Elodie sat back in her chair and running her fingers through her cropped hair she looked away from the flickering, computer screen and around the bar. Even though it was only 3 p.m. it was over half full, the air filled with the hum of voices chatting over coffee and the rattle of backgammon dice.
Elodie decided she’d done enough for now and logged herself out of the computer, before stretching and yawning luxuriously.
She knew it was time she left the area. Once the last couple of hours of her work was picked up on, they’d soon trace it back to this computer address and before she knew it they’d have all routes out of Amsterdam cordoned off and road blocked.
She scooped the pile of 2 Euro coins at her elbow back into her bag and rubbed her eyes again, trying to clear her pixilated vision.
One thing she could definitely not afford at this moment was unnecessary risk or complacency.
She’d read this morning’s papers without too much surprise. It was as she’d suspected, the raid in England had not been isolated but part of a co-ordinated strategy, and the Society had been raided throughout its European headquarters, the members, including her parents, held for questioning.
Elodie spun her chair around away from the row of partitioned, grey PC’s and reached into her donkey jacket pocket for her newly bought stainless steel pipe and plastic bag of opiated hash. The effects didn’t agree with her, her normally sharp mind becoming inclined to pointless rambling and the only way she could hold a sense of urgency and counteract the lethargy was with continual cups of black coffee.
Still, if a drug-clouded mind was what it would take to avoid detection, it was a sacrifice worth making. Elodie loaded the pipe yet again, smiling to herself at the irony of the situation. Here she was, Elodie Sauveterre Dubois, the girl who’d dedicated her entire life to purifying her mind and body ready for this moment, sat in a bar in Amsterdam, stoned out of her mind. But worse than that, not only was she, the last of the twelve at liberty, forced to conceal her vibration in a drug-induced fog, but the role of crystal bearer had fallen into the hands of her untrained and infatuated, clueless neighbour.
She drew hard on the pipe, holding the smoke in her lungs for several seconds before exhaling and then reached for the remains of her last double expresso which she gulped back.
Elodie stood up, squeezing into her bulky leather and donkey jacket combo and picking up her full face helmet. Outside, on the street, U-locked onto a lamppost, Elodie could see her purchase of this morning; a scruffy, matt-black Harley Davidson. As soon as she’d seen it she’d loved the look of its shiny twin cylinders, single leather seat, and the smooth line of its chromed mudguard. It was an old bike that had been reconditioned and rebuilt and despite the price, she’d bought it instantly. Now, she knew, was not the moment to quibble about a few thousand Euros.
... Here was another thing her mother could be grateful to Jean Louis for, after all, hadn’t he taught her how to ride his trials bikes around the woods and meadows of the Chateau estate?
Elodie pulled the U-lock carefully through the spokes of the back wheel and stowed it in her shoulder bag. She put her helmet and gloves on, swung her leg over the bike and kicked the side stand up. It would be good, she thought, to see a bit of open road, especially after so many hours of staring at a screen and tapping feverishly at a keyboard. She turned on the petrol supply, pulled out the choke and pressed the red starter button as she’d been shown. Instantly the engine caught. It sounded good, deep and throaty. She pulled out slowly into the traffic, turning left at the lights onto Herengracht and following the canal away from the city centre.
There were so many things she didn’t know, so many possible problems. She wondered how Paul was managing. He obviously still had the crystal but quite how he’d find Alesia and hand it to her, she didn’t know. Yet despite these worries, Elodie felt good. As the bike engine opened up, the tarmac streaking by beneath her, Elodie knew it was all up to her. If everything she’d been taught about the crystal was true, if it really was the one thing that would free human society from the imposed frequency of control, then it was imperative she carried out her plan and succeeded in helping Paul evade capture.
The Commander: December 17th.