Tuesday, 31 December 2013
‘I don’t know. Something’s not quite right here. Words have disappeared before; remember when the stigma of association became too much for Politician and he went to ground? Now, that case was easy enough to work out but Crusade’s disappearance? There’s nothing to indicate why and we’re left with that odd scene in his room. A mystery.’
Constable leaned back and stared at the ceiling as if the answer might be found there. He wore a blue suit – he considered a full uniform to be overkill – and liked to carry a notebook on his person at all times: a notebook which he now flicked through with a frown. Across the table, Cracker sketched meandering doodles on an A4 pad and pursed his lips.
Sunday, 22 December 2013
At 5am in the morning, Crusade walked towards the I-block and, as ever, his gaze was drawn to the top of the building. There, looking for all the world as if it was floating above the 28-storey tower, was the distinctive circular ball which made the building replicate a lower case “i”, complete with tittle. The tittle was attached by ten-foot high reinforced steel rods and, here, technology and engineering combined to stunning effect. A sensor within the structure charted the sky colour which was simultaneously superimposed on the steel rods. At 5am on a December morning, the steel rods were as dark as the night sky, creating a convincing silhouetted i.
Tuesday, 17 December 2013
The clock by her bedside showed it was 3am. Treason had spent a restless night after her encounter with Crusade. Had she been too harsh in dismissing him? He had, after all, been rather sweet in his attempts to woo her and she’d enjoyed the many hours spent in his company. But she was who she was. Treason continually looked for adventure; she enjoyed flirting with danger and was happy when she found herself in situations with a frisson of excitement. Had Crusade suggested that they abseil down from the room high up in B-block to his own room, this would’ve appealed to her more than the elaborate arrangements he’d gone to. She craved the spontaneous, the dramatic and the unpremeditated.
Tuesday, 10 December 2013
As on the previous day, lethargy prevailed among the small group assembled in C-block; this time, the location was a bar in the same building and their pale faces and muted chatter bore testimony to the excesses of the night before. Correspondent gazed into the distance, Cynic idly swirled the ice cubes in his gin and tonic and braced himself before tasting it, Clever exhaled as he leaned back on the banquette, Correct warily sipped his drink and both Coin and Cutback nursed soft drinks and grimaced when the door slammed shut as Conspiracy joined them.
‘Morning,’ he said, checked his watch and added: ‘Or afternoon, more like. Looks like you guys feel much the same as me. Good fun last night, though.’
‘It was,’ said Clever, groaning as he looked at his watch. ‘Hell, I’ve got a meeting to attend soon…just as I was getting comfortable, or less uncomfortable, here. ’
‘Unavoidable?’ asked Correspondent.
‘Unfortunately, yes. There’s a shindig planned today to officially launch the ATM app. It'll feature a lot of smug self-congratulation so I'd rather stay here but that wouldn’t be viewed favourably, methinks. I have been one of the participants in the project.’