Ducie by Chris Freeman
Chapter 3. Some time later
The word ‘Ducie’ had never been far from the thoughts of the British Prime Minister since he’d given the project his sign-off, but today the word made his stomach cartwheel with fear, the way your stomach tends to when the severity of a situation dawns. Ever since this project began he knew he was only ever one wrong turn away from a crisis. True to character, the Prime Minister kept his fears under lock and key, the way a tranquil, floating duck hides feet that paddle frantically below the water. This well practiced act was enough to convince everyone but himself that there was nothing to fear. Somewhere deep beneath these layers of hologram bravado however, lay an acceptance of the fact that things would never really be the same again from here. The whole project was out of hand. Way out of hand! Lex cursed his own naivety for allowing himself to become tangled up in all of this. He’d accepted the risks involved with such a flimsy, fragile venture were the price to pay for the chance of becoming the centrepiece of an historic milestone in human discovery. Easy to say now that it was a stupid thing to do, but the bright lights of eternal adoration can prove too much of a honey trap for even the most level headed amongst us, and for Lex that was no different.
As with anything sensitive in nature, Steve had kept the details of the project between himself and his trusted friend and Director General of the Security Service, Steve Towerbridge. Steve was a military man. Stout in presence and clinical with his words. He saw no use for emotions or niceties that didn’t serve towards achieving a goal. He’d been the PM’s right-hand-man in a number of sticky situations and they’d always found a way out. None like this though. None like Ducie. The Prime Minister massaged his brow firmly, as if by doing so it might somehow stir the ideas in his head into something more ingenious.
- We did the right thing Steve.
- Yes sir.
Steve’s affirmation was as to-the-point as ever.
- We did do the right thing, didn’t we Steve?
- Sir, we had no other choice.
- So what do we chalk these deaths up as? Collateral damage?
- It’s inevitable Sir. It was bound to happen sooner or later. We’ve done well to keep it contained this far.
- It’s hardly contained though is it Steve? We’ve caused havoc in 2 corners of the globe. Innocent people Steve. Innocent people suffering, not through war or through famine, but through….
The Prime Minister struggled for a description. Steve helped by finishing his sentence.
- Through science Sir. Progress and human evolution.
- Human evolution happens on its own Steve. There’s nothing natural about any of what we’re doing here.
- Sir, there’s no point dwelling on this. We’ve got to keep moving forward.
The Prime Minister ignored Steve’s advice and instead began scanning a manifest list in front of him. Names of people known to him not by sight, or acquaintance, or a handshake, but just as inanimate components of this dirty scheme he was embroiled in. One name leapt out at him.
Adam Trundle.
- Trundle. Trundle. Tr – undle.
The Prime Minister played with the word as if it were part of a new foreign language he was learning. He rolled it around his mouth and tried to imagine a face to put with the name.
He’d never met Adam. And now he probably never would. The Prime Minister pondered it for a moment and quickly came to the conclusion that not knowing the face of this man was probably a good thing. A good thing since this was the man that he had just ordered to be killed.