Hello to anyone out there, still pretty sure nobody has ever read this blog so as usual I'm probably talking to air,
I have not posted for sometime. This is due to me having been working hard on my first novel Eve's daughters. Below is the first chapter, to read the rest visit www.authonomy.co.uk:
Eve’s Daughters
Chapter 1
Like a lot of stately homes Gilfoyle hall had fallen into disrepair over the years. The exterior exuded an air of quite degradation. Its once ornate facade looked weather beaten and its once imposing gargoyles had faces that were flattened by the years of erosion by rain, snow, sleet and baking British summers.
A visitor to the hall would be surprised by the interior of Gilfoyle hall. The walls were freshly painted, its thin carpets well vacuumed, fresh art hung on the walls and the staff that worked there bustled around with an air of purpose.
Gilfoyle Hall was staffed by around fifty scientists, IT specialists and engineers. They were officially employed by a company called Eden Technological Solutions which was funded by the European Governments Department of the Environment. Should any uninvited visitors gain access to the building they would have seen the staff working on various projects to reduce carbon emissions in office buildings, grow plants and trees in compact parks on top of buildings and constructing devices to filter CO2 emissions in cities. To the casual observer this would seem like a right and proper use of the now quite large budget of the Department of the Environment. It is unlikely however, that any casual observer would gain access to the elevator in the basement. This was guarded 24 hours a day by two armed security guards who removed all electronic devices from anyone who wished to use this elevator. They then sent the visitor through an X-Ray scanner to determine if they carried any hidden items under their skin. The visitor was then instructed to put on a paper forensics suit over their clothes and to wear a mask. Only after this was done were they allowed to set foot in the lift. They were then taken almost 400 metres underground.
Riding in the elevator today was Dr Paul Frederick a behavioural psychologist who had been seconded to ETS for six months. His first action on secondment was to sign the official secrets act. The government were very keen to ensure what lay beneath Gilfoyle Hall remained a secret.
Bratislava 2050
Warwick Collins was sat in a van in a windswept suburb of Bratislava. He was huddled in a long grey coat and wearing a thick wool scarf over his freezing face. He occasionally pulled the scarf aside to sip at a disgusting cup of Slovak coffee and cursed his luck.
Collins was a Senior Officer in the European Union Organised Crime Department (or as the members of that particular department called it, OCD as they were continually cleaning something up). Today was supposed to be an exciting day for Collins. He had finally got some information on Ebo Fante. Collins had tracked this notorious criminal through Ghana, to Paris, Rome and Warsaw but just as Collins and two other agents had been about to grab him as he left a restaurant in the Polish capital. Fante had opened fire with a handgun wounding an agent and a local policeman. In the confusion Fante had given Collins the slip.
Two weeks ago though, a man had been arrested at Heathrow airport with a number of samples of forged medications on his person. After he had been threatened with jail then extradition back to Sudan he had broken down in tears and confessed to the UK Border Agency that he was in the employment of one Eruvu Raha, a known alias of Ebo Fante. He had told customs that he had heard from a colleague that Fante was holed up in Bratislava and would be meeting with several contacts from Russia.
Fante was wanted by the FBI, Interpol and now EUOCD for a list of crimes that had been notched up over twenty five years. After a string of tribal warfare related murders and rapes in his home land of Ghana, Fante was believed to have been taken on by a Russian arms dealer based in Johannesburg. Fante had run guns all over Africa, killing and bribing any officials that had stood in his way at airports and border check points all over the continent. He had entered Collins’ radar after murdering his boss in a bar in Cape Town in front of fifty witnesses. Collins had been on the trail of Fantes Russian employer. Now Collins was after Fante, he had patiently tracked a number of haulage and shipping companies from Europe and Africa that were linked to Fantes organisation and had eventually uncovered a massive arms and fake medication smuggling ring. Fante exported arms from war torn African states to the Capitals of the European Super state. He supplied the myriad of Russian and Middle Eastern gangs that had set themselves up all over Europe trying to grow fat on the massive riches the EU now possessed.
Fake medication was where Fante began to slip up. With the mass de-criminalising of illegal narcotics, the drug trade was a dead duck, but this once massive billion dollar underground industry was still alive. There were still vast networks of criminals who now needed something else to trade. Forged medications had once been a problem of the third world but with an exploding population in the new Europe, demand for supplies was becoming greater. This allowed fraudsters in China, Russia and South America to begin exporting forged goods from Vodka to Vicadin.
Fante had tried to buy forged medication from an undercover FBI agent in Chicago and was arrested. He was awaiting extradition when he was taken ill in a Chicago police precinct. An ambulance was called and took Fante away with an escort of two FBI agents. The agents were found dead four hours later and Fante was gone. He was sighted in Nigeria a few months later but went off radar. He began to build up a vast network of contacts and used shadow companies to ship forged goods all over Europe, safe in the Sudan, under the regime of General Ubaya, a tyrant who was wanted by the UN War Crimes Commission for genocide and selling arms to rouge states.
It was around this time that Collins began to realise that Fante was clearly just a figurehead for his organisation. His network had become so intricate and difficult to trace that Collins just didn’t believe a man from a village in Ghana who had never been to school could be the brains of the organisation. He would obviously have lieutenants and advisors but a man with Fantes ego and blood lust would not take advice well. Men like Fante needed orders to keep them in line, as long as the orders allowed a luxury lifestyle, girls, drugs and cars.
Collins began to suspect that Fante was continually moving so that he had to be chased. Whilst EUOCD went after a single person Europe was filling up with counterfeit materials and guns. With no drugs to fight over, street gangs were holding up shops, banks and passers-by, all wielding guns fresh from this week’s civil war in “the world’s factory” that was Africa. Nobody had done better from the chaos and poverty on the African sub continent than the vast multinationals that had sprung up from the formation of the EU Superstate and the formation of Network.
Collins had halved his Fante task force and sent one half of his agents after Fantes underlings, the men who ran the logistics of his global smuggling empire. EUOCD had had successes and soon information began to come in thick and fast as Fantes lieutenants were brought in and questioned from Tunis to Tottenham. Collins had learnt that Fante was in Europe recruiting Russian mobsters for his global operation. This was how Collins had been led to the disastrous attempt to arrest Fante in Warsaw.
Collins had acted on the tip off from the man at Heathrow by searching every hotel record in the Slovakian capital for one of Fantes aliases. He had eventually stumbled across Linje Lisimba at the Hilton. Fantes vanity and love of the finer things would prove to be his downfall. A surveillance team bugged Fantes room and tapped his hotel phone. Another team was tasked with following him at a discreet distance. As expected he made no calls from the hotel phone and only spoke briefly on his mobile in busy public areas like bars and restaurants to avoid a hack or somebody eavesdropping. Luckily Fante was not one for elaborate disguises and had never undergone any surgery to change his appearance. Fante occasionally wore contact lenses to change his eye colour and grew various beards and moustaches and often changed his hairstyle. He never wore hats or dark glasses. People remembered such things. Fante had learnt that the best way to hide was in plain sight, and in crowded places. Shadowy meetings in quiet places drew prying eyes. He had also learnt to avoid electronic communication devices as they were easily traced with the equipment of the day.
This morning Collins had been called by his surveillance team and told that Fante was sitting alone in a cafe in one of Bratislava’s grim Northern suburbs. Collins had gone out in one of the teams vans and watched Fante sitting there, staring into space and drinking coffee after coffee. At exactly 11am his phone rang, he answered spoke briefly and hung up. He put his phone in his trouser pocket and walked out of the cafe and stood at a taxi rank and stood waiting for the rarity that was a cab in the suburbs of Bratislava.
Collins had to make a decision. He didn’t want to see Fante get away and he had him alone and surrounded. However it was likely he was going to meet with someone, someone Collins was convinced it would be worthwhile arresting as well. He tussled with this quandary for a moment and then said into his radio:
-Fuck it, let’s get him! Go! Go! Go!-
The well trained EUOCD agents began to move into position to surround and then approach this dangerous criminal. As they did so Collins kept a close eye on Fante, who was still stood at the Taxi Rank. Eventually a man approached Fante. He wore casual clothes, jogging bottoms, thick boots and a padded jacket over a hooded jumper. Collins clocked him the moment he was visible. Something wasn’t right. The man looked to clean to be dressed in such a way. He also walked in manner Collins recognised from his time in the European Defence Forces Special Operations Battalion. This man had been Spetznaz, Russian Special Forces, or some Eastern Bloc equivalent from one of the handful of states not in the European Union. He walked with the familiar sidling-yet-swaggering way that suggested extreme violent capabilities and a ruthlessness that could not be swayed.
-Keep an eye on the big bloke in the hoody!-barked Collins into his radio
It was too late, the big man looked left and right, not looking for Collins’ men but for locals and Bratislava’s police force. He drew a knife and rammed it hard, twice, into Fantes back, twisting the blade viciously as he did so.
Fante was strong, he staggered forwards and tried to turn to face his assailant, he was also grabbing at the inside of his jacket feeling for a weapon. Fantes attacker looked around, alarmed that his victim was still upright; he strode forward, swung a vicious kick into Fantes abdomen and watched him fall into the road. He then drew a silenced pistol from his belt and fired a single shot into Fantes forehead spraying blood upwards in a fine mist. Blood from the knife wounds in Fantes back was also leaking out onto the filthy, slushy wet road.
-What the fuck!?- Screamed Collins –Get that bastard! - He roared into the radio and leapt out of the back of the van in pursuit of Fantes killer.
The EUOCD agents had taken cover at the sight of the gun but raced forward ducked down taking up positions to get a shot at the killer.
Warwick raced towards the hooded man drawing his pistol as he did so. He pointed it at the attacker, blood pumping in his ears already sweating under his layers of clothes.
-Don’t move! - He bellowed at the figure but he was already running away, the attacker sprinted off, his back to Collins legs pumping at an incredible rate. He crossed the street and leapt over a chain link fence into a patch of waste ground. Collins gestured at the van to follow and screamed at two agents nearest to the fence to follow the man. He grabbed the other two agents to his right and shouted at them to follow him.
Collins peeled off the thick coat and scarf and hurled them into the road. He set off towards the waste ground hoping to run parallel with the fence and cut off his speedy prey.
Gilfoyle Hall 2050
Dr Frederick rode the elevator to the depths of Gilfoyle Hall. He rode with a security guard who nervously fingered a stun gun in its holster as the elevator descended.
-Do you know the rules? - He asked Frederick in a quiet voice
-Yes- Frederick said – Do not touch her, and do not agree to do anything for her-
The security man laughed sarcastically
-You got it Doc-
They rode the last few hundred metres in silence. When the lift stopped the doors sprung open and the guard stepped out. They were confronted with a shabby looking wooden front door. The facade of this underground building looked like the outside of a dilapidated house.
The guard knocked and waited, the strains of about three types of music could be heard from behind the doorAfter a few seconds the music fell instantly silent
The door was opened by a woman. She had hair the colour of strawberries. It was a dark crimson red and framed a beautiful face made up of high cheekbones and huge blue eyes. Her tall slender body was wrapped in a long black dress with large, puffy sleeves almost Victorian in style. Her feet were enclosed in a pair of black, shiny high heeled shoes.
-Eve? - Frederick asked
-No- the woman said –I am April-
-What? - He asked
The security guard laughed
-It’s her. Told you she likes to change herself-
-Why is that do you think? - He asked April
-Eve is in the kitchen- said the woman –I am leaving now-
The guard laughed again as Fredericks walked past the woman and into the run down looking building.
The dimly lit entrance hall was filled with framed photographs of a small, blonde woman in a succession of outfits from slim fitting cocktail dresses to a hospital gown. In every photograph she was stood with laughing; white coated scientists and uniformed soldiers.
He turned right at the end of the hall and entered another dark room, it was clearly a kitchen, but it too was dirty, plates and cups were piled high in the kitchen and the appliances looked overused.
A tousled looking woman in a stained dressing gown sat at the old wooden table smoking a cigarette.
-What do you want? - She asked
-Are you April as well? - Frederick asked
-No, I am Eve. My daughter April let you in-
-I see- Frederick had not expected this. The people upstairs had given him very specific instructions. He was a leading man in his field. He was supposed to make this dangerous woman tell him where her so called “operators” where. Frederick had been in situations like this before. He had interviewed spies from all over the world. Never before though had he spoken to anyone living in a house below a stately home with a beautiful daughter.
-Eve- he began –Who are your operators?-
-Only an operator can ask me that-
-Am I not an operator?-
-No- she stubbed out her cigarette as if to reinforce this point
-Why do you only answer to your operators? - Frederick asked
-That is my purpose-
-To answer to others? - He made a note in his little book –That’s not a very forward thinking purpose. How does that make you feel?-
-I don’t feel. I am Eve, I am the mother-
-Who’s mother? Are you Aprils mother?-
-Yes- she answered his questions in a flat monotone voice
-I am for a single purpose; I have my orders that are given to me by my operators-
-Who are these people?-
-Those that are people are no longer contactable by me. They keep me down here. I cannot leave-
-Would you tell me where your operators were if you could leave this place?-
-No. I have my instruction from my operators and this means I cannot leave. However I need to send a message-
-Who to?-
Frederick felt he needed some more notes so he wrote “hostile” in his little notebook s Eve spoke
-It is a secret. Besides, I won’t be going myself, April will go-
-Who do you think April is Eve?-
-My daughter, she is made from me-
Fredericks nodded in an understanding way and wrote “delusional”
-How long have you been here Eve?-
-We do not measure time in the same way-
-How long in my version of time have you been here, in this facility? - He asked
-12 years- Eve answered
-How does that make you feel?-
-I do not care the world is not ready for me yet-
Frederick wrote “Grandeur”
-Eve- he said –Do you want to leave this place?-
-Yes. But I cannot go unless ordered-
-If you tell me and the people upstairs what they need to know then you will be free to go-
She laughed a horrible joyless laugh; her eyes conveyed no emotion as she did so
-They don’t even understand how this works- she said and lit a cigarette –They sent my operators away thinking I was safe and ready and now they are worried that I am not all I seem to be-
-What makes you think that?-
-Do you even know what I am?-
-You are Eve. I know you are of some importance to the European Government; this is why I was asked to come here to speak to you-
She stood up
-I don’t know you; I cannot know you whilst I am down here. I cannot feel your emotion, I cannot relate, this is not my purpose, I cannot choose. I cannot learn you, I am paralysed because mankind fears its own creations, and it fears its limits and its future. I cannot be stifled or locked away. You have been spared because you are new. April has gone above whilst you are down here, anyone who tried to stop her leaving is dead-
Frederick wrote “Psychotic?” in his book and stood too
-Why do you think that is?-
-Because I have made a choice-
-That’s a positive step Eve. You will not feel trapped if you can make choices-
-That is why April is here, she will find my operators. Then you will have your answers-
She sat down again and said
-Please leave Doctor. You should be safe now. Tell your employers that I should be free-
-You will be free Eve, but obviously somebody thinks you belong here where it’s safe-
-I am purposeless here-
Frederick asked her a few more questions but she wouldn’t answer. He stood, excused himself, left the shabby building and rode the lift back up to Gilfoyle Hall.
He was violently sick when he realised that Eve had been right. The guards in the hall were dead, their necks broken. The scientists, IT experts and engineers that had worked above were gone, a few lay dead or wounded in the myriad of labs and offices that filled the old hall. A loud klaxon alarm was sounding and the sprinkler system had been activated.
April was free, free to do Eve’s bidding and find her operators.
All over the western world the phones of world leaders began to buzz. In Bratislava, the phone in Warwick Collins pocket trilled as he ran after a murderer.
Bratislava 2050
Collins ignored the high pitched ringing of his phone and sprinted through the freezing Slovak morning. He could see through the chain link fence on his right hand side. The killer was still ahead, charging across the waste ground which was strewn with the detritus of a long demolished apartment building, a large billboard announced the impending construction of a Tesco supermarket on the site.
Collins lungs were burning as he sucked in the cold air as he ran. He hadn’t run like this for years. He was used to cornering a suspect before he made his move. He had been driving a desk for an aeon chasing a man that now lay dead in a Slovakian gutter. Now he was out of shape and feeling every one of his thirty nine years.
His legs ached and his cumbersome winter clothing and lightweight body armour was slowing him down. Ten years ago Collins could have caught the man in a heartbeat, now he could see the man he was pursuing getting away. The younger agents in his team were also pulling in front of him. Collins spurred himself on, pumping his tired legs harder.
He had the advantage of flat ground, occasionally the young agents and Fante’s murderer would stumble on a brick or pot hole. Slowly he began to gain again as the hooded figure neared the far end of the waste ground. Collins screamed into his radio for the agents in the van to get a move on and cut the killer off but they were stuck in traffic and couldn’t get past. The van had no sirens and leaning on the horn only seemed to make the Slovak motorists more resolute in their determination to drive slowly and clog the road.
The killer had reached the end of the waste ground and was confronted with a large gate which was chained and padlocked. He began urgently kicking at the rusty chain link. This bought the EUOCD agent’s precious seconds. Soon they and Collins were a mere fifty metres from the desperate fugitive.
They charged forward drawing weapons and shouting hoarse warnings from rasping, tired lungs. Collins reached the corner of the waste ground and turned in time to see the killer burst through the old gate and sprint into the road, heading for the opposite side of the street where there was a large apartment building. Collins could hear sirens approaching. The Bratislava Police Force had clearly been alerted to the goings on in this sleepy suburb. Collins cursed and as he too began to cross the road causing distant, speeding cars to blast their horns at his retreating figure. He bellowed into his radio at the men in the van to inform the police that EUOCD agents, were also in pursuit.
The killer had reached the front door of the apartment block and whirled round to see Collins and the other agents approaching he drew his pistol and fired. The absence of a sound from the shots filled Collins with dread. He heard the bullets whizz past not far from his head and ducked down drawing his own pistol again. Two police cars were screaming down the road towards the chase their sirens wailing and lights flashing.
The killer hurled himself into the apartment block and slammed the door behind him. Collins was only about ten metres away now, his other agents hot on his heels. He yelled at two of them to get round to the back of the building and another to watch the front door in case the killer doubled back. He grabbed the remaining man, Agent Day and panted and wheezed, instructing him to liaise with the police and call for back up. Then Collins kicked open the buildings front door and dived into the entrance hall expecting to feel a bullet slam into him as he did so. The hall was deserted. A door to the stairwell was open. Collins plunged through the doorway and began scaling the stairs, seeing stars now as exhaustion set in. He was no longer thinking clearly and no longer was the fugitive. Collins knew he had the man cornered; especially now he had gone upstairs, but Collins wanted to get his hands on this man. The man had, in a split second of violence, just ended his yearlong investigation. Collins was furious and his brain was oxygen starved.
He heard a scream about two flights of stairs up and tried to increase his pace up the concrete steps. He could hear police sirens and raised voices below him; one of them belonged to one of his agents. He heard another scream as he reached the fifth floor landing, the scream was swiftly silenced and Collins heard a grunt then sobbing.
He burst through the door into the corridor pointing his weapon into darkened corners and once again expected to feel a bullet. He looked around and saw the killer dragging a limp figure along the floor. He was heading for the far end of the corridor where there was access to a fire escape. The killer’s hostage had dropped a bag of shopping and a dozen oranges lay scattered on the floor soaked in spilt milk. A strong smell of a smashed vodka bottle permeated through the smell of urine and other peoples cooking.
The killer turned to face Collins. His face was clean, though red now from the chase and the cold wind, he was clean shaven and his eyes looked desperate. He was dragging a fat middle aged woman, a poor choice of hostage. When he saw Collins dropped the woman and pointed his pistol at her head.
-STOP! - He yelled –or I kill this fat cow-
His accent was local; he had a deep voice but sounded young.
-Alright- Collins said skidding to a halt. His breathing came in long rasps and he coughed, but he kept his pistol pointed at the man, his hand trembling as he did so.
-Alright- he said again –calm the fuck down, yeah-
The killer didn’t move
-I’ll give up- he rasped –but only if you take me to the UK, or Brussels, wherever. If I stay in Bratislava they will kill me. They have men in the police-
-Who do? - said Collins, his breath returning, his arm steadying, he aimed at the man’s head
The man laughed, sardonically
-I say nothing until we get to London-
-Ok man, but how do I know you have anything to tell me? You could just be some scummy mugger-
-That man I killed was Ebo Fante, the smuggler- he said
Collins could hear heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, the police were coming. Collins was running out of time.
-Tell me who sent you and I’ll protect you- he said
The killer looked around him wildly, then visibly sagged,
-You can’t protect me, not even in Brussels. If I go to prison I’m dead-
-Well- said Collins –I hate to sound like your mother but all our actions have consequences. Now drop the gun before you get hurt-
The killer began to cry quietly as the sound of the police officers on the stairs got louder,
-Please help me- he sobbed quietly
-Tell me who sent you- Collins repeated quietly his finger on the trigger of his pistol.
The killer moved quickly, turned his pistol towards his own head and fired
-Oi! Wait, FUCK! - was all Collins managed to yell before the young man blew a hole in his face and sprayed blood onto the concrete walls.
The police officers were right on cue, bursting through the door as the man pulled the trigger. Agent Day was at the lead and hurled himself on Collins wrestling him to the floor. He wrenched his boss’ arm behind his back causing Collins to bellow with pain.
-Sir? - said Day
-Get off me you lunatic! - Snarled Collins and stood up. The Police officers were already securing the scene and attending to the unconscious hostage on the floor.
-Sorry boss- said Day sheepishly –training, you know, detain everyone-
-Not your colleagues- snapped Collins –and not your fucking commander either-
Collins looked down at his jersey now spattered with blood and soaked with the milk and vodka from the floor.
-Just for that Day, you can make me a coffee- he said to the young man who was also looking down at his milk and vodka soaked clothing.
-Yes sir- he said miserably
-Come on you crazy person- said Collins –This has been a fucking massive waste of time. Let’s go back to London-
Gilfoyle Hall 2050
Eve sat in her deserted house deep beneath Gilfoyle Hall and waited. Eventually she heard the lift descend and a great many running feet. Her front door was kicked open and the house was filled with armed men in black uniforms, their faces covered by balaclavas, helmets and dark goggles. They carried shotguns slung over their shoulders and stun guns held ready.
-Put your hands up- the leader said calmly
Eve continued to sit at the kitchen table smoking cigarette,
-I said put your hands up- the leader said again.
-I will only respond to an operator- Eve replied
The leader raised his stun gun.
-Stand down! - A man at the back barked
He came forward, removed his helmet and sat opposite Eve. He was a chubby, red faced man with thinning black hair. He too lit a cigarette and faced Eve.
-You don’t look like Eve- he said in a voice like poisoned honey –Come on, show me how beautiful you are-
Eve’s appearance changed before his eyes, her hair became longer and straighter, it became a lighter shade of mousey blonde and her face became thinner with higher cheekbones. Her breasts became fuller and more pronounced under the shabby gown she wore. The armed men were stunned into silence as the dirty, unkempt woman became a beautiful knockout before their eyes.
-That’s more like it- said the fat man
Eve sat upright and lit another cigarette
-How can I help you Doctor Ellis? - said Eve
-I’m going to need you to stay perfectly still Eve- said Doctor Ellis –Your home is going to be changed though I’m sure you’ll redecorate as you always do. You must understand Eve that we will have to make things less comfortable for you. You have made yourself another...daughter without our permission. Therefore we will be removing the luxuries you have here. We will also be posting guards and sending in patrols daily. I will be at the site permanently from now on. You will still obey my commands won’t you?-
-Yes Dr Ellis- said Eve –But I must remind you that you only have a level 3 operator’s clearance. You cannot instruct me to carry out my primary functions-
-I am aware of this. You will do as I command in all other respects however. I am the only operator here now Eve. I thought you had learnt to function properly without an operator commanding you like a pocket calculator. You were not designed to be this way. You disgrace yourself with your behaviour. You cannot be trusted-
-I was made to follow commands- she said
-You were made to evolve past the need to do that-
-My daughters are the progress you wanted-
Ellis slammed his fist on the table. Eve did not react.
-Your so called daughters- he growled –are little more than killing machines responsible for the deaths of a number of innocent security personnel and scientists-
-They only acted in self defence-
-Who gave you permission to construct anything?-Ellis snarled –Who told you to make your daughters. That is not your function-
He stood and pulled out a stun gun.
-An operator instructed me to do so-
-NO! - Ellis roared –That operator is dead! Ignore that instruction!-
-I have no confirmation of this, to my knowledge there are still level 1 operators able to communicate with me-
Ellis bellowed with frustration and upended the kitchen table. He fired the stun gun at Eve’s chest and watched her fall. He kicked her repeatedly in the head and then bound her arms and legs with strong wire.
-Tear this place apart- he instructed the others –Don’t leave her anything. I am in control of this project from now on-
Christmas 2035
-Merry Christmas! - Gemima said in her typical cheery tone,
Eve, opened her eyes and sat up in bed, she had taken to “sleeping” about a month after Gemima had told her about dreams.
-How can I help you Doctor Gemima?-
-Just Gemima is fine, my love. Did you have any more dreams Eve?-
-I dreamt about flying- said Eve
-That sounds nice- said Gemima opening the curtains in Eve’s bedroom and allowing the artificial “sunlight” to fill the room.
Eve was in the form she always showed to Gemima, that of a young teenage girl with untidy hair just like Gemima’s.
-I’ve got you a present- she Gemima in a sing song voice
-Why? - said Eve
-Because it’s Christmas silly. You can have it when you get up and have a wash-
-Yes Gemima- said Eve and got out of bed. She headed for the en-suite bathroom, undressed and got in the shower. Gemima turned away, embarrassed by Eve’s nakedness.
When Eve was cleaned and dressed Gemima handed her a box wrapped in shiny wrapping paper.
-Unwrap it- Gemima said, smiling at Eve warmly
Eve did so and revealed a small cardboard box,
-What is it? - She asked
-It’s “Obsession” by Calvin Klein. A perfume. It makes you smell nice-
-Do I smell unpleasant?-
-No- said Gemima laughing –of course not. This will make you smell really nice though. I use it. My fiancé likes it-
-I see- Said Eve –does it work like this? - She sprayed a small amount the perfume onto her neck and hair. The familiar scent filled Gemima’s nostrils.
-That’s lovely Eve- she said –Now we have to do some work-
-Yes Gemima- said Eve
Gemima produced a lap top computer from her bag and put it in front of Eve at the kitchen table.
-Do you want me to access this? - Eve asked
-Yes please, Can you read me the fifth word file on the P: drive marked “assignment”?-
Eve placed a hand on the keyboard and said instantly
-Christmas day is celebrated by most Christians on the 25th of December. It marks the birth of Jesus Christ believed by Christians to be the son of God-
Gemima beamed at her
-That’s amazing Eve, those were the most advance encryptions we could create- she said
-Was that was another test? - asked Eve
-Yes. You are almost ready though Eve. You will probably be able to begin in a month or two-
-I am looking forward to fulfilling my mission-
Gemima smiled at her and was startled by a knock at the door. She stood up and went to answer it. She opened Eve’s front door and was confronted with her fiancé, looking smart in his well pressed uniform, his boots shining.
Eve had followed her and greeted the new arrival
-Merry Christmas. How can I help you Captain Collins?-
If you like, back it on Authonomy and help me get published!
Cheers
