Anna In The Garden

36

36

The grey haired man sat behind a desk that Ken could believe had come all the way from the Earth-That-Was. Heavy, dark, thick grained wood that had seen better days, though still polished and shining. It wasn't the only anachronistic thing within the surprisingly small office. Filing cabinets filled one wall, old, battered metal cabinets that had squeaked as the man opened a drawer, removing a hard copy and dropping it upon the desk.

As he opened the hard copy file, flipping over pages, he reached an absent minded hand towards a box, made of similar wood, flipping open the lid and removing a cigarette. From one of his waistcoat pockets, he produced a book of matches, tearing off one, striking it and then using the flaring, flickering flame to light the cigarette. Shaking the match to douse the flame, the grey haired man dropped it onto a tray and then stared at Ken, the cigarette smoke wafting in front of his old, crows-feet marred eyes.

"See, this is the point where I ask questions and you refuse to answer, making snark filled comments and insulting me in some form or fashion." Leaning back, the grey haired man took a long drag of the cigarette. "We wrestle with words for a while and then you, cleverly, manage to trick me into giving the the game away. Telling you everything. That's not going to happen."

"It's not? Pity. I had some real zingers waiting about your clothing." Without asking, Ken took a cigarette. The grey haired man smiled, tossing her the book of matches. "So, what is going to happen?"

"I'm going to tell you everything you want to know and then send you back to Goodfellow Sector, safe and sound." Tapping the cigarette, the grey haired man allowed the ash to tumble next to the doused match on the tray. "Yes, this a genetic research facility. It may be on shaky moral grounds, but it's perfectly legal. Those creatures you found are our imperfect creations. Our attempts to combine human and alien DNA."

"Wait. You really are telling me all this? Why? Aren't you afraid I'll tell somebody? Everybody?" Ken took a drag of the cigarette and almost choked. It was real tobacco, not synthesised, the smoke raking down her throat. "Unless you're saying you'd release me was a lie?"

"It's not a lie. I'm not an evil super-villain from some media show. I'm far worse than that. I'm middle management." The grey haired man chuckled, taking another long drag of the cigarette. "I could have you arrested for trespass, but what's the point? By the time you get back to your Sector, Trace: Sinister will be searching for you anyway."

"If you're not evil, what the hell happened at Allure's?" She pressed the half-smoked cigarette into the tray, grimacing at the taste. "Because, if you ask me, that was pretty damned evil."

"That wasn't us. That was Trace: Sinister closing down an illegal media smuggling operation." The man waved the hand holding the cigarette in a vague fashion. "Yes, they found you because we found you, but it was only a coincidence. We share all our information with the central database as a matter of routine. We needed you alive and we all let out a sigh of relief when you turned up here, I can tell you."

Ken narrowed her eyes. None of this sounded anywhere near the truth. Yet, she had to admit, even with her skills, she found it a little too easy to get through the security of this place. Far too easy, if  she gave it a little thought. Even with the addition of Allure's cloak code, she and Kontessa should never have made it to Kitsune Sector at all.

"Okay. So, if all this is legal, above board, why all the secrecy? Why the fake Sector? Why the flying vehicle patrols? And why is Thought-Scape switch-blocked?" If the man was, indeed, telling the truth, he wouldn't mind answering those questions. "And who is Anna? Really?"

That name caused the grey haired man to pause, allowing the smoke from his diminishing cigarette to drift into the air. After a while, he looked to the ceiling of the office, pulling at his bottom lip as though questioning his next step. Leaning forward, he crushed his cigarette into the tray, alongside Ken's.