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.

Damn it. The whole place was empty.

I opened the front door, picked up the window, and propped it back in its hole. Then I had a second look around the apartment. There were no hints of a struggle, no obvious signs of preparation for a journey, nothing to suggest anything particularly out of the ordinary had happened. I went back into the lounge, and sat down.

I had several options. I didn’t really want to go back to the office empty-handed, but there didn’t seem to be anything going on here apart from a strange atmosphere, some funny ticking and a couple of security guys with fairly spartan lifestyles. I couldn’t see any point in talking to neighbours — no-one ever ’saw anything’ in a rat-nest like this, whatever they actually saw — and Cadogan Place obviously had absolutely no clue what was going on.

That left the alley at Devonshire and 8th, where I’d left Mortimer the evening before. I spent a few minutes re-hanging the window properly so that the place wouldn’t be picked clean, and left the estate. The feeling of being watched had subsided, which was nice. I got back to my pod, and told it to take me back to the alley. Then I closed my eyes, and settled myself down to try working a burr of unease out from the back of my mind.

When the pod pulled up a few minutes later, I was starting to feel calmer, if no more enlightened. I stretched, shook some circulation back into my hands and feet, and got out of the pod.

Well. I got half-way out, before settling back into my seat.

The first thing I did was get the pod to call up a locator display. I looked at it for a moment, looked out of the open door again, and frowned. Next, I opened a channel to Control, and was reassured when they answered immediately.

I looked out of the window again thoughfully. “Control, do you have a fix on my pod’s current location?”

“Yes, Lieutenant Taylor.” The woman sounded totally neutral. “You’re sitting in it.”

I ground my teeth together. “Yes. Do you know its street location?”

“The east side of Devonshire Road, 50 yards south of the junction with 8th Avenue.”

“Has my pod been at this location before in the last 24 hours?”

She paused for a long moment before replying, and when she did, there was a hint of patient concern in her voice. “Yes, Lieutenant. You were within 3 yards of that spot approximately 17 hours ago.”

“Thank you, Control. Hold one moment, please.” I closed my eyes, pinched the bridge of my nose, and tried not to sigh.

Last night, I’d pushed through the milling people and made my way to the mouth of the alley that ran down between a Gyros take-away on one side a cheap electronics mart on the other. This afternoon, the entire area was fully occupied by what looked like the offices of a bland finance corporation.

“Control, can you please verify the presence of an alleyway on the west side of Devonshire for me, 10 yards closer to the 8th Avenue junction?”

The pause this time was unmistakable. Eventually, she said “Very well, Lieutenant.” There was another pause, and then, “Unable to verify that, Lieutenant. Location you describe is on record as the area headquarters of Associated Banking Group.”

“I see,” I lied. “How long has ABG been at that location?”

“Four years.”

“I understand. Thank you, Control.”

“Lieutenant, please report to a registered medical centre for screening within 180 minutes.”

“As you wish, Control.”

The connection closed. I glared at the banking group’s office for several seconds. Nothing changed. I swore bitterly.

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Today’s photo is Insurance Building by Teofilo.