I had one more test but had to wait for the right conditions. As it got closer to midnight, pedestrians became fewer and fewer. Finally, I saw a man in grubby clothes weaving his way toward me. He’d walk on the sidewalk for a while, trip into the street, trip back onto the sidewalk, and generally stagger his way towards me. I moved so that I was in his view, hovered three feet in the air, and waved my hands. He didn’t notice a thing. I opened the lid, his eyes got big, and he collapsed onto the ground in what appeared to be a dead faint. I left him snoring. Interesting!
# # # # # # # #
From Izzy's journals: Sunday, October 1, 20 days to the wedding.
By cross-referencing geographical data from two separate bots, I was able to determine that the traitor was in our base camp. I knew in my heart that the traitor was Phlegm, but I had no way to prove it.
I couldn't squeeze any more information out of the bots; didn’t know what to do next. What would Will do? I decided to pretend he was here; couldn’t do any harm; would make me feel better seeing him even if only in my imagination; wrangled a trip to the woods from my guard.
Wake up, Will. I began throwing clumps of dirt into his sling. That wasn’t a particularly nice thing to do, but there were no pinecones where I was sitting.
What do you want now? I put a touch of exasperation in his voice, as though he had been sleeping. Will doesn’t wake up in a good mood.
Need your help. Do you mind?
Grumble, grumble… No, that wasn’t right. Will wouldn’t grumble. He’d be willing to help. Try again.
OK, I’ll help you Izzy. Will grabbed a handle attached to his sling and was on the forest floor before I knew it. I copied your idea, Izzy. I’m working on some other inventions now too.
There was no point in asking him what those inventions were. I wouldn’t know what words to put in his mouth; might as well get right to the point. I’m in trouble, Will.
Will got those two cute little creases in his forehead that showed he was thinking. Then, they disappeared. He walked right over to me, pulled me into his arms, and gave me a passionate, searing kiss. While I was lying back in his arms trying to catch my breath, he reached out a hand, grabbed a vine, and we began swinging through the jungle. I could feel the tickle of a beard against my cheek. What are you doing? I sighed into his ear.
Taking you away from here.
Whoa! Whoa!! Whoa!!! First, I did not want Will to kiss me. Second, even if I did, and I’m not saying that I did, Will is not the kissing type. Third, I would not be lying back in his arms. I’d be scratching his eyes out. Fourth, where did Tarzan come from? Oh, I remember. Story time in class. OK, that explains that part. New fourth, Will would not have a beard. He didn’t even have any whiskers a few months ago. Fifth, I don’t like beards. Militants wore beards! Sixth, well sixth was all right. I did want to get away from here but that was impossible. Flying through the air at the end of a vine with Will was impossible too. Get a grip, Izzy! Try again!
Will, I’m in trouble. I need you to help me figure out what to do. I don’t want you grabbing and kissing me. No swinging through the jungle at the end of vines either, OK?
There are no vines in Alberta, Izzy, and I’m not the kind of person to be grabbing and kissing you. You’re the one who kissed me and you got away with it only because you surprised me. That’s a perfect example of you being weird. You’re weird, admit it!
Am not!
Are too!
There. That was better.
Will, I know a DPS informant is in our camp. I have DPS records of his existence. I’m sure that it’s my fiancé Phlegm, but I can’t prove it. I know Phlegm has a stash of banned substance in a storage cabin in camp, but I can’t prove that it’s his or that he’s using it for recreation and for poisoning dear mother. He also has a stash of something, probably DPS money, buried somewhere outside of camp. I don’t know where that is. I can’t search for it because I have a guard confining me to camp. How do I prove Phlegm’s the informant?
Will got these two cute little creases... Get a grip, Izzy!
Will looked up at me with two disgusting furrows in his face. You can’t formulate a course of action when you don’t have enough data, Izzy. You need to find out more about Phlegm. Try to predict what he’s going to do next; then, slowly but surely set a trap for him so that you can get that information without him finding out.
Thanks, Will.
Don’t bother me again.
He wouldn’t say that. Would he?
“Who wouldn’t say what?” Wannabee was leaning up against a tree, looking at me with this bored look on his ugly face. “Why were you throwing all those mud clumps around?”
“Just day-dreaming. I like sitting in the forest.”
“Clem won’t like you being outside of camp. We have to go back now.”
“You don’t have to guard me all the time.”
“Clem says you’re his little woman. DPS would go after his woman. He’s not going to let that happen. Clem says you should get used to seeing me around a lot.”
# # # # # # # #
From Will's journals: Sunday, October 8.
I had spent a couple of days getting used to being invisible in my sky-sling. I practiced walking and running through the woods in it, I practiced escapes, and I even tried swimming in it. It felt weird swimming without getting wet.
Last Friday, I went back to Rocky Mountain House and practiced moving around in the daytime. I had to make sure that I was invisible in bright sunlight. Nobody showed any signs of seeing me. I worried about rain and snow. I’d be a bubble of dryness.
I found that it was impossible to maneuver in crowds. I had a real body. I couldn’t let people bump into me or they would notice that. Also, it was really hard to enter a building. I couldn’t just pull the door open because people would notice that. I could sneak in immediately after someone else had opened the door but I had to be careful not to tread on his heels; also, it was dangerous if a person was following the first person. Moving around in a building was treacherous. Hallways were far too narrow. I resorted to floating along at ceiling level.
Getting into locked rooms was tough. It was impossible if people have been trained to close the door firmly behind them. They’d close the door with their hand on the handle and that would block me from following. It was easier if the door closed automatically on its own, but if a security guard were present, he might see the door staying open longer than it should have. I figured I’d be able to get away with it because even if the guard checked, he wouldn’t see anything.
Izzy disagreed. At least, I think she would have.
You see, I was accustomed to going full bore into a chess match and wearing the opponent down with offensive power. That wasn’t going to work against the DPS. They had the power; I didn't. Instead, I’d have to use strategy. I’d have to be sneaky. Sneaky like U-Know-Who. So, I pictured Izzy in my mind and asked her questions if I wasn’t sure about something. She had told me that I absolutely had to avoid moving around in crowds. I had been the one to think about floating along at ceiling level, but I had seen her nod as soon as I tried that. Now, these locked rooms were causing a problem.
Izzy, should I just hold the door open and not worry about the guard seeing it?
Izzy was lying in her hammock, probably listening to her music bot. She looked up when I interrupted, gave me a little smile, and answered. Your invisibility is your secret weapon. If you give the DPS even the slightest hint that you have it, you’ll lose your advantage. They’ll think of a way to detect you.
How could they detect me?
She shrugged. You’re the science man, not me. But if I were a smart DPS guy, and strange things were happening in my building, and I knew that a Z-man was loose, I’d connect the two. Would you be able to slip through wire-mesh?
No.
Pretty cheap solution too. She waited for me to respond. When I didn’t, she went back to her music. I could hear her singing softly. It was not an unple
asant sound.
I listened to her sing for a while and then interrupted her again. Izzy?
How did I get to be your personal Ask-me Service? I’m busy here.
I bit off my You don’t look busy to me response. She wouldn’t refuse to help. Try again.
Izzy?
What, Will?
That was better. I need to be able to get into locked rooms. If there’s a punch-code, I’ll just wait to see what the code is and then come back when nobody is around. But, what should I do if there’s a key lock and a guard present? I don't have enough time to slip in the room either before or after the person entering the room.
She had to think about that too – that made me feel better. At least I hadn't missed an obvious solution. She got these two pretty little wrinkles in her forehead so I knew she was thinking, not ignoring me. She wouldn’t ignore me.
Go in when they come out? It was more of a question than an answer.
I pictured it in my mind. When people come out of a door, they’ll stop outside, turn around, and shut the door. They take longer to get out.
And you don’t have to worry about treading on their heels.
I’ll have to be right above the top lip of the door ready to slide in as soon as it opens.
She nodded.
I’ll be in an empty room all by myself. I could stay as long as I wanted.
She nodded again.
Leaving could be a problem. I wouldn’t be able to slip out when a person came in; if I tried to follow him out of the room, I’d be treading on his heels again. What’s the point of getting into a room if I can’t get out again?
Just because you came in by the door doesn’t mean you have to leave by the door.
Sure I do – the room has only one way in and one way out.
Does not.
Does too.
Izzy was back to listening to her music when I figured it out. Air vents, I said to her.
Bingo.
Could I use them to get in too?
Possibly, but you might not be able to find your way to the room you want on your first time in the building. Plus, not all rooms have ceiling vents that will allow you to see if the room is empty. You don’t want to be lifting ceiling tiles when people are in the room.
I was about to say Thanks and stop pretending, when she interrupted my thought.
Will? Air vents are dusty. Don’t sneeze. Don’t leave any crawling marks – they may have cameras in them now.
Got it. Anything else?
If you go into a dark room, don’t turn on a light.
I’m not that dumb!
Might be.
Might not!
Aren’t you’re the one who thought that Angelou’s poem was about a bird?
# # # # # # # #
From Izzy's journals: Sunday, October 8 to Friday, October 13.
Determined to become a most dutiful wife for my esteemed husband-to-be, I decided that I would explore Phlegm’s cabin – strictly to see if I should be making any plans to change his interior décor. Phlegm and his buddies were carousing in the woods when I was inspired with this housewifely motivation. Wannabee’s wife was watching my cabin but she wasn’t very good at it and I was able to slip out easily.
With a conference room, storage room, visitor bedroom, and master bedroom, the cabin was bigger than all the others in the compound. Found a solid lock on Phlegm’s bedroom door and I didn’t see a way to get in through the ceiling. The location of his bed was critical to the success of my plan and I didn’t think that I could just ask Phlegm to give me a tour. “Can I see what colour pillows you have on your bed, Clem?” Yeah, that would work.
# # # # # # # #
Monday night: I made a return visit to Phlegm’s cabin after midnight. The wall separating the visitor’s bedroom from Phlegm’s bedroom was constructed of solid sheets of thick, artificial wood that were held in place by screws on the visitor side. I happened to have a screwdriver with me this time. Discovered that Phlegm’s bed was on the far side of the room from the visitor’s bedroom! Great! An early morning entry through this wall was possible, although dangerous.
I did a quick search of Phlegm’s bedroom but hadn’t expected to find anything incriminating with Wannabee’s wife cleaning his room weekly. Before leaving, I drilled a peephole in the wall between the two rooms, concealed it as much as I could, re-positioned the wall panel, and returned to my cabin undetected.
# # # # # # # #
Wednesday night: I waited for the moon to rise before sneaking out to the privies in full camouflage gear minus war paint. If asked, I was going to say that I always slept in camouflage gear in case we were attacked at night. I didn’t expect to be believed. My poor little head must have been all filled up with plans for my upcoming wedding because I accidentally stepped on some dry branches. Twice. Wannabee’s wife finally noticed. Ooopsy.
# # # # # # # #
Friday night, October 13: Doc came to my cabin intent on discussing the wedding. He started by telling me that there were only eight days left – a totally unnecessary reminder. Then, he asked me why I was still here. Told Doc that I was going to expose Phlegm; told him about my plan but didn’t say that Will had helped; didn’t want Doc questioning my sanity.
Doc was worried about the danger. I had to admit that I had no reasonable explanation if I was caught – but I did have a special tooth in my mouth. Doc got madder than I had ever seen him before; demanded the crown back. I refused. Doc became like smoking volcano trying to dislodge big granite plug.
First time ever that I didn’t want to be around Doc. He made me go through what I suspected about Phlegm; asked "Can you prove this?" to everything I said. I had to say "No" each time. Doc said that Phlegm would have an explanation for any accusation I made; I had to agree. Doc said I had no credibility with anyone in the camp except him; I had to agree. “Why are you still here?” Doc asked again.
“I have to expose Phlegm.”
“It won’t make any difference if Phlegm is the dissident leader or if he is replaced. The dissident movement will still be run by a wacko.”
I told Doc that I refused to quit; couldn’t quit; wouldn’t quit; Grandmother wouldn’t have quit; I wouldn’t either.
Doc became very agitated; told me that the movement was doomed; moderates were almost all gone; DPS forces were now catching supremacists a few at a time; militants would soon control the movement; did I really want to be part of that? Then, Doc got this look in his eye and held up his hand to stop me from answering. I saw him thinking.
I did the same.
We agreed. The traitor hadn’t been passing general information to the DPS; he had been passing a Capture now list. Moderates had been on the top of the list previously; now, the supremacists were being captured. I wondered out loud if supremacists with young daughters had been specially targeted? Would Phlegm really do that? Neither of us knew the answer. Both of us knew the answer to how long I would be needed after the supremacists were outnumbered.
Doc asked if knowing now what Phlegm was doing would help me get proof; I had to say "No."
“Leave tonight. I’ll distract the guard,” Doc returned to his theme.
“No place to go,” I said. Was true; paid DPS informants were everywhere. I wouldn’t survive long with no job, no money, and no food.
“What about U-Know-Who?” Doc asked.
“No way of finding him.” I didn’t want to tell him that Will wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me after what I had done to him.
“And if you can’t expose Phlegm and have to go through with the wedding?”
I mimed biting down on the crown of my tooth.
“What if you do expose him? What will you do then?” Doc was almost yelling at me, but in whispers. Doc had never gotten mad at me before; had to hold back tears.
Shrugged. Didn’t state the obvious; leave and get caught by DPS; stay and wait for Phlegm to turn me over to the DPS. What’s the difference?
“You can’t throw away your life for nothing!”
Shrugged; didn’t say that exposing Phlegm WAS something, even if it was only important to me. It would prove that I wasn’t a coward. I remembered a Dylan Thomas poem; thought it was one of Doc’s favorites; he seemed to be especially moved by it when I was studying it; changed Thomas’ ending a bit.
“I will not go quietly into the night,” I told Doc. “I will rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
Doc said he wouldn’t let this happen twice and stormed out. That made no sense but I wasn’t making much sense by then either.
Back to the Table of Contents
Chapter 19
From Will's journals: Monday, October 16.
Getting into the DPS building in Edmonton was time-consuming for the workers since security guards checked everyone’s ID in minute detail. But, because they didn’t want to keep opening and closing the main doors for each person, they just left them open and I floated above the line-up and into the building.
Most of the building was full of large offices with cubicles carved out of the open area. Doors into these offices had punch-locks that I could solve if I wanted to. That would be a low priority, I think. I wanted to find the computer data-storage room.
I found it on the top floor. There were armed guards at the elevator, at the stairway exit, and spaced out along the corridor. Nobody got onto the floor without a pass. Coats of any kind and briefcases/packs had to be left at the security station by the elevators.
Only two hallway doors were on the floor. Both doors displayed big signs: Top Security: Restricted Access Only. I watched for a while. Everyone was entering the same room so that made me think I should go into the other room. I had to wait a long time to gain access. The two armed guards on that door never left their post except to change shifts hourly with two other guards.
Only one man entered the second room the entire day. The guards at the elevator’s security station just looked at his gold brain-band, saluted, and let him proceed without asking for a pass. He walked to the hallway door and stood staring at the guards. The guards had him sign his name on a clipboard – he used an indecipherable scrawl that had already appeared many times on the page.
The door had two locks. The guards had one key, the man the other. Both keys had to be put into the locks and turned at exactly the same time for the door to be opened. The man took a half step into the room, held the door open with his right hand, turned on the lights with his left, and waited. I took that opportunity to glide in. Flicking the lights on caused an alarm to sound, which prompted every guard in the hallway to pull out a weapon. The man nodded in approval and entered a code that turned off the alarm. I memorized the code although I doubted that it would save me. The man closed the door behind him and I heard the locks re-engage. He went directly to a filing cabinet and pulled out a file. A single wooden table with two uncomfortable-looking chairs was in the center of room. He slipped his suit coat onto the back of one of the chairs, sat down, and began reading.