gone. They never came near you before because she had your back, in more ways than one.’
I gulped. ‘Did they know her identity?’
‘I don’t think so ,’ Camille hastily replied. ‘Although, we may never know that for certain. She was careful but they may have had their suspicions… about why York of all places was protected. Then again, why would they have suspected a simple dressmaker… she had so many fooled, even you Seraph.’
‘Jesus, I know,’ I groaned, scrubbing my cheeks. I was embarrassed about being so ignorant on that one. ‘Anyway, what did she have over them? Why was she able to do this?!’
I needed to lash out so I did. I meant to swing a fist into a wooden column nearby but instead hit Camille’s open palm. I knew she could take it. She gently let go of my knuckles and raised herself to my height, looking me directly in the eye, unperturbed by my necessary release of anguish.
‘Codes. She had codes. I don’t know where they came from. But she had lock-out information, algorithms and sequences and the person who gave her them trusted only her, nobody else. That was her weapon. She had someone on the inside. She never told any of us how she got those codes, how she knew this contact. We do know Eve used the information to bring their comms down numerous times. She threatened them with total lockdown, and worse, if they didn’t cease building a centre of operations here. The treaty has held good for a number of years now.’
Light shone down on the bleak, murky abyss that was the dar k maze of my aunt’s life. Someone, somewhere, had been giving her these “codes”.
I felt like I was in a Cold War novel. Codes. Assassins. Spies. Underhanded tactics. People against people. Communication as power.
‘How bad is the rest of the country?’ I asked.
On my journey to York from Manchester, all I had seen were the poly-tunnel fields, train tracks and the insides of train stations.
Philip took something from the table, a pair of old-fashioned, Vizar goggles. ‘Put these on. This is footage of London taken only days ago.’
I slid the oversized glasses over my ears and pictures flashed before my eyes, as though I was walking in the footsteps of the person who had recorded these images.
There was only blackness. Heavy pollution. Huddled lanes of foot traffic. Murkiness. Grubby paths and buildings. Victorian almost.
Philip told me, ‘Everything you see is real. The streets are full. People fear the country side. London was hardest hit of course. There are countless stories of bodies lying undiscovered for days amongst the living. Such are our times.’
I ripped the goggles off and went toward the table. I clung onto the edge as I absorbed it all, hunched over as I took some deep breaths. It was no way to live never mind survive. We were all surviving but that was just… purgatorial.
‘You are privileged, Seraph. New York isn’t as badly off as other places,’ Philip began. ‘There, in their own domain, you are a trifle to them. A pastime. They keep their eyes on you for the fun of it. Their secrets are so tightly kept, they will not give them up. Amongst the relative wealth of New York, you appear to them as nothing more than a naïve investigator with a futile dictate. However, to us, you are something much more…’
I stood straight again. I looked around the room. I stared at their faces until recognition set in. I was known to them. Not just as Eve’s niece but as the one reporter a ctively chasing Officium’s secrets.
‘So many people here read your work, follow your progress. You give hope where there is none. It is a vile existence we face without Eve. Whatever can be done, will be done. You must not think yourself immune any longer.’
I shook my head. I tapped my lips with a forefinger. ‘My xGen contains information. I cannot tell you of its origin or its content… but it is the sort they would definitely want to keep under wraps. Small details that the director
I gulped. ‘Did they know her identity?’
‘I don’t think so ,’ Camille hastily replied. ‘Although, we may never know that for certain. She was careful but they may have had their suspicions… about why York of all places was protected. Then again, why would they have suspected a simple dressmaker… she had so many fooled, even you Seraph.’
‘Jesus, I know,’ I groaned, scrubbing my cheeks. I was embarrassed about being so ignorant on that one. ‘Anyway, what did she have over them? Why was she able to do this?!’
I needed to lash out so I did. I meant to swing a fist into a wooden column nearby but instead hit Camille’s open palm. I knew she could take it. She gently let go of my knuckles and raised herself to my height, looking me directly in the eye, unperturbed by my necessary release of anguish.
‘Codes. She had codes. I don’t know where they came from. But she had lock-out information, algorithms and sequences and the person who gave her them trusted only her, nobody else. That was her weapon. She had someone on the inside. She never told any of us how she got those codes, how she knew this contact. We do know Eve used the information to bring their comms down numerous times. She threatened them with total lockdown, and worse, if they didn’t cease building a centre of operations here. The treaty has held good for a number of years now.’
Light shone down on the bleak, murky abyss that was the dar k maze of my aunt’s life. Someone, somewhere, had been giving her these “codes”.
I felt like I was in a Cold War novel. Codes. Assassins. Spies. Underhanded tactics. People against people. Communication as power.
‘How bad is the rest of the country?’ I asked.
On my journey to York from Manchester, all I had seen were the poly-tunnel fields, train tracks and the insides of train stations.
Philip took something from the table, a pair of old-fashioned, Vizar goggles. ‘Put these on. This is footage of London taken only days ago.’
I slid the oversized glasses over my ears and pictures flashed before my eyes, as though I was walking in the footsteps of the person who had recorded these images.
There was only blackness. Heavy pollution. Huddled lanes of foot traffic. Murkiness. Grubby paths and buildings. Victorian almost.
Philip told me, ‘Everything you see is real. The streets are full. People fear the country side. London was hardest hit of course. There are countless stories of bodies lying undiscovered for days amongst the living. Such are our times.’
I ripped the goggles off and went toward the table. I clung onto the edge as I absorbed it all, hunched over as I took some deep breaths. It was no way to live never mind survive. We were all surviving but that was just… purgatorial.
‘You are privileged, Seraph. New York isn’t as badly off as other places,’ Philip began. ‘There, in their own domain, you are a trifle to them. A pastime. They keep their eyes on you for the fun of it. Their secrets are so tightly kept, they will not give them up. Amongst the relative wealth of New York, you appear to them as nothing more than a naïve investigator with a futile dictate. However, to us, you are something much more…’
I stood straight again. I looked around the room. I stared at their faces until recognition set in. I was known to them. Not just as Eve’s niece but as the one reporter a ctively chasing Officium’s secrets.
‘So many people here read your work, follow your progress. You give hope where there is none. It is a vile existence we face without Eve. Whatever can be done, will be done. You must not think yourself immune any longer.’
I shook my head. I tapped my lips with a forefinger. ‘My xGen contains information. I cannot tell you of its origin or its content… but it is the sort they would definitely want to keep under wraps. Small details that the director
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