Page 42 of The Lost Zone (Dark Water #3)

Chapter Twelve

Alex

There was a long silence. Alex stood there, facing the mirror, waiting.

Maybe he’d got this wrong. Maybe nothing was behind these mirrors but bare walls, but he didn’t think so.

The silence continued. Had he said the wrong name?

Did he really think it could be Gideon? Were they laughing at him for his stupidity?

At this point, he didn’t know what to think.

For all he knew, this whole thing had been set up by Tyler, and Tyler himself was the mysterious A.

How long should he stand here looking like an idiot? Was this just paranoia on his part? Had his loneliness and the stress of his situation sent him over the edge? Anyone looking at him waiting for an answer from a mirror would think so. Seconds turned into minutes, yet still he stood there.

“I’m not going anywhere until I speak to Gideon,” he said firmly. “I won’t eat, or drink, or co-operate in any way until then.”

Was anyone listening? Were his words sending people scurrying into action in hidden rooms? Or was he talking to himself?

He sat down on the floor, hummed his song, and felt his mask settle over his features. He stared at the mirror impassively. He could do this all day if he had to. What else did he have to do anyway?

An hour passed. Then another. His stomach was growling but he was determined to stick to his guns.

His mind wandered. He remembered that time he’d been crying after the staff gave him the Christmas present, and C had arrived fifteen minutes late for his morning check-up.

Had that been deliberate, to allow Alex the time and space to weep?

If so, did that make C the most likely candidate?

Another time, he remembered being in the dining room, about to tell the indies his name, and Four had interrupted him. Had that been deliberate, to keep everyone anonymous?

Yet the name he’d blurted out just now was Gideon, perhaps because he wanted it to be him the least.

He tried to quieten the frantic voice in his head, with all its doubts and confusion. He sang the words to his song, letting them soothe and comfort him.

Another hour passed. Was he prepared to sit this out all day? All night? For a week? How long before he gave up and retired sheepishly to the dining room for some food.

“I mean it,” he said. “I’m not moving.”

He wasn’t expecting an answer, but the speaker in the ceiling suddenly, unexpectedly, crackled into life. “Very well, Alex.”

Alex’s stomach flipped. So, he’d been right about the mirrors at least. They had been watching him. What about that voice? Was it one he knew? He couldn’t tell. The speaker rendered it fuzzy.

“You know where to come.”

Of course he did. He’d walked around this building many times. He’d climbed up and down the stairs, wandered all around the grounds, and roamed the endless long corridors. He’d poked into every room and explored every nook and cranny until he knew the place upside down and backwards.

He knew the modern extension at the back of the house was where A worked and possibly even lived.

It could be accessed from the main house, via a long corridor on the ground floor.

Slowly, his belly full of butterflies, he walked out of the dorm.

His footsteps clattering loudly in the empty house, he trotted down the stairs to the ground floor.

He walked down a corridor, turned right, went down a few steps, rounded a corner…

and there, at the very end, was the door that held all the answers.

Barely breathing, his heart beating so loudly it seemed to reverberate off the white walls, he inched along the corridor.

Now the moment had come, he was almost afraid of what he might find.

Maybe a part of him wanted A to be Gideon, so he could see his friend again, although surely A was no friend of his.

Didn’t it make more sense that it was C, though?

Or even Four? Or nobody at all that he knew.

He was overthinking… It was out of his hands. He breathed deeply and hummed his song.

He reached the door and paused outside. It was always bio-locked – tugging on it had never worked in the past. Now, though, the lights that had previously always glowed red were all green. Alex grasped the handle and pulled.

The door swung open easily and he found himself in another corridor, with another door at the end, also protected – although by a mechanical lock this time, a failsafe, Alex supposed, in case any unauthorised person made their way through the first one.

This door also opened easily the second he pulled its handle…

and he blinked as he found himself in a brightly lit room, an office with empty chairs and workstations, various half-drunk beverages on the desks hinting that its occupants had only just left.

There was only one person here. His short white hair was gelled to his head and neatly parted down the right-hand side.

He was wearing a pair of wide-legged white trousers and an elegant maroon-and-white-checked shirt, with a matching maroon cravat tied with perfect élan around his neck.

He stood when Alex entered the room, watching him keenly.

“Ah, my dear Alex,” he said urbanely. “It’s only been a few days, but I’ve missed you.”

Alex stood in the doorway, unmoving. “Good to finally meet you at last – A,” he said softly.

The man smiled. “There’s no need for any formality between us, Alex.

Please call me Gideon. Now, let me show you to my control room, so we can be more comfortable.

As you can see, I’ve cleared the office of my staff, so we can be alone, and I’ve taken the liberty of calling for a nice afternoon tea, so that we can relax and have a good chat. I’m sure you have many questions.”

He led Alex through the empty office to a spacious room off to one side. Alex stepped inside… then stopped, looking around in shock.

The walls were covered with screens, each of them showing various rooms in Belvedere: the gym, the rec room, the dining room… and the dorm, where he’d just been sitting. He’d been right; the mirrors did contain hidden cameras, judging by the angle of the footage.

There were other strange curios around the room, too.

All his drawings were here, the ones he’d given to the staff, and those he’d given to his fellow indies.

They were all pinned to a huge noticeboard, except one…

the one of Gideon dressed in top hat and tails as he did his yoga practice had been blown up to three times the original size and hung, framed, above a large sofa.

Gideon followed his gaze and smiled. “We all love your pictures,” he said. “But I especially adore this one. How beautifully you draw.”

“Did you take their pictures away from them?” Alex asked sadly, gazing at the sweet little drawing of D.

“Oh, heavens, no. They were all given copies that are indistinguishable from the originals. I couldn’t let them have the originals, but everybody wanted a copy as a little memento of one of our most charming students.”

“Me?” Alex snorted. “Charming?”

“Absolutely. You’ve been quite a favourite and undoubtedly the most unique student I’ve ever had the pleasure to teach. Most are dull, stupid, or boorish, but not you.” Gideon sat down on the sofa and gestured Alex to the armchair opposite.

Between them was a large coffee table with a pot of tea on it, a plate of sandwiches and some scones. Plates, cups, and saucers, made of bone china and covered in a fussy pink floral pattern, completed the oddly incongruous scene.

Alex sat down warily, searching Gideon’s face for some trace of the man he’d known for the past few months. The hair and clothes were different, but the quiet confidence, the elegance, and the old-fashioned manner of speaking were all the same.

“Was it all a lie?” he asked miserably.

“Absolutely not,” Gideon said firmly. He poured them both a cup of tea.

“Do help yourself to food. The scones are warm – that’s the only way to eat them, in my opinion.

You must be quite hungry after all those hours of waiting to see if I’d respond.

I was considering the options and possible outcomes and discussing them with my team.

This was a little unexpected at this stage, but we know how bright you are, so there was always a chance you’d figure it out. We had plans for all eventualities.”

“What was there to discuss?” Alex took an egg sandwich.

“Well, I was apprehensive about you meeting me as A. You felt fondly towards Two, and we’d built up such a lovely rapport.

I knew that would be ruined if you knew the truth.

However, C felt there was little point in prolonging the subterfuge, and that we could move forward more honestly and directly this way. ”

“C’s a psychiatrist,” Alex guessed, sitting back in his chair.

“A psychoanalyst,” Gideon corrected. “He is a medical doctor, too, but his real talents lie elsewhere. He’s been my eyes and ears on this side of the wall.

We had regular discussions about you during Two’s daily medical treatments, and at various other times in the day when you and I were apart.

Alex, please believe me, the intention has never been to hurt you but to understand you. ”

“Well, newsflash – I’m hurting,” Alex admitted with a pained smile.

“Of course you are. You’ve been deceived and betrayed by people you liked and trusted. Anyone would be hurt.”

“You could have just talked to me,” Alex muttered. “Why such an elaborate charade?”

“I very much doubt you would have told me about the manner of poor Solange’s death, or the way Tyler acquired your contract, if you’d believed I was working for him,” Gideon replied flatly. “Hmm?” He picked up his spoon and stirred his tea, one leg crossed elegantly over the other.

Alex gave a grudging nod. “To go to such lengths, though.” He waved his hand at the monitors. “Just for one indie.”