Acolyte (19 page)

Annabel looked around at the empty kitchen in her empty apartment and let out a cold laugh at the irony.

Then she got another text from Jonah. There were only three words this time, but it was enough to make her freeze.

Three words that changed everything.

That same morning, Never Geary had come to the FRS office earlier than normal. He'd woken at a crazy hour and been unable to get back to sleep, and he knew exactly what the problem was. It had been three days since the Mary Connart revival and he'd not heard anything from Jonah since the drive back to Richmond.

‘You worry too much,' he told himself, and it was true. But there had been a time, not so long ago, when Jonah had made all of Never's fears come to pass: when Never had found his friend in a mess on his bathroom floor, surrounded by pill-laden vomit.

Something like that tended to sharpen your instinct for worrying.

This time he'd left Jonah alone for a full twenty-four hours before he'd even called and left a message. A difficult revival could hit hard – and Mary Connart had been difficult – so he'd not been surprised that Jonah would retreat for a while, but today was the day that he would move up from tentative messages on his voicemail and knock on Jonah's door.

The office filled up. After Hugo's regular update meeting Never got back to his desk and went through his schedule for the day. He planned to get downstairs and finalize the new equipment tests, avoiding any on-site duties so that he could devote himself to proper, full-scale worrying.

Then Hugo called him into his office.

Hugo's door was open a crack, so he walked in after a token knock in case anyone else was with him. ‘Hey, boss,' he said.

Hugo looked up from his desk, hands folded, biting at the nail of one thumb. He sighed and held up a thick wad of stapled pages. ‘My eyes only,' he said. ‘So shut the door.'

‘Right,' said Never. He shut it and came over to Hugo's desk, glancing back to make sure the window slats were closed. He looked at the top page of the documents Hugo was holding.
FRS Director and Office Managers Only
, it said. ‘On pain of death,' mused Never aloud. ‘You sure I can look?'

‘Officially we're telling staff about all of this tomorrow – well, about most of it. This is to give me a little time to prepare. And I know you can keep a secret.'

‘Ha,' said Never, grinning, but then he caught the look on Hugo's face and put his grin away. ‘Right, yes, I can keep a secret.'

‘I'd appreciate it,' said Hugo. ‘You've been here longer than I have, Never – longer than anyone in the office. I want to hear what you think: they're starting up Baseline again.'

‘I'd heard the rumour,' said Never.

‘Really?' said Hugo. ‘This was news to me. There's going to be an announcement this afternoon, I'm told. A televised press conference. But … well.' He flipped through the document and passed it to Never, his finger pointing at a specific paragraph. ‘There.'

‘Shit,' said Never once he'd read it. He looked up. ‘Do they really …?'

Hugo nodded. ‘An open offer to high-rated revivers to join the research team on a full-time basis. Well paid. At least as good as the salary private insurance firms offer. And a damn sight higher than the FRS scales.'

‘Ouch,' said Never. The figures the document listed were almost painful, and Never suddenly understood why Hugo had wanted to confide in someone. ‘How many will we lose?'

‘There are limited spaces, so it depends on the uptake. I mean, for the best private revivers it might not be tempting enough, at
least financially. The location hasn't been announced, so relocating will be a disincentive, but …'

‘Is there a chance they'll use the old site?' The original Baseline location had been taken back by the US Army when Baseline had closed, but it was just over an hour's drive away. ‘If they do, we're fucked, surely …' Theirs was the nearest FRS office. It could prove to be a rout.

Hugo nodded. ‘They have a minimum rating as a guideline, but a third of our revivers are eligible.'

‘Have you talked to Thorne? Maybe he'd be willing to consider raising pay to keep them?' He knew it was a forlorn hope, even as he said it.

‘I've talked to Robert, yes,' said Hugo. ‘There's no chance the FRS can match this. The biggest problem he sees is that once people have tasted the higher salary they won't come back, even once the research project finishes.'

‘How long until it does?'

‘It's funded for at least a year, but it could be longer.'

‘What about the Afterlifers? Surely some of them will be uneasy about this?'

Hugo shook his head. ‘Page twelve,' he said, and Never hunted through the document until he found it. ‘The Afterlifers are part of the picture. The research has their full support, and after that it'll be pending … what did they call it?'

‘“Pending a full review of the judicial use of Forensic Revival in the United States”,' read Never. ‘Fuck. A full review.'

‘And the Afterlifers have something else, something they couldn't have dreamed of,' said Hugo. ‘The review board will include several senior pro-Afterlifer members, and the review will have the power to halt revival completely. I would hope that's unlikely, but it's not impossible.' He reached out his hand and Never passed back the document. ‘Of course if we lose the revivers, inevitably some technicians will go too. We'll have to wait and see, but just be aware of the possibility.'

‘Ah,' said Never, realizing that he would be the one who gave out any bad news.

‘There's one other thing,' said Hugo. ‘How's Jonah doing?'

‘He's fine,' said Never, a little too quickly. ‘Why?'

Hugo rummaged among the papers on his desk and produced several envelopes. ‘I have these to hand out. Personal offers to selected revivers to assist with the Baseline research. The people they're approaching directly get first refusal. Our top-rated people, of course. Jason and Stacy. Jonah's offer has been sent here too, I guess his resignation hasn't quite trickled through the system yet. Still a valid offer, though, I think. I was wondering if you'd give it to him once it's all public, after the press conference?'

‘Sure,' said Never. He took the envelope, knowing what it meant. He'd been holding out hope that Jonah would be back at the FRS within months, but the offer in his hand was a guarantee that he'd be gone for at least a year. Worse, he'd be gone to whatever part of the country played host to the research. He knew Jonah would want to be involved; he'd have wanted to be even if they'd been paying peanuts. To be part of finding out what revival was, and what it
meant
… It seemed a foregone conclusion that Stacy would sign up, too, for the same reasons. As for Jason, even if the guy wasn't exactly burdened with
principle
, the money would sway it.

He wondered again where the new Baseline site would be; suddenly the idea of it being local had some appeal, since Jonah wouldn't have to move away.

The envelope felt far heavier than its physical weight.

When he'd first heard the rumour about Baseline starting again, the one thing that hadn't occurred to him was saying goodbye to friends.

*

It was 2 p.m. when Never showed up unannounced at Jonah's apartment. Jonah was slumped on his couch in T-shirt and pants
when the intercom sounded. He lifted his purring cat from his lap and got a look of feline disapproval, then walked to the door.

‘Just checking you're not dead,' said Never on the intercom.

‘Subtle,' said Jonah.

‘As always.'

Jonah buzzed him up. He threw some jeans on in the interim. Since getting home from the confrontation with Blake Torrance – and with whatever had been on Torrance's shoulder – Jonah had stayed indoors, curtains drawn. The image of the suited man arriving at the scene had stayed with him. The man, and the darkness he carried, making Jonah certain of one thing: the
others
Torrance had spoken of were very real. How many of them could there be? There was no way to know.

Worse, this second shadow had looked far clearer than Torrance's.
Stronger
, Jonah thought.

He'd ignored Never's calls even though he knew he would eventually have to tell him and Annabel what had happened. It looked like the time had come.

‘Afternoon,' said Never, peering into Jonah's gloomy flat like a disappointed parent. ‘Thought I'd come by and kick you out of your bed.'

‘I was already up,' said Jonah.

‘Arguably,' said Never. He held out an envelope. ‘I have news.' Jonah went to take it, but Never snatched it back. ‘Not so fast. You remember what Sam said about them reopening Baseline?'

‘Really?' said Jonah, smiling when Never gave a nod.

‘Really,' said Never, looking uneasy. ‘There's a press conference in an hour or so to announce it. And this is your invite to join the team.' Jonah lunged forward and grabbed the envelope, then tore it open. ‘I'm supposed to wait until …' said Never, then he shrugged.

It was light on detail, promising more in the days to come, but it was confirmation. The letter was signed by Doctor Stephanie Graves, Head of the Revival Baseline Research Group. He read it
again, only then noticing that the offer came with a salary that was more than double his FRS pay. ‘They want a response by tomorrow,' he said. He looked at Never, confused by the anxious expression on his friend's face. ‘Why so worried?' he said. ‘This is better than I could've imagined.'

‘Does it say anything about where it'll be?'

Jonah checked again and shook his head. ‘Nothing. There's a number to call for queries, but only after the press conference.'

‘I take it by the look on your face you plan to accept?'

‘Of course I do,' said Jonah. ‘Especially now. There's something I need to tell you. You and Annabel. Something I've been putting off for the last few days. But I think
this
–' he brandished the letter – ‘this gives us a way to fight back.'

‘Fight?' said Never. He scowled. ‘What's been going on, Jonah?'

Ten minutes later, Jonah's account of what had gone on in DC had left Never looking ill. ‘Fuck off,' said Never. ‘Fuck
off.
You told Annabel any of this?'

‘Not yet,' said Jonah. ‘How long before you head back to work?'

‘After what you just told me I'm not sure I plan on going back
outside.
'

‘That was my reaction, too,' said Jonah.

‘You think these … creatures … you think they're something to do with what Andreas brought through?'

‘I think so. What's been left behind, maybe. In the vision I had when Andreas tried to strangle me, I think I saw something like them. Servants, perhaps. Or disciples. Acolytes.'

‘And there are definitely others?'

‘I only saw one but the way Torrance spoke, there have to be at least a few more of them. It could be dozens.'
Or hundreds
, he thought to himself. ‘If that's true, then I'd guess they would be keen to get into influential positions. Jockeying for power. Baseline reopening is crucial, though. It means we can find out what's going on.'

‘You think anyone will believe you?'

‘I'm sure Stephanie Graves will listen,' said Jonah. ‘She'll have the power to do something about it. These things are physical, at least in part. Somehow I can see them when they're attached to their host, but they seem to be visible to everyone when they detach. With her help, we can do the research; we'll be able to learn what they are and defend against them.'

They hunted around the news channels until they found one that was readying broadcast of the press conference. Jonah took his phone and sent Annabel a text.
Call me. Need to talk. Now.
Given that she usually knew about everything before he did, he expected her to already be watching. He didn't think she would get back to him right away. If at all. Even so, he held his phone in his hand, hoping.

The picture cut from the wide shot of the conference room and the waiting audience, back to the newscaster. She explained that the press conference was revival related (‘although at this time we have no further details'), and that they would be rejoining it as soon as it started.

After twenty minutes the channel returned to the press conference, starting with the wide shot, then moving in to show only the conference panel. Stephanie Graves was sitting in the centre seat. The seat to her left was empty and in the remaining three sat people Jonah didn't recognize. Doctor Graves waited for a minute or so; at last she nodded, smiled, and began.

‘Good afternoon,' she said. ‘My name is Doctor Stephanie Graves. It's my privilege to announce today the launch of a new research project, to extend the work of the Revival Baseline Research Group. With the support of every side in the revival debate, it will further our knowledge of what revival is, and what it means for us.' She paused and took a sip of water from the glass in front of her. ‘The research will be carried out on a site generously provided by the project's key benefactor. The site is self-sufficient and will act as home to the estimated two hundred staff involved, which will include one hundred of the best revivers we can attract
to the project.' The camera pulled back to include the screen behind her, which was now displaying a photograph of a large building in a desert plain. ‘Located in Winnerden Flats, Nevada, the facility features state-of-the-art laboratories, with access to bespoke technologies that will allow us to explore the nature of the most baffling phenomenon known to science.'

‘That's the place, right?' said Never, looking uneasy. ‘The Andreas Biotech site you mentioned?'

Jonah nodded, suddenly very nervous, wondering what it meant. He'd thought that the work at Winnerden Flats must have been deeply sensitive for Blake Torrance to be so desperate to protect it, yet this was very, very public.