Parador (Juggernaut #2)

Forty Nine

Malachi was dumped gracelessly into an office chair. It rolled a short distance, slowly turning. He tried to adjust his position but the wheels rolled too easily over the hard floor, so all he achieved was a slow clockwise spin. Fortunately, his cuffed wrists fit neatly into the space behind the small of his back, so at least he wasn't an uncomfortable prisoner. Just an undignified one.

He took a moment to look around the room while the two security guards whispered and gestured to each other by the door.

The office was not what Malachi would have described as a stimulating environment, unless you were a lover of black and white.

There was a lot of white. White walls, white floor, white lights. The only contrast was the black computer terminals, two chairs, one of which he now occupied, and the miscellaneous crud that collects in offices on every planet.

Even the noticeboard was white, but at least that was decorated in splashes of colour from yellow paper notes and a rota someone had completed in red and blue ink.

The guards were still whispering and pointing at him, like they were trying to decide what to do. Malachi knew he wasn't the one in charge of this situation, but he was beginning to suspect that neither were they.

Not that it mattered. He was still trapped, still separated from his friends, and still in big trouble.

The guards came to an agreement at last. One of them took the data chip from the other, drew up the second chair and sat down in front of Malachi.

'What's your name, son?'

'Malachi,' said Malachi.

'Malachi who?'

'Malachi Chambers.'

The guard nodded slowly, like this meant something to him.

Malachi was sceptical. They don't really know who I am, do they?

'Why were you breaking into this building tonight, Malachi Chambers? How did you get in here? Are you working for someone? One of the big five? Or a smaller player?'

'Who?'

'You here that? 'Who?' he says,' said the guard. His companion chuckled.

'You don't have to tell me, son. We're not going to beat it out of you, but we found you on Conway's floor, and you know what that means.'

'Um. I really don't.'

'It means his private security are on their way.'

Was that good news or bad? He settled on bad. It seemed a more likely outcome. 'You're not Conway's security?'

'We're building security. Conway has his own team to handle special infiltrations like yours.'

'I wasn't infiltrating. I was trying to get my data back.'

The sitting guard held the datachip at eye-level between them. 'You mean this?'

'I need that back.'

The standing guard stepped forward. 'Why? To go to Praxis? We saw what was on the screen when we found you. What's that got to do with Conway.'

'I don't know. That's what I want to find out. He's hiding something.'

Both guards laughed as one. This was hardly a revelation.

'Yeah, they all are. But why is he hiding it from you? He doesn't even know who you are.'

'I was here earlier today.'

'You hear that? He was scoping out the place.'

'We had a meeting with Conway.'

'We?' said the sitting guard.

The other guard said, 'We'd better call for backup if there's more of them.'

'There's no one else here. Just me,' sighed Malachi.

'That's what I would expect you to say. What makes you think I'm going to believe you?'

Malachi shrugged.

'We'll find them, either way,' the guard said to Malachi. He spun his chair around. 'Get the others back from their break, tell them we have a code six. And pass me that voice recorder. I'm going to make sure Conway's guys have a nice easy interrogation when they get here.'

'You know that won't make them go any easier on him.'

'Easier for me, I mean.'

The voice recorder was handed over, and the door closed behind the retreating guard. The seated guard turned Malachi's chair to face a desk and rested the voice recorder between them, and clicked it on.

'Now, from the beginning, repeat your name and we'll start with your meeting with Conway.'