Emily doesn’t reply, but stares, silent and thoughtful.
‘Anyway,’ Safa announces. ‘What’s your real proper name?’
‘That is my real proper name!’ Emily laughs again.
‘Whatever. Eat your strawberries, or I’ll steal them.’
Miri sits at her desk, staring at the hologram image, with the smartphone on the desk and the wire stretching up to her ear. Ben is good. He’s smart. Miri likes that.
She ponders as the doctor wanders in, says goodnight and retires to wage war on the whale. The others stay outside. Chatting. Laughing. Genial voices. The seeds she planted have formed roots. The roots are strengthening, but are they strong enough yet? It took ages to loosen the rivet enough for it to appear to be a natural breakage.
‘Night, ma’am,’ Harry says, passing by when they start filing back in.
‘Night, Miri,’ Ben says, lifting a hand as he passes.
‘Still up?’ Safa asks.
‘Safa, word please. Tango Two, you also,’ Miri says.
‘What’s up?’ Safa asks, walking into the office with Emily behind her. ‘And her name is Emily . . .’
Are the roots strong enough yet? Miri pauses, listening for the door in the corridor to close, which signals Ben and Harry have both moved on. ‘I have a mission.’
‘Okay,’ Safa says slowly with a glance at Emily.
‘There is a woman,’ Miri says, watching them both closely. ‘She is very attractive. Flirtatious. I need information from her. Do you think Ben will be suitable to extract what . . .’
‘Over my fucking dead body,’ Safa blurts. ‘Ben’s not going anywhere near some rancid, diseased whore.’
Emily stares at her in surprise at the vehemence in her voice. Miri stays expressionless, but calculating every reaction.
‘Fuck off,’ Safa tells them both. ‘Not a chance he’s doing anything like that. He’s a decent man. Who is she? I’ll get the information.’
‘My concern is that the information will be within a device she has . . .’
‘No worries,’ Safa says. ‘I’ll get it from her. Where is she? What do you need Emily for?’
‘If you let me speak, Miss Patel . . .’
‘Okay,’ Safa says, either ignoring or ignorant of the rebuke.
‘I do not know if it is appropriate to take the phone from her, or if it should be examined in situ. The technology is from Tango Two’s era . . .’
‘You want Emily to go on a mission?’
‘Me?’ Emily asks.
‘Not with Ben though. I’ll do it,’ Safa says. ‘You up for it?’ she asks Emily.
‘Are you serious?’ Emily asks, turning from Safa to Miri.
‘Do you now know why we are here?’ Miri asks her.
‘The footage,’ Emily says. ‘Ben just said . . .’
‘What year is she in?’ Safa asks. ‘This attractive woman that isn’t going anywhere near Ben, I mean.’
‘2061.’
‘That’s . . .’ Emily says.
‘Your time,’ Miri says, finishing her sentence when Emily trails off.
‘Let me get this right,’ Emily says. ‘You are suggesting taking me outside of this place to my own time? I am an agent. It was my side trying to stop you . . . You do not know me well enough to . . .’
‘Your side,’ Safa scoffs. ‘What, the same people that tried to kill you, yeah? And you walked right past the portal the other night and went outside with Harry instead . . .’
‘Do you know why they were trying to kill me?’ Emily asks, looking from Safa to Miri. ‘I keep going over and over it, but . . . I didn’t do anything wrong. I had Bertie. I had him . . .’
‘Dunno,’ Safa says.
‘Safa and I will be with you, and after seeing what she did to Maurice, I have no doubt she will be able to deal with you.’
‘The world ends?’ Emily asks. ‘How? What happens?’
‘We don’t know yet,’ Safa says. ‘Bertie filmed that footage, then he went back and got his dad.’
‘Roland?’ Emily asks. ‘You said before that Roland tried killing himself.’
‘So where’s this whore then?’
‘Tango Two?’ Miri asks.
‘Emily,’ Safa says.
‘Tango Two,’ Miri says, ignoring Safa.
‘Emily,’ Safa says, ignoring being ignored.
‘Do I have your word you will not try and escape or alert your people?’ Miri asks.
‘Say yes,’ Safa says.
Emily blinks and goes to speak to voice the hundred or more questions whizzing through her head that suddenly drop away to leave an empty void. ‘Sure, why not,’ she says, amazed at herself for saying it. ‘I give you my word.’
Twenty-One
‘What?’
‘Yeah, and I said there is no way you are going near her, so Emily is going with me.’
‘What?’ Ben asks again. He looks at Harry in the middle room, then back to Safa in her room and blanches at seeing her pulling her top off. ‘Shit, sorry, Safa,’ he turns away quickly.
‘What for? I’ve got my bra on. You’re blushing, Ben.’
‘I’m not. It’s hot.’ He clears his throat. ‘You sure it’s a good idea?’
‘What?’ Safa asks, trying to choose between a black vest and a black T-shirt.
‘Taking Tango . . . I mean Emily with you. Out of here, I mean.’
‘She gave her word,’ Safa calls back.
‘That’s very noble, but she’s a trained agent, Safa.’
‘Miri said she can do it. Miri asked her actually. The whore has a phone. Miri doesn’t know if we can take it away, so Emily might need to examine it in situ.’
‘Er, why is she a whore again?’ Ben asks. ‘You decent yet?’
‘Yep,’ Safa says, holding the vest and T-shirt up.
‘Safa!’ Ben says, turning away again at seeing her laughing while still in her bra.
‘Twat,’ she chuckles. ‘She’s a whore because Miri said she’s attractive and flirtatious and wanted you to go and speak to her, so like I said . . . I told Miri there is no way anyone like that is going near you.’
‘Right,’ Ben says, looking at Harry clearly enjoying himself. ‘Er . . .’
‘Cos I’ll be jealous.’
‘Jealous?’
‘Yeah.’ Safa decides on the black T-shirt and tugs it down over her head. ‘You’re my Ben Ryder, not some other woman’s Ben Ryder.’
‘Safa?’ Emily calls out, leaning through the door.
‘Ready?’ Safa asks.
‘I am,’ Emily says, looking down at herself, then across to Safa. ‘We’re matching.’
‘So?’
‘Draws the eye if we look the same. I thought we had to be covert. Miri said . . .’
‘Oh,’ Safa says, looking from herself to Emily, both wearing black T-shirts. ‘Fair one. I’ll change my top . . .’
‘Something different to me.’
‘This?’ Safa calls out.
‘That’s a black vest top.’
‘Yeah.’
‘No,’ Emily says. ‘Something not black.’
‘Something not black,’ Safa repeats, looking round the room at her black clothes. ‘Ben, you’ve got white T-shirts. Can I use one?’
‘Er, yeah, sure, hang on,’ Ben says, heading into his room.
‘Never been very good with clothes and things,’ Safa tells Emily.
‘It’ll be baggy,’ Ben says, walking back with one.
‘S’fine, it’ll hide the pistol,’ Safa says, tugging her top off as Ben swears and turns round again.
‘You can stop laughing, beardy,’ he mutters, slumping down into the chair next to a chuckling Harry.
‘Sharing clothes, eh?’ Harry says. ‘My Ben.’