asked, his profession having made him curious about how things got from there to here and back again. It felt as though this was yet another loop the porters were being cut out of. Roker would have a fit.
‘Yesterday. Wyck decided he wouldn’t be sending his techs out to fix them any more. Says it’s safer this way. People are being robbed out there and there’s not enough security to go around.’
They were waved through the gates and wound in silence through the hallways, every office full of clacking sounds or people arguing. Mission saw electrical parts and paper strewn everywhere. He wondered which office Rodny was in and why nobody else was having their food delivered. Maybe his friend was in trouble. That was it. That would make sense of everything. Maybe he had pulled one of his stunts. Did they have a holding cell on thirty-four? He didn’t think so. He was about to ask Jeffery if Rodny was in the pen when the old security guard stopped at an imposing steel door.
‘Here.’ He held the tray out to Mission, who stuck the letter between his lips and accepted it. Jeffery glanced back, blocked Mission’s view of the door’s keypad with his body and tapped in a code. A series of clunks sounded in the jamb of the heavy door. Fucking right, Rodny was in trouble. What kind of pen was this?
The door swung inward. Jeffery grabbed the tray and told Mission to wait there. Mission still had the taste of milk paste on his lips as he watched the Security chief step inside a room that seemed to go back quite a way. The lights in-side pulsed as if something was wrong, red warning lights like a fire alarm. Jeffery called out for Rodny while Mission tried to peek around the guard for a better look.
Rodny arrived a moment later, almost as if he were expecting them. His eyes widened when he saw Mission standing there. Mission fought to close his own mouth, which he could feel hanging open at the sight of his friend.
‘Hey.’ Rodny pulled open the heavy door a little further and glanced down the hallway. ‘What’re you doing here?’
‘Good to see you too,’ Mission said. He held out the letter. ‘The Crow sent this.’
‘Ah, official business.’ Rodny smiled. ‘You’re here as a porter, eh? Not a friend?’
Rodny smiled, but Mission could see that his friend was beat. He looked as if he hadn’t slept for days. His cheeks were sunk in, dark rings under his eyes, and there was the shadow of a beard on his chin. Hair that Rodny had once taken pains to keep in style had been chopped short. Mission glanced into the room, wondering what they had him doing in there. Tall black metal cabinets were all he could see. They stretched out of sight, neatly spaced.
‘You learning to fix refrigerators?’ Mission asked.
Rodny glanced over his shoulder. He laughed. ‘Those are computers.’ He still had that condescending tone. Mission nearly reminded his friend that today was his birthday, that they were the same age. Rodny was the only one he ever felt like reminding. Jeffery cleared his throat impatiently, seemed annoyed by the chatter.
Rodny turned to the Security chief. ‘You mind if we have a few seconds?’ he asked.
Jeffery shifted his weight, the stiff leather of his boots squeaking. ‘You know I can’t,’ he said. ‘I’ll probably get chewed out for allowing even this.’
‘You’re right.’ Rodny shook his head as if he shouldn’t have asked. Mission studied the exchange. Even though it had been months since he’d last seen him, he sensed that Rodny was the same as always. He was in trouble for something, probably being forced to do the most reviled task in all of IT for a brash thing he’d said or done. He smiled at the thought.
Rodny tensed suddenly, as though he’d heard something deep inside the room. He held up a finger to the others and asked them to wait there. ‘Just a second,’ he said, rushing off, bare feet slapping on the steel floors.
Jeffery crossed his arms and looked Mission up and down unhappily. ‘You two grow up down the hall from each other?’
‘Went to school together,’ Mission said. ‘So what did Rod do? You know, Mrs Crowe used to make us sweep the entire Nest and clean the blackboards if we cut up in class. We did our fair share of sweeping, the two of us.’