never been really over-weight, perhaps a bit chubby. But now, his body looked toned and well-muscled.

“You’re looking good, Trev,” he said. “Really good. Have you been working out?”

“Just a bit.”

Was that a stupid question?

Then Marcus asked, “Would you slip your arm out, Trevor, so we can get a proper look at it, please?”

Trev obliged. His abdomen was flat and taut. Whatever he had been doing had definitely done him good.

“What do you think, Daniel?” Marcus stood back and let him take over.

“How’s it been, Trev?” he asked. “Any pain?”

“No. It’s fine.”

“And can you move your shoulder? Let’s have a look.”

Daniel gently rotated Trev’s arm at the shoulder in both directions, aware of Marcus’s eyes on him. “Well, it looks OK to me.” He turned to Marcus. “He’s got full movement, and he’s in no pain. We don’t need another MRI, do we?”

Marcus came forward and checked Daniel’s findings. “Looks fine to me,” he said. He turned to Daniel. “You need to watch these Experimental guys. They will never admit to being in pain. They can come in here with one arm hanging off, and they’ll apologise for bleeding on the floor, but they’ll swear it doesn’t hurt at all. Use your intuition; believe what you feel, not what they tell you. Right then, young man, you can go back to work. Where’s your driver?”

“He’ll be on his break in the canteen.”

“OK. We’ll let him have his break, he probably won’t get another chance for a while. Do you want to join him, Trevor, or will you wait for him here? We’ve got a coffee machine.”

“I’ll go and say hello to him, tell him I’m ready, then I’ll come back here.”

“Fine. Daniel, you’ve got another casualty coming in in about an hour, so you can take Trevor to the canteen.”

The driver was having his food, curried something-or-other and rice. He wore an American military uniform.

“Are you going to have something to eat, Trev?” Daniel asked.

“Nah! Just a coffee,” he said. “I have to watch what I eat. Right number of calories, you know the shit.”

“Sure.”

Trev had definitely changed!

They sat down with the driver, whose name Daniel immediately forgot, and Trev finished his coffee. Hard physical labour was obviously suiting him.

Once everything was sorted, there was nothing to do but wait. The new casualty—apparently an emergency—would be picked up when Trev was dropped off. Maybe there were only the two rover drivers, Roger and this American guy.

“How long will it be before the new casualty arrives?” he asked Marcus. “Is he coming from the same place as Trev, or do they have to go somewhere else to pick him up?”

“They’re both actually stationed at the same place, as far as I know.” Marcus was studying the computer screen but did not invite Daniel to look.

“Do we know what his injuries are?”

“Not physical, he’s had a psychotic episode of some sort. Zophiel will want to see him, to decide on his treatment. It can be a bit of a problem, you see. People with pre-existing mental health problems don’t usually slip through the net, but some of them are so desperate for work that they try to hide their condition. He may even have been on medication back home. Then coming here, he would have either stopped taking it, or it may have clashed with our vitamin regime or the night-time sedation. I don’t know, of course. I’m only speculating.”

As Daniel started to walk towards him, he switched off the computer.

“Whatever it is, we’ll sort him out. You know what it’s like here by now. These are young fit men we are dealing with. Every new intake has a few accidents in the early days, but once they settle in, they don’t have very many accidents. There’s a sort of camaraderie amongst the men, and they look out for each other. Go and sit in the day-room, or the canteen, for a while, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of studying to do.”

“You’re not wrong there!” Daniel laughed. “There’s a lot of this stuff I’m familiar with, but it’s all far more advanced and high-tech than anything I was used to. I can use all the study time I can get.”

“No problem. Zophiel is convinced you are the right man for the job, so you take all the time you need. Did you do the first test yet?”

“Yes.”

“OK?”

“Yes. I scored 100%.”

“Great. You carry on.”

Daniel collected his on-paper study materials and took off to the canteen, where he got himself another mug of coffee and sat down in one of the more comfortable chairs, away from the serving hatch.

Gino poked his head out.

“Only me,” Daniel said. “Just skiving for a while.”

Gino laughed and disappeared again.

Daniel was enjoying his studying and was quite disappointed when Marcus came into the canteen to fetch him.

“Our next customer is ten minutes away,” he said.

Daniel collected his paperwork together and followed Marcus through the now familiar corridor back to the Medical Facility.

“Leave your study stuff in the locker room, and we’ll go and meet them.”

Zophiel was already there when Daniel and Marcus arrived at the Departure Lounge, and Matthew was standing by his side. The casualty was unconscious and lying on a trolley.

A man Daniel had never seen before stood beside the trolley. He was about fifty years old perhaps, his short hair greying at the temples. He was dressed casually in muted colours but there was something about his bearing that suggested ex-police or ex-military.

“They had to sedate him to get him into his pressure suit,” Matthew explained. He and the driver, whom Daniel now knew was called Alec, proceeded to wheel the casualty to the lift, followed by the nameless man. There was not going to be room in the lift for all of them, so Zophiel and the nameless man went into the lift first, while the rest of them waited for it to come back up. Eventually they all met up in the Admissions Ward.

“Right, let’s get him unsuited,” Zophiel said.

Matthew and the driver took over that job, then Matthew took his pressure suit to the locker-room, finally leaving the man lying on a trolley in one of the small side wards, now in standard blue-and-white striped pyjamas.

“Thanks, Alec.” Zophiel said. “Do you want to get a coffee before you go?”

“OK.”

“This is Jake,” Zophiel told them after Alec had gone for his coffee, “and he is from Alpha Base. Jake has had a psychotic episode while at work. He has no history of this sort of thing as far as we know, but he has been brought to us while his condition is sorted out and hopefully rectified, so that he can be stabilised and sent back to work, or, worse case scenario, returned back home if he is presumed to be a danger to himself or his colleagues. And this is Charlie.” He introduced the previously unnamed man, who nodded but said nothing.

Charlie had now found himself a chair, and was sitting beside Jake’s bed, gazing with a look of practised boredom into the middle distance. “He is to stay with Jake at all times. Even when he goes to the bathroom.”

It was only later that Daniel noticed the handcuffs which attached Jake’s right wrist to the metal frame of the trolley.

“Why the handcuffs?”

“They’re necessary at the moment, I’m afraid,” Zophiel said. “He is confused and presents a danger to both us and himself. Now, we wait for him to wake up.”

Charlie was completely ignoring what was being said. He had taken an e-book reader out of his pocket and started reading, his eyes occasionally flitting across to Jake.

Zophiel turned to Marcus. “I understand you’ll be returning to Base Camp 1 now, and Daniel will be staying here with us, working alternate shifts with Matthew. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you are happy with that, Matthew?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And, you, Daniel? Are you happy to stay here without Marcus’s supervision?” He laughed, “Not that it would make any difference if you weren’t, but I’d like to know.”

“Yes, sir. It’s not a problem.”

Zophiel, it seemed, ran his department as a democracy. Daniel liked that.

“In that case,” Zophiel went over to the desk and retrieved his briefcase. “In that case, you had better have this.” He opened the briefcase and produced a pager. “Just so we can check you’re not skiving off,” he added.

“Thanks.” Daniel looked at it before putting it on his wrist. He had seen them before but had never been thought to be important enough to actually need one.

“Matthew will show you anything you’re not sure about. So, Marcus,” Zophiel said, “Roger will be in the canteen, when you’re ready. I’ll see you shortly, no doubt.”

He shook Marcus’s hand, then turned to Daniel.

“Daniel, would you do Jake’s temperature, pulse and respiration and enter the numbers on the clip-board,” Matthew said, indicating the clip-board attached to the bottom of his bed, “then enter it on the computer? You’ve been shown how to do that, haven’t you?”

“Yes. I’ve done it before.” Daniel nodded. “Do you want me to do it now?”

“Yes, we need a record of what it was, on admission, then repeat the observations again after half an hour, I think. Let me know if he has remained stable or not, and we’ll take it from there.”

Although his temperature was normal, Jake’s pulse and respiration were both very low, so low that Daniel called Matthew back over.

“OK,” Matthew said, “let me know if there’s any change in half an hour.”

“Silly question, but why couldn’t Alec take Marcus back?”

“Alec’s American.”

“So?”

“The Americans don’t go to Base Camp 1. They don’t know it exists.”

Zophiel spoke a few words to Charlie, but Daniel could not hear what was said. He wondered when Charlie got to eat. He retired to the day room with his books, but he couldn’t relax. There was a kind of tension in the other members of the team after the arrival of Jake, which he couldn’t understand.

When it was time to check Jake again, Daniel returned to the ward where he lay sleeping and Matthew went with him. Charlie was still sat there by his bed. Jake now had a line inserted into the back of his hand.

“Have you fitted one of these before?”

“Yes, for emergency blood in the field.”

“This is only glucose. We don’t want him dying of starvation before we can sort him out.”

“Just come to do his obs.,” Daniel told Charlie.

“Help yourself,” Charlie said, getting up from the chair to make room for him. “He’s all yours!” He had a strong American accent.

So Charlie could speak, even if only when spoken to!

Daniel filled in the information on the clip-board then went over to the desk to put it on the computer. There was no previous history for the man. Other times, there had been the patient’s name, age, date of birth, followed by his Sector, when he had been recruited, name of his supervisor, and what his job was. But that had not been filled in. Only his name, Jake Romero, age 22, followed by a five-figure number. Trev had had a number, he remembered, but Ken Liebovitz hadn’t.

“I wish there was a library here,” he told Matthew, after they finished with Jake.

“It’s being considered,” Matthew said, “but it’s not a top priority at the moment. You never know, some rich philanthropist might die and leave the Institute a shed load of money.”

“Does that happen often? You could spend a long time waiting for a rich man to die, by the time he’s had half a dozen organ transplants!”

“Yes, and then when he does, some silly bugger from Planning Department back home will say, ‘I know exactly what those men want, a quarter of a million miles from home. They don’t want books, or access to their families back home. Let’s paint all the subterranean walls a nice shade of pink instead.’” Matthew laughed. “Don’t worry, though. We’ll get you back to Base Camp 1 for your next test, and you’ll probably get time for study in their library. Zophiel has mentioned it to me, but I’ll remind him anyway. Perhaps after we get Jake sorted out. That’s the main priority now.”

“He seems to be stable,” Daniel said. “There has been no change in his observations. But where do we go from here?”

“To be honest, I don’t know.”

“You mean you’re as much in the dark as I am? God help us!”

“I am, about this,” Matthew admitted. “It’s never happened before.”

“There was no background information on the computer as yet,” Daniel began.

“That’s because we haven’t been given any.”

“So how are we supposed to treat the poor sod if we don’t know what happened to him?”

“All we know is he is from Alpha Base, because he’s got a number with his name, and we know he tried to go outside without a pressure suit. And he put up one hell of a fight when somebody tried to stop him.”

“You mean he was disoriented? Or was he trying to commit suicide? To take his own life?”

“That seems to be it.”

“Don’t we have any psychiatrists?”

“We don’t, only trained counsellors, but the Yanks will have some. They’re into that sort of thing. Doctor Gottlieb’s a psychiatrist and also a neurosurgeon.”

The other casualty that day was a man called Brendan Wyatt, who had been badly beaten up in a fight.

“Does he need to be here, just for fighting?” Daniel asked. “I mean, they’ve got First Aid facilities surely?”

“Wait till you see him!” Matthew said, “Perhaps you’ll change your mind.”

A makeshift bandage covered the man’s left eye, and he seemed confused, unsure of where he was. Zophiel took over his treatment.

“Put him on the big ward. I’ve written him up for pain relief, Daniel, so would you go down to the Pharmacy, please? I’ve paged Lloyd. By the time you get there he’ll have his medication ready.” He looked at Brendan again, shaking his head slowly.  “He’ll be lucky not to lose that eye.”

Chapter 12

The next morning Daniel heard an unfamiliar voice as he passed the main ward on his way to the canteen. Charlie now had a new partner, younger than him, but he wore a protective vest of some kind, with ‘Security’ emblazoned on the back, and he had brought a similar one for his mate.

Charlie lightened up a bit once he was away from the ward. He even joked with Gino about the scrambled eggs, the only thing the canteen at Base Camp 2 ever seemed to serve for breakfast.

“Our canteen is the same,” he said. “Two choices, take it or leave it.”

He talked about his dog back home, a three-legged mutt from a rescue centre in West Virginia, but he missed that dog more than any two-legged member of his family, and then he asked Daniel about the availability of e-books.

“I’m not sure about that,” Daniel said, “I’ve only recently been transferred here. We can ask Matthew when we get back to the ward.”

But when they returned to the ward Zophiel was there, and another American visitor—General Theakston who had visited Trev. He and Zophiel were having the sort of conversation Daniel just knew you shouldn’t interrupt, so he and Charlie lingered by the door.

“Show Charlie to the dorm, please Daniel, Dormitory C.” Matthew called. “Steve’s taking over from him during the day, and he needs to get his head down.”

“Sure. This way, Charlie.”

Daniel took him to the dorm and showed him the shower, the music player, and the coffee machine.

“I expect the coffee machine is the same as you’re used to.”

“Oh, yes!” Charlie laughed. “Alpha Base couldn’t run without coffee. Hot and sweet and so thick the spoon stands up in it. How do you set the alarm to wake up?”

“It’s on the bed.”

“Right, same as ours.” He looked at the controls. “The gel goes hard after however many hours you set it for and it’s so pigging uncomfortable, you have to get up.”

“That’s it. The same technology! I’ll leave you to get some sleep.”

“Thanks, pal.”

When Daniel got back to the ward, General Theakston had already left. Steve was in position on a chair beside Jake’s bed, and Brendan had had the dressing removed from his eye. A neat line of four sutures had been added. All that side of his face bore angry purple bruises, and there were also cuts and abrasions on his neck, but nothing else had needed suturing. He appeared to be sleeping.

“Is he sedated?” Daniel asked Matthew, as he picked up the clip-board.

“No. Just sleeping. He doesn’t need sedation, he’s the good guy.” Matthew looked over at the sleeping man. “When our friend next door went berserk, this guy tried to restrain him, and that’s what he got for his troubles.”

“Have we got any more information about him?”

“No. Zophiel was having a go at General Theakston about it. Theakston reckons it was an isolated incident that doesn’t need clarifying. Zophiel said that if the man is in his care, he needs to know a bit about him, but the old bastard reckons it would violate the man’s rights under some Data Protection Act, if his personal information was given to a foreign power.”

“Foreign power, my arse! We’re supposed to be on the same side, aren’t we?”

“He’s a fucking dinosaur. Sometimes the rules have to be broken when human life is at stake.”

“Do you think Jake’s dangerous?”

“Dangerous, yes, but who to, that’s the question. And they won’t tell us. Did this man just have a disagreement with Brendan, here, or does he have a grudge against the world in general? And if he isn’t dangerous, how come he warrants his own security guards, two of them, 24-7?” He looked at Daniel. “I can tell you, Zophiel is not happy. In the meantime, he stays sedated until he gets to see a psychiatrist.”

“Where are they getting one of them from?” Daniel asked.

“Base Camp Alpha, it seems. Alpha Base, as they call it. And until we do get one, have as little to do with him as possible. Keep well away. And when Brendan is mobile, don’t let him know Jake’s here. And the door to his ward should be kept locked from now on. Alpha Base security have a key, and Zophiel has a spare. Only do his obs. when one of their security guys is there. Zophiel doesn’t want our people taking any risks when we are refused the information we have asked for.”

“Wow! This is heavy shit!”

“Yes, and I don’t want to be in the fucking firing line when it hits the fan.”

When Daniel got up the next morning, Charlie was also preparing to start work.

“I usually look in on the ward before getting my breakfast,” Daniel explained. “That way I know if anything has happened in the night, and they know I’m ready to come on shift and haven’t overslept.”

“Good idea,” Charlie said.

Daniel grabbed his white coat from the locker room, and they went to the main ward, where Zophiel and Matthew were at Brendan’s bedside. They didn’t involve Daniel in their conversation, just a quick nod and, ‘See you when you’re ready,’.

“Let’s check the side ward and let your mate know he’s about to be relieved,” Daniel said.

Steve was sitting at Jake’s bedside as ever, reading an e-book. The new security regime meant that they had to knock on the door for him to let them in.

“Hi,” Steve said. “Have you come to save my sanity?”

“That good is it?”

“Yep.” He nodded at Jake. “Still sleeping like a baby. He started to move about a bit about two, so the angel guy—I’ve forgot his name—he came in and gave him another shot of the liquid cosh and he hasn’t moved since. They changed the stuff in his drip as well, because it was running out. That’s about it. It’s all on the clip-board.”

“Catch you later, then,” Charlie said. “We’ll grab some breakfast and I’ll be back and take over.”

“Right on!”

When Daniel got back to the ward, Matthew was standing by Brendan’s bed, and Brendan was sitting up.

“OK, Brendan, do you think you could swing your legs over the side of the bed, then get up and sit in this chair?”

“I guess so.”

Matthew pulled back the duvet cover, and Brendan slowly and carefully managed to get his feet on the floor, like a drunk trying to get out of a taxi. Matthew then took his hands and supported him as he swung himself onto the chair.

“I’ll be back and see how you feel in about twenty minutes,” Matthew said, as he led the way to the side ward where Jake was.

“So how’s sleeping beauty?” he asked the security man.

“Sleeping like a baby,” Charlie said. “But I don’t know what he’s dreaming about.”

Matthew forced a polite smile. “Observations every hour, please, Daniel.”

“OK.” Daniel checked his watch, then looked at the notes on the clip-board to see what time the last observations had been taken. They then walked back to the main ward for Matthew to update the information on the computer and for Zophiel to take himself off to do whatever else it was he did when he wasn’t on the ward.

Matthew fetched a dressing gown and a set of pyjamas from the locker room and handed them to Daniel.

“Go and see how Brendan is feeling now he’s sitting up, and see if he’d like to get a shower. If he’s still feeling a bit woozy, leave him a while longer. I don’t think he’s got any pressing appointments today. When he’s done, take him to the day room and introduce him to the facilities there.”

Brendan was feeling much better, he told Daniel, and yes, he would love a shower, and to actually go to the bathroom on his own. He didn’t have any difficulty walking apart from the fact that his left arm still ‘hurt like hell’, so once they reached the showering facilities, Daniel sat down on the chair outside and gave him some space.

He took his time in the shower before emerging in clean pyjamas and dressing gown, holding the damp towel and a length of bandage.

“I’m afraid the dressing on my arm got wet. It looks like it’s healing up OK, but I expect it will need to be re-dressed so it doesn’t get infected,” he said, with a note of apology in his voice. He had rolled up the sleeve of his pyjama jacket away from the wound and held out his arm to Daniel for inspection.

Daniel froze. That was a bullet wound if ever he saw one.

“How did you get that?” he asked.

“The same bastard that did everything else,” Brendan said.

“What happened?”

“It was fucking crazy. We were all in the canteen. He started shouting at me, accusing me of spying on him. Insisted he’d seen me taking photos. He was pretty incoherent, as though he was drunk or something, but of course he couldn’t be. We have the same prohibition against alcohol as you do. I told him to fuck off, well, it’s a waste of time being polite to somebody like that. He kept on shouting at me, so I said I’d report him.”

“Were there any witnesses?”

“Seven, perhaps eight. Enough, anyway. I tried to ignore him, I moved away from him. Then I didn’t see him for a while, and I thought he’d gone, but suddenly he was back, pointing a gun at me! I thought it was—I don’t know—a replica, a toy. I certainly didn’t think it was real, so I took a run at him, and the bastard shot at me, as you see!

“He suddenly started firing into the air, then he threw the gun down and took off down the corridor towards the airlock, trying to force it open without using the code. I grabbed hold of him and tried to stop him, and we had a bit of a fight. Then Security turned up. And that’s about it!”

“You’re a brave man to chase after somebody when you’d just been shot!” Daniel said. “I thought that only happened in the movies!”

Brendan gave a silly grin. “It didn’t start to hurt until later,” he said.

“So where the hell would he have got a gun from?”

“I don’t think I can say any more about this, without knowing your—” He stopped in mid-sentence. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about this.”

“It’s all right, Brendan. I’m a medic. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen.”  Daniel put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“No. Let’s go back to the ward and get this redressed.”

It looked like another quiet day for Daniel. Trev had gone back after his check-up, Brendan was mobile, and Jake was still comatose. If there were no more accidents, with only one patient needing intensive care he should have plenty more time to study.

Zophiel arrived as he was doing the first set of observations.

“How’s it going, Daniel?”

“Looks like a quiet day. Only two patients and one of them is asleep.”

“What’s this about a gunshot wound?”

Matthew had obviously reported it. “Yes, I took Brendan to the bathroom yesterday and he got the dressing wet in the shower, so I told Matthew, and we redressed the wound.”

“Nothing about how it happened on his notes?” Zophiel frowned.

“He doesn’t have any notes. At least, he didn’t up until yesterday.”

“Still nothing? That’s ridiculous. I told Theakston I wanted Wyatt’s notes when I agreed to accept him. He has no right to conceal anything from us. We’re on the same side, for God’s sake. That man is a little dictator. This is our Base Camp, and he’s a guest. We take his casualties as a favour!”

It wasn’t like Zophiel to sound off like that. At that moment, Matthew returned from the canteen.

“I was explaining to Daniel,” Zophiel said, “I want some answers from Theakston, and I want them today.”

General Theakston arrived just before lunch, his booming voice reaching the day-room, where Daniel was studying and Brendan, now mobile, watched a DVD.

“I’d best get back to my bed,” Brendan said, beating a hasty exit. Daniel followed him, not sure whether his presence was needed or not. He joined Matthew while Zophiel spoke to the General.

“So how are my patients, our patients?” Theakston was asking.

“Romero is still in induced coma,” Zophiel said, “We are going to have to do something about that. It can’t go on indefinitely. If he—”

“I’ll get somebody over to see him this afternoon. Doctor Gottlieb. He’s a good man.”

“Right. Now, Wyatt. He has a gunshot wound on his arm, which we were not told about. Tell me you don’t have unauthorised weapons on your base.”

“A gunshot wound? Amazing.” Theakston gave a look of wide-eyed innocence. “It must be an old one, before he arrived.”

“An old one wouldn’t need to have a dressing on it, would it? It was fresh enough to have started bleeding again when it got wet.”

“I expect it was opened up in the fight with Romero,” Theakston said, nodding slowly. “Yeah. I guess that’s what happened.”

“Shall we go and see him now?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“OK. Now the other thing is, I need notes for both these patients.”

“I’ll get them sent over.”

“Can’t you access your system from here and do it now?”

“Afraid not. The signal would be blocked. My people are paranoid about hackers.”

Zophiel led the way to the side room where Jake lay, and Matthew and Daniel followed behind them. Steve got up from his chair and moved a polite distance away, but still kept an eye on proceedings.

“What’s in this drip?” Theakston asked.

“Just glucose.”

“And this one?”

“Pentobarbital.”

“That’s what keeps the guy asleep?”

“Correct. But we can’t use it indefinitely.”

“Quite. I’ll get Doctor Gottlieb over to have a look at him this afternoon. Let’s see how Mr Wyatt is doing.”

Brendan was back at his bed when the four of them arrived in the main ward.

“So how are you feeling, Wyatt?” Theakston asked.

“Fine, sir.”

“I see they’ve stitched your eye.” He peered closely. “H’m. Neat job, that.” He looked at Zophiel. “Who did that?”

“I did.”

“Really? Very neat work. Well done. So, when do you think this man can resume his duties?”

“That would depend on what his duties are,” Zophiel said.

“Oh, he’s probably pottering about in a lab, measuring chlorophyll in plant specimens. Nothing strenuous. We’d like to get him back as soon as possible. In fact, he could come back with me now, if that’s OK with you.”

“I don’t think he’s ready yet.” Zophiel looked the General straight in the eyes, as though daring him to disagree. “His sutures aren’t due to come out for at least seven days.”

“Fine. Best be safe, I suppose. We don’t want him getting any infection, do we? Is that it? Great. I’ll send Doctor Gottlieb over this afternoon to evaluate Romero.”

Matthew paged Roger that he should get ready to leave, and he escorted General Theakston to the so-called Departure Lounge.

When Matthew returned, Zophiel had already left.

“Did Zophiel say where he was going?” Matthew asked.

“No. He didn’t say.”

Was there anywhere else he could go? Daniel had never seen a map or plan of Base Camp 2, or even been shown around properly. Zophiel had an office somewhere, but he had no idea where it was.

“So we still don’t know where the gun came from, or if there could be more of them. Why the hell didn’t the General question the man about what happened, when he was talking about him going back to work?”

“Because he already knew the answer?” Daniel suggested. “Or because he didn’t want us to know the answers?”

“You could be right. I don’t trust these Americans. They aren’t open with us. They tell us the very minimum they can get away with and claim national security. Never mind, nothing you or I can do about it. How’s your studying getting on?”

“Great. I love it. When I was volunteering, I was told what to do and I did it, but now I’m learning the science behind it. It’s great. I do need to do another interactive at the library, though.”

“No problem. I’ll speak to Zophiel.”

“And Charlie wants some more e-books downloaded from the library. I don’t suppose he could come with me?”

Matthew drew a breath through his teeth and shook his head. “I wouldn’t think so. The Americans don’t go to Base Camp 1. It could cause complications. Just get his e-reader and a list of what he wants. We’re getting a library here soon. They’re working on it already.”

“Well I hope they hurry up about it,” Daniel said. “I’m lost without a library.”

Daniel’s trip to Base Camp 1 came quicker than he had expected. Matthew got a pager message that Gottlieb, was on his way. Then his pager pinged again, and he turned to Daniel.

“Roger is here with supplies for the canteen,” he said. “Get the book list you need off Charlie and meet Roger in the Departure Lounge. You can do that when you do your interactive. Roger will need a meal and a rest, so get your dinner over there, too, then he’ll bring you back.”

“On my way!”

Entering the dorm, he activated the light source, and a dim light came on, slowly strengthening as he approached Charlie’s bed.

Charlie was dead to the world.

“Charlie! Get your arse in gear, mate!” He shook Charlie’s shoulder.

Charlie blinked and sat up, then blinked again.

“Give me your e-reader and your book list.”

“By the coffee machine.”

Charlie fell back onto his bed as sleep reclaimed him.

Chapter 13

“Matthew says he’ll page me if we need to get back in a hurry,” Roger said, when they finally arrived at Base Camp 1, and left their pressure suits in the locker room.

“Are you coming to the library?” Daniel asked. “I’ve got a test to do for my studies, so you can watch a couple of DVDs, then we can get something from the canteen.”

“Library would be great.”

When they reached the library, Terry asked, “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Roger, the rover driver, who brought me over.”

Roger showed his ID and Terry scrutinised his blue armband.

Oh. OK. Are you back here permanently now, Danny?”

“No. I’ve got to do an interactive test for my medical training, and I want to download some music for a mate, then I’ll be away again. I’ll just take Roger to the DVD room. See you later, Terry.”

“Yes. See you.”

“The DVDs are over here, Roger,” Daniel said, leading him in the direction of the big black arrow which read, ‘DVD Collection’.

“I think that boy likes you,” Roger said with a sly grin.

“Yeah. He’s a bit of a fairy cake. I assure you I haven’t given him any encouragement, but he can be quite useful to know. He’s so desperate for friends, he’d do anything for anybody. But he gets all the news, and what he doesn’t know about computers isn’t worth knowing.”

Daniel didn’t know why he found himself apologising.

“You can use any one of these cubicles, and I’ll come and find you when I’ve finished.”

“Great!” Roger was already perusing the list of DVDs that were available.

Daniel’s test was a formality, really. The first part was multiple choice, and you could hardly go wrong. He knew a lot about Fractures and Dislocations, anyway. The final part was an accident scenario, and he had to write a short report; all stuff he had done before. Sometime or other. Everything was starting to feel familiar now. He just couldn’t quite recall where he had learned it.

No problem. He took the opportunity to do a bit of reading up on the subject of gunshot wounds while he was there. Not that it was likely to be needed again. Then he accessed the e-book section, with Charlie’s rather long list of mainly ghost and horror stories. Satisfied that they had all downloaded successfully, he went to find Roger.

Roger had just started another DVD, and he wanted to finish watching it, as he didn’t get much opportunity to visit the library. Daniel also had seen one he wanted to watch, so they left quite a bit later than they intended. Roger, it seems, was answerable to nobody.

“Are we going to be too late for the canteen?” Roger asked.

“There will probably be somebody there,” Daniel said. “Graeme’s working there now. I used to be in the same dormitory as him. He was a miserable sod before they got him sorted. He’s not so bad now.”

“Let’s go and see Graeme then, and grovel if necessary.”

When they reached the canteen, the notice on the door said, ‘Closed’.

“Shit,” Daniel said. He knocked the door. “There’s a light on in there. Somebody must be there.” He knocked again, then walked round to the serving hatch. That too was shut firmly. “There’s a door for deliveries, but we’d have to go outside, and it’s hardly worth the trouble of suiting up. Gino’s always good for a meal at Base Camp 2, even if it is scrambled eggs.”

He turned round but Roger was no longer with him. Then he reappeared from the direction through the newly-open door.

“Door’s open!” he said, secreting something in his pocket, with a big silly grin on his face.

“How did you do that?”

Roger grinned again and showed him the device. “Sonic screwdriver! It’s in case of emergency. Over-rides the electronics of the door, say, if there had been an accident and the casualties were too badly injured to get to the door. Beats phoning for a locksmith. You’ll probably get one when you’re in charge of a section.”

“I shall look forward to that—great burglary tool! Every good house-breaker should have one.”

They went inside. Graeme was pottering about, doing something with a big plastic bin marked Sugar. He stashed it away in a cupboard under the draining board, beside a big white plastic bucket.

“They’re not supposed to add extra sugar to anything. It’s illegal,” Daniel said.

“What do you think is in the coffee?”

“He’s wearing earphones. Listening to music. No wonder he didn’t hear us.”

Daniel shouted his name, and Graeme turned round immediately, looking puzzled and removed his earphones.

“How did you get in? Canteen’s closed.”

“I tried the door, and it just came open,” Roger said, before Daniel got a chance to think up a better lie. “Any chance of something to eat? We’ve just got in from Base Camp 2.”

“OK. Give me a minute. Go and sit down, I’ll be with you in a moment.” He looked flustered. “I’m doing a stock-take.”

They went and sat down in the dining area. Shortly after, the serving hatch opened, and Graeme reappeared.

“What can I get you, gentlemen? You’re welcome to anything you want as long as it goes in the microwave.”

They settled for meat casserole. A bit dodgy, it was a standing joke that if it was called ‘meat’, instead of chicken or beef or lamb, it could be anything, rabbit, kangaroo, roadkill, you name it.

Graeme brought their food and continued to hover.

“Roger, you haven’t forgotten, have you?” he finally asked.

“No. I haven’t forgotten.” That long-suffering look.

“Food was always OK in Base Camp 1,” Daniel explained, “but it has definitely gone downhill since Graeme has been working here.”

Roger nodded. “I don’t know what he was up to in there, but whatever it was, he didn’t want anybody to see him.”

Daniel fetched coffee from the machine.

“What was he on about? What haven’t you forgotten?”

“He wants me to train him up to drive the rover, so he can liaise better with the Base Camp 2 canteen.”

“And are you going to?”

“Gabriel’s thinking about it.”

“You shouldn’t have asked him!”

When they arrived back at Base Camp 2, Roger called in to see if he needed to pick anybody up, and Daniel went back down to the Medical Centre, where Matthew and Zophiel were both on duty, and Doctor Gottlieb was still there.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Marcus said. “We’ve got two more patients.” He looked serious.

“What’s happened? Another accident?”

Marcus shook his head. “Same symptoms as Jake. Psychosis. One’s not too bad, the other’s in induced coma.”

“Oh, shit.”

“I’m not happy with this situation,” Zophiel was saying to Doctor Gottlieb.

“You’re not happy? Do I look as if I’m celebrating?”

“Daniel, this is Doctor Anton Gottlieb, from Alpha Base. He’s a psychiatrist—amongst other things. This is our new man, Daniel.”

“Pleased to meet you, Doctor,” Daniel said, holding out his hand. He was surprisingly young, considering the amount of responsibility he had.

Doctor Gottlieb grunted a begrudging acknowledgement.

“What about the first patient we sent you, Wyatt? I trust he’s not showing any psychiatric symptoms?”

“No. Straightforward wound to the left eye. Sutures will be out in a couple of days, a few superficial cuts and abrasions. Quite straightforward. Apart from the matter of the gunshot wound, which General Theakston chooses to ignore.”

“Ah. Yes, well, there will be a full inquiry, of course. At Alpha Base.”

“And then it will be buried, I suppose.”

“We tell you what you need to know.” Doctor Gottlieb was obviously uncomfortable.

“That is not strictly true, is it, Doctor? These men have been in my care for nearly a week now, and I have still not received their medical notes. How am I supposed to treat them if I don’t have their history?”

“You treat the symptoms, and leave the causes to us.”

Zophiel took a deep breath. “Doctor Gottlieb, you forget that I am a qualified surgeon and physician, with nearly twenty years’ experience. Please don’t try to treat me like a first year medical student.”

“I’m sorry, Doctor. It’s just this place! Your people and mine, we do things differently. That’s all.”

“But we don’t have to.” As Zophiel leaned over to enter something on the computer, a small gold pendant hanging round his neck seemed to catch Doctor Gottlieb’s attention.

“Ah!” he said. “I wasn’t sure. I should have known, if Sidney Goldblatt’s running things…”

Daniel thought the eye contact between the two seemed fractionally too long, but then Gottlieb held out his hand to Zophiel and they shook hands.

“Let’s go to my office,” Zophiel said.

“What’s that all about?” Daniel asked, when it was only him and Matthew.

Matthew shook his head.

“They don’t tell me anything, bloody Yanks! They expect us to treat their patients and they won’t even tell me what’s wrong with them. Two more came in while you were at Base Camp 1. Thomas Beeching is in the other side-ward, in induced coma, like Jake.

“But you’d better see Donald Barnaby first. He’s conscious, and lucid. Sort of. Some of the time. You’ll see what I mean. He’s in with Brendan, poor guy. Brendan should be going back to Alpha Base soon though, so at least he can get up and go to the day-room when he’s had enough.”

Donald Barnaby was sitting up in his bed, next but one to Brendon’s. Brendon was not to be seen; he’d obviously taken the day-room option already.

“How are you feeling, Donald?” Matthew asked. “This is my colleague, Daniel, and he is going to help me look after you.”

“Hello, Daniel,” the man said, a childlike grin on his face. “Do you work here, too? It’s nice here, isn’t it?” He looked up at the ceiling. “Very nice ceiling,” he said. “I like a nice ceiling, don’t you?”

“Yes, it’s very nice.” Daniel managed a straight face.

“The wall is nice too. It’s a really great wall, don’t you think?” He ran his finger over the surface.

“Great, Donald. A really great wall.”

“Do you think if I asked nicely, they would let me have a puppy dog?”

“I don’t think that would be possible, Donald,” Matthew said. “They take a lot of looking after.”

“I’d look after it. I could feed it and take it for walks, couldn’t I?” He looked at Daniel. “You’d like me to have a puppy dog, wouldn’t you?”

“Not really, mate. Not while you’re here.” He looked at Matthew for guidance.

“It would contravene the Health and Safety laws,” Matthew said. “First time it crapped on the floor, they’d take it off you.”

“Oh. Right. Yes, I expect you’re right. I suppose they’d put it to sleep.”

Donald’s eyes filled up and big tears rolled down his cheeks.

Amazingly, when Zophiel and Doctor Gottlieb returned to the main ward, they seemed to have reached an understanding, and were acting like old friends.

“I’ll sort out something about these men’s records,” Gottlieb was saying. “Don’t take too much notice of Theakston. Like I said, he’s a military man. They’re a breed apart.”

“But we still have to work alongside of him, and he’s a pain in the arse.” Zophiel said.

“We just have to put up with him for now. When we can’t work alongside him, we work behind his back. Simple. Problem solved. His loss, our gain.”

They both laughed. There was a new relaxed atmosphere between the two men.

“I’ll page a driver to get you back.” Zophiel said. “Let’s go to the Departure Lounge.” Then to Matthew and Daniel, “See you in a few minutes, guys.”

“Whatever went on in Zophiel’s office, it seems to have cleared the air.” Matthew looked and sounded relieved after they had gone. “If the Americans are going to be easier to work with, it’s going to be a big improvement.”

“It’s that Theakston guy. Steve and Charlie are great.” Daniel said. “I thought it was only American scientists here, anyway, not the military.” He watched Matthew’s face and waited for him to answer.

“We’re like mushrooms, kept in the dark and fed—”

“Don’t remind me!”

The next day, the situation was no better. Three more patients came in, all now in induced coma. This time they were accompanied by Doctor Gottlieb.

“Sorry about this, Zophiel,” he said. “There’s nothing I can do about it until we get to the bottom of what’s going on here. Everything was fine until Theakston’s men started developing this psychosis.”

“Don’t worry, Anton. It’s not your fault. I’m opening up two more wards, because we need to keep the coma patients separate until we know what’s causing it. You haven’t been trying out any new methods have you?”

“Definitely not. Nothing that could cause this mess.”

“The Gremlins made the beds up on the new wards last night—down by your Private Suite—so we’ve got room for them.” Zophiel said. “Daniel, would you give us a hand?”

“Sure. Just tell me where.”

They took a trolley each. There were already new markings along the corridor, indicating Ward 2 and Ward 3, and the only ward that had been in use before had now become Ward 1, according to the sign on the door. The new wards were the other side of the day room.

“They did all this in the night? I didn’t even know we had Gremlins over here.”

“Couldn’t function without them.” Zophiel said. “The little people behind the scenes.”

“But why do we never see them? They do the cleaning, put out the medication, and we never even see them in the canteen.”

“I guess they’re shy.”

Zophiel stopped at Ward 2. “These patients are going in here.”

Ward 2 was much bigger than the admission ward. It contained ten beds but slightly less electronic equipment, and as yet, nowhere for a medic to sit down while he entered his notes. The three new patients were transferred to their beds, and clipboards attached to the rails at the bottom.

“I’ve told Theakston I want information to accompany all his patients coming here from now on, and no messing about,” Doctor Gottlieb said. “You should get it later today.”

“What if he still plays for time?” Zophiel asked.

“Either he complies, or the Company ships somebody else in on the next shuttle, and when that shuttle goes back, Theakston is on it. There’s one due in a couple of weeks.”

“Fine. I’ll leave it with you.”

“The politics in this place does my head in,” Daniel said to Matthew as they sat in the day-room after a hectic morning.

Matthew laughed. “You’ll get used to it!”

“Will I? A couple of days ago, I thought General Theakston was completely in charge of the American base, and what he says goes. Now Doctor Gottlieb, who Theakston brought in in the first place, is Zophiel’s new best friend, and he’s threatening to get Theakston sent back home. Can he actually do that?”

“Doctor Gottlieb, it seems, has friends in high places. He can do most things.”

“And Zophiel?”

“He has friends in the same high places, but they didn’t know that before, and now they do, and Gottlieb has kind of switched his alliance. Which can only be good for us.”

“Will we still get the library over here, now they’ve had to put in all these extra wards?”

“There’s no shortage of space. These underground tunnels run for miles. They were here before any of us were. We thought the Yanks built them. They thought the Russians had built them. Who knows? It’s saved us all a lot of work. Don’t worry. You’ll get your precious library. It’s all in hand as I speak.” Matthew smiled and took a big swill of his coffee. “Do you want to take your break, now it’s a bit quiet? Then if you get back in about an hour, you can do the observations on Romero and the new men.”

Daniel looked at his watch. “Might as well.”

When Daniel arrived at the canteen, Lloyd was there, talking to another man.

“Hi Daniel,” Lloyd said, “this is Terry. I expect you know him, he’s from Base Camp 1.”

Daniel walked over to the table. “Hi, Danny! I thought we’d bump into each other some time.”

Terry the Twat! But what a change.

Terry’s once shoulder-length hair was now cut in a short style. His features somehow looked stronger. Daniel tried not to stare.

“Hi, Terry, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve been over here a few times. We just haven’t been in the same place at the same time. I’m setting up the new library. I’m putting the Dewey Decimal coding on the shelves at the moment, but I’ve got to print some more labels.”

“Wow! It’s that close to happening, is it? That’ll be great. Will you be staying over here, or Base Camp 1?”

As Terry raised his hand and rubbed the side of his head, Daniel noticed a small portion of his scalp had recently been shaved. Just like Trev’s.

“I’m between the two at the moment. I’ve got to train up a new librarian before we can have the two places running fully functionally, and there’s really nobody with a suitable background. I was hoping that your old dormitory mate, Graeme, might have been interested. He’s definitely underemployed in Catering, but he wants to stay there.”

“Must be all the freebies. Leftovers, you know, what you can’t sell, you can eat.”

It was good to see that Terry seemed to have lost his desperate-to-please attitude. He was calmly confident now. Perhaps he was normal after all!

Jake had also been moved into Ward 2 when Daniel got back, so all the induced coma patients were together. This ward was to be guarded by either Charlie or Steve. Matthew was already dealing with another patient in Ward 1.

“What have I missed?” Daniel asked.

“Jimmy Springer. He’s not for admission. Cut his hand when his chisel slipped. Again.” He turned to the man and laughed. “You’ve got to be the most accident-prone man at the Extraction Facility, Jimmy,” he said. “OK, then, go and wait in the canteen until they can pick you up.”

“Does he know the way?” Daniel asked.

“He should do, he’s been here often enough!”

Jimmy laughed. “I guess I just don’t concentrate on what I’m doing sometimes. Too many other thoughts in my head. Either that, or I’m getting old.”

“Go on, Jimmy. Go and wait in the canteen. I’ll call you when your taxi’s here.”

Chapter 14

Glenn could hear the raised voices before he reached the dormitory.

“You think everybody’s taken in by you, innit?” Billy was saying to Graeme, who lay on his bed with a smug grin on his face. The new, improved Graeme was a thing of the past.

Graeme shook his head slowly, with a long-suffering look normally reserved for recalcitrant two-year-olds.

“Billy, you are a little boy who’s never grown up. Nobody listens to you. They didn’t listen to you back home, and they don’t listen to you here. You are a failure. A complete and utter failure. If you were a dog, I’d take you to the pound and tell the warden to put you down. And do you know what? Nobody would miss you. Do you get that? Nobody would miss you. Because you are just an insignificant little jerk.”

“What’s the matter with you two?” Glenn asked. “Look, come on guys, I know it’s not always easy living in close quarters with people you didn’t choose to be with, but we’re all in the same boat. It’s difficult for everybody at times, but we don’t have a choice. If we want the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, we’ve got to make an effort.”

It was obviously falling on deaf ears.

“You think I don’t know what you’re up to, you and that geezer from the library?” Billy said. “You can’t have secrets in a place like this, you know. Things get around, so you want to be careful.”

“You mean secrets like those envelopes that pass between you and the management? You think nobody’s noticed? Well, we all know what you’re up to.”

“You’re talking a load of crap!” Billy started laughing, which probably didn’t help things. “You’d best watch what you’re up to, because you’re going to fall flat on your arse!”

“I don’t need advice from a twat like you!” Graeme retorted.

“OK. I’ve had enough,” Glenn said. “I’m going to the library. I’ll come back when you’re both asleep.”

A different person was behind the desk in the library.

“No Terry today?” Glenn asked.

“No, he’s been over at Base Camp 2 today, helping set up the new library. He should be back any minute.”

“Thanks.” Glenn found himself a cubicle and logged in as Shylock. He checked through the information given on Daniel’s background again. ‘Children: none’. He hadn’t been mistaken, but none of it made sense. They had even seen a photograph of her, and he’d been allowed video calls to her. One of which Glenn himself had witnessed. But then the photograph disappeared, and Daniel didn’t mention her anymore.

Could she have died while he was away? That would be tough.

There had to be more information in there, if only he knew where to find it. He logged out and found a game of Solitaire instead. But he couldn’t concentrate, so he headed for the canteen.

Terry was already back, sitting at a table on his own, so Glenn collected his meal and a bottle of water and joined him.

“Hi, Glenn! It’s good to see you again. What have you been up to?”

“Not a lot.” Glenn sat down at the table.

“I’ve been over at Base Camp 2,” Terry volunteered, before Glenn could ask. “We’re setting up another library. It’s really exciting.”

“Is this the first time you’ve been there?”

“No, I go over there quite a lot now, since the library project started. I was lucky enough to be involved in the initial planning. In fact I’ve been pushing for it for a long time. You can’t have a load of men just working, eating, and sleeping, then going back to work again. They need some recreation, time to themselves. Have you ever been over there?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s mainly the Medical Facility, apart from that all they’ve got is a canteen and a day-room and that’s about it. If they want something to read, they have to ask a driver to get it when he comes here. It’s not ideal if you like to read. Well, as it happens, a man back home has died and left us his entire collection of books, they should be on the next shuttle. I don’t know if we’ll keep them here, or at Base Camp 2. Probably split them, I expect.”

“What, real paper books?”

“Yes. Isn’t it amazing!”

“So what are you actually doing over there, yourself?”

“At the moment, I’m downloading and copying all the e-books from here, and will be putting them on Base Camp 2’s system, so the guys can access them in their spare time. Then I’ve got to do the DVDs and the music section. There’s loads of work.”

“It sounds fascinating. I love books. Had loads of them back home, before things . . . went wrong.”

“That’s a shame. I’d be lost without books. Even the guys who never used to read back home, they soon come to rely on them after a few weeks here.” Terry paused for a moment. “Are you very busy in Human Resources?”

“Not really. We’ll have a bit more to do when the new intake arrives in a couple of weeks.”

Terry nodded. “How would you like to help me for the odd day now and then? I could have a word with Michael, if you like.”

“You could? That would be great. Things are getting really heavy in my dorm. Daniel’s moved out, and the other two, they just don’t get on. They were at it like a pair of old fish-wives when I came out tonight.”

“Do you know anything about the Dewey Decimal System?”

“I wouldn’t go as far as saying all ten sections were engraved on my heart, but it’s a classification system I’m familiar with and I know roughly how it works if I want to find a book.”

“That’s good enough for me. I’ll have a word with Michael in the morning.”

Glenn and Terry chatted for a long time, then Glenn went back to the library with him and was shown more of the inner workings of the system. By the time he got back to the dormitory, both Graeme and Billy were sleeping, although the light was still on, but dim. He sat down on his bed, glad of the coffee machine and hand basin coming between them. He took his night -time sedation and put the remains of his bottle of water on the locker by his bed. He then undressed, throwing his clothes on the floor in a heap. The gel in his bed was starting to go soft and the familiar green pill was already beginning to do its stuff.

When he woke up in the morning, Graeme had already left, as the canteen had to be open for everybody starting work. At least that meant there would be no more rows for a while. Billy sat up in his bed.

“Misery Guts gone?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God for that. I don’t know what’s got into him. Why haven’t they done his blood levels recently? He needs fixing again. He was OK after the last time—for a few days, anyway. Then he went back to normal. D’you reckon they got any rat poison in that canteen?”

Glenn laughed. “I wouldn’t think so. They haven’t got any rats.”

“They got one big bastard!”

“Apart from him.”

Billy grinned for a moment then looked serious again. “You know what? I know that bastard is up to something.”

“What do you mean, ‘up to something’? Like what? There’s nothing to get up to here.”

“He’s been pretending to be so nice recently, bringing us stuff from the canteen and that. That’s not normal. Not the natural Graeme.”

“What is normal here? Or natural?”

“You know what I mean. He’s up to something. Always disappearing off somewhere. Coming back late. It’s not like he’s got any friends, is it? Except that Terry in the library, and he slags him off behind his back.”

“I didn’t know they were friends. He always refers to him as Terry the Twat. I thought he didn’t like him.”

“He probably doesn’t. But Graeme’s a user. He’s probably got Terry getting him dirty books—pornography, or something— ‘cos Terry hasn’t got any friends, either.” Billy put on his yellow hat, and fiddled with it for a while, trying to line it up perfectly on his head.

“Terry Blaine’s a Section Leader. He doesn’t need friends,” Glenn said. “His books are his friends, anyway. Jesus! Let’s hope he hasn’t offered Graeme a job at Base Camp 2 as well!”

“You know why you never actually see him serving in the canteen, although he works there?”

“Never really thought about it.”

“It’s because he’s such a stroppy sod, they won’t let him deal with customers or else there’d be too many complaints. He’d be tipping their soup over them if they upset him!”

“I thought perhaps he’d got experience of cooking, and that was why they have him in the kitchen rather than serving customers.”

“He don’t cook nothing,” Billy scoffed. “Nobody does. Just stick it in a microwave, that’s all they do here. I tell you what, though, I don’t like the idea of him preparing my food. He might be spitting in it for all I know.”

“He wouldn’t get away with that. It’s not like he’s the only one there.”

“No, but those two lads that work there, they’re both younger than him. He’s not officially in charge there, but I bet he gets his own way.”

“Don’t worry. You order what you want from one of the lads, and he tells Graeme what is wanted. He doesn’t say who it’s for, does he?”

“I suppose you’re right, but I don’t trust the bastard.”

“You said you thought he was up to something. What do you mean?”

“Can’t really put my finger on it. There’s something going on, though. Graeme isn’t a people person, but recently, he’s been kind of cosying up to Terry the Twat. He’s also been very chatty with Gabriel, his boss. Asking him how he is, and that sort of stuff, rather than just saying hello.”

“He and Terry are both in Catering and Recreation now, though. They will have more to do with each other.”

“Graeme always has ulterior motives, believe me.”

“Sort of empire building? Like he’s suddenly decided he needs the right people around him. Perhaps he thinks he’s due for promotion, and wants somebody to notice what a nice guy he is.”

“He spends a lot of time at the canteen, I know that. After he should have finished work, he’s always there until late, cleaning and tidying up.”

Glenn looked up at the wall clock. “Come on, it’s time we moved our arses. Are you going in the shower first, or shall I?”

When they reached the canteen, there was quite a queue, and several people were sitting down at the tables drinking coffee, but with no food.

“What’s the problem?” Glenn asked the lad at the serving hatch.

“Graeme. He hasn’t turned up yet. He’s in your dorm, isn’t he? Did he come in with you? Sorry, guys, we’re doing the best we can, here.”

“No. I haven’t seen him this morning. When I got up, he had already left.”

At that moment, Graeme arrived, a big smile on his face.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he went in through the door into the kitchen, “I overslept.”

Billy and Glenn looked at each other. “Lying bastard. Told you he was up to something,” Billy said, after they had given their order and sat down to wait. “Want some coffee?”

“No, thanks. I’ve got water.”

“Why did he say he’d overslept?”

Glenn shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno. First excuse he could think of, I suppose.”

When Glenn arrived at Human Resources, Michael called him into his office and immediately asked him about Graeme. There was no point in lying. Michael had a way of asking questions that he already knew the answer to, just to keep you on your toes.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said. “When Billy and I woke up he had already left.”

“But you saw him last night?”

“Yes. He was arguing with Billy. I went to the library for a couple of hours, and when I came back, they were both in their beds, sleeping. This morning when I woke up, he wasn’t there. We got to the canteen and the guys were struggling. He turned up a few minutes later, and said he’d overslept.”

“And how was he last night?”

“Very stroppy. He’s been kind of—difficult—recently. Unsociable, most of the time. Perhaps he’s got something on his mind. I remember he had trouble settling in when we first started.”

Michael nodded. “He’s a bloody nuisance, I know that. Gabriel needs to do something about him. Perhaps a few days at Base Camp 2.” He picked up his pager, as though he was going to call somebody. “OK, Glenn. That’s all. Thank you.”

The morning dragged for Glenn, as it often did. He only hoped Terry would be able to get him a couple of days respite. He didn’t see Billy at lunch time, but Graeme came over to his table as he was eating his lunch.

“Everything OK?” he asked, with a big smile on his face. “Sorry about this morning. We were running a bit late. Can’t get the staff, you know.” He waited for Glenn to say something. “It’s sorted now. Won’t happen again, I’ve warned them.”

Glenn couldn’t believe his ears. I’ve warned them? Was Graeme seriously trying to pretend the lads were to blame when everybody knew that he was the one who was late? He continued eating until Graeme said, “Must get back to work.”

The two men sitting at the next table laughed.

“Would you believe it?” one of them said. “I saw him come in late this morning, and he’s trying to blame somebody else.”

“That’s Graeme for you,” Glenn said.

After work had finished, Billy and Glenn met in the canteen for dinner.

“I’m going to the library tonight,” Billy said. “You coming?”

“Just for half an hour, then.” It would give him an excuse to remind Terry that he was still available.

They watched a DVD together, then Glenn decided to head back to the dorm. There was something about boring office work; it made you tired. Terry was at his desk when he left and called him over.

“I’ve had a word with Michael, and he’s thinking about it. I think that means yes, but he’s got to work out when he can spare you.”

“Great! Can’t happen too soon.”

Back at the dormitory, Graeme was in the living room area reading an e-book. Unusual for him.

“Sorry about last night,” he said.

“Last night?”

Two apologies in twenty four hours!

“The argument with Billy. I can’t get on with that guy.”

Glenn sat down in the armchair opposite him.

“What was it all about, then?”

“He knows I’m on to him. That’s the problem. Of course, Michael’s protecting him, so there’s not much I can do at the moment. But he’s not getting away with it.”

“Have I missed something? Honestly, Graeme, if there’s something going on, I don’t know about it.”

“I told you. Michael’s paying him to spy on us. All of us. Haven’t you seen those envelopes he gets off Michael every week or so? Michael’s paying him.”

“Are you sure?” Just go along with him! “I mean, if Michael was asking him to spy on us, why would he do it? He doesn’t care what we do, as long as we do our work and keep the rules.”

“Michael likes to know what’s going on. They all do.”

“Yes. I can understand that. Have you seen what’s inside those envelopes? Do you know for definite that it’s money?”

“It’s got to be.”

“But you haven’t actually seen it?”

“No. He never opens them in front of anybody else.”

“Well, there’s no point in giving somebody money while we’re here, is there? We don’t use money. It doesn’t make sense when you think about it. Michael could easily have money transferred into Billy’s account and nobody would know anything about it. He doesn’t need to be giving it to him in an envelope, like he’s a politician taking a back-hander.”

“But he does. We’ve both seen it happen.”

Glenn tried to stay calm. “If Michael was doing anything underhand, he’s been around long enough to make sure he wasn’t seen doing it. People in charge don’t stay in charge if they do anything to compromise themselves. If Billy was giving him information, he’d call him into his office, and he could pay him there and then. He wouldn’t need to give him money, in an envelope so everybody can see. And like I said, we don’t use money here; he could simply pay it into Billy’s bank.”

“Perhaps he’s blackmailing Michael.”

“Michael would find ways of dealing with that. He wouldn’t keep on paying up. He’d get somebody o reprogram him, or whatever they do.”

Graeme seemed to think about it for a while. “But we’ve seen it happen. We know Michael’s giving him money for something. Regularly.”

“We know that now and then Michael gives him an envelope with something in it. But we don’t know it’s money, do we?”

“Suppose not.” Suddenly he said, “I think he’s jealous.”

“Jealous? Who is? Michael?”

“Billy. He’s jealous of me. He hates to see somebody getting on, making something of himself. I’ve got a little—something—going, you see, that could make me a lot of money. I’m not saying any more, but I think he’s got wind of it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Graeme, honestly. You’re saying you’re planning to do something to make yourself a bit of money on the side, and Billy might have found out? Then he goes and reports it to Michael?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“Then Michael pays him for the information?”

“Yes.”

“So why does Michael pay him again and again, and, come to that, why aren’t you on the next shuttle home?”

The next morning, the situation in the canteen was the same. Once more, Graeme was not to be seen and the two young lads were trying to cope on their own.

“This is getting to be a habit!” a man complained from the front of the queue. “We’ve got to get to work, you know.”

“Sorry, Graeme’s getting stores ready for Base Camp 2,” one of the boys said. “We’re doing our best.”

At that point, Gabriel, Graeme’s boss arrived on the scene, and pushed his way through the queue into the kitchen. Glenn could hear raised voices. Surely Graeme wasn’t answering Gabriel back?

Eventually, he and Billy got served and sat down with their food.

Glenn shook his head. “How does he get away with it?”

By the time he reached Human Resources, Glenn was already preparing his explanation to Michael, but he got there and clocked in with a minute to spare, and Michael was safely tucked away at his desk. Glenn had started copying a list of names for the new intake when Michael called him into his office.

“Glenn,” he said, with his best friendly uncle smile, “I’ve had a request. Do sit down.”

Glenn did so.

“Terence has requested some help with setting up the new library on Base Camp 2,” he said, “and your name has been put forward.”

“Oh?” Glenn thought he ought to look surprised. Michael liked you to know he was in charge.

“It will only be until it’s all set up, of course, then you’ll be back here.”

“Right. Sounds good.”

“What are you actually working on at the moment?”

“Staff details for the new intake, sir.”

“OK. Finish that, but don’t start anything else. Let me know when it’s done.”

“Right.”

Glenn returned to his seat and finished his job, then shredded the paperwork and logged out before he knocked on Michael’s door.

“I’ve finished the new intake,” he said.

“Great. Go and report to Terence in the library. I don’t want you starting anything else and getting halfway through it, and I don’t want you holding up the rover, either.”

Terry the Twat seemed pleased to see him. “I’m so glad Michael was OK about it,” he said. “There’s nothing much you can do until we get to Base Camp 2, so find yourself somewhere quiet and watch a DVD or something, then come back here in an hour. If I need you before then, I’ll come and find you.”

“Do I need to take anything with me?” he asked. “I’ve no idea how long I’ll be there.”

“I don’t know either,” Terry said. “Think in terms of perhaps three days, but it could be longer. Roger will give you a lift back here if you need anything. He’s good like that.”

“Is there a launderette or do they have Gremlins to collect the washing?”

“Yes. They have Gremlins. It’s quite civilised over there. You might as well go and get the stuff you need now, then find yourself a DVD to watch until we’re ready for you.

“OK. See you in a bit.”

It only took him a few minutes to grab half the contents of his locker, shove it into his travel bag, then return to the library. There was no sign of Terry, so he found himself a quiet cubicle and flicked through the DVDs. There was nothing that would last for less than an hour, though, so he found some music. Then he logged on as Shylock. Just one last look. He desperately wanted to get to the bottom of this business about Daniel’s daughter—or lack of one. It was beginning to look as though the child had died, but Shylock should never log in from Base Camp 2. But, perhaps just once wouldn’t hurt.

There was nothing. The only thing he found was another link he had not noticed before. He clicked on it, but it dropped him back at the homepage. He logged out.

When the time came to leave for Base Camp 2, he got suited up and took a seat next to Terry, near the front of the Surface Roving Vehicle. It was the first time he had travelled across the surface of the Moon in daylight. They were about to depart, when a man with a large box got in, and sat beside the driver.

“Do you ever get sick of this scenery?” he asked Terry, hardly able to tear his eyes from the window.

“It’s not so hot when you have to do it in the dark,” he said.

The journey was longer than he had expected, but Glenn wasn’t complaining. Eventually, about four hours later, they arrived at Base Camp 2.

“There’s nothing there!” Glenn exclaimed, “I can only see one building.”

“Base Camp 2 is mainly underground. You wouldn’t believe how big it is. They spent literally years excavating this place before anybody actually moved in. Plus, there were some tunnels already there. Nobody knows who built them.”

As soon as they disembarked, they were taken through the first airlock to a room with a big notice-board that said, ‘Departure Lounge’. Somebody had a sense of humour! He looked around. The first thing he noticed was the familiar smell of the pine scented air-freshener was missing. And no music, either.

Then Terry led him through two airlocks to the locker room, where he removed his pressure suit and stowed it in a locker, which already had his name on.

“They knew I was coming, then?” he laughed.

“They know everything,” Terry said, perhaps a little more seriously.

It was then he heard a familiar voice that caused him to turn round. The man who had arrived at the last minute with the box. It was Graeme!

“What’s he doing here?” Glenn whispered.

“Graeme? Oh, the canteen must have run out of something essential. He has to bring stuff over now and then. He says he doesn’t mind doing it if it keeps the men happy.”

“That doesn’t sound like Graeme,” Glenn retorted. “He usually wouldn’t give a shit about the men being happy.”

Chapter 15

Terry obviously had his priorities right, Glenn decided, as the first stop was the dormitory to drop off their bags, then the canteen. Everything was easy enough to find, as, like in Base Camp 1, the routes were marked out along the corridors with coloured tape. The dormitory was similar, also with four beds—although these were bunk-beds—sitting-room, shower and toilet, lockers, bedside cabinets, music and coffee machine. It was like coming back home.

“This is my bed,” Terry said, sitting down on the nearest one. “That’s Gino’s, above mine. He works in the canteen. Well, he runs the canteen is more like it. And that’s Lloyd’s. He’s in the pharmacy. Hopefully you won’t need to meet him, except in the canteen!”

Glenn sat down on the only free bed. “This’ll do me fine,” he said, dumping his bag down. “Should I unpack now?”

“No. I wouldn’t. You’ll be glad of something to do tonight! OK. Now I’ll show you the canteen. We might as well get a cup of coffee before we start,” Terry said.

Glenn produced a bottle of water from his bag. “I’ll stick to this for now,” he said. “Coffee never really quenches my thirst.”

“You need to drink it, though. You need to make sure you don’t get dehydrated.”

“Oh, I do,” Glenn assured him, “but I’d rather drink water.”

The canteen was conveniently close to the dormitory. Terry walked over to the serving hatch and called, “Gino!”

There was none of the irritating music.

A young man of obvious Italian origin appeared at the opening.

“Hi, Terry! You back again? How’s the new library going?”

“It’s actually got off the ground at last. Should be up and running in a couple of days, perhaps a week. This is my assistant, Glenn. He’s over here for a few days to help me download stuff from the Base Camp 1 library. So be nice to him.”

“Hi, Glenn. Welcome to the outback! Have those two techies gone back now?” he asked Terry.

“Yes. They were only doing the basic set-up and sorting out the electrics. We’ve got the good stuff to do, me and Glenn. Downloading the books and music, staff records. It’s going to be interesting.”

Staff records?

“Sounds great. By the way, Jimmy Springer was here again yesterday. He asked about you.”

“Me? Oh! He’s had another accident, has he?” He turned to Glenn. “Jimmy Springer works at the Extraction Facility. He’s always having accidents. Never known a guy like him. Nothing serious, but there’s always something wrong with Jimmy. He’s become a bit of a joke actually. I’m surprised they haven’t sent him home, but he’s a bit older than most of the lads and I suppose he’s useful to keep them in line.

“Right, we’re not stopping, I’m here to show Glenn where everything is. We’ll see you later. Come on, Glenn, next stop the library.”

Jimmy Springer! Glenn remembered that name.

The new library was smaller than the one at Base Camp 1, but a similar design. The reception desk was already in place, equipped with a computer, and a sign on the counter which read, ‘Reception’. Like, in case anybody didn’t realise.

There wasn’t a lot of physical stock at all, and what there was, was still in cardboard boxes in the middle of the floor. The library was basically open plan, with comfortable chairs dotted around in groups of three and four. Separate cubicles ran around two sides for those who preferred somewhere quiet.

They spent the first couple of hours putting up signage to indicate where things were to be found, and fixing numbers to the doors of the cubicles.

“Daniel works over here now,” Glenn said. “Do you think we’ll see him?”

“Yes, probably. You’ll certainly meet up with him in the canteen some time. Gino will probably tell him you’re here, anyway. The canteen’s always first stop for gossip. Actually,” he said, “I could page him and tell him you’re here.”

“Thanks. That would be good.”

He typed something into his pager. “There you go. I texted Daniel, so he’ll know you’re here. He’s got a lot of very dependent patients at the moment, so he can’t get a regular lunch break. It’s a question of when they can spare him.”

“Could I take a quick look where he works, just to say hello?”

“No. They’re paranoid about cross-infection at the moment. But you’ll see him in the canteen sooner or later.”

“Fair enough.”

He glanced at Terry, trying to take in how much he had changed over the last couple of weeks. Back at Base Camp 1, he had been a figure of fun, a bit of a nerd, possibly even a bit gay. No friends, and desperate for people to like him. Somehow, he had metamorphosed into this confident man, who was in charge and could get things done. Weird or what?

By lunch time, they could see some progress, and by the end of the shift they were congratulating each other on their achievements.

“There’s not a lot to do here after work,” Terry said, as they sat in the canteen. “That’s why I thought it was so important to set up a library. Give the men some access to movies and music, at least. And somewhere to sit and relax after work, apart from the canteen or the dormitory. We’ll start downloading tomorrow.”

“That’ll be interesting. What about a gym, though?” Glenn suggested. “That would be good, too. We spend so much time sitting down in this job, it’s difficult to keep fit.”

“There’s an American base nearby,” Terry said. “They have a gym. They come over here for medical treatment when they need it, but we never get invited over there.”

“Why not?”

“Security. They’re all top scientists,” Terry explained. “Hush-hush top-secret stuff. You can’t go anywhere without a pass. That sort of stuff.”

“You mean it’s run by the government, not private individuals like Mr Goldblatt?”

“So they say. I think it’s more likely to be CIA. Or the military.”

“Shit! Heavy stuff!”

“Mm. You could say.”

After dinner, Glenn retired to the dormitory. It didn’t take him long to unpack his few things. Gino was relaxing in the sitting-room, listening to some music from an obscure twentieth century band he’d never heard of.

“What’s for breakfast tomorrow, Gino?” he asked, sitting down in one of the armchairs in the far corner.

“Scrambled eggs, I’m afraid. Same every day, but you’ll get used to it. I’m going to do boiled eggs on Sunday, for a change, though,” he grinned.

“That will be good,” Glenn said. “When is it Sunday?”

“I don’t know, the days are all the same here, but soon as I find out, I’ll do boiled eggs.”

“How long have you been here?”

Gino bit his lip, and thought for a moment. Like everybody else, he didn’t seem to know the answer.

“I’m not sure. Not long, but I’ve never been able to work out when it’s Sunday yet,” he said finally.

The next morning before work, Terry had a big grin on his face. “I’ve got something for you,” he said. “While we’re over here, at least, you get your own pager, and,” he held a small pager up in the air and fumbled in the pocket of his trousers, finally pulling out a piece of paper, “you also need higher security clearance to log into some of the stuff you’ll be downloading, so here’s your new password.”

“Great,” Glenn said, taking it from him and looking at the number. It was a similar series of numbers to the one given to him by Michael. The one he’d hung onto. “What can I do now that I couldn’t do before?”

“Not a lot,” admitted Terry. “The pager’s only short range. It does mean I can call you out of the canteen if I need you, though. And it does mean that you can contact Daniel, but I know you won’t abuse it.”

He quickly showed Glenn how to use the pager and said, “My number is in there, and I’ll put in Daniel’s. You shouldn’t need anything else. Security’s on there, in case of an accident or reportable incident. Their number, 111, is automatically put on all the pagers before they’re issued.”

He handed it to Glenn, who pressed a few buttons to see what they did.

“The higher-level password simply means that you can assess staff records that need higher clearance than you would have needed in Human Resources. You’ll need to do that to give everybody access to the new library facilities. Michael said you had been dealing with basic level stuff most of the time, but he was happy about the way you handled the personal information you had access to.”

“Michael’s OK. I know he upset a few people, but I always got on with him.” But I wouldn’t trust him further than I could throw him.

“We’ll get some leisure stuff downloaded today, probably music first because it’s quicker than movies, and then we need to make sure the men have authority to access it. I’ll show you how to do that later. It’s no good stuff just sitting there if nobody can use it, is it?”

Glenn rather hoped the job wouldn’t finish too soon. Then he’d have to go back to boring old Human Resources. Terry was easy to get on with, as well. He was in charge, but didn’t make it obvious, it was like he was working with him, rather than for him. And they shared a love of books.

When it was his break time, he paged Daniel, but Daniel wasn’t able to go to lunch at that time. He paged back, ‘Hi. What time do you finish tonight?’

Eventually they managed to arrange to meet up at six-thirty in the canteen when they would both be finished—at least, unless Daniel had an emergency.

The afternoon flew by. There were new things to learn all the time and by the end of the day, Glenn had downloaded and categorised the entire classical music section and given access to all the men on the list which Terry had given him.

“Shred that list,” Terry told him after he had finished.

Terry didn’t ask him if he had shredded it, but Glenn did catch him taking a discrete look in the waste bin of the shredder. Finally, at the end of the working day, they got to catch up with Daniel in the canteen.

Terry was surprisingly casual when he met Daniel again.

“Hi Daniel, how you doing?” No more the simpering puppy dog, desperate for friends.

“Would it be OK if I show Daniel what we’ve been doing?” Glenn asked Terry. “He’s particularly interested in the progress of the library at the moment, because he’s doing his medical exams, and has to go over to Base Camp 1 to get computer access all the time.”

“Really? We’ll have a look at that tomorrow,” Terry said. “See if we can give it priority. Yes, no problem. Take him to see the library. It will be a public area available to all staff soon, anyway.”

They finished their meal, and Glenn led the way to the library, while Terry retired to the dormitory.

“Is this a permanent job, or what?” Daniel asked as they followed the corridor along.

“No. It’s only for a few days while Terry gets this set up. Then it’s back to counting paper-clips for me.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of it, if you play your cards right. They’re going to need somebody here when Terry goes back to Base Camp 1.”

They reached the library, and the lights came on as Glenn swiped them in through the door.

“We’ve got cubicles, like Base Camp 1, so if you want to study quietly, here’s where you can get away from it all.”

“Not much chance of that at the moment. We’ve been really busy the last couple of days.”

“Mining accidents?”

“No. I haven’t seen many of those. There’s—I don’t know what to call it. Some of the men seem to be—”. Again he was stuck for words. “It’s like they are having trouble adapting. Mentally. And some of them have been here a while.”

“What, like Graeme was? When they took him away, and then they brought him back and he was almost bearable?”

“No. Not quite. Worse than that—physically attacking each other. We don’t know what is causing it, so we don’t know how to treat them. They all seem to be from the American base, somehow.”

“Ah! Billy was telling me there were American bases here. Been here for years, according to him.”

“They’re definitely here. It’s no secret, in fact they’re our best customers at the moment.” Daniel laughed, then said, “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. It’s a serious matter. When you see the Angels worried, it means there’s really something to worry about.”

“How many have you got that are—affected?”

“At the moment there are ten.”

They sat together chatting for quite a while about nothing at all, but there was little else to do in the evenings anyway. At least Base Camp 1 had a gym.

“Can I access the stuff that’s in here now?” Daniel asked.

“Technically, yes,” Glenn said. “I remember your name coming up on the list for access yesterday, but at the moment there’s only classical music. I’ll be adding more music tomorrow, though, and now Terry says your medical course will be a priority, so I’ll let you know when it’s available.”

“That will be great. I really don’t want to have to travel over to Base Camp 1 every time I need to do an interactive, or access the next material. It’s such a waste of time. Especially now, when we’re so busy.”

“You like it here?”

“Yes. It’s great. I only wish they’d put me here when I first started.”

“My work is much more interesting too. Perhaps that’s how it happens; they give you something really shit to do and see if you can hack it, and if you do, they give you a better job. By the way, you’ll never guess who came over on the rover with us. Graeme!”

“Old Misery Guts?”

“Yes. He’s running the canteen now in Base Camp 1 and he came over to bring supplies.”

“What a shame I missed him. I’m going to regret that moment all my life!

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Danny Boy.”

“Perhaps not, but sometimes it’s the only thing that’s appropriate.”

“By the way,” Glenn said, “have you managed any more contact with your daughter?”

“My daughter?” Daniel looked thoughtful. “No. I think it’s best I forget about that chapter in my life,” he said.

“Why? Raphael was going to get things sorted out for you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m never going to see her again. Or my wife. I’ve got a life here now, where I’m actually doing some good.”

“But you will be able to see her again. When you get back home, you’ll have enough money to go to America. You’ll be able to afford a good lawyer. Daniel, you can change your future.”

“Yes, somebody said something about that once.”

“About a lawyer?”

“No. About changing the future.”

Glenn was about to ask him what he meant, when Daniel’s pager bleeped. He looked at the message.

“Damn!” he said. “There’s been another casualty brought in. I’ve got to go.” He got up straight away.

“OK. I’ll look out for you tomorrow some time.”

“Sure.”

Glenn watched him leave the library and wondered what to do next. He too, would be glad when the library was up and running.

He checked in his pocket that he had some tokens, and went to the canteen for a bottle of water. Graeme was sitting in the far corner, where he was drinking water, too.

“I thought I saw you yesterday,” Glenn said, collecting his bottle from Gino, and reluctantly joining Graeme in the corner.

“We’re doing a stock take of the canteen while I’m here,” he said. “The rover isn’t going back until tomorrow, so I thought it would be a good idea. Has to be done every couple of months, and it’s easier with two of you.”

“Yes. Makes sense.”

“How long are you going to be here for?”

“Only a few days. Until we get the new library set up, then I’ll be back to Base Camp 1.”

Graeme nodded. Suddenly he turned round as somebody else appeared at the door of the canteen. A big man, perhaps six foot, with the look of a broken-down prize-fighter, and a bandage on one hand. Graeme went over to him before he actually reached the counter.

Glenn looked down and studied the label on his bottle of water.

“I thought you were coming yesterday,” the man said.

“Sorry. There was a bit of a cock-up with the transport.”

“Is it sorted? I had to come back again today, and I can’t keep doing that.”

“How did you manage it?”

“My stitches came out, didn’t they?”

“Right. Good thinking, Jimmy. Give me two minutes. I’ll get my bag, it’s in the kitchen. Wait there.”

Jimmy stood at the door, waiting, while Glenn continued to read the label on his bottle of water, and Graeme slipped into the kitchen.

“Don’t get up, Gino, I’m just going to get my stuff and go back to the dorm,” Graeme called.

Gino replied something in a muffled tone, and Graeme emerged seconds later, carrying a battered leather travel bag. He completely ignored Glenn but left the canteen with the man he called Jimmy. Then, as they dropped out of sight, Glenn saw Graeme hand the bag to him.

He sipped his water for a while, trying to make it last. He knew what music he had downloaded, and he didn’t fancy listening to any of it. Funny how that old-fashioned music is almost revered, although most people don’t even like it.

However, there was no point in sitting in the canteen on his own all night, so he thought about going back to the library to see if he could still log in as Shylock, maybe give Shylock access, but Base Camp 2 was a small place, and if anybody decided to check on this non-existent member of staff, he would be compromised.

It wasn’t worth the risk. Especially as Daniel seemed to have lost all interest in the daughter who his records said he didn’t have anyway. Curiosity had always been Glenn’s weakness, and sometimes it got him into trouble. But not this time! He was being too careful.

He headed back to his dormitory, to a comfortable bed and his e-reader.

Chapter 16

He managed to meet Daniel in the canteen at lunch-time the next day, but it was not until nearly three. Fortunately, Terry was easy going, and as long as the work was progressing, he wasn’t bothered what time he took his breaks.

“How’s it going?” Glenn asked Daniel as they sat down.

“Busy. We’ve had to open up another ward. We keep getting more patients, and it’s proving impossible to find out what is causing it.”

“Can’t you do blood tests?”

“Blood tests are only useful if you know what you’re looking for, but there isn’t a magic setting on the machine where you press a button, and the diagnosis comes up. You have to ask the right questions, and sometimes you don’t know which questions to ask. Anyway, I probably shouldn’t be discussing this with you.”

“Well, at least you’re not likely to be out of work in the near future.”

“How much longer are you going to be here?” Daniel asked. “Have they told you yet?”

“No. Like I said, it’s only until this job is finished, and it’s all coming together quite quickly. Today I’ve been downloading more stuff, and that should be about everything. We marked up the direction signage along the corridor this morning, so the library officially exists.” He stopped and took out his pager. “Do these things work long distance, do you reckon?”

“I always thought they were just internal,” Daniel said, “but they can’t be, because people need to be able to call for a rover driver when he’s needed, wherever he is. We can give it a try when you go back to Base Camp 1.”

“Do the Angels have the same pagers as us?”

“I don’t know. They look the same, but they might have different settings built in.”

Glenn nodded. Daniel picked up his plate and drained his coffee cup.

“I need to get back. We have patients who need hourly observations, and Matthew’s on nights. Are you staying here?”

“Terry said, ‘Don’t rush back,’ but I’d rather be doing something than just sitting here.”

Daniel laughed. “We’re a right pair of workaholics!”

Terry was sitting in one of the new chairs in the library when Glenn got back.

“A couple more days should see this finished,” he said.

“Then I’m back to Base Camp 1?”

“Not necessarily.” Terry leaned back in his chair. “How would you feel about staying here, and running this set-up when it’s finished?”

“Me?”

“We need somebody here full time. When the men start using it, they won’t have a clue what to do, unless they’re from Base Camp 1. Somebody needs to be there to tell them what’s available, and lay down a few rules for the benefit of everybody. There’s nobody else who knows the system like you do. I’ve had a few helpers from time to time at Base Camp 1, but none of them have been any good, really. You know what I mean—nobody who I thought I wanted to hang on to. They weren’t really interested in the job. Whoever runs this will have to be here full time. You’ll need to issue clearances to the new intakes, download new stuff, there’ll be plenty to do.”

“Have you mentioned this to anybody yet?”

“I ran it by Gabriel, and he thinks it’s a good idea. Michael would have to agree, of course, but there’s a shuttle in a week or so, bringing new staff, so he’s not going to be left short-handed.”

“In that case, I’ll say yes.”

Terry’s fingers ran to the small healing scar on his head.

“What did you do to your head?”

“Nothing. It was just a little cyst. Zophiel took it out.”

By the end of the day, all the music had been downloaded, and a large number of the movies.

“What about Daniel’s course?” he asked, “Can we do that some time? It’s important that he can fit it in with his work, and I know they’re quite busy now, so they won’t want him going backwards and forwards to Base Camp 1 all the time.”

“That’s OK,” Terry said. “Mr Goldblatt is all in favour of people studying and improving their minds. I’ve got the links you need, so you can do it in the morning.”

“I wouldn’t mind staying on and doing it after dinner,” Glenn volunteered. “In fact I could stay here for an hour or so now.”

“You should get out more!” Terry got up from his comfortable seat. “Come on then, let’s get you started.”

Glenn walked over to the nearest computer and switched it on, while Terry found the link he needed.

“When you’ve downloaded it, do a test to make sure it’s all running smoothly, and then find Daniel’s ID code on the system and give him access. I’ll give you the codes for the other people who should have access tomorrow, when I’ve looked them up. I’m going for my dinner now, so I’ll see you in the morning.”

Glenn took his time. There wasn’t much else to do apart from work anyway, except eat and sleep, so he wasn’t in a hurry. He looked through the music he had downloaded earlier during the day and found something to listen to on his headphones while he worked. Then he started the job of downloading and testing the complete medical training course. When he had finished, all he had to do was to access Daniel’s personal ID and give him access.

The higher clearance opened a whole new world of information to him. The link, that wouldn’t open for him before, suddenly gave him access. It was like reading somebody’s diary—he knew he shouldn’t be doing it, but he couldn’t stop.

He took a deep breath. This was Daniel’s past life on the screen in front of him, but another life. Another Daniel Alexander? Must be. Nothing fitted with anything he had read before. Or anything Daniel had told him. Stuff maybe known only to the upper echelons of the Goldblatt Institute.

Links to a Red Cross document—in French, which he couldn’t read. There was something handwritten and signed at the bottom, that seemed to refer to the death of ‘sa femme’, his wife, and the name Tabitha was legible. There were also newspaper headlines of the time, both local and national, and references to old television news programmes, appeared before his eyes as more and more conflicting evidence was revealed.

It seemed Daniel had worked in some Eastern European town, whose name Glenn didn’t waste time trying to pronounce. That made sense—he’d mentioned volunteering in the Balkans before—but where did the Red Cross come in? And who was this Luka Milenkovic, who it seemed, had been killed by Russian Special Forces?

Then finally, what looked like an internal memo from somewhere: Tabitha: The final days? Could anyone really write about the death of a child in that way? But so much was redacted that he was never going to find out.

How had all this suddenly appeared on Daniel’s HR records here, when there was nothing about it previously? Every time he looked at these records, something had been changed. Was someone fucking with his head?

Glenn’s mind was buzzing for the rest of the evening. He returned to the dorm and sat on his bed, playing music through his headphones for a while. There were so many things that didn’t make sense, and there was nobody he could speak to. Daniel was the one person he thought he really knew, and now—perhaps he didn’t know him at all.

Terry and Gino were already playing chess in the sitting-room when he got back, and he didn’t want to disturb them. He could go back to the library, but wasn’t sure if the same strict curfew rules applies at the smaller, more relaxed Base Camp 2.

“Terry,” he called, without getting up, “Would it be OK if I went back to the library and watched a movie?”

“You’ve got the movies up and running? Wow! I’ll be there tomorrow evening!” Gino broke in before Terry could answer.

“Yes, from tomorrow, you can watch movies or listen to music in your down-time. Come and see one of us when you get free time, and we’ll show you around. Glenn, can you play chess?”

“No.”

“Do you want to learn? We’re just going to start a new game. You can watch until you get the idea.”

So, that’s a ‘no’ to the movies. The curfew must be the same as Base Camp 1, except for the medics.

Glenn went through and joined them, but he found it hard to get his head around the different pieces. Probably because he wasn’t really interested.

“There might be something online you could find, if you fancy learning,” Gino told him. “You can get most things online these days. Not just you, but some of the other guys might be interested. Until we get permission for a gym.”

“There’s going to be a gym soon. Raphael says it’s essential because of the low gravity.”

“I thought that was compensated for?” Glenn said.

“It is, but Raphael is like that. Always wants to keep the men happy.”

“Then he should have some women sent up here!” Gino quipped. “By the time I go back home after I’ve made my fortune, they’ll all be flocking around me, and I won’t remember what to do.”

Back at work the next morning, Glenn found that at least he could keep his thoughts under control all the time he was busy. It was just in the times when he had nothing else to think about, that the confused imaginations came crawling out, like young puppies escaping from their box, and chewing at the edges of his mind.

He needed to speak to Daniel, but it wasn’t something he could just blurt out and say, ‘By the way, Daniel, I was snooping around online, and I know all about your life.’

“Is the photocopier working yet?” he asked Terry.

“Yes, the techies set up all the hardware before we got started. Everything should be working. I haven’t used it, myself, though. You could test it out when you get a spare minute. I’m just going on my break. See you in twenty minutes.”

“Sure, I’ll do that when the next batch of downloads are finished.”

He collected a new memory stick from the reception area and headed for a cubicle as soon as Terry was out of sight. There, he downloaded the information he had found the previous night, and also made some paper copies. He might not be close to a computer when he got a chance to confront Daniel. Then he tried to concentrate on his work.

“Are you going to lunch now?” Terry asked when he returned to the reception area.

“Yes. I need to go back to the dorm and get a clean shirt. I just spilt some coffee on this one,” he lied.

“No problem. Take your time. Pity the buggies aren’t running yet. That’s the next project!”

Glenn opened the door of the dorm quietly, hoping there would be nobody in there, but if there was, he had his excuse ready. He went to his locker and took out a clean shirt, threw the old one on his bed. The memory stick he just dropped in a box of bits and pieces on the top shelf of his locker, beside a couple of spare toothbrushes, toothpaste, hairbrush, nail-clippers, and the soap that he didn’t need because it was supplied. The sheets of A4 were going to prove more difficult, but the lining of his leather jacket, which he was unlikely to wear until he was back home, proved a good temporary hiding place.

Nobody knew what he had, so they wouldn’t be looking for it, and once he had spoken to Daniel and showed it to him, he would destroy it.

He set off along the corridor towards the canteen. He would still have time to grab something to eat before he went back to work.

Did he hear footsteps behind him? He stopped and looked round, but nobody was there. He continued along his way, then he heard the footsteps again. He turned just in time to see somebody disappear into a niche in the wall, a passing place for the future buggies, he assumed. He started to walk back in the direction of where he had seen the man. Suddenly, his stalker emerged from his hiding place.

He was a big man, dressed like a soldier, but Glenn had faced up to men just as big, in some of the seedier bars he had frequented in his youth. The man ran a few steps towards him, before launching himself into the air from at least ten feet away, bringing Glenn to the ground in a sort of flying tackle. He managed to pull himself free, but the man was on him again, this time with his arm round Glenn’s throat in a strangle-hold. Glenn could hear the sound of running feet and voices shouting.

“Donald! Donald! It’s all right! Leave him!”

Then his head was smashed against the wall, once, twice, and balls of brilliant white light exploded in his brain as he lost consciousness.

It’s true—you do see stars, was his last thought.

Chapter 17

Glenn wasn’t quite asleep, but then he certainly wasn’t awake. Perhaps he was dreaming. He could hear strange voices that seemed to be coming from some kind of echo chamber. Somehow, he couldn’t come to the surface. He felt as though he was trying to swim through a sea of jelly, and as soon as he nearly reached the surface, the source of the voices, he would float back down to the bottom again.

“He’s taken a nasty bang on the head,” a voice was saying.

“This should never have happened. What the hell has fucking Theakston been up to that we don’t know about?”

“Well, whatever it is, he’s not going to tell us.”

One of the voices was American, the other one English, cultured.

“This facility has been running for all these years and there’s been no problems, then he comes in and shit starts hitting the fan, big time.”

“Tell me about it! My grandfather worked on this stuff back in the days of MK Ultra. Theakston’s a bloody idiot. He’s not really in charge anyway—this was a CIA project, not the military. They should get rid of him.” The American again. “But they need a military man as a poster boy, and he ticks all the boxes.”

The voices gradually became clearer.

“Glenn, can you hear me? Stay with us, Glenn!”

He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was something shiny, dangling in front of his face. He shook his head, as though to clear it, and it hurt like hell.

“Just lie still. You’re going to be OK.”

His eyes started to focus properly, and he realised the something shiny was a gold pendant hanging round the neck of the man who leaned over him with a concerned look on his face.

“Where am I? What happened?”

“You’re in the Medical Facility at Base Camp 2. My name’s Zophiel, and this is Doctor Gottlieb. Can you remember what happened to you?”

Glenn tried to sit up, but decided it felt better lying down. He was in a small hospital ward with three other beds, all empty. He wasn’t actually in the bed, rather he was lying on top of it, fully clothed, except for his boots. And the smell of pine was back, faint but it definitely was there. He tried to remember.

“I was on my way to the canteen, I think. I’m not sure what happened.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll come back to you.”

That was Doctor Gottlieb, the owner of the American voice. Glenn tried again to sit up, this time with more success. The man called Zophiel took his arm and helped him, while Doctor Gottlieb poured him a glass of water.

“Is this where Daniel works?” he asked.

“Yes, he’ll be on one of the other wards at the moment, but we’ll let him know you’re awake.”

At that moment, a black clad security man appeared in the doorway. Seeing Glenn, he came in and stood beside the bed.

“You all right mate?” he asked. “Nothing too painful?”

“No, I think I’ll survive.” Glenn forced a lop-sided grin and his jaw hurt. He put up his hand and felt a small line of sutures had been applied to the side of his head.

“Glad to see you back with us,” the security man said, then added, “Catch you later,” and left the ward.

“How long was I out?” Glenn asked.

“Not long.” Doctor Gottlieb smiled at him. “Not long at all.”

I might have known I wouldn’t get a straight answer.

“I’ll come back and see you in a while, and see how you’re feeling, but in the meantime, just stay put. Don’t go wandering off! If you need the bathroom, ring the bell behind you.”

About twenty minutes passed, and Glenn decided to take up the offer. He rang the bell and Daniel appeared shortly afterwards.

“How are you feeling?” Daniel asked.

“Like I’ve been run over by a train.”

“It probably feels worse than it is. There’s nothing actually broken, so you’ve been lucky. Do you remember what happened?”

Daniel sat down on Glenn’s bed.

“It’s coming back. I was on my way to the canteen and somebody—a man—attacked me. He seemed to come from nowhere, and he was built like a brick shit-house.”

“He didn’t say anything? Just attacked you for no reason?”

“Not a word. I thought I heard somebody, so I stopped, and he sort of ducked into the shadows.” Glenn paused, trying to remember exactly how it happened. “Any chance of the bathroom?”

“Sure. I’ll take you now. Get up slowly.”

Glenn sat up, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He didn’t feel too bad, and at least they hadn’t put him in a hospital nightie. He put his feet down on the ground and stood up.

“You OK? Take it easy.”

“I’m OK. Honestly.” He sat back down and fumbled to put on his boots. His fingers didn’t want to work.

“Good. Because if you collapse and die on me, you wouldn’t believe how many forms I’ll have to fill out!”

“I’m not going to die!”

Glenn tried to laugh, and it hurt.

“OK. Bathroom it is.”

Daniel walked alongside of him, then sat down on the chair outside the bathroom while he used the facilities.

On the way back, Glenn remembered something else.

“His name was Donald. I remember somebody shouting, ‘It’s all right, Donald, leave him alone!’ Just before the bastard got me.”

He must have fallen asleep again when he got back from the bathroom.

“How are you feeling now?”

Zophiel was leaning over Glenn’s bed.

“I’m OK. I think.”

“Are you feeling fit to travel?”

“Travel? Where? I suppose so. What’s happening?”

“Michael needs you back at Base Camp 1 for the new intake. He says he needs somebody sensible.”

Glenn pulled a face. “Somebody sensible? I’ll see if I can find him someone!”

“Seriously. He’s feeling the pressure with all the new people coming in. He needs your help. You can come back to the library as soon as he’s finished with you.”

Glenn sat up and slowly put his feet on the ground. He was still fully clothed, and he still ached in places he didn’t know existed.

“Yes. OK. What time do I leave?”

“Roger’s on his way over now. He’ll be about two hours. You sure you’re OK?”

“Yes. Honestly. I feel a bit stiff, that’s all.”

Zophiel nodded. “Roger will need a break when he gets here, so I’ll let you know when he’s ready.”

He got up finally and reached for his bottle of water.

“Want a cup of coffee? It’ll do you more good than that water will,” Zophiel offered.

“I’m having a quick swig, then I’ll get a coffee in the canteen while I wait for Roger.”

Glenn smiled to himself. He must be feeling better, if he could lie without even thinking.

The canteen was empty, except for Gino, who was taking the opportunity to wipe down the counter while it was quiet.

“Jesus! What happened to you?”

Glenn fetched himself a coffee from the machine and sat down at one of the tables, but he only drank a mouthful.

“I was attacked by someone built like Iron Man, because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Who did it?”

“I don’t know. I heard somebody calling, ‘Donald!’.”

“Weird!” Gino put his cloth down. “Scrambled eggs?”

“Please.”

“There seems to be a lot of problems in the Medical Facility at the moment.”

“Seems to be. I’m only over here to set up the library, so I wouldn’t know, but my mate Daniel works there, and he’s run off his feet night and day.”

As if on cue, Daniel came through the door.

“I hear you’re going back to Base Camp 1!”

He didn’t sit down.

“Yes, but only for a couple of days. Michael wants me for the new intake. I hope someone’s told Terry.”

“They will. They don’t like to encourage speculation in this place. They’d rather tell you something you can believe than have you try to work it out.”

“Are you having breakfast, Daniel? It’s scrambled eggs again, but there’s a different flavour ketchup today.” Gino was attentive as ever.

“No, not yet. I heard Glenn was leaving, and I just came by to say goodbye.”

“Thanks. It won’t be for too long though. I want to get back to the library.”

“I can’t wait for it to be up and running. Terry’s doing a fantastic job—you too, of course.”

“I can’t believe how Terry’s changed. He’s like a different person.”

“Let’s hope it lasts. It didn’t work for Misery Guts.”

“You mean . . .?”

Gino appeared with a plate of scrambled egg and a smaller one of toast.

“Nothing for you, then, Daniel?”

“Not yet, Gino, thanks. I only dropped by to see my mate. I’ll be down later.”

“OK. Don’t forget to drink your coffee.”

***

“Good to see you back, Glenn.” Michael said, holding out his hand. “I know you wanted to work on the Base Camp 2 library project, and I know Terry wants you back as soon as possible, but I really do need you here to help me with the new intake. You are the most reliable of my people, so I had to pull rank to get you.”

The big open-plan office hadn’t changed. It still smelled of air-freshener, though the background music was turned down low, and it was emptier now, only a couple of the desks showing any signs of use.

“No problem, Michael. Just show me what needs doing.”

Michael disappeared into his office and returned within moments with a stack of paperwork.

“These are the forms which the new men have completed. The Sector they’re assigned to is here,” he pointed to the Sector letter, circled in red at the top of each form. “They all need transferring onto the system. If anything they claim about their past employment looks too much like creative fiction, you can give me a shout. Here’s your password.” He smiled at Glenn—that benign smile that wouldn’t fool anybody. “The sooner you get everything done, the sooner you’ll be back to your library.”

“How long am I likely to be here?”

“A couple of days, three at the most. You’ll be in the same dormitory, but Graeme has been permanently moved to Health and Recreation.”

“And Billy?”

“He’s still here. It’ll be you and him until the new people arrive.”

“I can live with that.”

About half an hour later, as he plodded through the pile of forms, somebody shouted from the other end of the office, “Glenn!”

It was Billy, the cringe-making yellow hat still in place despite the central heating.

“I knew you couldn’t stay away for long!”

“Hi, Billy, how you doing?”

“OK! I’m always OK, innit! See you later!”

By the end of the day, Glenn had finished the pile of forms and headed for the canteen. Perhaps he should go to the gym, a facility sadly lacking at Base Camp 2. He knew he should make the most of the opportunity, but it was not the same without Danny Boy. Instead he decided to visit the library.

But even the library felt unwelcoming, although he had only been away for a short time. The new man was not as helpful as Terry, who, even during his more flaky times, managed to make each visitor feel valued and important. Maybe the new man was aware that his imminent replacement was already on his way from Earth.

He found himself a small room in the study area and took out his e-reader. The pine air-freshener pervaded everywhere—at Base Camp 2 it was hardly noticeable—and the heating was too high for the small cubicle. He opened the door a fraction and sat down again, finally managing to get back into a story he had started earlier.

Somebody went into the next room and closed the door. Shortly after, he heard somebody outside open the door, followed by Graeme’s voice. He looked at his watch. The canteen must be closed.

“Michael, I thought I’d find you here. We need to talk.”

Graeme’s voice sounded as though he was still standing at the door.

“Can’t this wait until the morning? This is my time off.”

Glenn didn’t want to eavesdrop, but it was too late to shut the door without Graeme hearing the click.

“No. It can’t wait.”

“Say it quickly, then!”

“Billy Tetley. I know what you two are up to.”

“What Billy Tetley and I are up to? Well, you know more than I do. Do tell me more.”

“You’ve been paying him to inform on us! I’ve seen the envelopes you give him every month. I know what you’re up to!”

What an idiot! He’ll never get away with this!

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Michael seemed as calm as ever. “Graeme, go to bed and get some sleep. You’re over-working.”

“You haven’t heard the last from me. And you are going to pay me if you want me to keep quiet. $50,000 should do it. Into my bank account, no grubby envelopes, or when I get back home, I tell the world.”

“There is nothing to ‘tell the world’ about.”

“You won’t get away with this.”

“There is nothing to ‘get away with’, Graeme. And I shall be speaking to your Angel tomorrow morning. You obviously need stabilising again.”

Graeme huffed and stuttered, and Glenn heard his footsteps shuffling on the carpeted floor.

“We’ll see about that!”

When Glenn arrived at work the next morning the first person he saw was Michael, standing by the open door of his office, obviously waiting for him.

“Glenn! Come in here. I need a word with you. Don’t switch your computer on yet.”

“Problem?”

There had to be! Zophiel from Base Camp 2 was there, and Gabriel from Recreation, and Raphael, head of the Base Camp 1 Medical Facility. All standing around like celestial vultures waiting for something to die.

“What’s happened?”

He felt his stomach tighten up. Could this be about Shylock?

Michael sat down at his desk. “We’ve got a problem, Glenn. Sidney Goldblatt has invited a group of journalists to see his new enterprise, and they’re arriving at almost the same time as the new intake.”

“On the same shuttle?”

At least it’s not Shylock!

“No, not literally the same time. They’ll be on the six-seater, but they’re leaving within hours of each other. Journalists leave first, so they won’t know there’s another shuttle arriving. It won’t make a lot of difference, half a day perhaps. I’ll get exact ETA later.”

“They can’t come over to Base Camp 2. We’ve got American casualties at the Medical Facility and the psychosis isn’t under control yet,” Zophiel interrupted.

Michael leaned back in his chair. “And I suppose the American public don’t even know about General Theakston’s Experimental Soldiers?”

“To hell with what the American public know!” Zophiel said. “The American Government doesn’t even know. It’s strictly CIA. A Black Op. There’s no way we can have the press swarming all over the place. Some of Doctor Gottlieb’s work is very—let’s say—futuristic. He’d never get away with that sort of brain surgery back home.”

“Does Sidney know about what’s going on?”

“Some of it, I suppose. He hasn’t visited for a while though. And the Americans are nothing to do with us, anyway. We co-operate behind the scenes, but we don’t share secrets. Anton Gottlieb’s one of us, I now know, so he’s OK. But Theakston! We have to treat his casualties, but he won’t tell us how the injury was sustained.”

“Then let them just see Base Camp 1.”

“That won’t work. They’re going to want to see all the long-term unemployed we’ve got money off the government for rehabilitating.”

“So they’re going to have to see the Mineral Extraction Facility?”

“Yes. And if they see that, they’re going to want to see the Medical Facility. They’ll want to know what happens if one of the workers has an accident, won’t they?”

Gabriel spoke for the first time. “We’ve got to be really careful about who the Press get to speak to. Sidney thinks he can bring them up here, show them around, and they’ll be bursting with enthusiasm about what he’s achieved, and go back saying how wonderful we all are. But believe me, they won’t. I know the Press. There’s always at least one snide little bastard who’ll have done his homework and have a list of awkward questions as long as your arm. And they’ll want to speak to anybody with a grievance, not those who think they’ve found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

“That’s why I brought Glenn in,” Michael said. “There’s going to be five of them coming, plus Sidney, and we need a couple of people we can trust to help him show them around. They’re only going to be here for two days, but we’ve got to know where they are every second of those two days. Sidney can’t keep tags on five people, and a determined journalist wouldn’t have much trouble giving him the slip.”

“How about Roger, the driver? He’s familiar with the Mining Facility, which nobody else from Base Camp 1 is.” Gabriel suggested.

“It’s an idea. Roger’s good. And tactful. He knows when to keep his mouth shut.”

“OK then. That’s a start. How’s the other problem. Graeme Dane?” Zophiel asked.

Gabriel shook his head slowly, lips held tightly together. “It’s not working out. I’ve done my best to advise him, but he won’t listen to me. The men are complaining that he’s rude, and the two lads in the canteen reckon he treats them like skivvies. They’ve worked there longer than him, and they’d both had catering experience before we got them, but he still speaks to them like kids.”

“I thought he’d be OK with Recreation. He can build his own little empire there. What more can he want?”

“He’s been stabilised twice already, hasn’t he? He was all right for a while, but it doesn’t seem to last,” Raphael said. He looked at Zophiel, but Zophiel said nothing.

Michael got up and refilled the coffee cups. “Sorry, Glenn, I forgot about you. Coffee?”

“No thanks, I’ve had two this morning already.”

Zophiel turned to Gabriel. “You’d better give him to me for a few days. We can’t have him running over at the mouth when we’ve got visitors.”

“Keep the bastard as long as you like! I don’t want him. He’s a pain in the butt wherever he is! But he’s family—although he’s not one of us—so I’m stuck with him.”

Michael put the coffee cups down on the desk and looked over at Glenn.

“So, can you work out a little tour for the gentlemen of the Press? Mr Goldblatt will have one of them, probably the most influential one, then you and Roger can have two each. Say a couple of hours in the afternoon, and a couple of hours in the evening? Then the second day, you swap with Roger, morning and afternoon this time, and we’ll ship them off back home in the evening. How does that sound? Give it some thought. Gym, library, the Observatory, the new Hydroponic Facility. I’ll give you the exact times as soon as Mr Goldblatt tells me more, and you can let me know what you can come up with. How’s that sound?”

“Great. I can work something out for that.”

“And I’m sorry to keep you from your library, Glenn, but we really do have a problem here.”

Why had he fought against this place for so long? OK, so Glenn wasn’t going to get back to the library project for a few days. But this was really cool, showing the Press around. He was beginning to feel as though, at long last, he had been accepted by those in charge. He had two shows to put on, afternoon and evening the first day, then morning and afternoon the second day, but with different sets of people.

“How about a film show on the first evening,” he suggested to Michael later. “They’ll probably want to wind down after all the travelling.”

“Mr Goldblatt is going to bring a few bottles of wine, but that’s strictly for his guests, in his private quarters in Sector B, and it’s essential nobody else except the Angels knows about it, or we could have a riot on our hands. So a film first, or perhaps line up a couple and let them choose.”

“So now I’m going to check out the library to see if there’s any information about the Observatory, what features you can see from there and so on.”

“If you want to know about the Observatory, Raphael’s your man. He helped set it up.”

“Really? That would be great.”

“I’ll get him to meet you there this evening, if you like.”

Two hours later, Michael called back. Raphael would meet him at seven. He returned to his dormitory and lay on his bed. He had finally given in and unpacked his bag. Like it or not, he was here to stay for a while, at least. He still felt restless, so he decided to get to the Observatory a bit early to check out the two huge telescopes. There wouldn’t be any stars to see, of course, as it was the light period, but he needed to know the names of any craters or so-called seas that might be visible.

He took the lift to the top of the Observatory and found it was empty. He wasn’t surprised. It didn’t seem to be used very much. He checked his watch. Plenty of time. He fumbled with the unfamiliar controls of the nearest telescope, until his eyes settled on something in the middle distance which caught his eye. Something brilliant—almost luminous—yellow, was lying there on the featureless grey landscape. And near to it, something larger, darker coloured and very still.

“Oh my god!” he said aloud.

“That good, is it?”

Raphael was standing behind him. Glenn hadn’t heard him arrive.

“Take a look at this! There’s somebody out there. I think it’s Billy. I recognise that stupid yellow scarf he always wears.”

Raphael made a call for assistance on his pager. “Come on,” he said, “we’ll go down and meet them.”

Glenn followed him to the lift, and they made their way down to ground level and waited by the inner airlock.

“Can’t we do anything? It’s not that far. We could suit up and walk out there.”

“No. We couldn’t do anything on our own if we did, and he won’t have survived without a suit. They’ll have equipment to bring him back.”

Shortly, a medical team and two security men suited up and went out with a trolley to recover Billy’s body and bring him back through the airlock.

He was now covered with heat wrap and his face hidden by an oxygen mask. At least, they’d gone through the motions. His yellow scarf was neatly folded on his chest, but there was no sign of his hat.

“What the hell happened?”

Michael was no longer his usual calm self. He tried to take charge, but between them, the medics and the security men would not let him get near. He turned to the head of Security, who had now arrived.

“What the hell was he doing out there without a suit?”

“One of yours, is he?”

“Yes. Billy Tetley. A good lad. He’s worked for us a few times. A bit talkative, not too bright, but a good lad.”

“Take him through to Health and Safety!” Raphael ordered. “I’ll try to bring him back, but I think it’s too late.”

Glenn and Michael followed the trolley as its wheels clattered through the second airlock to the medical area. Then they waited in the corridor while Raphael and the head of Security took Billy into a room marked No Admission.

Shortly after, Raphael emerged shaking his head slowly, followed by the head of Security, who was holding a large envelope.

“I don’t know what this is,” he said. “It was in his pocket.”

“Nothing important. Something I gave him this morning,” Michael said.

Glenn craned his neck to see.

“It’s nothing important, a private arrangement we had.”

“You might think it’s not important, but it could have got this man killed.

Michael shrugged his shoulders.

“I’d hardly think so.”

There was a crisp ripping sound, and the contents of the envelope were revealed—seven, maybe eight, photocopied sheets of paper.

“Crossword puzzles?”

“Yes. Billy loved his crosswords, and it kept him happy, so I used to download them from the newspapers back on Earth. But we kept quiet about it, because nobody else knew we could still access the news from back home.”

Chapter 18

Glenn sat in the canteen for longer than usual after his dinner. This was awful, what had happened to Billy. It was the end of an era: first Daniel left, then Graeme—not that that was any loss—and now harmless little Billy, the life and soul of the dorm. Until the new people arrived, strangers, he would be on his own.

Finally he made his way back to the dorm, poured himself some coffee, took one mouthful then tipped it down the sink. He put on his headphones, selected the loudest music he could find and lay down on his bed. But he couldn’t get Billy out of his mind.

Next morning, Zophiel was in the canteen for breakfast, and he actually joined Glenn at his table, instead of going to the management area.

“You’re early. Where’s Roger?” Glenn asked.

“I didn’t go back to Base Camp 2 yesterday. It wasn’t worth the travelling time. Michael found me a room for the night in Sector A. Roger should be here shortly. I heard about your dormitory mate, by the way. Do they know what happened yet?”

“Not that I know. But I haven’t seen anybody since dinner time last night.”

“I’m sorry. Was he a close mate?”

“Not really, I wouldn’t say we were close. I found him a bit of a pain at times, to tell the truth. He didn’t know when to stop talking. And he and Graeme were always arguing. It was like watching something on daytime TV. But he was really helpful when we first got here. You know, telling us where things were, and how the coffee machines work, the token system. Really helpful.”

“He must have upset somebody.”

Glenn put his fork down on his plate, then realised his mouth was open. “You mean it wasn’t an accident?”

Zophiel shook his head. “Difficult to imagine how anybody can accidentally walk through two sets of airlocks.”

“Then? Suicide?”

“He would never have got that far without a protective suit. Somebody took him—or his body—out there”

Glenn took a deep breath. “I can’t believe it. Billy wouldn’t hurt a fly. Why would anyone want to do that? And how would they get him outside with nobody seeing?”

It was as though his own personal black cloud had stationed itself above his head.

By nine thirty, they were all met up in Michael’s office. This time Roger and the security guy had joined them.

Michael took the floor.

“You all know Samael, our Head of Security.”

Samael stood up and took the floor.

“I suppose you’ve all heard about Billy Tetley,” Samael began.

Glenn looked around at the subdued faces.

“Raphael tells me there was definitely another person involved. Billy could not have walked that far outside without a pressure suit, especially after the injuries to his head. Now this is very worrying in a small community like ours. And of course with the visit from the Press coming up, we really don’t want them to get wind of it. But I assure you all, this will be investigated and dealt with as soon as they have gone.”

“Can’t we put this visit off?” Raphael suggested.

“Unfortunately they are already on their way. And we all know the gentlemen of the press, how their minds work. If we cancelled now, those minds would be working overtime. Michael and I have decided that the best thing to do is firstly, to make sure that Billy Tetley’s unfortunate death does not become general knowledge until they’ve left, and secondly, to keep anybody who’s likely to cause trouble—even unintentionally—out of the way.

“Anybody who likes to talk a bit too much if he has an audience. Anybody who thinks he has inside knowledge that he’d like to share. Or anybody who’d get a kick out of seeing his name in print.”

He looked over at Raphael, who nodded.

Keep them out of the way? How are they going to do that?

“I’ll need a list of names by this afternoon, hopefully a short one, and we’ll make sure those men are employed somewhere else for the duration of the visit.”

“I can do that now,” Gabriel said, reaching for a sheet of scrap paper from the pile on Michael’s desk.

“Any other Angels?” Michael asked.

They all took paper and started writing.

“I’ll have a list of reliable people, as well please, so I know who our visitors can meet,” Michael said. “In the meantime,” he held up an A4 size poster. “I have printed off a few of these, to be put up in public places throughout the Base Camp. As you will see, they show details of our visitors, so people will know who they are when they see them. And can assist them—and of course, report that they have done so—if they get lost. Hopefully, the visitors won’t ever be on their own, though.”

He handed the poster to Raphael, who read it and passed it to Glenn. Head-and-shoulders shots of five men, with the name of the publication they represented. “They shouldn’t be anywhere unaccompanied, but if one of them should happen to get lost, Samael’s the man who needs to know about it, and his personal pager code is given at the bottom. Don’t call the usual Security number unless you can’t reach him.”

“Any of our people amongst the visitors?” Gabriel asked.

“I would think so, but I don’t know. Sidney’s going to be very picky about who comes here. Definitely nobody likely to understand the technology and go away and copy it. Let’s hope they all smile politely, say ‘Very nice!’ and move on to what’s next. Glenn’s going to bedazzle then with the Observatory, aren’t you, Glenn?”

“I’ve got some notes for you here,” Raphael said, “but I’ll meet you up there again later, if you like, and we can go over it together.”

“Thanks, Raphael. I’d like to do that.”

Michael started looking at the lists of names as they came in.

“Terry’s a good man, but he’s working on the new Base Camp 2 library with Glenn at the moment,” Gabriel began. “But it’s not a problem.” He turned to Zophiel. “If it’s OK with you, we’ll close Base Camp 2 library for the two days and have him back over here. He can show them round the library, Glenn can do the observatory and the gym. We want them to see the sleeping quarters, so there are free dormitories in Sector B they can see. I’ll get the Gremlins to check an empty one over, and make sure it’s clean and tidy.”

“Great. I’ll take one of your posters with me and copy a few for the Mineral Extraction guys. And I suppose we’d better give General Theakston one—he’s not far away from the mining works, and he’s going to start yelling anyway, so he may as well know what he’s yelling about.”

“So the Press arrive tomorrow, and new intake the day after that?” Gabriel asked, “Have I got that right?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

The meeting broke up halfway through the morning, when Zophiel arranged to go back to Base Camp 2 with Roger. Glenn wasn’t sure if he was going to love or hate this Press visit.

“This is ridiculous,” Zophiel told Glenn as he suited up. “I shouldn’t have to keep making this journey across the surface. It’s about time they got a better communication system than this. We need a satellite to get reliable connection, and Sidney won’t agree to it.”

“Why ever not?”

“Security. It could be detected, and signals intercepted from Earth. The Americans are against it, too.”

“It’s nothing to do with them. They’re not even supposed to be here!”

“Precisely. We’re here legitimately. The UK government even sends us workers, but it’s the CIA. Essential for the defence of the country, but nobody must know about it. I don’t suppose the President has even been told.”

“By the way,” Glenn asked, “have you heard anything more about who attacked me?”

“No. It’s got to be something to do with what General Theakston is doing though. There’s no other explanation. There was nobody unaccountable from the mining facility at the time. And, anyway, the only way they can get to Base Camp 2 is by a rover, for medical treatment. Let’s face it, there is only the Medical Facility there. He’s not going to go to the trouble of sneaking into Base Camp 2 just to use the canteen, is he?”

“I doubt it! I heard the Yanks live on a diet of steak, and by the way he attacked me, it’s unlikely he was needing a doctor, either.”

“Ready, Zophiel?”

Roger had arrived, dressed in his pressure suit and ready to leave, his helmet under his arm like a NASA publicity photo, he stood beside the airlock, looking anxious to get going. “The other rover will be bringing Terry. ETA about two hours. Robbie will page you when he gets here,” he told Glenn.

“You two can get your heads together about tomorrow,” Zophiel said as Roger opened the airlock. “Speak to you later, Glenn. I’ll let you know if there are any developments.”

Terry called and they arranged to meet in the library.

“Glenn! How are you doing, mate? I haven’t seen you since your accident.”

“Believe me it was no accident. Half a ton of muscle came out of nowhere and flattened me!”

“Do they know who did it yet?”

“No.”

“But you’re all right now?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Like it never happened.”

“Good. To business, then. So, we’re being invaded by the gutter press! Sounds fun.”

“Have you seen the press list?” Glenn pulled it out of his pocket. “We’re going to be allocated two of them first day, and the others the next day. I’m not quite sure how it’s going to work.”

“Let’s have a look.” Terry skimmed through the names on the list. “Come on. We’ll check these out on the system. ‘Know thy enemy’ and all that tosh. Do you know which ones we’ve got first?”

“I don’t think anybody knows yet. Mr Goldblatt will be looking after one of them, the one he wants to impress, I expect. We get two tomorrow, and Roger gets the other two, and the next day, we swap over. We do the same tours or whatever you want to call them, on both days, but for different people, so they’ve all seen everything by the time they go.”

“You mean they’ve all seen everything Mr Goldblatt wants them to see!”

A sly little smirk crossed Terry’s face but was gone in a microsecond. He led the way to a private study room.

“Let’s see who we’ve got. Know your enemy is what I say.”

They went inside and Terry switched on the computer. Glenn sat beside him and watched, fascinated.

“Who’s the first one on the list?”

“Ellison Hunt, Wall Street Journal.”

“Got him. Worked there thirteen years. Married, two children. Oh, and he’s got a dog called Marvin. I’ll print all this stuff out in a minute. Let’s see what else we can find out about him.”

After a couple of hours online, they had information about all five visitors. Not one of them seemed interesting.

“If you can access all this information, how come it’s so difficult make a simple video call home?”

“It’s not so much that we can’t technically do it, as the security implications. People giving information to their families quite innocently, but that can be passed on to somebody else, or competitors hacking into our connections. It’s easier to say it can’t be done.”

“I suppose so.”

After Terry had checked everybody out, he printed the information, making two copies.

“Should you make another copy for Samael?”

“What? Let him know that I know how to do this?” He let out a deep breath. “Too risky! So, basically we’ve got Wall Street Journal man, and a man from the New National Enquirer, we’ve got two British journalists, one left-wing, one right-wing, and an Australian who mainly writes historical stuff and occasionally does a bit of freelancing. I don’t know how we’re going to share them out, though.”

“You know what I’d like to do right now if we were back home? I’d like to head for the nearest bar and stay there all night!”

“You’d regret it in the morning!” Terry had become sensible!

“Let’s put these notices up and then head for the canteen and get some dinner. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

The final notice they put up was the one in the canteen. Graeme immediately demanded to know who gave them permission to put up notices in his canteen.

“Michael,” Terry said. “We’re putting them up everywhere. People need to know there are strangers on base who shouldn’t be wandering around on their own.”

Graeme finally came out from the kitchen and read the notice properly.

“Great,” he said. “Journalists, eh? Bring them in here tomorrow night. I’ve got a story for them that’ll make their toes curl!”

Chapter 19

The last meeting before the visitors arrived. Terry and Glenn met up in the canteen for breakfast. They could hear Graeme shouting at one of the catering lads to hurry up, but he didn’t appear at the counter.

“We need to tell Michael what Graeme said last night,” Glenn said. “You tell him, you’re senior to me.”

“If you like. Michael’s OK though. He’ll want to be told something like this. He’s not going to bite your head off for speaking out of turn.”

“I don’t want to speak out of turn, with all the Angels there. It would sound better coming from you.”

Roger and the Angels were there already, plus Robbie, although it was still early, so Terry jumped straight in.

“Michael, we think you ought to know what Graeme was saying last night.”

“Graeme? What’s he been up to now? That bastard should have been drowned at birth!”

“Glenn and I were putting up the notice in the canteen, and he said he wanted to meet the journalists when they came, as he had a story to tell them.”

“Graeme always has an opinion on everything, whether he knows anything about it or not.”

“It’s not what he said, it’s the way he said it. Quite aggressive he was.”

“I’ll have a quiet word,” Samael said. “He’s on my Nuisance List anyway.”

Zophiel shook his head then stood up. “I know your ‘quiet words’! Don’t worry—it’s in hand. Leave it with me.”

Samael nodded. “OK.”

“Sorted, then.” Michael gave one of his benevolent uncle smiles. “Thank you, Terry. Now due to Brother Goldblatt’s immaculate planning, our guests are arriving at Base Camp 1 at 12 noon, and the new intake are due at 8.30 am tomorrow. So Gabriel, Raphael and I are looking after the new intake, and Zophiel and Samael are overseeing the visitors. And no Angel names in front of the Press. They’ll probably write a lot of rubbish anyway, we don’t need to give them more fuel for their fires. I’m Mick, Zophiel is Zak, Gabriel is Gabe and Samael is Sammy. Raphael, well I’ll think of something…”

“Thanks, Mick! That’s one I owe you!”

A ripple of laughter lightened the atmosphere as Michael produced another list.

“Now when they arrive, there will be a group debrief, a word about Health and Safety, where they can and can’t go and all that, followed by a short publicity film, where Sidney tells them how the Goldblatt Institute came about, then Glenn and Terry will take Alan Penfield from the Guardian, and the freelancer Leyton Gray, on a tour of the Base Camp 1 facilities, stopping to speak to a few strategically placed happy campers, while Roger will drive Mickey Leary of the New National Enquirer, and Richard Sullivan of the Daily Mail over to see the Mineral Extraction Facility, showing them a few interesting craters on the way.

“In the evening, Sidney and the man from the Wall Street Journal will be joining the group, and Zophiel and Samael will entertain our guests in Sector B. This is the first and last time there will be alcohol in Base Camp 1, gentlemen, so make the most of it!”

“What about the dancing girls?”

Glenn had never heard Raphael make a joke before.

“Sidney Goldblatt’s wallet has never opened very wide, or very often, I’m afraid. That’s why he is such a rich man today. Last time he opened it he had one hell of a job getting the moths back inside.” Michael was trying to keep a straight face. “As I was saying. . .” He cleared his throat. “Tomorrow, the visitors get to see the facilities they didn’t see today. And make sure all your people keep well hydrated, guys. Plenty of coffee. And, I’m afraid, no dancing girls.”

Michael stood up and shuffled the papers on his desk.

“Right, then, I shan’t keep you any longer. See you all in the Departure Lounge just before twelve. We’ll go straight to Sector B, for a very quick debrief, then you guys,” he gestured to Roger, Glenn and Terry, the foot-soldiers, who were still standing together nearest to the door, “will be assigned your visitors, and we will all have lunch in the canteen. Robbie will be doing the normal rover trips as needed. If nobody’s got any questions, I’ll give you your badges, and that’s it.”

Glenn’s badge was plastic, with a yellow edging. ‘GLENN’, it proclaimed in capital letters, then underneath, ‘Facilitator’. Officially he still worked for Michael. Terry’s was similar, with a lilac border. The Angels were getting them, too.

He turned to Terry as they left the office.

“I feel I should have brought a suit with me!”

“Right,” Terry said, as everybody dispersed, “we need to have a word with John at the gym.”

John also wore a new Facilitator badge like Terry’s.

“I can’t tell you exactly what time we’ll be here, because we don’t know how long lunch will take, but we’ll be bringing two guys with us, so if you could give us all a conducted tour of what the gym has to offer, let them have a go on a few things, that would be great.”

“So we’ve got half an hour before they arrive,” Terry said, looking at his watch. “What do you want to do?”

“Let’s go and get a drink in the canteen. I’ve got enough tokens to get us a cola each.”

“Yeah? OK, we can wind Graeme up while we’re there!”

There weren’t many people in the canteen, but the lads were once again in a flap.

“Take your time, Jacko,” Terry said. “What’s the problem?”

“We’ve had a big delivery to put away, and we need to get lunch ready for the visitors and Mr Goldblatt.”

“Tell Graeme to get off his butt and not leave it all to you two.”

“He hasn’t come in yet. Roger opened up for us.”

“Roger did? How come?”

“He wanted a sandwich, but we couldn’t get in without Graeme,” the other boy piped up. “So he said for us to go away for five minutes, and he’d have the door open.”

“We told him not to damage anything, because Graeme would blame us,” Jacko added. “But it was OK, when we came back he’d opened the door and we just went through and unbolted the delivery door.”

“Have you paged Graeme?”

“We don’t have a pager.”

“Right. I’ll page Michael. He’ll get the bugger out of bed.”

Terry took out his pager and fired off a message. “He shouldn’t take advantage of you two—you all three work together, it’s not meant to be two working and one watching!”

They gulped down their cola rather quicker than they intended and made their way to the Departure Lounge. Michael and Samael were already waiting, and Zophiel arrived as soon as they sat down. His new badge read, ‘ZAK’ and underneath, ‘Senior Facilitator’.

“You got my message?” Terry asked. “Bloody Graeme left those two lads in the canteen on their own again, when they’ve got the delivery to put away. Today of all days, when we need to make an impression! It’s not good enough.”

Glenn watched for Michael’s reaction.

“It’s all in hand.”

Michael glanced in Zophiel’s direction, though not directly at him. Zophiel nodded once, casually, so you wouldn’t notice it if you didn’t already know how sneaky these people could be.

“I’ve sent the boys some help. One of my orderlies. He can’t cook, but he can shift boxes.”

So Zophiel knew already.

Michael’s pager pinged and he checked it immediately.

“Roger’s five minutes away.”

The rover pulled up outside, and Roger and Sidney Goldblatt came in through the two airlocks and removed their helmets.

“There’s been a slight alteration,” Goldblatt said. “The Wall Street Journal correspondent was taken ill on the day we departed, so they apparently replaced him at the last minute.”

Samael got up from his seat immediately.

“Has this been verified?”

“Yes. I contacted the newspaper myself.”

“We can’t be too careful.”

“He’s all right, the new guy. His name is Harry Kinsella. His main interest is in successful entrepreneurs who have taken big risks and succeeded against the odds, so his social media says.”

“So why wasn’t he their first choice, do you think?” Samael’s voice had dropped down to scarcely above a whisper.

Goldblatt looked puzzled. “Not a lot we can do. He’s here now and he’ll see exactly what we want him to see.”

“We’ll talk about it later. Just one more thing,” Samael said. “When we go into Mr Goldblatt’s talk, I want you guys to mix in with the visitors. I don’t want to see them sitting together in a group and forming alliances. With a bit of luck, as journalists, they will each regard all the others as competition, and I want to keep it that way.”

He turned to Roger. “Fetch them in then, Roger.”

Roger replaced his helmet and went back outside, walking carefully over the uneven lunar surface towards his vehicle. Moments later, he brought the five visitors through the airlocks into the Departure Lounge.

“They’ll probably need some help with their suits,” Michael said.

While Glenn, Terry and Roger helped the newcomers with their pressure suits and showed them where to hang them in readiness for the return journey, Samael stood there like a lion amongst a herd of zebra, deciding which one to pick for dinner. Glenn cast a quick eye over his badge. ‘SAMMY’, it proclaimed to the world, ‘Security’. Nothing warm and fuzzy like ‘facilitator’, which the rest of them had become.

“Now,” he said, “which one of you is Harry Kinsella?”

“That’s me!” Young, lean, and hungry looking.

“You replaced Ellerson Green, was it?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Samael looked down at the paper he was holding. “Or was it Ellerson Hunt?”

“I—maybe it was. I didn’t know the guy, myself. They needed somebody who could leave at short notice, and I fitted the bill.”

“No problem. I’ll need an ID photograph for our records, that’s all. They won’t let you into the Extraction Facility without correct ID, and it would be a shame for you to miss it after you’ve come so far.”

“Too right!”

Samael caught Michael’s attention. “I’ll take Harry and get him sorted.”

Although there were only five of them—four now—the visitors’ chattering dominated the Departure Lounge. Each of them must have said, ‘I can’t believe this is really happening!’ at least twice. And ‘Isn’t modern technology wonderful!’ followed close behind in the popularity stakes.

Sidney Goldblatt’s honeyed salesman voice finally silenced them. “There’s been a little hiccup, guys, I’m afraid. Harry was a late addition, and Sammy needs to update the records and get a new photograph, then we’re set to go. I’ll be giving you a very short debrief about how this place works, Health and Safety, and that sort of stuff, then I’ll show you a short—I promise it will be very short—film about what you can expect to see, and by then lunch will be ready.”

Harry and Samael returned after about five minutes.

Glenn listened to Sidney Goldblatt’s pep talk and watched the publicity film, trying to remember whether he had seen it when he had first set foot in Base Camp 1 as a newcomer. It seemed to be a lifetime ago. He had long ago stopped counting the days.

The film eventually finished, and Michael announced lunch, and led them through the corridors to the canteen.

“The canteen is fairly basic, but the food is good quality,” he explained as they stood in the queue. “We grow a lot of it here, now. If there is time, we might be able to fit in a visit to the Hydroponic Facility, if anybody’s interested. Our table is over there.”

Two of the tables in the management area had been pulled together to make seating for twelve, and a ‘Reserved’ notice had been placed on it. As soon as they had all sat down, Jacko came over with a tray with six glasses and six bottles of water. He served the visitors and Mr Goldblatt first, before going back for more.

“Has Graeme turned up yet?” Terry asked, as Jacko placed a bottle of water and a glass in front of him. He spoke quietly and, sitting two seats away, Glenn strained to hear what he said.

“No, not a word.”

“Has anybody been over to his dormitory?”

“We haven’t had time. We’ve got a guy from Health and Safety helping us for now, and he’s great, but we’ll have to wait till lunch is over.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Michael said. “I’ll get somebody to check on him. He’s probably not feeling well, and if it’s something infectious, we’ll need to find out where it came from.”

“Right,” Goldblatt said as they finished lunch. “I’ll take Mickey Leary to see the Observatory, and Roger can take two of you,” he paused as though he was making it up as he went along, but Glenn was not convinced. “Richard and Leyton can go with Roger to see the Extraction Facility, and Harry and Alan can see what Base Camp 1 has to offer with Terry and Glenn.”

He even remembers my name!

“Yay!” Richard and Leyton yelled in unison.

“We get to ride on the rover again!” Leyton did a little dance, waving his arms in the air.

Richard laughed at his antics. “You can’t take him anywhere!”

“Why is it Base Camp 1, when it’s the only Base Camp you’ve got?” asked Mickey.

There’s always one!

“Because it won’t always be the only one and I want people to get used to the idea!” Goldblatt gave a genial laugh. “Come on, Mickey. Come with me. You don’t need a pressure suit for this. It’s all enclosed within the facility.”

Mickey got up and followed him.

“Right,” Michael said, “Change of plan. Roger takes Richard and Leyton, and Terry and Glenn take Harry and Alan. Roger’s people are going to see where the mining operations are carried out, and you’ll need pressure suits.”

“Wow! Fantastic.”

“OK, guys, follow me.”

“I need the bathroom first,” Harry said.

“I’ll show you,” Terry volunteered. “What about you, Alan?”

“OK, might as well.”

“Come on then.”

Michael sighed. “I wish he’d leave it to us.” He shook his head. “Zophiel and I were up most of the night sorting out a rota. But, no, Sidney wants to do it his way. He wants a one-to-one with each of the visitors, and he also wants to conduct the trip to the mines himself. But he forgets, the return journey to the Mineral Extraction Facility takes a whole day, and everyone will want to go there. And now he’s messed up our schedule by taking Mickey, who should have been somewhere else.”

He seemed to have forgotten Glenn was there.

Samael’s pager pinged. He glanced at it and put it back in his pocket.

“General Theakston. The Beast from the West. He wants me to get in touch with him.”

“Better see what he wants.”

Samael got up and wandered off in the direction of the exit. He was back before Terry returned with his charges.

Samael did not look happy when he re-joined the group.

“What did he want?” Michael asked.

“Nothing important.”

“Right,” Terry said. “What do you want us to do first, Mick?”

“Sort it out between yourselves, really. Stick to your original plan as much as you can. You’ve got different people, that’s all. We’ll meet up at eight thirty in the canteen, then move on to Sector B, to chat with them about what they’ve seen, and ask Mr Goldblatt any questions they want to.”

Terry grinned at the visitors. “Right. We’ll see how much we can get to see. We have a library, a gymnasium, an observatory and the hydroponic facility. Tomorrow you’ll be going to visit the mining works.”

“Can we go to the observatory after it gets dark?”

“That will be in a week’s time!”

“Oh! I’d forgotten about that. But I’d definitely like to see that hydroponic place,” Harry said.

“I haven’t seen it either,” Glenn told him. “Right, we’ll go there first and see how much time we have.”

“You’re in charge! Take us to the Hydroponic Facility.”

“OK. Follow me guys,” Terry said. “I’ve told Marlon, the guy in charge, that we’re coming over sometime today.”

His pager trilled loudly. He read the message and glanced over at Glenn. “It’s ‘Sammy’.” He didn’t sound as casual as he should have. Glenn waited for him to say more, but instead he handed him the pager with the screen showing the message: Don’t let Kinsella out of your sight!

“Problem?” Harry asked.

“No. Just about the get-together tonight. Come on then, guys, the Hydroponic Facility.” He deleted the message.

Terry led them through the underground tunnel system, following the red markings along the wall.

“They promised to get buggies for transportation a couple of years ago, but no sign of them so far,” he said.

“Who built these tunnels? Does this lead to the Mining Facility?” Harry asked.

“We don’t know who built them. Apparently they were already built when Mr Goldblatt got here.”

“So it’s nothing to do with the mining program?”

“Not that I know of!”

“Is it true that they’ve found gold on the Moon?”

“Again, if they have, they haven’t told me.”

“But they probably wouldn’t, would they?”

“I think I’d have heard rumours.” Terry seemed to be about to lose his cool. “It’s a close community here on the Moon. Things get around pretty quickly. I’m sure somebody would let something slip.”

Harry grunted.

Terry moved away from Harry, and started walking alongside Alan.

“So you work for the Guardian, Alan?” he asked. “How long have you worked for them?”

“About twelve years, I think.”

“That’s what I always wanted to do, journalism,” Terry said.

“Can’t think why! Long unsociable hours. Travelling a lot of the time. I mean, look how far I’ve had to come to get a good story! My wife probably won’t speak to me for a week when I get home.”

“But I suppose you need a degree in journalism.”

“That’s what a lot of people do, or you can start by doing a bit of freelance work.”

“I’ve got a degree in English.”

“That’s a good start. We can have a chat tonight at dinner. You’ve certainly got a story to tell.”

Marlon was waiting for them at the Hydroponic Facility and took them directly to his laboratory.

“So this is the nerve centre of where we grow a lot of our food,” he said.

Glenn detected a pride in his voice.

“Do either of you know what is meant by hydroponics?’”

Blank silence.

“Basically, it’s a system for growing plants without soil,” Marlon said. “Follow me, I’ll show you our garden.”

They followed him through to a series of greenhouses, filled with plants from floor to roof. “They don’t really need soil to grow, just light and nutrients. The roots are submerged in oxygenated water which carries all the necessary minerals. We have complete control over the growing process. The temperature and humidity is controlled from the main control board in my laboratory, but it can be over-ridden locally if necessary. And of course, no soil means no weeds.”

“How much water does this use?” Alan asked.

“About one tenth of what we would use normally.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!”

“We generate our own electricity, and all the water is recycled and reused.”

Marlon led them into the next room, this time there were blocks and blocks of what Glenn took to be either cabbages or lettuces.

“So how many people do you have working with you, Marlon?”

“Three usually, but there are others I can borrow if necessary.”

Glenn looked at the rows and rows of plants, all identical in their straight lines.

“You could feed the whole world back home with this sort of system.”

“We could, but governments wouldn’t allow it. Produced like this, food would be affordable for everybody, but there would never be any shortage so there would be no excuse to raise the prices and make a profit. And the world back home is driven by profit.”

“Where’s Harry?” Terry broke in.

“Harry?”

“Yes, when did anyone last see him?”

“In the last room. I’ll go and fetch him.”

Glenn hoped he had hidden his sudden feeling of panic. He went back along the lines of luxuriant greenness, back to the first room. And there was Harry, walking towards him.

“Sorry, Glenn, I kinda wanted to see how they tie up these tomatoes on strings. Amazing place this.”

It had been a long day. When they finally returned to the canteen for dinner, and to meet up with the other visitors, Glenn was relieved to be able to relax. It had been a good day—he enjoyed seeing where their food came from, apart from when they thought they’d lost Harry Kinsella, despite Samael’s message to watch him. Finally he got a private moment with Michael.

“What’s this business about Harry, anyway?”

Michael looked around, as ever, he seemed nervous of being overheard.

“Samael sent Kinsella’s photo across to Base Camp 2, when he turned up as a replacement for Ellison Hunt, and he was identified as an active CIA agent.”

“I thought that the American base belonged to the CIA anyway.”

“It does. But the American government doesn’t acknowledge a presence on the Moon, and Alpha Base isn’t included in the visitors’ schedule—or even referred to.”

“What was he here for, then? Checking up on his own kind?”

“No idea. Mr Goldblatt was as surprised as anybody—not to mention annoyed. He used a few choice words I didn’t even realise he knew, when Samael told him. So he was no trouble, Kinsella?”

“No. He loved the hydroponic set-up, asked loads of questions, tried out the weights and the static cycles in the gym. But we’ll definitely make sure we watch him.”

Let’s hope that doesn’t come back to bite me!

Once dinner in the canteen was over, they headed for Sector B, another first for Glenn. Sector B was the home of the gym people, catering and library staff, he knew, but he had never needed to visit. It was the other side of the central hub, along with Sector A which housed the Angels. It was also the area for guests and visitors, but as far as he knew, these were the only ones they had ever had. The Common Room as they called it was a big step up from the little sitting room in the dorms in Sector C.

“Sector B’s OK,” Terry agreed, “but you’ve got more privacy in Sector C.”

Gabriel and Sidney Goldblatt busied themselves in setting out wine, beer and glasses on the coffee table, which was surrounded by two couches and several chairs.

“Help yourselves, guys,” Gabriel said.

“So,” Mr Goldblatt said, “have you all had an interesting day?”

Terry managed to seat himself next to Mickey, and returned to his conversation about becoming a journalist when his contract ended. Leyton gave him suggestions about how to get himself noticed as a freelancer.

“Of course, it helps if you can manage without eating for the first couple of years,” he added.

Harry, meanwhile, homed in on Richard and asked him about the mining Facility.

Richard sounded impressed. “Interesting place. State of the art machinery. We got the whole tour.”

“Did you get to speak to any of the workers?” Alan asked.

“Yes, we joined them at their lunch break. They all seemed to think they were lucky to be working there, because they’re going to retire in a couple of years as very rich men.”

“Do they seem to have many accidents? Did you see the First Aid facilities?”

“Apparently the men who work on the more risky jobs are skilled workers, and extremely experienced, and there are very few accidents. You’ll see for yourself tomorrow.”

Glenn was suddenly distracted by Samael arriving. He headed straight for Michael, and they slipped away from the rest of the group, taking seats on the far side of the room. He looked away. Moments later Michael was standing behind him. “‘Sammy’ wants a word. You can bring your drink.”

He followed Michael back to where Samael was sitting, a serious look on his face. “Sit down a minute, Glenn.”

He felt his gut tightening up. What have I done? Shylock?

Samael waited until he was sitting down.

“Harry Kinsella. Can you remember—did you notice anything unusual? Did he speak to anybody?”

Glenn would have to admit he had given them the slip. It wasn’t for long, but he was going to have to say something. He took a sip of his beer. “He disappeared back into the previous room where the tomatoes were. I don’t know how long he was gone. Alan had lots of questions about how the hydroponic system works and I suppose he was getting bored. That’s the only time he was out of our sight.”

“You didn’t see him trying to use a phone or a pager? He didn’t ask to borrow one?”

“No.” Glenn shook his head.

“OK.”

“He did say he needed the bathroom at breakfast. Alan went as well. Terry had to show them where it was, and he waited for them.”

“I’ll have a word with Terry later. If anybody asks you what we were talking about, say it’s about the new intake tomorrow. They’re due at 8.15 tomorrow morning. Michael, Raphael and Gabriel will handle them. We don’t want any of the Press bothering them. OK, Glenn, thanks for that. Let me know if you think of anything else.”

“Sure!” He returned to his seat.

“Everything all right?” Terry asked.

“Yes. It was about the new intake.”

“God! I’d forgotten all about that!”

Chapter 20

Glenn swung his legs off the bed, glanced at the little cabinet and realised he had not taken his sedation or vitamins. Quickly he flushed both down the sink. Today was going to be another interesting one. Today the new intake would be arriving, and he and Terry would be doing the tour-guide thing again. This time they wouldn’t have the incredible disappearing man. Harry Kinsella was to be with Roger.

Michael seemed to be doing his best to remain cool when they met for breakfast. Terry was due to arrive any minute with the visitors, so anything they needed to discuss had to be said quickly.

“Where the hell is Roger?” Samael muttered under his breath.

“What do you want him for?” Michael asked.

“I need to speak to him. I want him to leave early, without Harry Kinsella this morning. I don’t want Kinsella to go to the Extraction Facility. It’s too close to Base Camp 2, and to Alpha Base.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, to be honest. If you stop him from going he’s going to know we’ve sussed him out.”

“What I want to know is, why’s he here? If he’s CIA, he’ll be in contact with his colleagues anyway. He doesn’t need to come here personally, disguised as a journalist, does he?”

When Roger appeared, he emerged from the kitchen.

“Have you had breakfast?” Michael asked.

“Hours ago! I came in early to give the lads a hand. Graeme still hasn’t turned up.”

“I can live with that! Does the new driver know he’s got to be at the landing site to meet the shuttle at 8.30?”

“Yes. He mentioned it last night. Where’s Mr Goldblatt?”

“He’s going to be hanging around the landing site waiting to welcome them. Robbie’s taken him out there already. He’ll take one of Glenn and Terry’s guys to the observatory I expect, as long as he can be back for the new intake.”

“Roger! Just who I wanted to see!” Samael hurried over to him.

Glenn watched Roger’s demeanour change as he dropped his arms to his sides. All Glenn heard was Samael saying, ‘I’m sorry, Roger!’

Eventually, Glenn and Terry only got Mickey Leary and Richard Sullivan, as Mr Goldblatt had decided to take Leyton to the observatory, despite the new intake arrival scheduled for this morning. Richard wanted to go, so Mr Goldblatt promised to take him later.

Terry tried to smooth things over. “Sorry about this, Richard. He wants to give you all an opportunity to have his undivided attention, even if only for an hour. Unfortunately he didn’t tell us about his plans until we had already worked out our timetable, so we’ve both had to compromise. He’ll page us and let us know where he’ll pick you up.”

“Not your fault,” Richard said. “Let’s see this gym, then!”

True to his word, Goldblatt paged Terry with a message that he would meet Richard at lunchtime, and they could then go to the observatory, which meant he would not get to see the Hydroponic Facility.

For lunch, they all met in the canteen again. The visitors seemed happy with the experience so far. Since the get-together the previous night, they were more relaxed in each other’s company, and there was none of the rivalry Glenn had expected.

Halfway through lunch, Samael’s pager beeped.

“Excuse me,” he muttered. He pulled it out of his pocket, glanced at it and his face grew sombre. “Excuse me, folks,” he said again. Still holding the pager, he got up and left the table.

After lunch, Glenn and Terry took Mickey and Leyton to the Hydroponic Facility and managed to get them back for their journey to the landing area and the waiting space shuttle.

Mr Goldblatt shook hands with everybody, flashed his toothy grin all round, and thanked everyone for making the visit so successful, before he and the visitors drove off in the two rovers. Roger seemed quieter than usual.

Samael and Michael stood and watched them go.

“Thank god that’s over,” Samael said. “The new intake people settling in OK?”

“Yes, three for Base Camp 1, the rest for the Extraction Facility.” Michael turned and saw Glenn and Terry standing there. “You two can call it a day,” he said. “I’ll tell Gabriel,” he told Terry.

“Thanks for all your help. Glenn, I’ll get you back to Base Camp 2 tomorrow. I promise!”

Yes!

“Thanks, Michael, much appreciated.”

“What about me?” Terry asked.

“You’re staying here, I’m afraid. We’ve got a new man for the library, he is a qualified librarian, but he needs breaking in. So you’ll need to trust Glenn to carry on at Base Camp 2.”

“That’s all right. I can blame him if anything goes wrong!” Terry slapped Glenn on the back. “Let’s go to the library and find a DVD, and wind down after all the excitement.”

Glenn’s last night in his old dorm. He was greeted by the familiar air-freshener smell and the awful default background music, as soon as he walked in. Perhaps they change it at Christmas—if they even have Christmas in this Brave New World.

He checked the lockers for signs of new people. They were all empty. If anybody was moving in, they would have left their gear there when they arrived, so at least he wouldn’t be disturbed by strangers. He remembered his own first day, half a lifetime ago.

He glanced at the three pills on the cabinet beside his bed, then he took the vitamin tablet, swallowing it down with the remains of a bottle of water. The Green #1 he flushed down the sink. He didn’t need it—he was sufficiently acclimatised to the artificial day and night by now. Daniel and the medics didn’t have to take night-time sedation, so why should he? It was better to be chemical free.

He lay back on the bed. The gel started to become soft and heat up under his body, making him feel warm and floaty. Who needs drugs to sleep? Tomorrow he would be back in Base Camp 2, and everything would be normal. And perhaps, now the media madness was over, somebody would find out what happened to Billy.

He kept thinking back to seeing Billy lying there…

Glenn was originally to be Roger’s only passenger for Base Camp 2 next morning, but Roger had been told to wait for Samael. He sat down in the Departure Lounge while Glenn suited up.

“You OK, Roger?”

“Yeah, gotta be, haven’t you?”

Roger was usually cheerful. Nothing got to him.

“That bad? Problems with the visitors?” He remembered Roger’s meeting with Samael before he left for the Mineral Extraction Facility.

“Too right! Bloody Harry Kinsella. He disappeared for twenty minutes yesterday. I’ve no idea where he went or who he spoke to, but me and Alan, we looked everywhere for him. Then he just reappeared as though nothing had happened. No explanation, nothing.”

“They told you he was CIA?”

“Yes. Eventually.” Roger checked the time, got up and walked around, then sat down again. “He must have known exactly where he was going, though, or someone knew where to find him. That place is like a maze when you get down into the mine itself. You could be lost down there for days.”

“You’ve actually been down the mine?”

“Yes. It was part of the First Responder training, in case we ever had to go down there and pull somebody out if there was a rockfall.”

“Makes sense.”

“But that guy, one minute he was with us, then he suddenly disappeared. Wasn’t there anymore. He must have seen the precise turn-off he wanted and gave us the slip. He knew exactly where to go.”

“Could someone have given him a map?”

“There aren’t any maps. The place changes all the time as the seams are worked.”

“We lost him, too. Me and Terry, but not for that long. He had gone back into the room we’d previously been in. Said he wanted to see how the tomatoes were tied.”

“You ready to leave, Roger?”

Samael had arrived. He got his pressure suit from his locker and started to put it on. “Don’t feel bad about losing Kinsella yesterday. He’s CIA. He’s trained to lose people he doesn’t want around. That’s what they do.”

Chapter 21

Daniel was in the canteen when Glenn paged him to say he was back, and they arranged to meet at lunch-time.

“I thought there was something going on, because everyone in charge seemed to be more stressed out than usual. But I knew nothing about the visitors,” he told Glenn.

“Did you hear about Billy?” Glenn asked.

“What? Our Billy? What’s he done?”

“He’s dead. He was found outside without a suit.”

“What? Intentionally? Like as in suicide?”

“Probably not. It was me that found him, Danny. He was out on the surface near Base Camp 1, and there was no way he could have walked there, without a suit and without oxygen. I saw him through the telescope at the Observatory.”

“Jesus! How awful! But why would anybody want to harm Billy? He never upset anyone. Could be a bit irritating at times, but you don’t kill someone for talking too much!”

Glenn was quiet for a moment.

“Perhaps you do, if they say the wrong things. He was always on about the stuff that went on here—the stuff that wasn’t supposed to be general knowledge. Perhaps it got back to the wrong people.” He paused again. “You know what I mean.” Then he went on, “Michael’s going to look into what happened. He says. It was just before we had the visitors, so he had to leave it hanging until things got back to normal. But he can’t just do nothing about it.”

Daniel returned to the wards feeling an inner sadness about Billy. He was a simple soul, a big kid, really. It wasn’t fair.

He saw that Zophiel had just received a new casualty as he walked into Ward 1, and he was talking to somebody behind the curtain. He pulled the drapes back as they finished assessing the patient. It was Jimmy Springer.

“I’ll do the obs on the other sleepers and let you know of any change, then,” Matthew said. “Shall I take Daniel?”

“No. I need to tell him about Jimmy Springer. He’ll catch you up.”

“What’s happened to him this time?”

“He reckons he tripped over, but come and look at him. This was no trip.”

Daniel walked over to the bed where Jimmy lay. His face was swollen, and bruises were beginning to appear around both eyes. The fingers of both hands were broken and bloody.

“It looks as though somebody’s been doing a dance on his hands.

“We’re going to have to x-ray him to assess the full extent of the damage.”

Daniel nodded.

Jimmy groaned.

“Congratulations, Mr Springer! This has got to be a first,” Zophiel said.

Jimmy peered at him through swollen eyes and started to say something, but seemed to change his mind.

“First time ever that your injuries have not been either imaginary or self-inflicted.”

Jimmy groaned again.

“At least there are no new sleepers,” Daniel said.

“No, not for a couple of days now. I just wish we knew what caused it, though. Doctor Gottlieb wants to wake up a couple more and see what happens. Trouble is, a most of them are Experimentals from Alpha Base, and nobody will tell us exactly what’s going on there. So we don’t really know what we’re up against.”

“Are they given drugs? I know they’re not allowed to be given painkillers.”

“I understand they’re being trained to be the most efficient soldier possible. That includes turning down, or off, the body’s response to pain and fear in a battle situation. Doctor Gottlieb told me that much.”

“Phew! That’s some project!”

“The thing is, if our potential enemies are experimenting with this sort of thing, we’ve got to learn about it too. It’s like the arms race, and chemical and biological weapons. We don’t want to use them, but we can’t close our eyes to the fact that they exist.”

“So it’s just for defence?”

“Of course.”

“Wow! That’s amazing!” That seemed the right thing to say under the circumstances.

“The world’s in one hell of a state, Daniel. We’ve destroyed one planet, and now we’re planning to move on to the next one.”

“But the sleepers—have you still no idea what’s actually causing the psychosis? Can’t you sit down and have a talk to the doctor who’s in charge of the project? Tell him you can’t treat people if you don’t know what’s causing it.”

“I have an idea what they’re doing, but there’s got to be more to it. There’s no way it should cause psychosis. Some people are a bit flaky to start with, let’s face it, we’ve got the dregs of society in the Mining Facility—the drug addicts, the child molesters, and those who think the government should pay them just for existing. They even pay us to take them away. And we try to turn them into useful citizens. Or soldiers, in General Theakston’s department. It’s not easy.”

He suddenly changed the subject.

“You’ve got a good head on you, Daniel. Michael said that as soon as he met you. With the right people behind you, you could go far.”

Daniel looked him in the eyes and waited for him to say more.

“Well, that’s something for you to be thinking about.” Zophiel gave a small laugh. “Right. Would you clean up Mr Springer’s injuries and dress them, then get him into pyjamas. Doctor Gottlieb is going to have a little talk with him.”

Jimmy Springer was very quiet while Daniel was treating him. Gone was his usual cheeky banter.

“I don’t want Doctor Gottlieb,” he said as Daniel took him to the showers. He walked slowly and painfully along the corridor, protesting all the way.

“Tough! He wants you!”

“Look, mate, I’m OK honestly. I just need to get back to work.”

“That’s not what Doctor Zophiel thinks.”

“Please! Just let me get back to work.”

Whatever Jimmy tried to tell them about tripping over, the bruising on his body said otherwise. Daniel was shocked when he saw the extent of the discolouration around the man’s ribs when he removed his clothing to get in the shower. On his back was a distinct boot mark where somebody must have kicked him.

And when Lloyd from the Pharmacy brought them the x-ray pictures, Zophiel confirmed that he had four broken ribs.

“I told you,” he insisted, “I tripped over, and I fell against a handrail.”

“Jimmy,” Zophiel said, “you have broken ribs on both sides. Are you telling me you fell against a handrail, then bounced off and hit the opposite wall?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened. Well, perhaps I hit my head as well, because I don’t remember nothing else.”

“Come on, Jimmy, let’s get your dressing gown off and get you into bed. Daniel, please.”

“Can’t I sit in the chair?”

“Yes, if you want to. But you’d be better resting in bed.”

Once Zophiel had left the ward, Jimmy grabbed Daniel’s arm.

“Do you know a man called Graeme?”

“Graeme? I know a Graeme. Why?”

“I need to see him. To get a message to him.”

Daniel looked down at the bandaged hand which attempted to restrain him.

“Sorry.” Jimmy removed the offending hand. “Sorry. But I really need to see him. To speak to him. It’s urgent.”

“What is urgent?” Daniel paused. How did Jimmy Springer know somebody from Base Camp 1?

Jimmy took a deep breath which caused him to grab hold of his side and grimace with pain.

“Just relax, Jimmy. If I see Graeme I’ll tell him you’re asking for him. Try to get some rest.”

“I’m not tired. I don’t want to get into bed. I just need to speak to Graeme, before they catch up with him.”

“OK, if you’re not tired, I’ll let Doctor Gottlieb know you’re ready to speak to him, shall I?”

“Perhaps I do need to get some sleep.”

“Good idea. I’ll look in on you later.”

Doctor Gottlieb came into the ward halfway through the afternoon, while Daniel took a moment to relax.

“So far so good. No new cases.”

Zophiel nodded. “It’s gone quiet. But we’re not complaining.”

“I’m going to cut down the sedation on one of the sleepers and debrief him in the morning.”

“Any one in particular?”

Doctor Gottlieb went over to the computer on the desk. “Let’s have a look.” He peered at the screen for a moment. “Larry Bird, I think. He’ll do.”

“He’s one of General Theakston’s,” Zophiel commented.

“Most of them are!”

“Yes, I’ve noticed. Where does he get his men from?”

“Sorry?”

“I mean, are they selected by the CIA?”

“I’m not sure. He tells me as little as possible. He ran a similar facility back home and there were problems, I understand.”

“What sort of problems?”

“Problems with ... sort of rumours … put about by conspiracy theorists. Bad publicity.” Gottlieb laughed.

“You mean someone found out what he was up to?”

“Something like that!”

This time they both laughed.

Daniel kept his head down and busied himself at reading Jimmy’s notes for a while, then retrieved his study paperwork. But they didn’t seem to worry what he overheard anymore. He was almost one of them now.

“Some of the men are from the Extraction Facility. He takes the troublesome ones that nobody else can handle, and tries to lick them into shape. Make perfect soldiers of them.”

“And does it work?”

“Yes. Quite often. He gives them a purpose. To be the best soldiers the world has ever known and bring a better world order into existence.”

“We all want that. So why won’t he cooperate with us?”

“He wants to do it his own way. And to run the show, of course.”

“So where does the CIA stand on this?”

Gottlieb shrugged his shoulders. “Presidents may come and go. Some are malleable, some are a pain in the butt. But the Deep State will go on forever. We, the ones who want to see a better world, we just remain in the shadows, but tug the strings now and then. Most of the time, it’s making the best of a bad job. You get a crap President, you wait for him to be voted out—or get assassinated—then pick up the pieces afterwards.”

“Well, here’s another question for you. Harry Kinsella. Why was he included in that media party at the last minute?” Zophiel suddenly asked.

“I don’t know, Zophiel, I knew nothing about it.”

“On your oath?”

“On my oath.”

“And I suppose you’ve no idea where he went when he gave the driver the slip?”

“No. I knew nothing about that, either. But I’m only here as a psychiatrist, as you know. CIA don’t keep me informed.”

“We both know you’re more than that.”

“I do the occasional surgery, but I prefer to transform the mind, rather than the brain. The neurosurgeon Theakston uses is a bit heavy-handed, though, so occasionally I help put right the odd mistake.”

“Right, I get it. Now, Larry Bird. Let’s go and have a look at him.”

Daniel waited for his moment. Sometimes it was difficult to know when to speak up and when to keep your mouth shut.

“Have you got a minute, Zophiel?”

“Yes, sure. Is there a problem?”

“Jimmy Springer. When I was cleaning him up, he said something weird. In fact he waited until you’d left the ward before he asked me.”

Zophiel sat down at the Medics’ Station beside him. “Go on.”

“He was really stressed out about something. He said he wanted—needed—to speak to Graeme—the guy who sometimes brings stuff over from Base Camp 1 canteen.. He asked me to give him a message.”

“What was the message?”

“Nothing specific, only that he needed to see him.”

“You know this Graeme, do you? There was a potential problem with a Graeme when the media men were here. Bit of a nuisance. Needed to be kept out of the way.”

“He was in my dormitory when I was at Base Camp 1. Him, me, Glenn who’s working setting up the library here, and a lad called Billy. Billy got killed recently.” He looked at Zophiel, waiting for a reaction before continuing, but as ever, Zophiel was giving nothing away. “I mean, do Jimmy and the guys at the Mining Facility know about Base Camp 1? I didn’t know what to say.”

“They shouldn’t know. There’s no need for them to know. They’ll never need to go there.”

“I didn’t know how it works, if you see what I mean. When they first arrive here, do they go straight to the mines, or do they go to Base Camp 1 first?”

“They don’t go to Base Camp 1 ever. We know who’s going to work in the mines before they get here. They’re selected for that job, We don’t just drag somebody out of the library at send him to be a miner. But I wonder how Jimmy knew Graeme. The only thing they’ve got in common is that they’re both bloody nuisances that should have been drowned at birth.”

Daniel stifled a laugh. “But they could know each other. Graeme runs the Base Camp 1 canteen—well, he thinks he does—actually he just works there. And sometimes he brings supplies over here if Gino runs out of something. He’s been trained as a rover driver so he can do deliveries. And Jimmy always waits in the canteen for his transport when he’s had his treatment. So they could have met, but they’re hardly likely to be mates.”

“That’s interesting. I’ll get Samael to have a word with Gino, see if he’s ever seen them sitting together, and check the CCTV. I suppose he could been bringing stuff over here for Jimmy, chocolate, bottled water. Things you need tokens for. It makes sense why Jimmy’s always claiming to have stupid little accidents. This is the only place they could meet up. We could be onto something here. What doesn’t make sense is why Graeme would want to do it. What’s in it for him?”

“I just thought you ought to know.”

“Yes, thanks, Daniel. Let me know anything else he says.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Before you came here, do you ever remember meeting a man called Milenkovic?”

Daniel froze. There was a sick feeling in his stomach. That name. It meant something, he just didn’t know what. Or where. Whoever he was, he must have been bad news.

“Milenkovic? No. I don’t think so.”

“OK. Doesn’t matter. Must have been somebody else.”

Daniel was hoping to catch up with Glenn as he sat in the canteen at lunchtime, but it was Samael who came to join him.

“Tell me about Jimmy Springer and Graeme,” the big security boss said.

“I don’t really know anything definite about it, except, as I told Zophiel, that they could know each other, because Graeme does come over here occasionally, and Jimmy waits for his lift back in the canteen.”

“Can I help?” Gino asked, leaning on the counter.

“Let’s find out. Graeme from Base Camp 1 catering—does he ever have reason to come over here?”

“Graeme? Yes. He’s been over here a few times, when I’ve run low on stuff and there’s not a delivery due.”

“And does he just come to the canteen, do you know? Or does he have other people who he meets?”

“He doesn’t really talk to me that much, only to say that his canteen is so much better than mine and to tell me what I’m doing wrong. He used to have to wait for Roger to get back to Base Camp 1, and he’d wait in the canteen. Sometimes he’d talk to people, and sometimes he just ignored everyone. But now he can drive himself. Occasionally he takes return passengers, but not often.”

“OK, what about Jimmy Springer?”

“I don’t know the name.”

Samael brought up a picture on his pager and showed him. “Him. Do you know him?”

“Oh yes. He’s in here pretty regularly. He’s usually waiting for transport as well.”

“And have you ever seen them together or talking?”

“Quite often. They usually have lunch, or sometimes coffee, together.”

“Would you say they meet up intentionally, or just happen to bump into each other?”

“They definitely intend to meet each other. Graeme gets very stressed if the other guy is late. He starts walking up and down, and muttering under his breath. Asked me once if anybody has been in asking for him.”

He looked up at Samael, whose height ensured that he loomed over people, even if he didn’t intend to.

“Am I in trouble?”

“No, you’re not. Not at all. I just need some information. Did you ever see Graeme give Jimmy Springer anything?”

“Only once. Well, he didn’t exactly give him something, but he came in with a bag once, like a grocery bag, and put it on the table, and when they left, I didn’t hear anybody say anything, but the other guy picked it up.”

“And they left together?”

“Yes.”

“OK Gino. Thanks. You’ve been very helpful. Let me know if you remember anything else. I’ll be over here for a couple of days. Or Zophiel can get me if I’m back at Base Camp 1.”

As soon as Samael left, Gino looked over at Daniel.

“What was that all about?”

“I really don’t know what’s going on. But I do know that Jimmy Springer got badly beaten up recently. And I mean badly. He looks like a sumo wrestler had jumped on him from a great height. And this time, he wasn’t putting it on.”

“It can’t be anything to do with Graeme. He hasn’t been over here for quite a while. Jacko at Base Camp 1 catering, he told me. He said Graeme hasn’t been into work for three or four days and nobody’s seen him. Not that they’re complaining. They both say they can work better on their own.”

“What am I missing?” Glenn walked in and headed for the coffee machine. “What’s this about?”

“This guy, Jimmy Springer, has been beaten up and he’d been asking me about Graeme,” Daniel said. “Samael was asking Gino about whether they come in here and if they know each other.”

“I’ve seen them meeting in here. You remember when Graeme was bringing home all the leftovers and giving them to us? Well, I think he was probably selling stuff to Jimmy. He definitely gave Jimmy something in a bag one time when I saw him in here.”

They settled for a sandwich for lunch, as time was precious. Daniel was anxious to get back to work and see how the Jimmy Springer saga was progressing, if at all.

“Glenn came into the canteen after you left,” Daniel told Samael. “He’d witnessed Graeme giving Jimmy Springer a bag of something in the canteen, too.”

Samael and Zophiel exchanged glances.

“I’ll give him one more chance to tell me,” Samael said. “I know he’s lying, and I want to know why.”

“I’ll have him moved to the Quiet Room. Daniel can do that in a minute.”

Daniel looked first at Zophiel then at Samael.

“Daniel’s a good man. Doctor Gottlieb likes him, too. He has prospects.”

“That’s good to know. Any idea where Roger is? I want to speak to the Base Camp 1 canteen lads.”

“He’s on his way to the Extraction Facility to pick up another casualty.”

“What? Not another psychosis case? I thought that had run its course.”

“No. There have been a few fights and brawls over there recently. Nothing we need to worry about, I don’t think. Just too much testosterone and too few outlets for it. I’ll page Roger for an ETA.”

“You can take Jimmy to the Quiet Room as soon as he’s had his medication,” Zophiel said. “Leave him on the trolley. I’ll let Samael know.”

“Where actually is this Quiet Room?”

“Down past the new wards we opened up. Follow the tape until it runs out, and then keep going.”

“Ha! Unmarked territory!”

“Exactly. Terra incognita. Here be dragons. Don’t worry, though, they’re our dragons. It says Quiet Room on the door—you won’t get lost. We can always find you. Just leave him on the trolley, don’t bother transferring him to the bed.”

Zophiel prepared a syringe.

“What’s that you’re giving him?”

“Scopolamine. It won’t make him tell the ruth, it just makes it more difficult for him to think up lies.”

He walked over to Jimmy Springer’s bed.

Daniel watched as Zophiel found a vein in Jimmy’s arm and injected some colourless liquid into him.

“Just a few vitamins, to keep your strength up, Mr Springer.”

Jimmy grunted. “Fucking needles!”

Zophiel went back to the Medics’ Station and took something out of the drawer.

“Here, you’ll need this card to get into the Quiet Room,” he told Daniel. “Don’t forget his notes.”

Daniel transferred a rather wobbly Jimmy Springer onto a trolley and wheeled him out into the corridor, down past the new wards, past the canteen and the pharmacy, until the corridor wall was no longer marked with tape. Here the corridor lights only came on as he reached the area. Just when he thought he would never find it, it was there in front of him. Two doors, actually, one marked Quiet Room, the other marked Waiting Room. And a little further down, another room marked Theatre.

He opened the door with the card, and the light came on inside. A small room with a single chair in the middle, with leather straps fitted to its arms and legs. There were several cupboards and a refrigerator, plus a sink in one corner and a heart monitor machine behind the chair. The walls seemed to be covered with some kind of sound proofing material. It was bleak and clinical. It exuded Dettol and despair in equal measures.

Daniel stood quietly taking in the atmosphere, before wheeling the trolley alongside the chair. Jimmy Springer lay half asleep now, breathing softly.

He made sure the door was secured as he left, and returned to the wards. Strangely, this sort of thing was beginning to feel normal now.

Samael had arrived meantime, accompanied by a security man who Daniel didn’t recognise. He looked at his watch.

“Come on then,” he said, “let’s take a slow walk down there. We’ll have a little talk with him.”

“What about Graeme?” Daniel asked after they had left. “Nobody seems to know where he is.”

Zophiel gave a wink and a little smile. “That’s because nobody’s asked me. I had him picked up two days ago.”

“So where is he?” Maybe he shouldn’t have asked, but they seemed to be confiding in him a lot more lately.

“Doctor Gottlieb has him. He’s been a problem every time he’s been here, and this time he’s worse than ever. He’s been stabilised twice this time, but it just doesn’t last. He’s been upsetting the men, too, which isn’t on. Michael’s fed up with his antics.”

“What can you do, though? I mean, how can you stop him from making trouble when he gets back home? I heard he was saying to everyone that he wanted to talk to the media visitors, and he had things to tell them.”

“I know. But—and this isn’t general knowledge—Gabriel’s his uncle—his mother’s brother—so we had to give him another chance. Now, Gabriel says that anything that happens to him, he’s brought it on himself, he washes his hands.”

“Must be difficult for Gabriel.”

“It is. We all want the best for the next generation, but Graeme has fought against him all the way.”

Daniel nodded. “He was very difficult as a dormitory mate. Always arguing with someone, usually Billy Tetley, and he seemed to enjoy setting people against one another. What’s going to happen with him now?”

“We’ll see what Anton can do with him. Actually, he’s a very skilful neurosurgeon and he’s had a lot of success with the more recalcitrant cases. But he prefers to use pharmaceuticals and hypnotherapy. If he can make Graeme... more amenable... it will be beneficial all round. But pharmaceuticals haven’t worked so far, and he can’t be allowed to jeopardise what we’re trying to do. Graeme is a problem. We can only wait and see in a couple of days.”

“Zoph, we’ve had a breakthrough!” Samael had returned, and he was smiling. “You’re not going to believe this.”

“Try me.”

Samael produced a memory stick from his pocket. “Jimmy Springer claims that Graeme has been making alcohol and using him to distribute it amongst the men. It’s all on here, but I’d like to edit it before I give it to you. The sound’s not too good.”

“Let me hear it anyway, then you can clean it up. Come into my office.”

Zophiel turned to Daniel.

“Daniel, would you bring Mr Springer back and put him on Ward 3, please. He’s still in the Quiet Room, because the waiting room is in use.”

“One of yours?” Samael asked.

“No. One of Doctor Gottlieb’s.”

He fetched the key card from the drawer and handed it to Daniel.

“I’m afraid he had a fall when he tried to get off the trolley,” Samael said.

Daniel looked straight at him. “Yes. He’s very accident prone. He’s always coming in here with minor injuries. It’s all on his records.”

Daniel made his way back to the Quiet Room and let himself in. Jimmy was lying on the trolley moaning softly, his face still covered with blood. When he saw Daniel, he bit his lip and fell silent. Daniel walked over to him, carefully avoiding a soaking wet towel on the floor, which he threw into the sink. Several blood-soaked cotton-wool swabs lay there in a receiver.

“Can you sit up?”

“I think so.” He gulped a breath. “My ribs!” he gasped.

“Sorry about that, but we don’t strap broken ribs up anymore. They tend to heal better on their own.” He helped Jimmy to sit up. “Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

Slowly he put his feet down on the floor and stood up. Daniel notice two broken teeth which had been lying underneath him on the trolley. He threw them into the bin.

“Come over to the sink and I’ll clean you up.”

“I tripped over something on the floor,” he said.

“You have a lot of accidents, don’t you, Jimmy? Hold onto the sink a minute.”

He found wipes and antiseptic and cleaned Jimmy’s face.

“Let me see your hands.” There was no fresh blood. “Just stay there a minute.”

He wiped the trolley down with disinfectant and put a clean sheet over it, while Jimmy stood bent over, clinging to the sink like he expected it to take off.

“Let’s get you back to the ward, then.”

He helped Jimmy back onto the trolley and wheeled him out through the door. The clattering sound of the wheels echoed as he pushed it along the corridor, before he finally settled his patient down on Ward 3. Then he went to find Zophiel to return the card.

“Jimmy’s on Ward 3.”

“Is he OK?”

“He’ll live.”

“Well done, Daniel.” Zophiel nodded and smiled at him.

If that was a test, it seemed he’d just passed it.

Chapter 22

Gino was at the counter wiping it down with a cloth when Glenn entered the canteen.

“Any scrambled eggs today, Gino?” he asked.

“Yes, we have actually. I got them in special!”

“Great! And a bottle of water, please.”

He walked over to the counter, rummaging in his pocket for a token for the water. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar figure sitting quietly on his own. Familiar, but somehow different. It couldn’t be him, could it? Glenn turned his full attention to Gino. The smell of scrambled eggs was still enticing, even if it was the same each day.

“Here you go, mate. Back at the library, are you?”

“Yes. It’s now officially open for the staff.”

“Any dirty books?”

Glenn laughed. “Haven’t seen any.”

He picked up his plate and bottle of water and found a seat, trying to ignore the figure in the corner.

“Hello!” the familiar figure called out, “My name’s Graeme. What’s your name?”

What the hell!

“Hi, Graeme!”

“I haven’t seen you before. Have you been here long?”

“Er—no, only a few days.” He couldn’t be bothered to explain.

“My mother often used to come here, years ago, you know.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. A nice quiet little resort, she always said.”

“Oh? Right.”

He looked over to Gino for help. Gino put a finger to his lips and disappeared into the kitchen, trying not to laugh,.

“Of course, the staff aren’t as good as they used to be. But then, I suppose you have to take what you can get. It’s no good complaining, though. And it’s still very pleasant.”

“Don’t worry about that, Graeme. Daniel is on his way to take you back to your room,” Gino said.

“Daniel? I don’t know anybody called Daniel. There was that one that went into the lions’ den, of course. Strange that, how he didn’t get eaten, wasn’t it?”

“I expect they’d just been fed,” Gino suggested.

“Probably costs a lot of money to feed big animals like that. It’s not like you can give them a saucer of bread and milk, is it?”

It wasn’t Daniel who arrived, but Zophiel.

“Come along, Graeme,” he said.

He glanced at Glenn, “He’s got lost again.”

Graeme stood up, looked all around the canteen, then picked up his plate and put it on the counter.

“Don’t forget to finish your coffee, Graeme!” Gino called out.

“Oh, yes. My coffee. I nearly forgot. Mustn’t do that.”

Zophiel took his arm. “Come on, Graeme. Doctor Gottlieb is looking for you.”

“You didn’t tell him I was hiding, did you?” he said, as Zophiel whisked him out of the canteen.

“What was that all about?”

Gino pulled a face, shrugged his shoulders and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Glenn pinged Daniel a quick message, but he had already finished his breakfast before Daniel arrived.

“Good to see you back!” Daniel didn’t sit down. “So how’s Base Camp 1?”

“Much the same. You just missed Graeme. I came in here for breakfast and there he was.”

“Graeme? Well, he comes over to bring supplies for our canteen sometimes…”

“Not this time. He was away with the fairies. Weird isn’t the word for it! Gino paged you—well I thought Gino paged you—but Zophiel came and got him.”

“Oh, well he’ll probably be on one of the wards when I get back.”

“He didn’t recognise me, Daniel. He said, ‘My name’s Graeme.’ Like we’d never met. Then he started telling me how his mother used to come here years ago because it was a nice quiet resort.”

“Great! We’ve got enough nutcases already, without them bringing their alter egos here for a holiday.”

“It wasn’t like before, after he was stabilised. Then, he knew that he’d needed treatment, and why. This time, he didn’t even know who I was, and he seriously thought he was in some holiday resort with his mother.”

Daniel gave a little shrug. “Shit happens.”

He simply didn’t seem interested. Nothing in this place made sense.

Graeme had disappeared for a few days, and now he came back with a scar on his head and a new version of reality. And somehow he now seemed to see Gino’s poky little canteen as a posh hotel restaurant at a holiday resort.

Daniel too, had disappeared and come back. Daniel was the one who warned him about not drinking the coffee. And when they transferred him to the medical sector, he thought he had been away for a few days, but to everybody else it was what? Two, three weeks? And now he was a rising star, fast tracked through the ranks on a path for greater things.

It was time to bring Shylock out of hiding and dust off the mothballs. Or whatever it was you did to mothballs.

The library was still quiet during the daytime while everyone was at work. Glenn took out the entry code for Shylock, and was about to log in. He looked around guiltily.

No, not on my computer, too risky!

He had to use one of the others, the ones anybody could access.

He found one as far from the reception area as possible, and logged in as he had done before. But this time, the links he had found were no longer there. He tried a second, then third time. Finally he found Daniel’s personal details—his marital status was now given as single, no children, his place of birth was Oxford. What did it say before, surely it was London? But the newspaper reports, and the Red Cross report about the death of his wife and child, were missing. Daniel’s background changed every time he looked.

Like Schrödinger’s cat, Daniel’s daughter was either alive or brutally murdered, but you have to open the file to find out. And every time you open the file, it changes. Did Daniel actually even speak to his daughter on the video calls the Angels had set up? Or was she dead long before he even joined the project?

But, why? Why go to all the trouble of giving this perfectly normal—almost boring—man a new background, what was so special about him?

He really should ditch this fake ID before he got caught out, though. One last look before he shredded the number. Being nosy was becoming too addictive.

Graeme. What was his surname? Dane, that’s it. Graeme Dane. Let’s have a look.

He keyed in the name. Graeme Octavius Dane came up. No wonder he was such a miserable bugger with a name like that!

Born to a fourteen year old mother, who later married when he was five. That didn’t work out, it seemed. After that, he was brought up by his maternal grandmother until he was twelve. When she died, his mother’s brother tried to adopt him, but that didn’t work out either. He was already out of control. So into ‘care’.

Shit! Poor bastard. For a nanosecond, Glenn almost felt sorry for him.

When Glenn went to lunch, Daniel was already standing leaning on the counter while Gino heated something in the microwave oven.

“All right, Daniel?”

“Yes. Busy, but OK. Everything’s under control. How’s the new library?”

“Quiet still. People are starting to come in during the evening, though.”

Daniel got his meal and went and sat down.

“Graeme was away with the fairies when I saw him in here,” Glenn continued. “So you’ve got him with you now?”

He got his food and joined Daniel at his table.

“Yes. I didn’t see him when he was really bad—he was in a different section. He’s calmed down a bit now, but he’s still not sure what decade it is.”

“How’s the studying going? Got any more exams coming up?”

“Not at the moment, but I’m still studying, of course. It’s ongoing at the moment. It’s amazing how much is coming back to me.”

“Beats counting paperclips, I suppose.”

But Daniel didn’t laugh. Perhaps he’d already forgotten about paperclips.

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything more on the grapevine about what happened to Billy?” Glenn continued.

“No, I haven’t. But I probably wouldn’t, because he was Base Camp 1.”

“I suppose not. Do you know if he had any family? Any kids?”

Daniel paused for a moment.

He seemed to be trying to remember. A lot of people on this contract seemed to have trouble remembering things.

“No. I don’t think he said anything. Billy was always telling us all about everyone else, but he didn’t say much about himself.”

“Talking about family, have you heard anything about your daughter recently?”

That puzzled look on Daniel’s face again.

“Me? A daughter? No, I’m completely footloose and fancy free. You’re thinking of someone else.”

“Yes, I must be…thinking of someone else. Sorry, I could have sworn it was you.”

“No. No ring on my finger, or through my nose!”

“Best way to be.”

Is this weird, or what?

Daniel continued eating his pizza, but went rather quiet.

“Right,” he said finally. “I must get back. People to stick needles in, paperclips to count! See you later, mate.”

Glenn didn’t feel reassured by the meeting with Daniel.

None of it made sense.

This man who had talked non-stop about his daughter for weeks, begged his manager to help him get in touch with her, even had her photo beside his bed, is now denying that she had ever existed.

Graeme, resident pain-in-the-butt, didn’t even recognise him in the canteen, and was babbling like a man with Alzheimer’s about childhood holidays with his mother.

Was he the only sane person here?

Glenn made his way back to the library after lunch. But there wasn’t much to do there now, since the set-up was complete. A sudden idea. If he could access local newspapers, he might be able to find out something about Daniel that hadn’t already been censored by the powers-that-be. Then, after that, Shylock was going to retire. That was a promise. He was pushing his luck too far.

He sat down at a computer, a different one this time, and keyed in the access code, but as quickly as he typed the series of letters and numbers, they disappeared. ‘Please enter your access code’, it said again. He did, and it disappeared again. He fumbled in his pocket for the well-used piece of paper with the code on, checked it and tried again. ‘Please enter your access code’. Was there any point in trying a different machine? Probably not.

Was it—just possible—that somebody was on to him, and playing with him?

After dinner that evening, he went back to the library and kept it open for potential customers for a while—he had nothing better to do, after all. One or two people came in. Matthew from the Medical Facility, wanting to watch a DVD, then Gino, chirpy as ever, who asked for a tour of what was on offer. Then he suggested that Glenn should print a leaflet for him to put up in the canteen, saying that the library was now open, and what was available.

It seemed to be a good idea. It would be great when more people got to know about it. By the time he left the library and returned to the dormitory, he definitely felt more positive.

The little green pill was sitting there waiting for him. He could never quite get used to the way that tablets appeared, and beds were made, all without anybody seeing these invisible people they called ‘Gremlins’, who somehow went about their business without ever using the canteen.

He looked at the tablet again before dropping it down the plug hole and flushing it away. There! It was gone. Too late to change his mind.

He showered and got into bed. He gazed across at Terry’s empty bed opposite his. Once again, his mind started churning over what had been happening as soon as he lied down. But the background music suggested relaxation and peace. That and the softness of the bed, and the growing warmth, soon lulled him to sleep.

Next morning he woke up trying to remember what had happened during the night. Maybe it had been a dream, but he kind of remembered waking up and, instead of soft music, the system was just giving out white noise. He decided it was a dream. It had never happened before.

Arriving at the library, he unlocked the doors and was preparing for another quiet—boring even--day, when Marcus came in, carrying a small medical bag.

“Morning, Glenn,” he said. “Just a routine blood test.”

Chapter 23

Daniel poured himself a coffee from the canteen coffee machine.

“Hi Daniel, what can I get you?” Gino called out.

“What’s today’s specialty?”

“Pizza and chips, or meat pie and chips or burger and chips. Or for vegetarians, chips and chips.”

Daniel pulled a face. “I don’t trust ‘meat’. If you don’t say what sort of meat, it could be anything, rat, kangaroo or roadkill.”

“We don’t have any kangaroos here. Or roadkill.”

“But you have rats?”

“Who knows? Rats get everywhere. I should know, my mother married one.”

“I hope that’s not him in the pie!”

“Nah! Never managed to catch him. Now, if Graeme was in charge, he’d have set traps everywhere, carefully numbered and colour-coded, caught all the rats and opened a burger bar!” Gino paused for a moment. “How is he, anyway?”

“Graeme? I don’t know. Haven’t seen him for a while.”

“No? He was in here a few days ago. A little bit confused, he was. I tried to call you, but that Doctor Zophiel came and collected him. I thought he’d be with you. He was in a bad way, rambling on about being on holiday with his mother.”

“That does sound like he was in a bad way!”

It was difficult to imagine Graeme having a mother. Or even having ever been a child, come to that.

“I’ll have pizza, please, loads of pepperoni. No chips.”

“Coming up!”

Daniel finished his pizza quickly. He wanted to get back to be there when Zophiel and Doctor Gottlieb interviewed Larry, who had been slowly weaned off his twenty-four hour sedation.

Apparently General Theakston was coming over. He wanted to be there too.

They were still waiting for the General when Daniel got back to the Medical Facility. Larry was sitting up in bed, Marcus stood at his side, taking his blood pressure.

“Sleeping Beauty is back in the land of the living, then?”

“Yes, he decided to honour us with his presence, haven’t you, Larry?”

Marcus patted the man’s shoulder as Zophiel pulled up a chair next to Doctor Gottlieb.

“My name’s Zophiel. How are you feeling?”

“A bit woozy.”

“You’ve been asleep a long time. We had to let you sleep for as long as possible, for your body and mind to heal themselves. Do you know where you are now?” Marcus asked.

Larry gazed around. “The Medical Facility. I’ve been here before, I think.”

“Do you remember how you came to be here?”

“No. Not really.” He peered at the badge on Marcus’s lapel, but his eyes wouldn’t quite focus. “Did I have an accident?”

“No, but you have been ill.”

“Why have I got this thing—this tube—in my arm?”

“You were unconscious for a while, so we had to feed you intravenously until you woke up.”

“How long was I unconscious?”

“A couple of weeks.”

“Goddammit! Will I still get paid?”

“I would think so. But it’s not up to us.”

“Could I have something to eat?”

“Not right now. You’d probably be sick if you tried to eat straight away. Perhaps a cup of soup tonight. Just to start with. We can take this tube out now, and you’ll start to feel hungry later on.”

“OK. But what happened to me?”

Doctor Gottlieb got up from where he was sitting and came over to him. “I’d like you to try to remember by yourself,” he said. “Give it a couple of days to see what comes back to you. If you don’t remember anything, I can help you with that. Don’t worry about it. Just relax and see what you remember naturally. I’ll come and see you later.”

Theakston didn’t arrive until it was almost the end of Daniel’s shift. And when he did arrive he was not a happy man.

“This is a fucking disaster! I can’t tell you much, but they—people back home—are withdrawing my funding,” he told Zophiel, completely ignoring Daniel. “The President wants to know exactly what I’m doing. The cheeky son of a whore! Who does he think he is? He’s not meant to actually do anything, for God’s sake. He’s just there for decoration on the fucking cake.” He waved his arms about as he spoke.

“It’s not asking much. He just moves his family into the White House for four years, his wife smiles a lot, talks about women’s healthcare, and they get a family dog. And from then on, he does as he’s told. It’s not difficult—a trained monkey could do it. He gets to meet interesting people, collects a few freebies, and when the four years are up, he moves out, writes his autobiography, and we start to break in a new president. That’s the way it’s always been.

“But this guy thinks he can tell the CIA what to do! He wants me to return back home and answer questions! That’s not how it happens. The whole fucking world is going crazy!”

He quickly glanced at Daniel, who was changing over shifts with Matthew.

“You should have come in with us, General,” Zophiel said. “The offer was there. If you’d been a bit more co-operative, you could have been going home in your best dress uniform, to pay your respects at a presidential funeral, not for a presidential enquiry.”

“I don’t need your bloody New World Order, I’m American, for Christ’s sake! The land of the free! Remember? We’ve fought wars to keep our independence.”

Theakston sat down on the nearest bed, his shoulders sagging, all military bearing was gone. It was as though someone had just let the air out of a balloon.

It was time for Daniel to go.

“See you in the morning, Matthew. Have a good night.”

They exchanged furtive glances as Daniel took off his white coat and left. Halfway down the corridor, he could hear Theakston saying, “Christ, Zophiel, what do I have to do? Help me out here! I’ll do anything you say.”

He sounded like a small boy caught stealing cookies.

Zophiel’s reply was cold. “I’m afraid you’ve left it a bit too late,” he said.

The next morning, Daniel and Matthew walked around and reviewed the patients before they changed shifts. All the induced coma patients on Ward 2 were being woken up gradually—it looked like the psychosis had run its course. And Jimmy Springer was still on Ward 3, lightly sedated, the only remaining patient.

“There’s a new patient for Ward 3,” Matthew said. “One of Doctor Gottlieb’s. Zophiel will tell you when to move him, though. He needs medication, and Gottlieb hasn’t written it up yet.”

“Where is he now?”

“In the Waiting Room.”

“The room next to the Quiet Room?”

“That’s it.”

“Isn’t the Quiet Room a sort of waiting room?” This was getting confusing!

“No. The Waiting Room is where they wait to go into the Quiet Room. The Quiet Room is called that because it has sound-proof walls.”

“Have you been in there?”

“Only in the Waiting Room. It’s weird!”

Daniel nodded. Best not to say any more.

“How long did General Theakston stay last night?”

“I’m not sure. He was still freaking out when they went into Zophiel’s office, and I didn’t see him leave.”

“When Samael gets here, can you send him in?” Zophiel asked Daniel after the shift change had been completed.

“Sure.”

“How’s the studying going?”

“Great. Everything just seems to fall into place at the moment, like I already knew most of it. I’m not complaining though.”

“Good. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Er—no thanks.”

Zophiel flashed him a grin.

“I mean proper coffee! I’ve got my own supply.”

Samael arrived at about ten.

“Zophiel’s in his office. He said for you to go straight in.”

“OK, Daniel, thanks.”

On his own again, Daniel got out his study materials and sat at the Medics’ Station, hoping there would be no more admissions.

Samael returned after about an hour and announced he was going to lunch.

“Is Zophiel still busy?”

Samael laughed. “Too right! I’ve just given him a new toy.”

“Ah!” There was no way Daniel was going to ask what it was.

Zophiel emerged about half an hour later, and he looked pretty pleased with himself.

“Daniel, would you go down to the Waiting Room and fetch the patient back here? Take a wheelchair down with you, but if you need to, bring him back on the trolley. Here’s the key card.”

“Sure.”

It was a good feeling, knowing that they were trusting him more.

He took a wheelchair from the corridor, and headed for the Waiting Room. The light came on as he opened the door.

“Jesus!”

Three walls were painted with strange psychedelic splurges of brilliant luminous colours, but the fourth! Bats! All shapes and sizes, flying against an angry black and purple sky.

I wouldn’t want to be in here with the DTs!

The patient was lying on a trolley in the middle of the room.

“You all right, mate? My name’s Daniel. I’ve come to take you back to the ward. Can you sit up?”

The patient struggled to pull himself upright, but fell back onto the trolley.

“No. As you were. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I’ll take you back on the trolley. OK? Now I’m going to strap you in.”

He leaned across to take hold of the strap, and saw the patient’s face for the first time. It was Graeme. There was heavy bruising around both eyes, but it wasn’t recent. It was already turning yellow in places.

“Right, here we go.”

He wheeled the trolley into the corridor, double-checked that the door was locked, and set off for Ward 1, where Zophiel was waiting for him.

“Here he is.”

Zophiel brought out a hypodermic syringe he’d already prepared, and injected something into Graeme’s arm, without writing anything on his notes.

“Right. Ward 3. I’ll come with you.”

“Ward 3? Jimmy Springer’s in there.”

Zophiel gave a funny little smile. “Exactly!”

They took Graeme to Ward 3, where a bored security man sat outside the door reading an e-book, and Zophiel helped Daniel transfer him into a bed opposite Jimmy’s. Jimmy was snoring softly.

For the first time, Daniel noticed that there was a shaved patch on the side of Graeme’s head. Five small, neat sutures held the wound together and it was already starting to heal.

“All right, then, Graeme? I’m going to leave you here to have a rest.”

Graeme seemed more alert now, but he didn’t attempt to speak.

“Right, Daniel, we’ll go to my office,” Zophiel said.

He’d never been in Zophiel’s office before, and he was surprised to see how big it was.

Zophiel sat down behind an over-sized highly polished wooden desk, and started fiddling with the PC. Behind him on the wall, a painting of some standing-stones in a desert caught Daniel’s eye. It seemed somehow familiar.

“Sit down,” Zophiel said. But it was an invitation, not an order. “Here we go.”

He turned the screen round so Daniel could see. It showed a view of Ward 3.

“Now, let’s get some sound. Samael set this up for me this morning, so I’m not quite sure how it works. Good, isn’t it? Now, how do I record? Ah! Got it. Right.”

Graeme and Jimmy Springer were both awake now.

“It’s all your fault! I got bloody beat up by Theakston’s Donalds because of you, you bastard!” Jimmy was shouting.

Zophiel and Daniel looked at each other.

“Donalds?” Zophiel looked puzzled.

“I thought he said ‘gorillas’.”

“Sorry? I got you beaten up?” Graeme was saying. “How did I do that? I don’t even know you. And who’s this Donald?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know who I am! All those Yanks, waiting for their booze rations! You took their money and ripped them off.”

“Rubbish!” Graeme tried to sit up, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I haven’t seen any Americans here. This is a family resort. Nobody gets beaten up here. My mother and I have been coming here for years.”

“I’ll switch it off for now. We can catch up with the recording when Anton’s here.” Zophiel turned to face Daniel. “I noticed you looking at Graeme’s incision earlier on. What were you thinking?”

“Er? Nice sutures.”

“Thank you. What else were you thinking?”

“I’ve seen an incision like that before somewhere. Deep brain stimulation?”

“Something like that. Would you like to assist next time?”

“I don’t think I’m qualified.”

“We make our own rules here. We’ll speak about it again. I think you’ll find you’re more qualified than you realise.”

Phew!

“So, do we know what’s been going on here yet? Like, with the psychosis?” Daniel asked.

“What I’m going to tell you now doesn’t leave this room, right?”

“Of course.”

“It seems Graeme has been supplying the Americans—General Theakston’s little private army—with illicit alcohol, and I think Jimmy Springer has been helping him to distribute it. I don’t know what the arrangement was between them, but they must have found a way to meet up. And Base Camp 2 is halfway, so Graeme got himself trained up to drive the rover and began bringing extra stuff over for Gino—or maybe just saying he was—and Jimmy just fakes another accident whenever he needs to meet him and collect the stuff.

“He’s been coming into the Medical Facility for years, any excuse to get out of work, or maybe when he was just bored, so nobody took any notice. Theakston always tried to cover up the fact that there was a problem with the alcohol—or that there even was any alcohol—so we had no idea what we were looking for.”

“But isn’t he…connected? The ‘old boys’ club?”

“No, not Theakston, but he’s working with Doctor Gottlieb, who is one of us, on a program to create what he calls Experimental Soldiers. The aim is to produce the most efficient, fearless soldier possible. They use a lot of growth hormone and bulking up products, the sort of things bodybuilders use. I don’t know what drugs Anton employs, but he’s worked on mind-control in the past, and we believe that the alcohol caused a bad reaction with the drugs he’s using.”

“That guy who attacked my mate Glenn, he was built like a brick shit-house, Glenn said.”

“Donald? Yes, a bit too much muscle there. ‘All brawn and no brain’, I think they say. I don’t know how he got down to the canteen without anybody missing him, but things do go wrong sometimes, unfortunately, especially when alcohol is added to the mixture. But he’s OK now. He’s been stabilised. It was just a mistake.”

“If they want to use our Medical Facility, they should at least be upfront about what they’re sending us.”

“It doesn’t always work like that. People are very protective about their research. And we don’t really co-operate that closely. We want to build a better world. Theakston just wants a better America. But it won’t work. The CIA is getting a lot of shit off the President.” He tutted and shook his head. “It’s a joke. The President’s got a four year contract, that’s all. He’ll spend the first two years rescinding everything the last president did, instead of doing what they voted him in for, and that means the masses will probably vote in a guy from the other party next time and it will all start over again. The President’s not there to change things. Not important things. He should leave that to those who wait quietly in the shadows.”

“So what’s going to happen to these two now, Jimmy and Graeme?”

“Jimmy will join Theakston’s program. He’s got enough aggression to make a useful soldier. Graeme’s always been a problem. He’s got a good brain, but that’s the problem. Nothing worse than the frustration that comes with intellect that can’t be employed. He’s been trouble from the start. Apparently, he tried to get Terry, the librarian involved in the illicit alcohol at one time, but Terry reported him. We might have to let him go.”

Daniel decided not to ask what that meant.

***

The next morning only Jimmy was on Ward 3.

“What have I missed?” Daniel asked Matthew as they swapped shifts.

“Doctor Gottlieb has had Graeme moved to the Private Suite. And Jimmy’s going to be here a couple of days longer—Samael’s men were a bit heavy handed.”

“What’s the Private Suite?”

“That’s what they call Doctor Gottlieb’s experimental wards. The unmarked area at the end of the tunnel, past the Quiet Room. I don’t know what he does there, and I don’t think I want to.”

“Oh. That’s what they call it.”

“They used to call it the Sanatorium, but Zophiel said that was taking the piss.”

“He’s all heart! So do we ever have to go down there?”

“Only if we’re specifically told to. It’s not part of our normal duties. Doctor Gottlieb is nothing to do with us, and it’s all top level classified stuff, anyway. Something they’re testing for the army, drugs or something. I don’t know exactly. When they want us to know, they’ll tell us. Doctor Gottlieb will sort him out if anyone can.”

“Who moved him down there?”

“Samael, I think. I went on my dinner break, and when I came back he’d been moved. It was on the Medics’ Station computer. By the way, he was asking for his bag. Any idea what might have happened to it? He seemed quite stressed about it.”

Daniel shrugged. “If he didn’t have it with him it might still be in his dormitory at Base Camp 1, waiting for him to come back.”

“No, he says he left it in the ‘restaurant’. That’s probably the canteen. But see if you can chase it up for him, will you?”

“What does it look like?”

“He didn’t say. Probably doesn’t even exist. He reckons his mother is going to write to her MP if it doesn’t turn up. It contains bottles of holy water, blessed by the Pope.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Seriously, though. He kept on about it all night right up until he was moved to the Private Suite.” Matthew suddenly grinned. “Of course, if you do find it, they might let you take it to him in person, and you’ll get to see inside.”

“Sod off! Did you write it up in his notes?”

“Yes, I said he was asking for it. There’s not a lot you can do on nightshift, when normal people are sleeping.”

“You mean there are some normal people here? I look forward to meeting them!”

“Sod off and get some sleep!”

He did ask Zophiel about the bag.

“There could be evidence in there,” Zophiel said. “The illicit alcohol. We could analyse it and prove the stuff it’s made from comes from the canteen. I’ll speak to Gino, and I’ll page Raphael and see if it’s still in Graeme’s old dormitory, and Roger can bring it over, though I don’t know how I’m going to explain a lunar Surface Roving Vehicle to a man who thinks he’s on holiday with his mother in Torquay!”

“He said something like that to me, too. Why does he think that, anyway?”

“He feels threatened, and his mind escapes to somewhere he felt safe in the past.”

“And how long will he stay there?”

“In Torquay? Until it’s safe to leave, I suppose.”

“In the Private Suite!”

Zophiel shrugged. “Who knows?”

It was Gino who found Graeme’s bag. He gave it to Daniel, not daring to breach the sanctity of the Medical Facility by delivering it himself. It was nothing to write home about. A light brown, badly scuffed, leather weekend-bag which had seen better days, quite a few of them by the look of it. Two padlocks secured it closed.

Zophiel pulled a face. “What’s this? A family heirloom? I’ll take it to him and see if it shuts him up,” he said, taking it off Daniel.

“Be careful with that! He reckons it contains holy water blessed by the Pope,” Daniel informed him.

A smile crept across Zophiel’s face. “Does it, indeed? Let’s have a look. Somebody fetch me a scalpel! It doesn’t need to be sterile.”

Daniel didn’t see Glenn in the canteen at lunchtime and for some reason, the library was closed and in darkness, so he hoped to see him in the evening.

“Has Glenn been in yet?” he asked Gino.

“No.”

Gino continued unloading stuff from the dishwasher. “I haven’t seen him since this morning.”

“I expect he’s busy.” He keyed Glenn’s number into his pager. It blinked a couple of times, then said ‘Unavailable’, in that unhelpful way that small machines have.

“Never mind. What have you got for us tonight?”

Daniel arrived at work as usual and was surprised to find both Michael and Samael were there already, in a huddle with Zophiel, and none of them looked happy. When he saw Daniel, Michael immediately stopped talking. Something was kicking off.

“It’s OK,” Zophiel said. “If there is a problem, Daniel will have to know sooner or later, anyway.”

Daniel paused. It might look a bit pushy if he went over and joined them. There was no sign of Matthew.

“Trouble?”

“We don’t know, but Samael has observed a craft in orbit around the Moon, and we weren’t expecting visitors,” Zophiel told him. “Sidney Goldblatt doesn’t know anything about it, either.”

“Perhaps it’s something to do with General Theakston.”

“He’s on his way over. Whoever they are, they haven’t announced themselves.”

“Oh. Look, I’ll go and find Matthew and do the change-over so he can get off, OK?”

“Thanks, Daniel.”

Matthew was on Ward 2, chatting and laughing with a couple of the American patients. It didn’t look as though he’d heard about the mysterious craft, so Daniel didn’t say anything.

“Not many left now,” Matthew laughed. “Get rid of these last few malingerers and we can have a day off.”

“I can’t wait to get back,” one of them said. “I could be missing really important stuff being over here. The world keeps on turning. World War III could have broken out, and I’m missing it.”

“Come on, Wilkie, don’t give me that crap. You know you’ll miss Gino’s cooking.”

They finished the ward rounds together. Only Jimmy Springer was still on Ward 3, and soon Matthew was heading for the canteen.

“I hear Gino’s doing scrambled eggs today!” he said, as he took off his white coat and said a laughing ‘Good night’ to Zophiel.

“Ask Glenn to buzz me if you see him,” Daniel called after him.

Matthew gave him the thumbs up. “See you tonight.”

By now, Marcus had joined them.

“You’ve got no ideas, then, Samael?”

Samael shook his head. “No visible identification on the craft. And they’re not attempting to make contact. I’m hoping Theakston knows something.”

But he didn’t. When General Theakston arrived, they all moved into Zophiel’s office.

“I’m going to have to leave you holding the fort, Daniel. There’s got to be somebody on the wards at all times. I’ll fill you in later.”

“No problem.”

Daniel sat down at the Medics’ Station and started reading through his study notes. Nothing was going into his brain, today. There were too many other things in there.

The meeting in Zophiel’s office adjourned after just under an hour. Roger arrived to take Michael, Marcus and Samael back to Base Camp 1, and General Theakston’s own driver took him back to Alpha Base.

Zophiel sat down next to Daniel at the Medics’ Station.

“We’re not a lot wiser, I’m afraid. Theakston has been having problems with his CIA bosses. They’re threatening to withdraw his funding until he returns to the States and makes a full disclosure of what he has been doing up till now.”

“I don’t understand this CIA business. Where does the President come in?” Daniel asked.

“It’s a CIA project, but it’s not official. The President knew nothing about it. Somehow he got to know about it and he’s not happy. So basically, the CIA are now hanging Theakston out to dry and saying it’s nothing to do with them. It would be a different story if his work had been officially approved. The President would probably be saying it was his idea in the first place.”

“But General Theakston’s only trying to keep his country safe. Why does the President object? More’s the point, how did the President find out?”

“We suspect it was Harry Kinsella.”

“Who’s he?”

“When Sidney Goldblatt invited the media to see Base Camp 1, one of the journalists was replaced at the last minute. Theakston thought the replacement, Harry Kinsella, was a CIA operative. While he was at the Mining Facility, he gave Roger the slip and disappeared. Said he got lost or something. Samael reckons he contacted somebody.”

“How does that affect us though? Mr Goldblatt has done everything open and by the book as far as I know.”

“I’m not sure how it will affect us,” Zophiel sighed. “Sidney has lived in the U.K. for years, but he is still an American citizen. So the CIA could have an interest in him.”

“So what happens now?”

“We wait. Nothing else we can do.”

“But what about this space shuttle or whatever it is that’s been spotted? Is it somebody coming to arrest General Theakston, is it another power? China, the Russians? Who?”

“We just don’t know. But Theakston’s a prat. He had an opportunity to work with our people, and he refused”

Then he laughed.

“I tested that holy water the Pope had blessed, by the way. It was 87% alcohol. And I never believed in the Holy Spirit! Somebody will need to tell Gabriel.”

Apart from the impromptu meeting in the morning, the day was pretty quiet, most of the psychosis patients were back to normal again once whatever it was had run its course. It made sense that Graeme’s illicit alcohol had had an adverse effect when mixed with whatever General Theakston was pumping into them, and no more cases were expected.

Matthew arrived slightly earlier than usual for his shift, but Zophiel didn’t fill him in with what was going on. Daniel just updated him on the patients, then headed for the library.

“Hello, can I help you?” The young man at the enquiry desk was all smiles.

“I was hoping to see my mate, Glenn.”

“I don’t know anything about him. I’m new. Sorry.”

Like I hadn’t noticed!

“How long did they say you’ll be here for?”

“They didn’t say.”

“But you’re staying here tonight?”

“Oh, yes. I had to bring my bag.”

Daniel glanced at his ID. “Thanks, Jamie.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No thanks.”

So, to the canteen.

Gino was cheerful as ever, but, no, he hadn’t seen Glenn. Not for a couple of days. Neither had anyone else.

Chapter 24

When Daniel arrived at the Medics’ Station, everybody seemed surprisingly cheerful.

“Good news!” Marcus said. “The craft which was in orbit around the Moon has not been seen on Samael’s screen for twelve hours. It’s either returned to where it came from, or crashed!”

“Or landed?”

“No, if someone had been coming here, they’d have been here by now.”

“Daniel, when you and Matthew have been round to see the patients,” Zophiel said, “would you disconnect any lines Graeme’s got and see if he wants a cup of coffee? He can have a light lunch later. He’s in Anton’s Private Suite. Matthew can show you where it is, then you can go back and make him comfortable after you’ve completed your reports.”

He took a key card out of the drawer and handed it to Daniel. They checked the few remaining patients, and Matthew led the way to the Private Suite.

“I’ll show you where he is now,” Matthew said, “then I’m off.”

“Don’t we do observations on him?”

“You can. I’m not cleared to go in there.”

“Oh? If you say so…” Somebody could have told me!

A red light over the door indicated that the room, and the one next to it, was occupied, and a security man sat outside. He looked up and nodded.

“Right, then, that’s me finished. Breakfast, then I’m for my bed!” Matthew said.

The security man stood up as Daniel opened the door.

“Do you need me to come in with you?” he asked.

“I don’t think so, he’s been kept sedated. But I’ll give you a shout if I need you.”

“OK. I’ll be here. I’ve seen what some of these people are capable of.”

“Thanks.”

Graeme was lying in bed staring into space. He didn’t look as though he was capable of much at all. He remained motionless while Daniel swabbed the back of his hand and removed the tube.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, Graeme?”

“I’d rather have tea.”

“Sorry, we only have coffee.”

Daniel glanced at the coffee machine in the corner by the door to the shower.

“Tell you what, Graeme, you go and have a shower and I’ll straighten up your bed.”

“Yes. I’d like that.”

“Have you got clean pyjamas?”

“Yes. In the cabinet by the bed,” he pointed with a shaking hand. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen my mother?”

“No, sorry. I can’t say I have.”

Daniel retrieved the pyjamas and waited for Graeme to rise unsteadily to his feet. He walked beside him to the bathroom, but once he was standing up, he didn’t need assistance. Daniel quickly straightened his sheet and duvet and plumped up his pillows. Something familiar caught his eye.

Folded neatly underneath one of the pillows was a gaudy luminous yellow woolly hat. He placed it on the cabinet and waited for Graeme to return from the shower.

“What’s this, Graeme?”

Graeme frowned.

“Do you know, I really haven’t a clue.” His voice faltered. “It’s certainly not mine. I wouldn’t be seen dead…in…that…sort of thing.”

“Would you like me to get rid of it for you?”

“Yes, please. My mother really wouldn’t like me to wear something like that.”

“You’re probably right.”

Daniel tucked the offending item in the pocket of his white coat and settled Graeme back in his bed.

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll see you later.”

“Thank you,” Graeme said. “What did you say your name was?”

When Daniel returned to Ward 1, there was a new patient. A man from the Mining Facility was standing by the Medics’ Station, clutching his bloodied hand.

“Just in time, Daniel!” Zophiel said. “This is Alistair O’Brien. Would you take him through and dress his hand?”

“No problem.”

Then he retrieved the yellow woolly hat from his pocket and placed it on the counter of the Medics’ Centre.

“Look what I found!”

“I hope you’re not thinking of wearing that!” Zophiel looked at it as though the very sight of it offended him. “Where did you get it? Present from a grateful patient who’s managed to get his sense of taste back?”

“No. It belonged to Billy—the young guy from Base Camp 1. The one who got killed. Glenn’s mate. He wore it all the time.”

Zophiel suddenly looked serious. “Where did you come by it?”

“In the Private Suite. Graeme had it under his pillow. But he insists he didn’t know how it got there.”

“I need to speak to Samael about this.”

As soon as he got a break, Daniel went to the library rather than the canteen. Terry was at the Reception desk.

“Hey, Terry! What are you doing over here? Where’s Glenn?”

“I think he’s at Base Camp 1.”

“What? At the old library?”

“No. Jamie, one of the new guys, is running that for now.”

“Jamie? He was here yesterday, wasn’t he? Did Michael ask for him back?”

Terry shook his head, a blank look on his face. “I don’t know, all I know is, Gabriel said I’d have to come over here and cover for him. Some men who had come to the end of their contracts went back home with the shuttle which brought the new people. So Gabriel could well have needed somebody with more experience. I know he thinks well of Glenn.”

“Any idea how long he’ll be away?”

Something didn’t feel quite right.

“No. You know what it’s like. They tell you the very minimum they can get away with.”

Too true!

Daniel leaned on the counter.

“What about you? Are you going back home as soon as everything’s sorted or staying on another year?”

“I don’t think I’ll be signing up again. I always wanted to be a journalist and I managed to make a couple of contacts when the visitors came.”

“Well done, you! It’s good to plan ahead.”

“I’m sure Glenn will be back soon. If I see him first, I’ll tell him you were asking about him. Have you tried paging him?”

“Yes. His pager’s switched off.”

“He’ll be back. It’s not like he can just walk out and get another job.”

Daniel forced a laugh. “You’re right. It seems weird, though.”

“Don’t worry about it. Weird is normal here!”

Daniel left the library and made his way to the canteen, where Gino made him a sandwich.

By the time Daniel returned to the ward, Samael was there again. That was unusual. Although he covered both Base Camp 1 and 2 as Head of Security, he spent most of his time at Base Camp 1, where his quarters were. But at least he didn’t look too worried.

“Problems?” There was a time when Daniel wouldn’t have asked Samael directly.

“One of the mining teams has broken through into a whole new series of tunnelling that nobody knew was there,” Samael said.

Zophiel took over the conversation. “They sent somebody in to see where the tunnels led, and they come all the way back here to Base Camp 2. They’re going to map them properly in the next couple of days, and see if Alpha Base joins up with it as well. So the good news is that if we are all joined up underground we can think about developing a subterranean transport system, instead of the outside system we have now. With proper ventilation, we won’t need to suit up and go outside if there’s an incident, and casualties can come to us for treatment without going up onto the surface.”

“Sounds good,” Daniel nodded. “It’ll be easier for Roger. And quicker, too, when we don’t have to go three miles out of our way because there’s a massive great crater across the road we want to take! And the bad news?”

“It’s not that simple—there are implications. General Theakston should be here about lunchtime to see one of his people. We need to discuss it with him,” Zophiel said.

Samael laughed. “Do we? Who says?”

“Don’t we?”

“He doesn’t discuss Alpha Base business with us, does he? I say we find out the extent of the tunnels, which I shall do this morning, and if they do connect with Alpha Base, we need to find out if he knows about them already. If he does, we demand to know why he didn’t tell us.”

“And you think he’s going to tell you? You have great faith in human nature!”

“No, but I have great faith in my techniques of persuasion.” Samael laughed again.

“You mean three days in the Quiet Room?”

“Of course not. We couldn’t do that. Somebody would miss him! I’ll check out if the tunnels connect to Base Camp Alpha first of all. That is in hand already. Then if they do, I need to send in a reconnaissance team to see if there is any sign of them being used recently.”

“OK, but what makes you think Alpha Base knows about them? If they did, Jimmy Springer would have used them to transport his liquor supplies.” Zophiel looked thoughtful.

“Too far to walk with that much to carry. But remember, the Americans were already here when Sidney Goldblatt arrived. They have had a long time to go exploring.”

“I know Sidney was contacted by the CIA—either just before, or soon after, he made his first flight. He’s still an American citizen, remember, although I understand that his father was a Brit, a friend of Marcus’s father in Oxford.”

“That explains a lot. But Base Camp 1 is entirely built on the surface.”

“Yes, and it works fine. The only reason Sidney decided to build Base Camp 2 underground has to be because the tunnels were already here. And how did he know that? He’s not a geologist and although the Moon is a lot smaller than the Earth, it would take one hell of a stroke of luck if he found them by chance.

“And another question for Theakston. One of his Experimentals attacked one of our men in the tunnels on his way to the canteen. A big man he said, built like a brick shit-house—I quote. Everybody blamed Donald Barnaby, who we had in here.”

“I remember Donald,” Daniel said. “He was in tears because I said he couldn’t have a puppy dog. I can’t see him attacking anybody.”

“That Donald was under sedation at the time Glenn was attacked, and his brain was fucked anyway. He couldn’t have found his own arse using a high-power torch and both hands, never mind getting to the canteen on his own.” Zophiel looked at Samael. “But it was on your surveillance tape. Remember, we thought Jimmy Springer said something about gorillas, didn’t we? We put him and Graeme together on Ward 3, that time. ‘One of Theakston’s Donalds’, it was. I asked Doctor Gottlieb. And he said it’s a project name. He’s been using growth hormones on his Experimentals for ages, and apparently, he calls them all ‘Donald’.

“How many more ‘Donalds’ has he got? One muscle-bound thug in combat gear looks very much like another. Right! As soon as he gets here he can answer some serious questions. That subject should never have been allowed out without supervision.”

Samael’s pager pinged.

“Is that him now?”

“No. It’s one of my team. The ‘spy in the sky’ is back! I need to get back to Base Camp 1. Is there a driver over here? I need to get back now.”

Zophiel sent a message that got an immediate response.

“The new man, Robbie, will see you in the Departure Lounge in ten minutes.”

Zophiel continued to rant—in his cultured, almost gentlemanly way—about General Theakston, and the problems he was responsible for, but Theakston never arrived to explain himself.

Halfway through the afternoon, Samael sent Zophiel a message that the ‘spy in the sky’ they had been tracking appeared to have landed near Base Camp Alpha.

“He’s probably bringing in new volunteers,” Zophiel suggested.

“No. It’s only a small shuttle.”

“Theakston must be shipping in his favourite whore!”

Daniel picked up his study notes and put them on the Medics’ Station counter, ready to sign out. Once Matthew arrived, they did the changeover round—nothing to report—and he was about to leave, when Doctor Gottlieb burst through the door, accompanied—a couple of yards behind him—by Alec, the American rover driver.

“Where’s Zoph?”

“In his office, I suppose. I haven’t seen him for a while. Is there a problem?”

He didn’t answer.

“Wait for me here,” Gottlieb told the driver. “Doctor Alexander will look after you.” And he was away in the direction of Zophiel’s office.

Doctor? I’ve got a long way to go before I’m that.

“You get off,” Matthew said. “I’ll look after him.”

Daniel didn’t argue. He headed for the canteen, where Gino was as chirpy as ever.

“You OK, mate? You seem a bit quiet.”

“Busy day, Gino. Busy day.”

He ate his meal in silence before trying yet again to contact Glenn. He checked out the library. Terry was still there.

“Still no word from Glenn?” Daniel asked.

“No. Haven’t you heard anything?”

“No.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll turn up. People don’t just disappear.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Trust me!”

Can you really trust anybody?

He made his way back to the dormitory, where the two orderlies were playing chess.

The next morning, Daniel could see that Zophiel was worried. As soon as Matthew had gone off duty, Zophiel told him.

“The CIA lifted General Theakston yesterday.”

“What?”

“It’s over. Alpha Base is finished. The CIA, NSA, they’re crawling all over Alpha Base. Those on General Theakston’s program are being pulled out on the next shuttle. And we must destroy all evidence of Doctor Gottlieb’s work at Base Camp 2. Everything must be removed from the computers. Samael’s sending a man over to do that now.”

A cold shudder crept down Daniel’s spine. “Aren’t there other tunnels? Can’t we move somewhere else?”

“There are probably other tunnels, but there isn’t time to find them.”

“But how are we going to get away?”

“The shuttle that brought the last new intake is still here, on the far side where it can’t be detected from Earth, and Sidney has another on the way, ETA in three days.”

“But what about a pilot?”

“Michael’s had the pilot from the big shuttle working in HR since it arrived. The other pilot went back with the media group, so he can be recalled. He’s probably on his way already.”

“So the big shuttle never went back?”

“Too expensive to send it back practically empty. They sent an eight-seater for the men who weren’t renewing their contracts and kept the big one here. Don’t worry. We’ll start again somewhere else.”

“Three days, and we’re leaving? It doesn’t seem possible. Theakston’s nothing to do with us. We’re legitimate…aren’t we?”

“It’s not that simple. Only Base Camp 1, and the Mining Facility, are supposed to be here. And as soon as Alpha Base is closed down, the Press will start arriving. If they don’t find the underground tunnels, they’ll see the SRV tracks on the surface leading here.”

***

Glenn sat up. He wasn’t in his dormitory, so where the hell was he? And why did he feel like he had a hangover?

The last thing he remembered was going with Marcus to the pharmacy for a blood test. They must have found out he’d stopped taking his tablets. Stupid to think he could get away with it, really. Nobody else did. Back to the question. Where was he?

It was a small room with white painted walls. He looked around. He had to turn his head, because just moving his eyes was painful. He was in a single bed in the centre of the room, and there was a small sink in the corner, very little else. He was wearing blue pyjamas which he didn’t own, and his mouth tasted like he’d been chewing a rancid skunk. He’d never felt like this after a blood test before.

As he tried to stand up he felt light-headed, and the floor felt kind of weird when he put his feet down on it. He looked round for a bell or something to call somebody, but there was none that he could see. He wobbled his way to the door and grasped the handle.

He should have known it would be locked. Back to the bed, then. He might as well go back to sleep.

It seemed like no time at all before he heard the door open, but time was like that, here.

“How are you feeling, Glenn?”

It was Marcus.

“Like shit, thanks.”

“Bit of a problem with your blood test, that’s all. You should be stable now, but I do need to take one last sample.”

He produced a hypodermic syringe as if from nowhere, deftly drew off some blood, then walked over to the sink and decanted the sample into a small glass bottle, before writing something on the label.

“I’ll see you in a short while. Do you fancy something to eat, because the canteen will be closing soon?”

“No. Thanks,” he said, before falling back to sleep.

He couldn’t be sure how long it was before Marcus returned, because his watch had been removed along with his clothes.

“You’ll be pleased to know you’ve passed,” Marcus said. “Your levels are OK now. I’ll get Matthew to bring your clothes and you can get dressed, and have a cup of coffee.”

“I’d rather have water—I’ve got tokens.”

“Not this time. You need the glucose. I’ll see you later.”

Marcus seemed tense and withdrawn this morning—if it was morning.

“If you say so. It’s bloody horrible stuff.”

Matthew arrived shortly after, struggling through the heavy door with a mug of coffee in one hand and a bag containing Glenn’s clothing in the other.

“Here you go! Drink it while it’s hot, it tastes even worse when it’s cold. There’s a shower through that door.” He pointed to a door Glenn hadn’t noticed. “I’ll come back and get you in about twenty minutes.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t go back to sleep—we’ve got to be somewhere. You’ve got stuff to do in the library, you and Terry, if you’re up to it. Base Camp 2 is closing down. Then you’re going back to Base Camp 1. For the rest of your contract.”

“Base Camp 2 closing down? I don’t understand.”

“The American base is closing down, too. Don’t worry—it’s not for ever. You’ll be all right. Michael says you’re a good worker.”

He sipped his coffee. It didn’t taste that bad. He ran the shower, testing it several times with his hand and watching the drops falling from his fingers, before stepping into the luxuriant warmth. It felt so good! Eventually he felt practically normal.

He dried himself and dressed.

Without really thinking about it, he put his hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a piece of paper.

‘Shylock’, it said, followed by a number. What was this? Shylock? Was it something he was supposed to look up for somebody? Well, It’s a bit late now!

He had no idea what it referred to.

Chapter 25

Samael didn’t bother to knock the door when he brought a small battered attaché case into Zophiel’s office, where they were all gathered. He put it down on Zophiel’s desk. Very carefully.

“Are you sure this will work?” Zophiel asked.

“Of course it will, you cheeky bugger! Blood, sweat and tears went into this, not to mention mercury fulminate.”

Gottlieb peered at it. “You could have gift-wrapped it!” he said.

Samael stroked the case as though it were a pet animal, running his index finger along the line of stitches, then he opened the lid, and gazed on the contents with the pride of a loving father.

“This baby will make Hiroshima look like somebody’s burned the toast. I’ve done my bit. Getting it to its destination is up to the good doctor.”

Daniel couldn’t see what it contained—but he didn’t need to.

“We tell Graeme it’s a present for his mother, and he’s got to take it to her,” Samael continued. “I’ve made him a present—it’s up to Anton to convince him that she’s here, waiting for it.”

“That won’t be a problem.” Doctor Gottlieb said. “Graeme’s very malleable now. But what about Gabriel? How does he feel about it?”

“He’s cool about everything. He realised Graeme was a long-term problem that couldn’t be resolved, and when he heard that he’d kept that murdered guy’s hat as a trophy, he didn’t even argue. Graeme Dane is now officially expendable.”

“Couldn’t it be detonated remotely?”

“It could… But it will give Graeme something to do. Has General Theakston left yet?”

“Yes, he left three hours ago,” Doctor Gottlieb said.

“How many did he take with him?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know who he’s left in charge, even. He’ll make sure the Experimentals are OK, though. He’s put a lot into that program. Got some amazing results, although I hate to admit it. With my help, of course. I just wish he’d have come in with us. We all want the same things for the planet, after all.”

“He’s an isolationist. He thinks America alone can save the world.”

“I’ve noticed! So, let’s get started. Has Graeme had his medication?”

“Yes. He’s in the Private Suite.”

“OK. I’ll have a word with him.” He pulled the key card from the pocket of his white coat. “It won’t take long, I’ve had him under before. Several times. He’s a good subject.”

“All right with you if Samael and I sit in?” Zophiel asked.

“Sure. Bring the present, Samael. And for Christ’s sake don’t drop it!” He turned to Daniel. “Do you want to come? You might learn something useful.”

“Me? Well, yes, if it’s OK.”

The four men walked down to the Private Suite, the corridor lights switching themselves on as they set off the sensors. Gottlieb opened the door.

“Hello, Graeme,” he said.

“Hello, Doctor Gottlieb. You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

He sat hunched up in the narrow bed which took pride of place in the bare white room. Gottlieb put a hand on Graeme’s shoulder while the other three leaned against the wall and watched.

Graeme seemed unaware of their presence.

“You gotta see this—the man’s a genius!” Zophiel whispered to Daniel. He sounded proud to have known him.

“No, Graeme, I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve never hurt you, have I? That’s why you trust me.” Gottlieb sat down on the chair already in place beside the bed. “We’re just going to have a little chat. Close your eyes and relax. Take a deep breath. And breathe out. And in. Now as you relax deeper and deeper, you will hear only my voice, and you will feel perfectly safe.”

Graeme sank back into his pillows.

“Do you remember telling me it’s your mother’s birthday soon?”

“Yes. That’s right. I did, didn’t I?”

“And you have a present for her?”

“Do I?”

“Yes. You told me about it.”

“Oh, right. Yes. That’s right. I’ve got a present for my mother.”

Doctor Gottlieb’s honeyed voice continued. “Is it this one, Graeme?”

He placed the attaché case on Graeme’s lap and Graeme opened his eyes.

“Yes.”

“It’s a beautiful present, isn’t it? Look at these pink satin ribbons, and the lilac and silver wrapping paper.”

Daniel watched in disbelief as a child-like smile lit up Graeme’s face, as he looked at the battered attaché case.

“Anton’s showing off, now!” Zophiel whispered.

“Pink satin ribbons.”

“Can you see them? Feel how soft they are.”

“Yes. It’s her favourite colour.”

Graeme’s hands made rapid movements just above the lid of the briefcase, as he felt the softness of the non-existent satin ribbons.

“Now, I’m going to look after your present, put it somewhere safe, where nobody can touch it. And tomorrow, I’ll come and see you again, and we’ll go on a little walk together and I’ll show you a short cut to your mother’s house, so you can take her the present for her birthday.”

“Thank you, Doctor Gottlieb.”

“Now, you need to save your energy for the journey to your mother’s house, I want you to go back to sleep. And when you wake up, you won’t remember anything about this room, or what has happened to you. But when we speak again, you will remember that you must take your mother a present.”

“That bastard’s good!” Samael whispered.

“I know. But for god’s sake, don’t tell him or he’ll be unbearable.”

Graeme’s hands slipped from the ‘present’, and he fell asleep immediately.

Gottlieb stood up and handed the case to Samael, then headed back to the ward, his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, walking slightly ahead of the other two.

“We need to have a talk, you and I,” he said. “There are things you need to know before everything here is put on hold.”

“OK.”

“I’ll be in the canteen when you’re free.”

“Are you going back to Base Camp 1?” Zophiel asked Samael.

“Yes. I need to make sure we don’t get any unexpected visitors. There’s no proper surveillance here.”

“And you, Anton?”

“I’ll be in the canteen until my driver’s ready to leave.”

Daniel looked around the empty wards. Only Graeme was left now. What was all this business about taking his mother a present?

“Where does Graeme’s mother live?”

Zophiel looked puzzled. “Graeme’s mother? She died a long time ago.” He, too, gazed around at the empty ward. “There’s nothing for you to do, you might as well take a break.”

Doctor Gottlieb was sitting alone in the canteen.

“Hello, Daniel. I’m glad you came. Shall we take a walk?”

He got up and Daniel followed him out through the door and back into the tunnels.

“I want to show you something. Something you might remember.”

They went past the Quiet Room, the Waiting Room and the Private Suite, where the lighting only came on when you activated it, and finally stopped at a door marked, ‘Members Only’,

“We won’t be disturbed in here.”

He stood back to let Daniel enter first.

It was a fairly small room, perhaps eleven or twelve feet across. The floor was tiled with alternate black and white tiles, and three rows of chairs faced a sort of platform, with a place for the speaker. On the wall at the back was an amazing mural of a group of standing-stones.

The picture was familiar. It was a monument somewhere in the States, but it had been destroyed. Behind the stones was a beautiful red sunset or sunrise. It was almost identical to the painting on the wall of Zophiel’s office. It meant something but he couldn’t quite remember what.

He turned to Doctor Gottlieb.

“I’ve seen this before.”

“Come and sit down.” He indicated to the seats in the back row. “This is where we meet—private and bug-free! So, tell me, what can you remember before you came here? What comes into your mind right now? Just relax and let your thoughts flow.”

Pictures swirled around his head like leaves in a hurricane and he couldn’t grab any single one of them.

“You remember being at medical school?”

“Yes. I think I remember that now. I always felt somehow all this stuff was familiar. And a man from MI5 tried to recruit me during my final term.”

“And after you graduated, you joined a medical team, volunteering in the Balkans. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.”

“That was later. What happened next?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I feel it’s something I’d rather forget.”

“You need to know everything now, while there is still time.”

“Can’t you help me remember?”

“I could. But it wouldn’t be your memories. Just say whatever comes into your head. Give yourself permission to remember?”

“Nothing, It’s just blank.”

“Do you remember a man called Milenkovic?”

“Luka Milenkovic? He offered me a research position, but I don’t remember where. I was working on something. Something to do with behaviour modification. For the president.”

“Not the American president, though.”

“I was arrested. They came in an unmarked car in the middle of the night. Where was my wife when they came?”

“There was no wife, Daniel.”

“But I remember her. She had long red hair.”

“No. There was no wife. You were a mess when we finally found you. Drinking far too much. We gave you new memories and a new identity, then the Red Cross brought you back to the UK.”

“What did I do wrong? I was in prison, wasn’t I?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Not really. Your work was a bit …controversial, I suppose. Some people would say it was illegal. It depends which side you were on. You just did what you were paid to do.

“But then there was a coup. When the government collapsed the pro-Western leader was replaced by a hard-line pro-Russian.”

“Somebody was after me. I remember that.”

“They sent an assassination team after you before we got you back to London. That’s why we had to bring you here.”

“This is crazy. It’s like a dream. How could I have forgotten all this? I don’t know what’s real and what’s not. Tell me my mind’s just playing tricks. Filling in the blanks.”

“Take your time, Doctor Alexander. You’re getting there.”

“Can’t we do this some other time?”

“There isn’t time. We’ve got to leave here tomorrow, and I need you to understand everything before we leave. Your work was important, you have a great future. Now is the time to reclaim it.”

“I don’t even know where I’m going when we get back home. I’ve got nowhere to go back to. Nowhere that really exists.”

“You’ll be OK. Your money’s already in your bank account, and Marcus will look after you until I get back. Then you can come and work with me. We always look after our own people.”

Work with, not for?

“What about my daughter? Tabitha.”

Doctor Gottlieb stood up. “There was no daughter. We invented her. It covered your ass if you said anything incriminating, and it impressed the Red Cross when we wanted them to feel sorry for you!.”

Daniel stared at him, mouth slightly ajar.

“Project Tabitha was what you had been working on, with Doctor Milenkovic. For some reason, we couldn’t erase the name from your mind, so we gave you a different memory for it. We made it the name of your daughter.

“And the only way we could get you to stop drinking and start working again was to give you something to live for. Like a chronically sick daughter with no medical insurance. So we gave you a new past and brought you here. Now, I have things to do before we leave. Are you feeling OK?”

“Can I stay here a while? I need to think. To try to remember.”

“Of course. Just close the door when you leave. It will lock itself automatically.” He patted Daniel’s shoulder. “Things will soon start to fall into place.”

***

“Suit up, quick as you can,” Marcus said. “Roger’s nearly full and Robbie isn’t back yet. This shuttle is leaving as soon as it’s full.”

Daniel fumbled with the cumbersome pressure suit, while Marcus, already suited, stood patiently holding his helmet.

“Where’s Glenn? and Zophiel? We can’t go without them!”

“Zophiel won’t leave until everyone else is accounted for. They’ll probably get away as soon as the other shuttle is full. Matthew’s boarded already, Terry’s onboard, too, and Glenn is at Base Camp 1 now. As you know, Base Camp 1 aren’t evacuating, they’re legit, like the Mineral Extraction Facility. They’re staying, too. Come on, move your arse.”

“You know, Marcus, I really don’t want to leave this place. It took me so long to understand why we’re here, and now that’s all going to be lost.”

“Don’t you believe it! Sidney Goldblatt won’t give up that easily. He’s probably bribing lawyers and paying off politicians as we speak. We’ll be back in no time. We always rise up again. Don’t worry, Daniel. You can stay with me. You’re one of us, after all.”

Roger stood the other side of the airlock, a silhouette against a backdrop of cold white stars. “All aboard who’s going aboard!” he shouted.

Daniel took one last look at the place he had learned to call home, and saw the people for the next shuttle getting suited up ready to leave. He could have sworn they were…No! That’s ridiculous!

Then, before he could comment on what he might—or might not—have seen, he spotted a suited figure hurrying out through the airlock.

“Daniel! I thought I was going to miss you. Here’s my address in Oxford. Go with Marcus. He’ll look after you until I get back.”

A fumbled but now meaningful handshake, and Anton Gottlieb pushed a business card into Daniel’s gloved hand.

“See you in a few days, brother,”

It was time to go. Daniel followed Marcus and Roger out through to the rover.

“I hope I don’t have to sit next to Graeme all the way back to Earth, even if we are sleeping most of the way.”

“Graeme won’t be leaving with us,” Marcus said. “He’s just got one last job to do.”

***

Marcus’s apartment was expensive looking, but in a minimalist sort of way. It kind of suited a man who was never home.

“Let’s have some proper coffee,” he said, as soon as he had switched off the alarm system and headed for the kitchen. “Then I’ll show you to your room, and you can settle yourself in. Anton will be back at the weekend.”

He glanced around, checking that everything was still OK. “My girlfriend has been looking in from time to time, and staying over at weekends. I suppose I’ll have to ask her to marry me, now I’m back.”

“You? Get married? I can’t imagine that.”

Marcus laughed. “Nor can I actually. It’s an outmoded tradition, but it looks good, and it does bestow tax benefits. Let’s take our coffee through to the lounge. Have you reset your watch yet?”

“No. I didn’t think about it.”

“Never mind. Let’s put the News Channel on. Find out what the world has been up to while we’ve been away.”

Daniel sat down on the couch, perched on the edge, still not quite relaxed.

“I’ve got a rather silly question to ask you.”

“Mm?”

“When we were leaving…Just before Anton came to say goodbye, I saw some… people…getting suited up in the Departure Lounge. This is going to sound stupid…but I could have sworn some of them were women!”

Marcus laughed out loud. “Well spotted!”

“But there weren’t any women…”

“You’ve just blown our best kept secret!”

“What do you mean?”

Marcus chuckled again. “The Gremlins. Those invisible little people who kept the place ticking over. They were all women! We needed people with experience of working in a large commercial hotel, or similar. And we just couldn’t find suitable men, so we thought, “Why not?”.

“Things would have got far too complicated if we let them socialise with the men, though, so it was in their contract. If any one of them is seen by the men, she is returned to Earth with no pay. And has to repay the cost of her transport both ways.”

Daniel didn’t know whether to laugh. So devious, but so effective!

Then they heard the television news presenter saying, “… and astronomers are still arguing about the nature of two seismic events, reported to have taken place on the moon, which were recorded three days ago.” Marcus turned up the volume. “Lunar scientists agreed last night that the events were unlikely to be volcanic in nature, as the moon has been inactive for about a billion years, although there could still be significant amounts of magma below the surface. The two events took place within half an hour of each other, and were reckoned to have occurred about twenty miles apart. As yet, there has been no explanation for what has been described.”

Marcus smiled, shaking his head slowly.

“Good old Graeme! He delivered his mother’s present, then. At least he finally did something right!”

“They’ve blown up Base Camp 1, as well!” Daniel gasped. “Play that again.”

Marcus paused the TV, then replayed the news item.

“Yes, it looks as though they have. Don’t worry, we can rebuild it somewhere else”

“Glenn was at Base Camp 1,” Daniel said.

“Yes, that was unfortunate. He’d been asking too many questions. He was becoming a bit of a liability.”

Daniel nodded. Marcus was probably right. Glenn was a good guy—they’d shared a lot of crazy things in the past—but in the scheme of things, one individual was not that important.

He turned to Marcus again as he sat back on the couch.

“I need to let Anton know we’re back,” he said. “I want to get started.”

About the Author

Reen Jones lives in South West Wales with two cats and an overdraft, where she writes tales of science fiction, paranormal, and conspiracy, encouraging readers to take a look into the dark side, and say, 'I wonder if . . .?'

After concentrating on short stories for a few years, she is now looking to write that fantastically successful novel which will enable her to fulfil her dream of retiring to the far side of the moon and opening a bar.

A Message from the Author

I hope you have enjoyed reading this book, and will consider leaving a review on Amazon. Thank you in advance.

The final book in the series is due out in the New Year.

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So when God doesn’t seem to be moving fast enough to bring about the Last Days, a plan is hatched to give him a helping hand—a plot which sets in motion something that might be impossible to stop.

Have you read the first book in the Men from the Shadows trilogy?

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