Page 73 of The Circle

“We aren’t carrying any, bru,” I tell him.

He looks at me skeptically. I don’t say anything more. I’m quite interested to see if this oke is the type who will ask questions. He stares at me. I can tell he wants to know why or confirm if I’m lying. I can tell he wants so badly to question me that it’s gnawing at him deep in his innards. The internal struggle to query me is painted on his face, giving him away. But, at the last, he simply says…

“Wonderful.” He’s been trained well. Someone has instructed him to behave in the same way I would have instructed him myself. “Then I shall escort you to your cars.”

“Cars?” I ask. “Plural?”

“Yes. You and Mr. Fortnight shall ride in the lead vehicle with myself and your driver, and Ms. Keene and Ms. Watson’s driver shall follow with them behind.”

“No fucking way,” Danny says. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Fortnight. Perhaps I misrepresented the arrangement. It is not part of any negotiation. It is what is happening.”

I feel Danny start to move forward. I take him by the leather of his jacketed arm and pull him back. “That doesn’t work for us, man,” I tell the suited Austrian whose name I have decided could not possibly matter less. “We’ll not be coming with you if that’s our only option.”

He contorts his mouth in that way someone’s does when they’re trying to convey their regret at having to repeat bad news. “I am truly sorry, Mr. van den Berg, but, again, this is not a debatable point. For what it’s worth, there is nothing sinister about it. It is simply because there are four of you and, for your comfort and safety, we wish to transport you in the outlined manner. You are welcome to hold onto your mobile devices and are free to maintain contact with one another as much as you wish. I assure you, we did not go through the effort and expense of bringing you all here to do anything… unseemly… at this juncture.”

It’s forthright. It’s anticipatory. It’s candid. It’s kak. Even if he is telling the absolute truth, I am not comforted by it. Because there are any number of other ways we could be delivered to… wherever it is we are going. This isn’t about our comfort and it’s certainly not about our safety, it’s about continuing to illustrate to us that we are not in charge. And the formation is curious. Picking Christine and Eliza to be transpo’d together. And me and Danny. It could be arbitrary, but the likelihood of anything being arbitrary falls somewhere in the realm of negative integers.

But my hands are, as they say, tied. I’m in no position to seize control. So, I flash glances to the other three, letting them know that I’m aware it’s far from ideal but I don’t see an alternative, and say, “Yeah, all right, man. Lead the way.”

He smiles, appearing relieved, and starts off down the platform. We follow him in the direction of the now low-hanging sun and as we’re just about to pass through the exit to the outside world, I glance back over my shoulder to see the silhouetted shapes of Nigel the conductor and Nigel the butler standing just beside the train, watching us go, and am overtaken by an unclassifiable feeling of dread. Which is not at all what I want to be feeling.

So, I slap myself out of it mentally.

And I feel myself start.