The Great Game

If you’re new to the Great Game, please have a quick look at the blurb to your left, where you’ll find a short catch-up introduction.

I went through the door into a dazzling hi-tech wonderland. The lights were down low, but the various screens and displays more than made up for it. … There had to be at least thirty people at work, and a steady mechanical grinding noise cut through the general chatter.

I stood there gawping for several long moments, before I noticed Travis bearing down on me from the direction of the light-globe. I nodded to him respectfully, and went to meet him.

“Archons,” Travis said. “Hello, Taylor.” He looked at me for a moment. “Are you alright?”

I nodded, and said “Um, Archons?”

“The nine chief magistrates of Rome, during the empire. More recently, leaders or figures of authority, and then high-ranking angels. Really can’t say that I like the symbolism, but I suppose we had to call our mystery fuckers something, and that appears to be the nom du jour, thanks to one of the chaps in the lab. All brain and no common sense. You look pale, man. Are you about to pass out?”

“No sir. It’s just been a strange morning.”

“Good,” said Travis. “I want you to get onto the trail of the corpse you retrieved that sample from. Let’s see if we can’t get ourselves a bit more to work with. I’ll show you to your desk.” He led me through the room to a disappointly normal looking work area towards the back, and waved me towards it. “You can get in with the same log-in credentials you used at the DSP. In fact, best stick with that cover for now. Your stuff is in the bag.”

“Right. Thanks.”

“Don’t look so glum, man. I will let you play with the shiny toys once we can spare the time to train you on them.”

“Yes sir. Thank you.”

He nodded to me and strode off, so I sat down and had a look in the plastic bag. I was amazed to see my jacket and tie in there, along with my DSP badge and communicator, my watch, my credit cards,  my blank glasses, and even the candy bars and impromptu disguise kit I’d bought the night before. I didn’t know whether to be grateful or creeped out, so I contented myself with putting on my various bits and pieces. I noticed a piece of paper in my jacket pocket when I put my glasses away; it was a parking stub, which probably meant my car was downstairs somewhere too.

I decided to settle on grateful. It seemed safer.

Once I was settled, I fired up my screen and logged in. The system looked similar to the DSP’s, so it was easy enough to navigate. I had a stack of messages waiting, all sent to my DSP ident. It took about twenty minutes to scan through them. Most of them were variations on “I heard about the office, are you OK?”

None of the messages seemed particularly pressing, so I put a call through to Cadogan Place.

A woman answered within a couple of seconds. “Cadogan Place Security Center.”

“This is John Taylor, DSP. I’d like to speak to Officer Mortimer, please.”

There was a pause. “I’m sorry sir, Philip Mortimer has not reported for work this morning. Can anyone else help you?”

“Has he called in sick?”

“I’ll put you through.” The operator clicked off, and a moment later another woman came on line. She sounded deeper and wearier. “Yes?”

“My name is John Taylor, with the DSP. I understand that Officer Mortimer isn’t in work today.”

“Carole Allen. You understand correctly, Agent Taylor.”

“Do you know if he’s ill?”

She sighed. “So you don’t know anything, then.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Two thirds of the Centre has failed to show, Agent Taylor. I haven’t been able to contact any of them. I hoped you had some information.”

“Shit.” All sorts of nasty possibilities leapt to mind. “Can you send me a full list of today’s no-shows?”

She took a sharp breath. “Apparently I can, sir. I’ll get on it immediately.”

“Thanks.”

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Today’s picture is Globe of Light by Scribbletaylor