Switchback

Chapter 6

The employee driveway that led to the Sands Foundation was long and winding. It started at a stone gatehouse, cut through the Arboretum and finished at a large paved parking lot.

The grounds were a spot of green amid grey. At the far end of a huge forest was the main structure. It was guitar shaped – the entrance and offices made up the body, a long glass hallway the neck and the elevator room the head. The rest was buried beneath the ground. This immense section housed the medical and recovery facilities. Since all of it was hidden from prying eyes it fueled gossip and speculation. Many believed much more went on inside than just HICOP procedures. They were wrong, but no one corrected them – rumours were good advertising.

Richard sped along the driveway, oblivious to his surroundings. What would have been a spectacle to most was nothing more than a passing glance for him. When he reached the parking lot he whipped the Ferrari into a spot by the door, killed the engine and hopped out - briefcase in hand.

Alex stood inside and smiled as Richard entered the enormous marble lobby. It was a busy place, with people moving in every direction.

"Good to see you Sobel," he said above the noise of the crowd.

"Same," Richard replied. He looked up at a huge four sided clock that hung from the ceiling. It read half past noon.

"Everything's in your locker," Alex said. They started toward an arched door to the left. "Have a quick look over the file before I meet you in briefing."

"What time is that?"

"One."

"Good enough."

Alex stopped but Richard continued through the arch. On the other side was a vast change room. There were a few men inside but the space was silent. Lockers with refrigerator sized doors ran the circumference. In the middle were hundreds of desks. Each had a chair pushed into the foot well and a lamp in the right corner. At the far end was a bank of elevators.

Richard strode to the door that had his Locum number stamped on it and placed his thumb on the reader. It swung open. Inside was a navy jumpsuit. He stripped and put this on, grabbed a white envelope from the top shelf and headed to a desk. Inside was a slim binder. On the cover was a sticker that read 'Charlie Nickle'.

With an expression of boredom on his usually smug face, he flipped open the cover and skimmed through the contents.

*

"Any questions?"

Richard stared across the desk at Alex. They were seated in one of the dressing rooms. On the surface between them was Nickle's file. "Not really."

Alex leaned back in his chair. "Seems pretty straight forward."

"You have doubts?"

"I'm just surprised the guy can afford the procedure."

"What's his job again?"

"It's in the file Richard! Top of the first page. Did you read any of it?"

Richard ignored the question. "Everything on him checked out a hundred percent?"

"We wouldn't be sitting here if it hadn't." Alex reached for the folder, pulled it toward him and opened the cover. "You've been at this long enough to know we run patient backgrounds at a forensic level. Most of them are fifty or sixty pages long. We know where this guy grew up, the places he's lived, his debt, his favorite food... A contract would never get validated if there was even a tiny red flag. From what we can tell the money was given to him by a relative."

"But you're not sure?"

"What the hell?! This isn't your first day. How can you not know this?"

"I have a lot more on my mind than reading fine print. That's your job."

"I'm just surprised this hasn't come up before."

"You've never questioned anyone's ability to pay!"

Alex sighed. "We can't track anything outside the client's bank account. The law won't allow it. We can see that it came in, just not where it came from. And before you ask, our systems are monitored at all times by City Security. They notice any irregularity. You can thank the Privacy Act for that."

"What if you went outside the system and hired a freelancer?"

"Impossible. A HICOP contract is signed electronically with a fingerprint. When this happens the name gets flagged. Mention of it in any search on any system gets reported."

"How about some old fashioned asking around?"

Alex stared at Richard. His expression was disbelief. "What's gotten into you?" he asked. "How many contracts have you done? Two hundred? The only risk has ever been complications from surgery – which is now almost nil. We've never lost a Locum to anything else. There are safeguards in place for every possibility."

"You're right." Richard took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'm just on edge. Sam freaked out when I told her about this, then Jack did the same."

Alex snorted. "Why do you still go see that crazy old man?"

"He's comfortable and safe. Like an old sweater. He's also family and never charges a cent."

"Do either know how much you make off this?"

"No. They're not like us. They don't seem to understand how important money is today. Both think it's risky because I finished a contract last week."

This made Alex frown and tap the table with his index finger. It was an impatient action. "How do they not get it? A rest's recommended but not necessary! Nothing can happen if you're tired. Jack knows that."

"The guy's just old school. Doesn't understand technology and isn't a fan of body swapping." Richard leaned back, rummaged in his pocket and produced a wad of bills. He placed them on the table. "You sure there isn't anything you want to tell me before I meet Mr. Nickle?"

Alex looked at a glass eye in the ceiling - behind it was a camera. He waved the money away. "Nothing."

"Seriously?"

"What do I gain from lying? You're one of the best Locums we've got. Why keep a secret that might put you in danger?"

Richard nodded, grabbed the bills and dropped them back in his pocket. "You get everything on my list for Eden?"

"Of course!" Alex stood, Richard did the same. "All the novels you requested, all in print form, nothing electronic. Everything from your list of movies. The kitchen has been stocked with your favorite foods, active wear is in the closet and the nursing staff has been prepped for your arrival."

"Good work." Richard turned to face the shower and stripped off his jumpsuit. Naked, he opened the door and stepped inside. A whooshing sound, like air from a turbine, soon filled the room. "Is everyone in the OR ready?" he called over the noise.

"Of course."

"Did you get who I asked for?"

"That's a silly question."

The whooshing stopped. Richard opened the door with a smile. "Can't beat a disinfection. Always makes you feel brand new!"

He moved across the room to the mirror that hung above the dressing table. His body was dry, his hair ruffled.

"Good luck with everything." Alex said. He kept his distance while Richard inspected himself.

"Thanks."

"See you on the other side."

"You bet." Richard grinned. "Money in the bank yet?"

"Every cent."

"Then I guess it's show time!"