The Selfless Gene

Chapter 25

Home. Thame lets out a long breath as he looks up at his building. He'd got really comfortable in his flat but the thought of people knowing where he was or, worse, listening or watching, filled him with dread. He grabs a coffee on the corner of the street and watches the building, seeing if anything irregular cropped up. By now they'd know he was back and would be going after his stuff. Deliveries, neighbours pottering about, but nothing suspicious. There were no vans or people hanging out for abnormal amounts of time. Not a single person was doing a relay with another, keeping tabs. It seemed to be safe for now.

Deciding that he'd give it a little longer, he turns on his phone. If he's going to let the world come at him, he might as well take it full-force electronically first. Texts, WhatsApp group messages, missed calls, social notifications: every App yelled its worst. Thame wondered if the vibration notifications would make the phone dance. It was too much to sift through.

 He went into a few key Apps and changed his passwords. After all, Paimona had used the phone to create a digital-only creature of her making. Most importantly, he stops his subscription to the Cloud and digitally scrubs it clean. She couldn't keep tabs on him any longer. He strips his social accounts of their content so they're bare. His history deleted in an instant. There's one thing for it: total reset. Factory settings. The whole shebang.

Would he need people's numbers? Maybe. He knew his parents' by heart but the rest were disposable. Does he need a recruiter's number still? No. Guys from university he used to party with? Probably not. Isabella's? His finger hovers over the confirm button. He stops, flicks through his contacts, grabs a pen and writes Andrea's and a couple other useful numbers on a napkin. He knew that re-downloading the Apps would still give him some notifications, but he could handle that. The next few weeks would be him wiping his life clean, and he might as well start with his phone. He presses full reset.

Thame packs everything away into his pockets and heads for his building, tapping out an email confirming he's moving out. He has a month to serve and, if he's alive after that, he'll need a new place. Thankfully his keys still work and, ignoring the concierge, he quickly scarpers to the lift across the foyer. Thame knew Paimona was likely notifying one of them, so he had to be quick. In front of his door, all looked normal. Behind it, surely a sea of dust had settled, like snow in a quiet tomb.

He turns the key and heads in. Evidently the flat has had some visitors, a couple rather recently. Dustmarks of things moved around were a telltale sign: there were irregular levels and thicknesses in the grey fuzz. And his vases and animal decorations aren't in the right places. Sloppy. Thame picks up a lingering smell of old, cheap male aftershave: they'd been there that very morning.

He doesn't care if he's being watched, he just needs some key items. Grabbing a large duffle, he stuffs it full of clothes and toiletries. A toothbrush, razor and some chargers follow. Stopping to change into his own clothes, Thame immediately feels one hundred times better. Switching his new synthetic jumper and summer jacket for his own coat, he's almost done. Reaching into his paperwork which sat on his top drawer, he grabs two additional credit cards, the ones he didn't need on the work trip. 

Outside the window, he sees a maintenance van pull up, and four very hardy and mean looking plumbers get out. Thame wastes no more time in heading out, getting the lift down to the first floor and watching the stairs. One of the plumbers passes by, headed to the top exit. Thame dashes down to the foyer.

"Tell your friends that I'm sorry I missed them."

Thame winks and smiles before leaving. He speedily crosses the street and disappears into city. They could track his credit cards, but cash would be fine for a couple of days. He stops by an ATM and gets enough for a no-frills hotel for a couple of nights.