The Seraphim Sequence

Chapter 2-2

Jay’s vision cleared. He rubbed his nose and rolled over. Damien was standing at the end of his bed.

‘Um, how long have you been here?’ Jay said.

Damien didn’t move. ‘I watch you every night.’

Jay cleared his throat as noisily as possible. ‘Most people buy me a drink first.’

Damien eyed the empty whiskey glass in Jay’s hand. ‘Most people don’t have to.’

He walked out.

Jay dropped the glass on the floor and located some clothes. His limbs were heavy and it felt like someone had emptied a bag of rocks inside his head. He found Damien in the lounge room, staring out the window of the balcony he never used.

‘You’re here early,’ he said.

‘Aren’t you normally out surfing at this time?’ Damien said.

‘I quit.’ Jay walked into the kitchen and filled the percolator with coffee. ‘Got bored of it.’

Damien was grinning. ‘It’s only been three days.’

Jay ignored him. ‘Thinking of taking up windsurfing. Coffee?’

Damien shook his head. His hands were in his pockets. ‘We need to talk.’

‘Sure.’ Jay put the percolator on the stove and gestured to the couch. ‘So … is this a job?’

‘Didn’t you just get back from one?’

‘A week ago. I told you.’

‘Sorry, I lost track,’ Damien said.

Jay crossed his arms. ‘So it’s not a job. Girlfriend problems? No, can’t be that. Erection problems? I mean, when you’re in front of the computer.’

‘Not exactly.’ Damien sat on the edge of the couch. Not a good sign.

Jay looked around the apartment. It was almost as empty as it had been when Jay had moved in a few months ago. Decoration ended at a couch and table. He’d told Damien he hadn’t gotten around to paintings or a television or anything yet, but the truth was he couldn’t be bothered.

Jay waited. He really needed to piss, but he didn’t want to delay this any more.

‘We haven’t been compromised, have we?’ he said. ‘You run the same route every morning. You know that’s stupid, right? But you keep doing it.’

Damien shook his head. He dug into a pocket and offered him something. Jay leaned forward to find a Christian cross hanging from a fine gold chain. He plucked it from Damien’s hand and let it hang.

‘I’m not religious,’ he said.

‘Your father was.’

Jay’s stomach turned. He was mostly sure it wasn’t the hangover. He placed the necklace on the coffee table. ‘Do I want to know where you got this?’

‘Nasira.’

Jay didn’t have a response ready. ‘How do you know that?’ he managed.

‘I ran into her.’

Jay licked his lips. ‘I thought they were killed in America.’ He swallowed.

Nasira didn’t matter any more. He was happy she was alive, sure, but it didn’t change anything.

‘What’s she doing here of all places?’

‘They left America not long after we did,’ Damien said. ‘They’re in Australia now.’

‘They?’

Damien shrugged. ‘Nasira, Sophia, Benito. Whoever’s left.’

Jay shook his head. ‘Great. And how did she find you?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Bullshit.’

Damien stood upright. ‘I let her find me, OK?’

Jay didn’t know what to say. ‘Why? That’s my first question.’

The percolator started bubbling.

‘We’re looking for work, right?’ Damien said. ‘That’s why you let me in.’

‘You let yourself in.’ Escaping to the kitchen, he took the percolator off the stove.

‘With a lockpick.’

‘Keep doing that and you’ll f**k up my lock.’

‘Then give me a key.’

‘Only when you stop talking to strange women,’ Jay said. ‘That’s my job. And as far as Nasira’s concerned, I’m not going down that road. I’ve made that mistake once, I’m not making it again.’

He poured two cups, added a little something extra to his. He turned around, surprised to find Damien at the other side of the bench. He almost spilled coffee on himself.

‘It’s your road,’ Damien said.

‘Not any more.’ Jay sipped both cups to figure out which one was his. ‘Here.’

Damien took his cup. ‘You’re adding rum to your coffee now?’

‘I like the taste.’ Jay sipped his coffee and winced. He didn’t.

‘Seems like every time you come back from that sandpit you drink more,’ Damien said. ‘What was the job this time?’

Jay pushed past him. ‘Security. Narcotics facility in the Stan.’

‘You may as well just join the Fifth Column again,’ Damien said.

Anger bristled inside Jay. He clenched his teeth to suppress it. ‘Maybe I will. Maybe I’m done with this joint.’

‘There are better things out there,’ Damien said.

‘Like what?’

Damien opened his mouth, but said nothing.

Jay wasn’t even sure he knew what he wanted any more. When he was still in the Fifth Column, part of Project GATE, he’d had a greater purpose. He’d been assigned to an assortment of operations, each diverse and unique; had undergone frequent training. He knew now it was a charade, that he’d been serving the strategies of men who could hardly be called human. But at the time it’d felt good to be a part of something magnificent. Doing it all on his own was harder. He had to rely on his own devices, on his own path.

Damien didn’t seem to have that difficulty. Sure, he was lonely, and Jay was pretty sure he hadn’t been laid in three years. But he seemed to be doing just fine as a civilian.

‘It’s all I’ve ever known,’ Jay said. ‘I actually liked it.’

‘Nasira wants to speak to you,’ Damien said. ‘To both of us.’

‘About what?’

‘Sophia needs help. Recon on some installations. Nothing too dangerous, just gathering some intel.’

‘Boring,’ Jay said. ‘Why us?’

‘She needs someone who can get close enough without being seen or heard,’ Damien said. ‘Not exactly many people out there who can do that.’

‘You’d have to be crazy even to give Nasira the time of day. She tried to kill me once. You do remember that, right?’

‘When a great ship is moored, it’s safe from the storms,’ Damien said. ‘But that’s not what great ships are built for.’

Jay nodded. ‘That’s actually pretty nice. Where’d you read it?’

‘On a billboard on the way here.’