favourite restaurant in
Geneva.’ With that, Frederick left the control room.
There was an awkward silence. Frederick had left a void in
the room that Tom felt compelled to fill.
‘So, how are the tests going?’ Tom directed his question at
Deiter. Again, a pregnant pause, a second too long, like a bad comedian
misjudging his timing when delivering the punchline.
‘We have initiated the alignment sequence and everything
seems to be working perfectly.’ The voice breaking the silence didn’t come from
Deiter, but from an attractive, auburn-haired woman standing just to the left
of him.
Tom turned to face the person who had saved him from an
embarrassing situation. ‘And you are?’
‘Serena Mayer.’ This time, it was she who volunteered her
hand first and Tom shook it gently. As he looked at her, he couldn’t help but
notice her brilliant green eyes, almost feline.
‘And what is your speciality, Miss Mayer?’
‘Please call me Serena. I am the Director of Statistical
Analysis.’ She spoke with an accent Tom had difficulty identifying.
The group started to disband and drift back to their
workstations, leaving Deiter as her chaperone.
‘Perhaps, when I’ve settled in, we could go over the figures
from today’s test?’ Tom enquired.
She glanced furtively at Deiter.
‘I can provide you with all the information you require,’
Deiter interjected.
‘I’d prefer to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth,’ Tom
replied, emphatically.
‘As you wish,’ Deiter conceded.
‘I’ll catch up with you later then,’ Tom said, turning his
attention back to Serena. She nodded and left the two men to sort out their
differences.
CHAPTER 6
By late afternoon, the jetlag had kicked in and Tom’s head
was pounding. He had taken a couple of paracetamol earlier, but they had done
little to ease the pain behind his eyes. He excused himself from the meeting
that he had been invited to attend and made his way to his accommodation.
The apartment was in keeping with the minimalist ethos that
seemed to underlie the architect’s vision of a research facility. The beige
walls and fawn carpet reminded him of an inexpensive hotel room. The living
room had been appointed with the bare minimum amount of furniture required to
make its occupant feel comfortable, but not at home.
A large, square, orange sofa dominated the room, with a
small, imitation wood table and chair tucked into one of the corners. A laptop
computer sat on top of it, its screen open with the words, ‘Welcome to CERN,
Professor Halligan’ scrolling across the monitor in luminous green writing. The
opposite corner was filled by a TV, CD player and telephone on a matching
imitation wood unit.
The kitchen, with its patio doors leading out onto a
quadrangle, was functional and had been equipped with all the necessary
appliances, cutlery and crockery. The ‘theme’ continued into the bedroom and
consisted of a double bed, dressing table, wardrobe with full-length mirror and
two bedside cabinets on which stood nightlights. The en-suite bathroom was just
that.
Ajay had deposited his suitcases on the bed and had left a
note on top of one of them, which read, ‘I am in room 454, please come when
you want me to finish the stories’. Putting the note in his pocket, Tom
moved the suitcases onto the floor and lay down on the bed. As much as he
wanted to, he was far too tired to listen to Ajay’s narrative.
***
The distant sound of buzzing seemed to grow louder and
louder. At first, Tom couldn’t work out what it was or where he was, as he
groggily opened his eyes and saw the unfamiliar furniture. Then his brain
caught up and he realised he must have fallen asleep. The buzzer rang again,
longer this time. His brain told him it was the door bell and he must answer it
in order to silence the noise, but his body was having difficulty actioning the
request. It rang again. He managed to swing his legs off the bed and stand
Geneva.’ With that, Frederick left the control room.
There was an awkward silence. Frederick had left a void in
the room that Tom felt compelled to fill.
‘So, how are the tests going?’ Tom directed his question at
Deiter. Again, a pregnant pause, a second too long, like a bad comedian
misjudging his timing when delivering the punchline.
‘We have initiated the alignment sequence and everything
seems to be working perfectly.’ The voice breaking the silence didn’t come from
Deiter, but from an attractive, auburn-haired woman standing just to the left
of him.
Tom turned to face the person who had saved him from an
embarrassing situation. ‘And you are?’
‘Serena Mayer.’ This time, it was she who volunteered her
hand first and Tom shook it gently. As he looked at her, he couldn’t help but
notice her brilliant green eyes, almost feline.
‘And what is your speciality, Miss Mayer?’
‘Please call me Serena. I am the Director of Statistical
Analysis.’ She spoke with an accent Tom had difficulty identifying.
The group started to disband and drift back to their
workstations, leaving Deiter as her chaperone.
‘Perhaps, when I’ve settled in, we could go over the figures
from today’s test?’ Tom enquired.
She glanced furtively at Deiter.
‘I can provide you with all the information you require,’
Deiter interjected.
‘I’d prefer to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth,’ Tom
replied, emphatically.
‘As you wish,’ Deiter conceded.
‘I’ll catch up with you later then,’ Tom said, turning his
attention back to Serena. She nodded and left the two men to sort out their
differences.
CHAPTER 6
By late afternoon, the jetlag had kicked in and Tom’s head
was pounding. He had taken a couple of paracetamol earlier, but they had done
little to ease the pain behind his eyes. He excused himself from the meeting
that he had been invited to attend and made his way to his accommodation.
The apartment was in keeping with the minimalist ethos that
seemed to underlie the architect’s vision of a research facility. The beige
walls and fawn carpet reminded him of an inexpensive hotel room. The living
room had been appointed with the bare minimum amount of furniture required to
make its occupant feel comfortable, but not at home.
A large, square, orange sofa dominated the room, with a
small, imitation wood table and chair tucked into one of the corners. A laptop
computer sat on top of it, its screen open with the words, ‘Welcome to CERN,
Professor Halligan’ scrolling across the monitor in luminous green writing. The
opposite corner was filled by a TV, CD player and telephone on a matching
imitation wood unit.
The kitchen, with its patio doors leading out onto a
quadrangle, was functional and had been equipped with all the necessary
appliances, cutlery and crockery. The ‘theme’ continued into the bedroom and
consisted of a double bed, dressing table, wardrobe with full-length mirror and
two bedside cabinets on which stood nightlights. The en-suite bathroom was just
that.
Ajay had deposited his suitcases on the bed and had left a
note on top of one of them, which read, ‘I am in room 454, please come when
you want me to finish the stories’. Putting the note in his pocket, Tom
moved the suitcases onto the floor and lay down on the bed. As much as he
wanted to, he was far too tired to listen to Ajay’s narrative.
***
The distant sound of buzzing seemed to grow louder and
louder. At first, Tom couldn’t work out what it was or where he was, as he
groggily opened his eyes and saw the unfamiliar furniture. Then his brain
caught up and he realised he must have fallen asleep. The buzzer rang again,
longer this time. His brain told him it was the door bell and he must answer it
in order to silence the noise, but his body was having difficulty actioning the
request. It rang again. He managed to swing his legs off the bed and stand
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