Wilde Card, page 45
“I’ll tell you another time.”
“Right.”
As he was wont to do, he flicked the TV on. They settled back to watch another rerun of their favourite show, falling into a comfortable silence. Some days they could sit like this, no talking necessary, and others they could spend hours just chatting away. She loved the freedom their friendship allowed her, the free reign over her thoughts. She could trust Kal with her deepest secrets. She could trust him with her life.
She was hit with an idea. She grabbed the remote and paused the show. He raised his eyebrows and his whole face went with it. He was about to protest but she beat him to it.
“Kal, how’s it going with Chloe?”
His expression softened at the mention of Chloe. “I like her. She’s...interesting,” he smiled. The action made his warm, brown eyes look bigger. He wasn’t so forthcoming when it came to Chloe, not like he was with Julie. Tia supposed even he knew that Julie was a pipe dream. He had been out with Chloe several times already and, apparently, they even hung out on campus. Other people were beginning to realise that she wasn't such a raging bitch - thanks to Kal - and she was much more agreeable now. Tia had seen that around the Tunnels for herself.
“I’m glad,” she twinkled. “So you’ll agree that you owe me one?”
He squinted, realisation dawning. “Owe you one...what?”
“I’m going to break into the Bloc. And you’re going to help.”
Kal’s skin became pale. He was the colour of warmth and then suddenly he wasn't. He had the courtesy to listen to her plan before he flat out refused. “Absolutely not.”
“Kal!”
“Kal nothing!” he shook his head. “You stole something that belongs to them and now you want me to spy on them so that you can get it back in?”
She narrowed her eyes. He was panicking and that was never a good sign. He was programmed to be a good boy; get good grades, be a nice person, pay his taxes. The idea of doing something this illegal was too much for his mind to comprehend. He was spinning circles, and she could practically see the cogs turning in his brain. She needed to give him a reason to break more laws. Quickly, she introduced him to Zeta’s existence and summarised everything that she had endured at the hands of the Bloc. Kal was saddened by the story but he was determined to avoid that kind of trouble; what he called Tia’s brand of trouble.
“Zeta is a human being. Doesn’t she deserve to live a human life and be happy?”
“I’ve never met Zeta. I’m sure Zeta doesn’t care about me either,” he floundered. “Why are you doing this? You’re going to get yourself killed!”
Tia sighed, irritated. She needed Kal to get a grip - he was the only person who could pull it off. She laid a hand on his burly arm. “I will be perfectly safe if you do your part.”
“Part? What part? I don’t have a part; I am refusing to do this.”
She simply raised her eyebrow. He was red in the face now. The sofa seemed doll-sized beneath his frame. She was scared that if he kept jumping around like a frightful child that he would break it. It was old and frayed but it held a lot of memories, most of them involving Andy. If he did break it, she would have no one to blame but herself.
She shrugged. “It’s fine. You don’t want to help, I respect that.”
He froze. “No. Nuh-uh. I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to manipulate me.”
She laughed and unpaused the TV. “I’m simply saying that I respect your decision. I don’t want to put you in danger too.” Or cause you to break my sofa.
A few minutes passed. She was actually starting to doze off when: “You’ll be in danger if I don’t do this?”
She nodded, her attention split between the screen and his question. “And Chloe.”
He glared, turning his big body to look at her with accusatory eyes. “I know what you’re doing, Tia.”
She sighed and gave up the act. “Please, Kal. I promise that you won’t have to do anything dangerous. I just need you to get into the building, ask some questions, do as much snooping as you can. You get to do it all under the guise of a cleaner. They won’t notice a thing.”
Kal had never been any good at refusing Tia. He claimed it was because of her eyes - the mischievous glint that drew people in. Tia knew that really it was because he was the brother she never had, and she was the sister he always wanted. If she needed something, he would provide. And he would provide now, the genteel rugby player she could always depend on. At the same time, she was wary. He had been the last connection she had in this world that wasn’t linked to the Rebellion in any way. Now he was sporting two new chains to tie him to the revolution and Tia had handed him both.
He smiled at her, one side of his mouth curling before the other. It was the sweetest part of him - his smile.
“You know I’ve got your back.”
Part Three:
The Wild Card
27 - Soft as Baby Fuzz
Kalvin Brown waved lazily at the security guard as he passed her booth. She waved back, smiling widely at him in a way that she didn’t for anyone else. It was her ‘boy it’s nice to see a friendly face right now’ smile, which meant that her supervisor had shouted at her today. Usually, he would skirt around the turnstiles to have a chat with her for a few moments - she only worked the booth twice a week in her rotation - but he was running late. He tapped his watch, pausing to shrug apologetically, and she waved him on. In only two weeks he had learned that her name was Carly, that she liked classical music and also the fact that he played rugby. She was attractive, in an interesting way, and made no secret of her favouritism. Of course, she thought he was 24, and he had done everything in his power to push certain truths. He had her wrapped around his thumb.
Letting his smile fade, he speed walked to the lower level of the bloc where he was buzzed into a corridor with motion sensor lighting. Often, even if you were moving around, they would flicker off anyway. There, he let his feet take him to the one room all the cleaners used as a staff room. It was big enough for the massive team employed by the bloc, with lockers lining the walls and a rectangular table propped up in the centre. Biscuits were scattered across its surface, littered with empty polystyrene cups and crisp packets. At this time of the day, Kalvin was alone. He crammed his bag into a locker and shrugged into his overalls, pure white with the Bloc insignia over the left breast pocket. He still had bitter memories of his first day - forced to wear hand me downs that were too small and too faded because of his size. He was the bulkiest member of the team and his overalls had taken a few days to arrive.
He hurried to grab his allocated tray, sloshing some bleach into the bucket. He clipped his ID onto the right breast pocket as he climbed the stairs back to the ground floor. He wasn’t worried about being late; Carly always filled in the timesheets and she wouldn’t even dream of clocking him in late. But he was worried about being off schedule. He hadn’t meant to be late, in fact he had tried very hard not to be, but Chloe had had other plans. He could still feel the imprint of her mouth flaming on his cheek.
It was Tuesday, which meant he was supposed to clean corridor D, like he did every Tuesday. This time, however, there would be a little more than cleaning. He had orders to follow this time.
Kalvin started at the very beginning of the corridor, sweeping debris into a corner where he could then collect it in a waste bag. The bloc used green bags for recycling, red ones for general waste, and yellow ones for confidentiality. There were a few things, in fact, that the bloc used for confidential. He took his time, making sure that he didn’t miss anything - his boss didn’t like to walk the halls and find a single speck of dust. A rather broad woman, she was fond of telling everyone that she had a reputation to maintain. It meant that he was very thorough where once he hadn’t spared a thought.
After he was comfortable with the state of the floor - and only after he double checked for dust - he mopped it, spreading warm soapy water from one end to the other. He was careful not to soak the floor - his boss didn’t like that either. And then, glancing over his shoulder, Kalvin pulled something small, dark and shiny out of the bucket. He shuffled the mop over and began to polish the glass reader beside the frame of the only door.
His original schedule had included corridor C, not D. After some beers and a ‘lad’s chat’ with Alfie Trent, he had managed to switch both his corridor and his times. He had evening classes and so he needed earlier shifts. Or so Alfie thought, anyway.
What the camera blinking away in the corner couldn’t see was Kalvin snapping an identical glass case over the reader. He moved away from the door, whistling under his breath, and picked up his bucket. And then, just like clockwork, the connecting door to the corridor opened and a woman’s heels rang off the highly polished floor.
“Morning, Dr Shah,” he smiled toothily. He was at his most charming when he showed his perfect, white teeth. Or so Chloe said.
Dr Shah, a middle-aged woman with short, cropped hair and a soft, lilting voice, turned her head only slightly to acknowledge him. Her dark eyes were darker today, her mouth pursed. She had an armful of folders clutched to her chest. “Morning, Kalvin. I’m sorry, I can’t chat today, I’m running late.”
Not by his time, she wasn’t. But she was obviously in a hurry. That was fine, suited him just fine. They had gotten into the habit of having a natter every morning, usually about her son who was struggling at school and wanted to become an artist. Kalvin was used to her brusque, no-bullshit tone. It was only the softness of her voice that told him her quarrel was not with him. He stood aside as she pressed her ID to the reader and the light turned green. As a gentleman would, he stepped forward and pulled the door open for her. She smiled gratefully before hurrying away and down the stairs. He paused to remove the glass cover from the reader - behind the cover of the door - slipping it into the pocket of his overalls, before he followed her.
As heavy as he was, he knew how to be quiet when it mattered. The door made no noise behind them and neither did he. The staircase was a narrow spiral with only luminescent strips along the banister to light the way. Once at the foot, he discovered that it was a lot darker downstairs than it was upstairs. He waited at the bottom until his eyes adjusted to the difference. Then he shifted his bucket so that it was in full view of anyone approaching him, and set off down the corridor. He knew what he was looking for and what he wasn’t looking for. He breezed past the open doors, leading into hospital-style rooms, and passed only two men in lab coats with their heads buried in files. They spared a glance for him, taking in his overalls, the bucket and his polite expression. They had no interest in him, because he wouldn't be down here if he wasn’t allowed, right?
He kept on moving. He didn’t like the smell of the corridor; strong disinfectant and something sickly sweet, something to hide. Whatever those doctors were up to, he would have bet his last pound that it was no good. After a few seconds, the smell faded into the background and he could only taste his own fear at the back of his throat. If he focused, he could feel the small army knife that he had tucked into his right boot. The knife that Chloe had given him before showing him how to use it the most effectively. In case of emergencies only. It was heavy and weighed down his foot. In case of emergencies only. The bloc was dangerous.
Not for the first time since he had woken up, Kalvin found himself wondering how he had allowed Tia to drag him into this. He was hiding weapons in his shoes...did it get worse than that for someone like him?
He came to a second door that required ID for access. Swallowing heavily, he looked over his shoulder as he pressed the object in his hand to the reader. Green light, open door, new corridor. The door closed firmly behind him with the smooth swoosh that could only come from an automatic hinge. The sound raised the hairs on the back of his neck and had him on high alert. He was under no illusions that the bloc couldn’t track him to this very corridor, and he was careful to keep his eyes wide and his ears even wider. Always prepare for the worst, Chloe had said, and that way you will never be caught off guard. At the time he hadn’t thought much of her two a penny philosophy, but he was making a hell of a lot of use of it now.
He was faced immediately with two rows of wooden doors, each helpfully labelled. He could hear several voices but nothing definitive that he could eavesdrop on. He let his eyes slide over plaque after plaque until he ran out of doors to read. There was nothing here that would suggest a storage facility apart from the cleaner’s cupboard. Or, well, wait. Cleaner’s cupboard? The bloc didn’t keep cleaner’s cupboards. All equipment was allocated for the sole purpose of allowing nothing to go missing that couldn’t be tracked back to someone. They were nothing if not efficient. So this cupboard...it was suspicious.
He tried the handle. It was cold, hard and locked - not that he was surprised. In his short time at the bloc, Kalvin had seen firsthand how seriously they took their security. He adjusted his grip on the bucket, looked over his shoulder again. From the small parcel taped inside the bucket, he brought out the last toy in his arsenal. It was a lock pick set, gifted to him by his one and only best friend. She had spent hours with him, coaching him, showing him the right things to do - and the wrong. He looped his arm through the handle of the bucket like a handbag in order to free his hand.
His heart in his mouth, he slid the tools into the keyhole of the door. It wasn’t an incredibly complicated lock, from what he could see. The bloc obviously hadn’t accounted for anyone getting this far but he could see from the architecture that it was an older part of the building that they hadn’t upgraded yet. Except for the door at the far end, which had - understandably - been a priority. He listened carefully, as he had practiced, wiggling the hook inside the keyhole, feeling for the ridges. He was sweating and his fingers were big and unwieldy. Eventually, when he thought his heart was on the verge of exploding, he heard the tell-tale click.
Sighing with relief, he pushed the door ajar and was surprised by what he saw. The room was a lot bigger than he had expected. It was dimly lit - and cold - but he could see that on one side of the wall was a long row of medicine cupboards. At the back, the entire wall appeared to be a fridge or a freezer based on the metallic shine of the doors. In the centre of the room was a hospital bed, completely incongruous with its surroundings. And in -
His understanding of what he was looking at was cut short. A voice rang out from behind him. “Kalvin?”
He swallowed heavily as his heart fell into his shoes and back up, but remained calm, sliding the lock picks down into the murky water. He turned, a vacant and mildly bored expression in place. Dr Shah stood behind him, confused, her brow deeply furrowed. He hoped the picks wouldn’t clack against each other; there was a cloth at the bottom that could prevent that.
“Hullo, Dr.”
“What are you doing?” Her voice was sharp and he was reminded with a jolt that she willingly worked for the bloc. She was nice, and she always made time to chat with him. But she worked for the most corrupt section of the government and Kalvin was slow to forget that. She shifted the folders in her arms. She must have come from one of the rooms in the corridor because he hadn’t heard her approach.
“I was looking for more cloths.”
The lie rolled off his tongue. It was easy when her brow was already loosening and the frown curled around her mouth was melting. She liked him, trusted him even. He felt guilty about that, even though it was an inane emotion.
“You won’t find them in there.” She reached around him with difficulty and pulled the door shut. She was so close to him that he could smell her perfume, but underneath that, the acrid scent of sweat. “You shouldn’t be down here.”
“But it said cleaner’s-”
“I know what it says,” she interrupted him. “How did you even get in there? It’s always locked.”
“I just turned the handle. It was open,” he shook his head. He feigned confusion too for good measure. “I’m sorry, have I done something wrong?”
She scanned him quickly, seeing the bucket in his hand and nothing else. She returned to his gaze, and her face softened. “No, of course not. I’m sorry, it’s a bit hectic around here right now. Urm, you’re not allowed down here, for future reference, okay? Despite what the door says.”
“Yeah, I mean - if I overstepped my boundaries, I’m really sorry. I just ran out of cloths and Barney hates being disturbed when he’s on lunch, you know?” He name dropped, relying on the fact that no one liked or approached Barney because he was prickly as a cactus. The ploy worked.
She smiled softly. “It’s okay, Kal, this time. Come, walk with me.”
He was so much taller than her that she had to tilt her head all the way back to make eye contact. He pulled the folders out of her grasp, ignoring her obligatory protests - he could hold in one hand what she had been struggling with in both. He walked alongside her, holding the door open and taking up the rear as they ascended the staircase. She chattered away beside him and he responded in turn, although in the back of his mind he was miles away.
Upstairs, and only after the door closed securely behind them, she thanked him for his help. She took back her files and disappeared ahead of him, obviously in a rush to get back to her work. Her heels tapped away, each impact a small stone in Kalvin’s craw. He was curious; was she going to inseminate another misguided woman, or to harvest eggs from another lab rat? Which would it be today; an inhumane crime or an inhumane crime?
But he continued his cleaning duties, emptying out the bucket and sliding all of his tools back into his pocket. Then he had lunch in the staff room with two young men he knew as Josh and Gillian. He laughed at their jokes and tried Gillian's mother’s houmous, shared his super smoothie with Josh - who was a health nut - and tried to just relax. It was all part of the job: his duty.
