A New Arrival
The imminent arrival of the silver grey Alouette helicopter was reported to No.2 as a matter of routine, at the same time an ambulance had been despatched as the helicopter circled the village before landing on the lawn by the sea wall. A new arrival had been brought to the village, a woman in her mid 30’s who sat upright but unconscious in a rear seat. The woman was carefully carried out of the clear Perspex cabin of the helicopter by two medical orderlies, placed on a stretcher, then carried over to the ambulance, and placed in the Red Cross trailer. The ambulance was driven up the hill into the village and to her cottage where she would eventually wake in what she would think to be her own home.
The woman woke up lying on a bed in what she
thought was her own bedroom. She was dressed in a dark blue knee length skirt
and a white blouse. Slowly she stirred and sat on the edge of the bed a few
moments before standing up walking through to the kitchen for a glass of water.
As water from the tap filled a glass she glanced out of the window, the shock
made her drop the glass in the sink! Confusion and disorientation soon set in. Her
eyes focused on a view which was far removed from the one from her apartment in
“Good day my dear, no ill effects from
the journey I trust.”
“Who is this?” she asked nervously.
“I realize you must be confused, come
and have afternoon tea. Number 2 the Green Dome.”
The intercom went dead, leaving the
woman hitting the cradle of the telephone trying to get the caller back.
Finally she replaced the receiver trying to gather her thoughts. Eventually she
went to the door of her flat, there was a set of stone steps leading down into
a cobbled square, at the bottom was a signpost it read ‘9 Private.’ There were
people mingling about in the square, some sat on benches. They were all dressed
in brightly coloured clothes; women wore colourful striped capes and a variety
of hats, the men wearing a variety of piped blazers and straw boaters. Taking
in her surroundings she approached a young man emerging from the General Store.
“Excuse me, can you tell me where I
am?”
The young man looked at her and
smiled “In the village.”
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“The village?”
“That’s right.”
“Tell me can I get a car here?”
“Cars?” he smiled “there are no cars,
only taxis, but even then they are only the local service.”
“How far will they take me?”
“Well as far as you want to go, as
long as you end up back here in the end, that’s why they’re called local” the
young man explained.
The woman looked up “That’s the Green
Dome?”
“Yes, are you going to see Number 2?”
“Yes, he invited me to afternoon
tea.”
“Yes he does that. Mind how you go,
be seeing you” he said giving the usual salute before going on his way.
The woman stood frozen on the spot
for a few moments, before she crossed the road, and with a feeling of trepidation
climbed the steps up to the Green Dome. Passing through an archway she approached
the door, it opened automatically and a diminutive butler stood in the foyer
waiting to greet her. She stepped over the threshold, the door closed behind
her and she followed the diminutive man in black tails through the pair of
French doors and up a short ramp. A pair of steel doors slid open, the butler led
the way, and nervously she followed him into the purple walled domed chamber.
“Ah there you are my dear, come in,
don’t be afraid, we are all friends here” No.2 said from his black global chair.
The words did little to reassure her.
She stood at the top of the ramp for a moment, she felt afraid, and looked
afraid. As for the butler who stood beside her, he had seen and heard it all
before, and this first approach was no different to all the others merely at a
later time in the day. He’ll be asked to bring afternoon tea in a minute.
“Please come in” No.2 bid the woman in
friendly way “and we’ll have afternoon tea and perhaps some buttered crumpets.”
The butler bowed and went to his annexe
behind the Green Dome to prepare afternoon tea and toasted the crumpets. The
woman stepped forward, the steel doors closing behind her. She spun round and
for the first time she felt truly trapped. She walked down the ramp and crossed
the floor towards the grey curved desk. No.2 in plain dark blue double breasted
blazer, an old school or college scarf wound about his neck and shoulders,
leaned forward and pressed a button on a control panel. In the floor a round
disc lowered and slid away, leaving a hole through which a black leather chair
appeared. This made the woman step back in shock.
“Please sit down and make yourself
comfortable” No.2 bid her.
The woman remained standing “Why have
I been brought here?”
“We’ll come to that in time. I want
you to be comfortable while you are here, for however long that is.”
“Thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me, because
one day you may learn to
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hate
me.”
The pair of steel doors opened and
the butler reappeared pushing a tea trolley. He set the tea things out onto a
small table which appeared through another hole in the floor.
The butler departed, the steel doors
closing behind him, and No.2 rose out of his chair.
“Shall I be mother?”
It was early evening before No.9 was allowed
to return to her flat, and the night was already beginning to draw in. Lights
were on in some of the cottages, and external lights dimly lit paths, steps,
and the cobbled square. It was rather picturesque, romantic, like fairyland.
No.2 along with his assistant No.14 stood watching the wall screen as she paced
the floor of the living room. Her attitude was one of nervousness, repeatedly
rubbing her palms together.
“Do you think she knows?” No.14
asked.
“She would not have been sent here if
she didn’t” No.2 said with confidence.
“If the Swedish Government knew she
was here…..” 14 suggested.
“They don’t, and therefore do not
come into the matter.”
“Swedish Military Intelligence will miss
her” 14 said concentrating on the woman pictured on the wall screen.
“I’ve never known you to be like this
before. Not weakening are you 14?”
“Like what, before?”
“Sentimental, she is a very
attractive woman, but don’t fall for her, it might well put you at odds with
me” No.2 said in threatening way.
“I’ve read her file; Elsa was a very
good spy. Who worked behind the Iron Curtain for a year……”
“Before her cover was finally blown”
No.2 added “the Swedish secret service had to work fast to get her out.”
“Then she was forced out of the field
and behind a desk in records.”
“And now she is here with so much
knowledge in her head.”
On the wall screen No.9 was preparing
herself supper in the kitchen.
“Her file says she has a photographic
memory.”
No.9 put water in the kettle and
switched it on. Then selected the teapot, cup and saucer. While she waited for
the kettle to boil she made herself a sandwich.
“I want to know about all the files she has
seen.”
No.9 warmed the pot, put two caddy
spoons of tea into the pot and added hot water.
“To make nothing of all the people she has
known, faces once seen and never forgotten, which makes the knowledge inside
her bead priceless.”
“And you intend to extract it all.”
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“That’s why she was brought here.”
“I imagine she well remembers her
training, she will resist” 14 said
erring
on the side of caution.
“Your imaginings do not come into it.
In the end she will not be able to resist telling me everything; she’ll not be
able to stop herself!” No.2 said with confidence “all I have to do is make her
feel comfortable!”
On the wall screen No.9 ate her
sandwich, and drank her tea.
“I see there’s no need for a housemaid
to call on No.9 this evening!” No.2 remarked.
For the next few days Elsa now known as
No.9, was allowed to settle in, to adjust to her new surroundings. She had been
given new clothes colourful striped jerseys, grey slacks, light shoes. An
official from administration had called at her cottage to give her a credit
card, health and welfare card, and an identity card. In the wardrobe she found
a red trilby and colourful striped cape, she put them on and went out.
Sitting at a table at the café
sipping her coffee she watched the village go by. A young man sitting by
himself at another table was looking at her, she saw him and he smiled at her,
she did not return his smile.
“Pardon me” he said addressing her “it’s
nice to see a new face.”
She ignored his greeting, which in
some eyes would have made her disharmonious, if not unmutual. But the plain
truth of the matter was, she was in no mood to converse with strange young men
in a strange and alien place she didn’t wish to be.
“I’m sorry, it is wrong to greet
someone new to the village?”
No.9 did her best to ignore the young
man.
“I was just trying to show
friendliness, to a new arrival. This is wrong? I too was once new here, all
alone and finding it terribly strange, wondering why I should be brought to
such a place.”
Finally she spoke “I’m sorry, but do
go and bother someone else.”
“I am bothering you……I am sorry, that
was not my intention to offend.”
No.9 finished her coffee, paid for it
with her credit card and went for a walk around the village, the Piazza, pausing
at the bandstand as the brass band prepared for their daily concert. She stood
gazing up at Hercules with the World on his shoulders, Hercules having taken
over from Atlas who had gone off to do something else at the time. Through the
gates opposite, the imposing Town Hall, then down the hill towards the Old
People’s Home where afternoon tea was being served. Standing at the white
balustrade she looked down on the quayside, and at the Stone Boat, people were
climbing up and down her rigging, and messing about on her deck.
“You should try her” a voice said.
No.9 turned round to see an elderly
man in red and black striped Jersey and sporting a naval cop
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“I’m sorry?”
“She’s great in any weather, sailed her
many a time.”
No.9 smiled kindly at the Admiral; no doubt he couldn’t help his
senility.
“You look lost me’ dear.”
“I am lost.”
“A stranger in a strange land” the Admiral
said setting out his chessmen on the chequered board.
“Y….yes I suppose I am.”
“Do you play chess me’ dear?”
“Yes.”
“Good, we’ve just time for the one
game” he told her with a beckoning finger.
“Why time for just the one game?”
“Before they come for you, which they
will before too long” the Admiral said making the first move pawn to King three.
“Why should they do that?”
“Because you’re new here me’ dear and
they want something from you, your move” the Admiral told her.
She made her first move, Pawn to King
four.
No.9 hadn’t exactly allowed the Admiral to win
the game, the trouble was her mind wasn’t really on it, because something told
her there was a bigger game to play. After all she hadn’t been brought to the
village for the good of her health. The question is what to do? To study the
village, learn its strengths and weaknesses. Learn who to trust, who to avoid
like the plague, and while she was doing all that, learn how to survive as
survive she must if she was to escape, but escape to where?
Walking back up the hill into the village a
white Mini-Moke pulled up along side her, a man introduced himself.
“I’m Number 14, Number 2 would like a
few words.”
“I’m on my way home” she said
resuming her walk.
The Moke moved backwards alongside
her “Get in and I’ll give you a lift.”
“Home?”
“To the Green Dome, its best we don’t
keep Number 2 waiting, he’s not known for his patience.”
The pair of steel doors slid open, No.9
stood at the top of the ramp looking into the chamber, towards the man sat in
his black spherical chair. No.14 urged her forward and she nervously walked
down the ramp with 14 close at her shoulder.
“There you are my dear” No.2 said in
friendly way.
“If I’m not it must mean I’m in some other
place.”
“Would you prefer to be in some other
place?”
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“Right now….would you like to be in my
shoes?” she said trying to turn the tables.
“They wouldn’t fit my dear, please do
sit down. Perhaps Number 14 would be kind enough to pour out some coffee.”
“What do you think I am, the tea
boy?” 14 said moving towards the desk.
“He’s very droll isn’t he, won’t you sit
down” No.2 said indicating the chair, the comfy chair!
The last time No.9 was in No.2’s office she
was offered a black leather chair. Now in its place was an extremely looking comfortable
armchair.
“I think I shall stand for the time
being.”
“Really, oh well your choice. You
know the reason why you have been brought here to the village.”
“You tell me!” she replied sternly.
“Because you have a photographic
memory, and we want to know about the files you have seen, the projects you know
about, and details not simply headings, along with all the faces you have seen,
and the people you know.”
“And if I refuse to talk?”
“Think it kind of me that you have
the choice to give me what I want, and that I simply do not take it. I don’t
want any harm to come to you, you’re a very attractive woman, Number 14 here
has remarked upon it, haven’t you Number 14.”
“Yes Number 2” who was busy pouring
out three cups of steaming hot coffee.
No.9
tensed her body “You’re going to put me alone in a room with him?”
No.2 looked aghast at the suggestion
“No, certainly not, we’re not barbarians. No, no, I’m not going to do anything
to you, well hardly anything.”
No.14 passed the chief inquisitor his
coffee, and the prisoner hers.
Suddenly she was put under the spotlight, the light so bright that it
hurt her eyes. She lifted an arm in order to try and shield her eyes.
“There is plenty of time my dear; we
can be here all day and longer if necessary. I can stand it longer than you
will. Are you ready to talk……….no, not yet, very well.”
It wasn’t long before the minutes turned
into hours, the hours felt like days, forced to stand in the spotlight with
No.2 sat in his chair watching, waiting with No.14 standing by his chair.
“Sir, do you mind if I sit down?”
“You are feeling tired Number 14?”
“Well to be frank, yes.”
“Oh well if you must.”
No.2 pressed a button on the control
panel and a black leather armchair rose though a hole in the floor. No.14 sat
in the chair and felt instantly all the better for it.
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“Would you like to sit down my dear?” No.2
asked from the comfort of his chair.
No.9 was feeling dizzy under the
light, her eyes were tired, even when closed the light so bright through her
eyelids. She was perspiring, getting more and more tired as the hours dragged
by as she was forced to stand upright for hour after hour, how long had it been
now? Her legs were very tired; she almost collapsed but managed to pull herself
upright. How long? How long since she had been brought to the Green Dome and
forced to stand there? It must be hours and hours. No.14 had fallen asleep in
his chair. No.2 had felt stiff having to sit for hour after hour, rising out of
his chair he paced the floor of his office. He looked at the slumbering No.14.
“He couldn’t take it, you and I my
dear are made of sterner stuff I can see that you are about to collapse. You
may kneel on the floor.”
No.9 dropped to her knees grateful
for the relief.
“Now are you ready to talk?”
No.9 remained silent.
“Surely a kind act should receive
some reward?” 2 suggested.
“My name is Elsa Nilsson.”
“I know that, but it’s a beginning.
How old are you?”
“Thirty-five.”
“Your date of birth.”
“September fifteenth
“You see how good it is to talk. This
must be like the time you were captured behind Iron Curtain. Is it, is it like
that?”
No.9 remained silent.
“Oh come now, please do not be
difficult. You have done very well, there is no disgrace on your part. Why
prolong this ordeal?”
No.9 looked up at her inquisitor.
“Tell me what you know, soon you
won’t be able to stop yourself, its just a matter of tiime” No.2 said glaring
down at the woman kneeling on the floor.
She had no idea of how long it had been, time
had ceased to mean anything in this chamber. But she was feeling her knees now
after so long pressed against the hard floor, but then another kindness.
“Please stand up and sit in the
chair” No.2 said offering her the comfy chair.
No.14 finally stirred and woke up.
“Ah good, Number 14 is back in the
land of the living! Be a good fellow, and go and organise some tea.”
No.14 left the chamber as No.9 tried
to rise to her feet, she found it difficult, No.2 assisted her, and she was
grateful to be made comfortable in the armchair. A few minutes later No.14
returned with the tea, No.2 poured out three cups, handing one to No.9 who had
made herself comfortable. She accepted the offered cup of tea, knowing full
well that she would never sit in anything, or feel, so comfortable ever again.
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It
had been a long interrogation session, and now everything No.9 had to tell, all
the information inside her head now recorded on tape. She had told them everything,
she could not help herself, and it had been good to talk. Now she had nothing
to hide, there was nothing more they could do to her. No.9 was exhausted,
defeated, yet standing on the balcony of the Green Dome looking down at the
ground she did not jump! She slowly descended the stone steps on her way back
to her cottage, the day had long since broken, music from the brass band
concert drifted on the air. People mingled in the cobbled square as she began
to cross the road. Suddenly there was a loud noise, a cross between someone
breathing through an aqua lung, Gregorian chant, and a bicycle pump. Then it
came rolling and bounding along the road towards her. Pedestrians stepped
smartly to the side of the road as one, and cyclists dismounted their canopy
covered bicycles at the side of the road, everyone in the cobbled square stood
stock still as the white amorphous shape of the Guardian passed by. No.9 tried
to move, but was somehow rooted to the spot as the Guardian brushed passed her.
Then it was gone and everything, and everyone returned to normal, even No.39
who had been stopped dead in his track leaving the General Store went on his
way as though nothing had happened. She approached a couple sitting on a bench.
“What was that?” she asked.
“What was what?” the couple asked.
“That….that white balloon thing?”
“You mean the Guardian” they said in
unison.
“Is that what it’s called?”
“That or Rover” the man said.
“What does it do?”
“It serves and protects the community”
the couple said in unison “mostly it acts like a guard dog.”
No.9 having returned to her cottage
went straight to bed, and slept the rest of the day away, and all through the
night. So there was no need for the housemaid to go calling to make No.9’s
nightcap. The night Watch was instructed to keep an open surveillance eye on
her, just in case there should be any ill effects from her ordeal.
The next morning No.9 woke refreshed. She bathed, then dressed, finding a navy blue roll neck sweater and a pair of terracotta coloured slacks, and a pair of sensible flat shoes. A housemaid brought her breakfast with the compliments of No.2. To her surprise she found she had a healthy appetite which was something. From the wardrobe she took her red trilby hat and colourful striped cape put them on and went out into the early morning sunshine. No.9 thought she would feel disgusted with herself, and to some extent there was a feeling of betrayal, not to her country but to herself. After all for all she knew it might well have been her former people who had had her placed in this village. Now, having given away so much, she was well and truly on her own!
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There was a sudden fanfare which preceded
an announcement
“Good morning everyone, good morning,
it’s another lovely day, and the recent spell of fine weather is set to continue
for at least for another month. The ice cream flavour of the day is strawberry.
And
for
your entertainment a folk music concert is to take place tomorrow evening at
the Recreation Hall, and your local amateur dramatics society is to produce a
performance of Macbeth.”
“Why did that voice have to be so
damned cheery?” No.9 thought to her self “Why so determined that people are
kept amused and entertained?” she asked herself.
“In order to keep the people busy, to keep
their minds on other things rather than to cause mischief and attempting
escapes!” a voice replied.
She turned to see a man in cream and
brown striped jersey.
“Be seeing you” he said and calmly
went on his way.
She strolled through the village, the day
was sunny and warm, although there was a slight breeze. She found herself
walking along the quayside. People were enjoying the day on the beach. A man
passed by and raised a circled thumb and forefinger to his right eye.
“Why did people do that?” she asked.
“It’s a greeting” No.43 told her.
“Meeting or parting?”
“Either. I’m going to fly my kite”
the man said tapping the canvas under his arm “I made it myself you know, be seeing
you” and he went down the steps and walked out onto the sand.
He walked quite a way out on the sand,
and set up the kite, he let out the string, pulled on it then began to run as
fast as he could until the kite lifted in the air on the breeze, he let out
more and more string, the kite rising higher and higher into the sky. This had
not gone unnoticed by the Observers who informed the supervisor of No.43’s
activity. The supervisor alerted security who despatched two guardians in a
Min-Moke, its siren blaring out as it shot down the slipway and across the sand
towards No.43 and his kite. No.9 stood
watching from the quayside as the man was overpowered, the kite pulled down and
taken away with its owner. There was nothing she could do, there was nothing
she could have done, so No.9 took the path along the cliffs, passed the
lighthouse which had no light, but a single bell. A little way on she stood
atop of the cliffs looking out to sea, then down to the rock below.
“I hope you’re not thinking of
jumping are you?” a voice suddenly asked.
This took No.9 by surprise and she
staggered back from the edge of the cliff, and No.4 took her by the arm, their
presence together shielded by the bushes.
“Who are you?”
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“A prisoner” he told her “what about you?”
“What about me?” she said struggling
against him.
“Are you a prisoner or one of them?”
“One of them?”
“A warder, a guardian, how long have
you been here?”
“Who are you to ask. Go back and tell your Number 2 that I’ve nothing more
to give!”
He released his grip of her arm “I
didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t!” she told him sternly.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. It’s just that I’ve had a
couple of bad days, and the worst of it is I think I’ve handed myself to Number
2 on a plate!”
“How?”
“How many ways are there? In this
instant it was the comfy chair!” she told him “I had better go.”
“Can we meet later?”
“Why would you want to?” and with
that she hurried on her way.
The pair of steel doors opened and
No.14 walked smartly down the ramp “The supervisor informs me that Number 9 was
seen with Number 4 on the cliffs a few minutes ago.”
“Really, I suppose it was only a
question of time before they met” No.2 replied closing a file he had been
reading.
“You want them to meet again, perhaps
to form a relationship?”
“Heaven forbid! In no shape or form
do we want that. I have plans for Number 9 myself, and I don’t want that Number
4 messing about with them!”
“You have plans for Number 9?”
“After her interrogation, and having
given up everything she knew, Number 9 gave herself to us, and now she’s going
to work for us.”
“That’s nice, she’ll bring a certain
attractiveness to the office.”
“Well certainly her feminine wiles
can be put to good use, and if she can play the damsel in distress then all to
the good.”
No.2 leaned forward and pressed a
button on the control panel of his desk, the wall screen came to life depicting
the central area of the village. The press of another button showed the café,
then the taxi rank, the quayside, the beach, and the Old People’s Home.
“Ah there she is, good.”
No.9 had walked along the quayside and went
through the open gate leading onto the lawn of the Old People’s Home. She sat
down, alone at one of the tables.
“Shall I have her picked up?”
“Certainly not, she’s been through a
great deal since her arrival here and she’s unsure of herself. I don’t want her
more frightened, and maladjusted than she already is. We’ll give her a little
time to re-adjust. But I think I shall invite her for lunch, a working lunch.”
The steel doors closed behind No.9, she felt
more than a little nervous but put on
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a brave face as she walked down the ramp and across the floor. No.2
was sat behind his desk, and there was a vacant black leather chair.
“You look nervous my dear, there’s no
need to be I assure you” No.2 said.
She sat down in the chair. The butler
appeared pushing a wooden breakfast trolley and set lunch, consisting of a
plate of sandwiches and a pot of coffee, out on a small round topped table,
then bowed to his master before leaving the chamber.
“I am pleased you could join me for a
working lunch” No.2 said getting out from behind his desk “milk and sugar, ah
no sugar, I was forgetting.”
He offered her a cup coffee, and
presented a plate of dainty triangular cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut
off.
She helped herself to two sandwiches balancing
them on the edge of the saucer.
No.2 returned to his chair with cup
and saucer and two ham and cheese sandwiches “How are you feeling now my dear?”
“I have been trying to gather myself,
I feel ashamed that I gave in so easily” she told him sipping her coffee.
“Ashamed, how so, there is no shame,
we all have a breaking point you know. Admittedly some agents last longer than
others, but
everyone
talks on the third day. No, there is no shame. You know what you need my dear
is…….”
“A holiday, fortnights leave away
from this place, somewhere different so I can recuperate” she said eating a
sandwich.
“Ah good you have managed to retain
your sense of humour. I can use such a woman as you, I think you should come and
work for me” No.2 suggested.
“I was afraid of that.”
“Afraid?”
“Afraid that you would put such an
offer to me, having made me feel the lowest of the low, and now you want to drag
me down even further by using me to betray others by working for you.”
“These cucumber sandwiches are really
delicious, but I always think it’s a shame to cut off the crusts don’t you?” he
said.
No.9 finished her coffee and
sandwiches; in her mind she knew that it was now a question of survival.
No.2 put down his cup and saucer and
picking up a black file and leaning forward across his desk handed it to No.9.
“Here are the details your first
assignment; I think you will find it interesting. I shall be watching your
progress with great interest.”
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