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Authors: Catherine Jinks
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be.’
Gazo laughed.
‘I mean it,’ Cadel insisted. ‘Informants get paid. Why not you?’
‘Because I don’t wanna get paid.’ Gazo flashed him a crooked half-smile.’ Remember back at the Institute? I wanted to graduate as some kinda stink-bomb superhero, and spend the resta me life taking care of people. Remember that?’
‘Yes. I remember.’
‘You fought I was pretty dumb, eh?’ As Cadel flushed, Gazo’s smile widened into a battered-looking grin. ‘Well, I
was
dumb. Back then. But now I’m getting a chance to do what I always wanted to do. I’m gunna use me special powers to take care of someone. What could be more fun than that?’
Cadel grunted. It made him squirm when he cast his mind back, and reflected on his former, dismissive attitude towards Gazo. Though Gazo wasn’t terrifically bright, he certainly wasn’t a negligible person. Cadel had come to realise that there were all kinds of qualities just as valuable as intelligence – despite what he might have been taught in the past.
‘Maybe you should start a security business,’ he suggested. ‘For celebrities and politicians.’
‘No, fanks.’ Seeing Cadel raise his eyebrows, Gazo elaborated. ‘I’d end up all over the papers. “Mr Stinky”, they’d call me. I’d
never
be able to pull any birds.’
By now they had reached John Lions Park, which was completely unoccupied; Cadel squinted across a well-worn patch of grass towards Coffee on Campus. There was very little to indicate that even a modest eatery lurked within the Computer Science complex – just a small sign suspended over a pair of glass doors. And when Cadel approached this sign, he realised that the cafe was shut.
‘Oh, God,’ he groaned, stopping in his tracks. ‘That’s right. They’re renovating. I forgot.’
‘So did I,’ Gazo admitted. ‘But you can still phone ’er, can’t you?’
‘Judith, you mean?’
‘
Oi! Hello
!’ A high-pitched hail made them both turn their heads in unison, as if their jaws were being tugged by invisible strings. A few metres to their right, Judith Bashford had emerged from the main entrance of K17. Beyond her, a wall of windows, sheathed in steel mesh, bore the words:
Bioinformatics
,
Computer Engineering
,
Computer Science
,
Software Engineering
. Sonja was nowhere to be seen.
‘You’re early,’ Judith announced. She was wearing one of her many-layered, brightly coloured ethnic outfits, complete with leather moccasins and beaten-silver bracelets. ‘We’re in here.’
‘The cafe’s shut,’ said Gazo, who had never been one to shy away from stating the obvious. Judith, however, didn’t roll her eyes or pull a face, as Hamish might have done. Instead she shrugged, as if resigned to life’s numerous disappointments.
‘Someone did tell me, but I forgot,’ said Cadel, moving past her into K17. On the threshold he was confronted by yet more signage – a white-lettered notice warning him that the area was protected by CCTV cameras – and this made him pause, for an instant. ‘Why did you come in here?’ he asked.
‘Because of the elevators,’ Judith replied. She then followed him into the building, with Gazo close on her heels; together they all squeaked across a glossy black floor towards something called the Student Office. Cadel couldn’t help glancingup at the two security cameras they passed on their way. One was trained directly on the front door, like a sniper’s gun. The other was positioned around the corner, in a lobby to the right of the main entrance.
It was here that they found Sonja Pirovic. She was sitting opposite a bank of elevators, but she wasn’t looking at them. Her gaze was fixed on a wall-mounted ‘HELP’ button, which had presumably been installed as some sort of security measure.
Cadel knew exactly what she was thinking.
‘What’s the point of a help button if you can’t even push it?’ he observed.
The sound of his voice triggered an immediate reaction. Sonja’s
Gazo laughed.
‘I mean it,’ Cadel insisted. ‘Informants get paid. Why not you?’
‘Because I don’t wanna get paid.’ Gazo flashed him a crooked half-smile.’ Remember back at the Institute? I wanted to graduate as some kinda stink-bomb superhero, and spend the resta me life taking care of people. Remember that?’
‘Yes. I remember.’
‘You fought I was pretty dumb, eh?’ As Cadel flushed, Gazo’s smile widened into a battered-looking grin. ‘Well, I
was
dumb. Back then. But now I’m getting a chance to do what I always wanted to do. I’m gunna use me special powers to take care of someone. What could be more fun than that?’
Cadel grunted. It made him squirm when he cast his mind back, and reflected on his former, dismissive attitude towards Gazo. Though Gazo wasn’t terrifically bright, he certainly wasn’t a negligible person. Cadel had come to realise that there were all kinds of qualities just as valuable as intelligence – despite what he might have been taught in the past.
‘Maybe you should start a security business,’ he suggested. ‘For celebrities and politicians.’
‘No, fanks.’ Seeing Cadel raise his eyebrows, Gazo elaborated. ‘I’d end up all over the papers. “Mr Stinky”, they’d call me. I’d
never
be able to pull any birds.’
By now they had reached John Lions Park, which was completely unoccupied; Cadel squinted across a well-worn patch of grass towards Coffee on Campus. There was very little to indicate that even a modest eatery lurked within the Computer Science complex – just a small sign suspended over a pair of glass doors. And when Cadel approached this sign, he realised that the cafe was shut.
‘Oh, God,’ he groaned, stopping in his tracks. ‘That’s right. They’re renovating. I forgot.’
‘So did I,’ Gazo admitted. ‘But you can still phone ’er, can’t you?’
‘Judith, you mean?’
‘
Oi! Hello
!’ A high-pitched hail made them both turn their heads in unison, as if their jaws were being tugged by invisible strings. A few metres to their right, Judith Bashford had emerged from the main entrance of K17. Beyond her, a wall of windows, sheathed in steel mesh, bore the words:
Bioinformatics
,
Computer Engineering
,
Computer Science
,
Software Engineering
. Sonja was nowhere to be seen.
‘You’re early,’ Judith announced. She was wearing one of her many-layered, brightly coloured ethnic outfits, complete with leather moccasins and beaten-silver bracelets. ‘We’re in here.’
‘The cafe’s shut,’ said Gazo, who had never been one to shy away from stating the obvious. Judith, however, didn’t roll her eyes or pull a face, as Hamish might have done. Instead she shrugged, as if resigned to life’s numerous disappointments.
‘Someone did tell me, but I forgot,’ said Cadel, moving past her into K17. On the threshold he was confronted by yet more signage – a white-lettered notice warning him that the area was protected by CCTV cameras – and this made him pause, for an instant. ‘Why did you come in here?’ he asked.
‘Because of the elevators,’ Judith replied. She then followed him into the building, with Gazo close on her heels; together they all squeaked across a glossy black floor towards something called the Student Office. Cadel couldn’t help glancingup at the two security cameras they passed on their way. One was trained directly on the front door, like a sniper’s gun. The other was positioned around the corner, in a lobby to the right of the main entrance.
It was here that they found Sonja Pirovic. She was sitting opposite a bank of elevators, but she wasn’t looking at them. Her gaze was fixed on a wall-mounted ‘HELP’ button, which had presumably been installed as some sort of security measure.
Cadel knew exactly what she was thinking.
‘What’s the point of a help button if you can’t even push it?’ he observed.
The sound of his voice triggered an immediate reaction. Sonja’s
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