No.2
took a taxi ride to the hospital, it wasn’t that she was feeling unwell, no she
had never felt so good as she did today. You see today was her last day of her
term in office, and tomorrow she was due to leave the village. No, she had a
very good reason to go to the hospital, one of compassion seeing as she was a
hospital visitor.
The taxi pulled onto the gravelled
forecourt and came to a halt behind an ambulance. Two medics were helping a man
out of the Red Cross trailer, as an orderly appeared pushing a wheelchair. No.2
told the driver not to wait, that she would walk back to the village, it being
such a wondrous day. The sun shining, the birds singing, and everything in the
garden was lovely, everything except for No.9!
No.2 entered the hospital behind the
orderly pushing the man in the wheelchair, and made for ‘ward A,’ but was
stopped by the matron.
“And just where do you think you are going
my fine lady?”
No.2 stopped, and turned to face the woman
behind the voice of authority “I take it you know who I am.”
“Yes, you are Number 2.”
“That’s right” and made to turn.
“Chairwoman of the village.”
No.2 stopped and turned back “Yes, that’s
right.”
“And presumably you know who I am.”
“You are the matron here.”
“Yes, and this is my hospital.”
“I am here to see one of your patients.”
“Visiting hours are between twelve and two”
the matron said looking at her watch “it is now ten minutes after the hour of
two.”
“Do not test my patience” Number 2 told
her.
“You have clearly come to test mine!” she
said in return.
“I need to know why Number 9 did what he
did.”
“Is it that important?”
“Yes.”
“He is sedated, so you had better come back
another day.”
“I don’t have another day.”
“That is not my problem” the matron told
her.
Just at that moment a man in a white coat
appeared on the scene.
“What’s the problem?” the doctor asked.
“I need to see a patient, Number 9.”
“I told her she can’t, visiting hours are over”
the matron said butting in.
“It’s alright matron, Number 2 can see the
patient” the doctor told her.
No.2 walked towards the double doors of
Ward A.
“But you won’t get anything out of him.”
No.2 stopped and turned “Why?”
“Because he died five minutes ago!”
This came as a shock to No. 2.
“The after effects can be pretty nasty, I
thought he was going to pull through.”
“What was it in the end doctor?”
“His heart finally gave out.”
“Would you say his escape was a form of
suicide?”
“There’s no way of knowing, I do not know
what was in his mind at the time. He must have known he would not have got far.
I expect he knew the consequences of any attempted escape.”
“Yes, yes he knew doctor.”
Later that afternoon No.2 sat in her black
spherical chair. The steel doors opened and No.22, a young dark haired woman in
blue sweater, and blue slacks marched smartly down the ramp and across the
floor.
“Did you get to see Number 9 ma’am?”
“No, he died before I could see him.”
“So he took it to the grave with him” 22
said.
“If only that Orange alert had not been initiated.”
“Orange
alert ma’am, there was no Orange alert.”
“But the Guardian attacked Number 9.”
“The Guardian was on routine patrol, there
was no Orange alert initiated ma’am.”
“It was suicide, 9 attempted to escape
fully aware of the consequences” No.2 told her assistant.
“But he couldn’t possibly have known he
would die.”
“If only he had talked, told us what he
knew.”
“It wasn’t my fault” No.2 said in her
defence “We tried everything we could.”
“You leave tomorrow don’t you?”
“This isn’t going to look good on my record
I know that!”
“You failed!” 22 said.
“What does it matter now?”
“It doesn’t matter to me, but it might to
someone” 22 suggested.
“You mean Number 1, yes she has been quiet
all day. I expected to hear from her as soon as 9 had died” No.2 glanced that
the red ‘L’ shaped telephone.
It was the next day and No.2 was busy
packing for the journey back to the homeland, and much relieved she was to be
leaving. As it happened she had left an item of personal properly in her
office, and so she went there via the underground passages. At the end of a
corridor there was a dais, she stood upon it and it raised upwards, a hole
appeared in the ceiling and she passed through, and stood there in her old
office in the Green Dome. The black spherical chair was turned away from her,
but as she stepped forward it turned, turned towards her. It came as a shock.
“What is that thing doing in my chair?” she
ejaculated angrily.
In the chair was the white membranic mass
of the Guardian, it throbbed a little as No.2 circled the chair, as she fronted
the desk she reached for the red ‘L’ shaped telephone.
“Number 2 here, tell me what this thing is
doing in my chair………it’s no longer my chair, well I realise that………….I simply
returned for a personal item………I’m due to leave in a few minutes, the
helicopter is waiting.”
Suddenly the mass of the Guardian began to
shrink ever so slightly so that it could float out of the chair. No.2 dropped
the telephone and backed towards the pair of blast proof doors. By the time she
reached the top of the ramp, with the Guardian increasing its size, she had expected
the doors to open, they remained closed. The Guardian drew ever closer then
came the noise, something crossed between the sound of a frogman breathing
through an aqua lung, a bicycle pump, Gregorian chant, and a roar. And within
moments it was upon her, she screamed and clawed at the membrane which
threatened to cover her face cutting off the oxygen, smothering her until she
ceased breathing and finally her body slumped dead on the floor. The Guardian
resumed its chair, which slid down through the floor into the blackness below.
Be seeing you
