Ray Sullivan publishes science based fiction adventures on Amazon, Smashwords, Apple iBookstore, Barnes & Noble, Sony, WH Smith and other good eBook retailers as e-books. Additionally all of his books are available in paperback on Amazon. He also muses on technology, posts comedic books in serial format and discusses the world of self publishing.
Books written by Ray Sullivan
Monday, 17 December 2012
Parallel Lives chapter 33
Looking out of his office window, Sam pondered the twists
and turns of the day. The approach by that grey shit Martin was totally
unexpected. Sam wasn’t a fool, although he knew he had acted like one recently.
While he was glad to be back on the Project, on ‘probation’ Martin had called
it, he felt that it wasn’t his expertise that was being summoned. It was this
unknown factor that had left him with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He had
known as soon as Martin phoned, suggesting he pop over for a chat, that he was
going to be offered a second chance; or third he thought, considering the
original Project. He had wanted to challenge the logic of the decision, to pull
the real reason out of the man, but he knew he’d never succeed. So he had let
it pass, graciously accepting the offer. All he had to do now was await the
formal invite to Fylingdales or wherever Staples was when the call came.
Then there was that woman, demanding information on
Staples. That had thrown him initially, he knew nothing about her and her
arrival was totally unannounced, much as the grey shit’s had been. He would
have to talk to the hospital security about that, anybody could walk into this
unit it seemed. And many of Sam’s patients weren’t the most predictable or
safe; far from it. And many had good reason to dislike him considering the
diagnoses he made on them.
Sam thought back to his meetings with John Staples. He
hadn’t alluded to any close friends or relatives, in fact he fitted the profile
perfectly as far as the preliminary interview could deduce. Level three
candidates, by their early twenties, would tend to alienate themselves from
conventional associations except for basic survival. It was considered that
many of the homeless and the recluses of this world, depending on their
individual luck, would be Level three-ers. Their experiences would prevent them
from forming reliable, consistent relationships, their multiple memories
providing conflicting feelings about individuals they had met before. This was
part of Sam’s theoretical work, his domain.
And she was some work, considering she was late thirties,
thought Sam. But fiery, and he had little doubt that she meant what she said.
He also didn’t doubt that she and her husband would continue digging; he had a
legitimate reason to enquire about members of his workforce and might not be
thrown off so easily. But Sam felt he had avoided the traps well; sure she left
pissed with him, but he had avoided guiding her to another region they could
investigate, and nobody could consider canvassing all of the hospitals, nursing
homes and clinics in the country.
Not that many would reveal that information one way or
another, he thought. And that was worrying, because she had said they had
covered every hospital in a ten mile radius of Warrington. Probably not a large
number, thought Sam, and there’s no knowing how they defined hospital. But the
fact is that most decent hospitals wouldn’t confirm or deny without some
reasonable proof of relevant relationship. Even if they lied through their
collective arses they should have had a couple of non-committal statements and
probably more. So how could she be so convinced Staples wasn’t in any of these
hospitals, the ones surrounding Warrington? Unless she hadn’t approached any is
how, he thought. If she had, she wouldn’t have been so certain of her facts,
which implied she knew he wasn’t at any of them without having to ask them.
Which probably meant she knew where Staples was all along.
Sam sat up, bolt upright, in his chair as he came to this
conclusion. He realised he could be way off beam, and for the moment he
couldn’t understand how she could know where Staples was, but he couldn’t take
that risk. The call had to be made.