Arrows of Time - Kim Falconer [131]
Grayson stood at the edge of the concrete walkway, letting his eyes wander. Monoliths towered above his head. He could see no stars in the glare, only a haze-brown between the cracks of the skyscrapers. The buildings stood like sentinels, lit up to their knees by burnt orange streetlights, an unnatural colour that neither attracted bugs nor created shadows. Their barred windows obscured any activity inside, if indeed the rooms were occupied. A breath of wind pushed rubbish along the gutter, a plastic bag catching on the base of a nearby lamp pole. It struggled for a while, fluttering in panic before it was suddenly whisked away in another direction.
A peel of thunder cracked overhead, the lightning flash turning everything a blue-white, making the buildings appear double their height. Among the refuse piled in black bags under a public transport sign, a man slept, his face hidden, his hands gnarled and twisted like old tree branches. Cockroaches crawled out of his cuffs.
‘You’ve beaten death?’ Grayson asked.
‘We have,’ Everett smiled.
Grayson shook his head. ‘Amazing.’ He followed him onto the monorail, sitting in the seat behind him. ‘I need to take Rosette home,’ he whispered. ‘You’ve got your ways here, and I am grateful you’ve kept her body in suspension, but I can’t let you keep her like that any longer. She will not be a donor, in any case. Her DNA won’t match. Hasn’t your pathology department picked up on that yet?’
‘Rosette.’ Everett said the name as if it were the only word Grayson had uttered. He sounded like a man who had been starved his whole life for it, and had only just realised.
‘I’m going to need your help,’ Grayson went on, leaning forward. ‘Are you listening to me? I have to get her out.’
‘What does it mean?’ Everett asked, his eyes soft.
‘It means I need you to…’
‘Not that. What does the word Rosette mean?’
Grayson gripped the back of the seat. ‘Rose. It means rose.’
Everett shook his head. ‘I’ve heard of it but never seen one, of course.’
Grayson relaxed his hands. ‘It’s a plant. The blooms have many petals. Deep crimson. Incredible scent.’
‘I’m no historical botanist. What are the medicinal qualities?’
Grayson looked down. ‘The rose, it’s said, alleviates pain of the heart.’
‘An anodyne?’
‘Similar.’
When the monorail stopped, Everett was already at the door. Grayson didn’t understand the rush until he saw a flood of people coming on board behind him. They swarmed inside, all wearing grey coats, collars turned up, hair slicked back. It was difficult to distinguish the sexes. No one smiled, or frowned or yawned or laughed. They simply poured in—straight backs, straight faces. He got off the train as quickly as he could.
‘Where to now?’ Grayson asked, keeping close track of Everett as they squeezed through the crowd waiting on the platform. It was like pushing upstream; his shoulders were knocked and buffeted, but not a face turned towards him, not a word was spoken. No one talked. Some coughed, or cleared their throats as if swallowing blades of grass.
Everett didn’t seem to notice the eeriness of it all. ‘I’ve got to sedate Canie again and get back to work. You can’t stay here. You’ll be seen.’
‘By whom?’ Grayson looked at the sea of people ignoring him. He felt invisible.
‘Security,’ Everett whispered.
‘Security?’ Grayson followed him into the elevator and Everett nodded his head towards a camera in the corner. When they entered the man’s apartment, Grayson spotted another camera in the main living area.
‘Audio?’ Grayson mouthed the question.
‘Not with my advanced student rank.’
Grayson’s eyebrows went up. He was careful not to step into range of the camera.
‘I have an idea,’ he said. ‘I’ll take Canie back to the park and wait for your shift to end. You can’t keep doping the dog. It’ll kill him.’
‘I can’t let him be seen.’ Everett nodded towards the camera.
‘Is that the only room wired?’
‘That, and the bedroom.’
Grayson frowned. ‘Leave it