In an underwater world sealed off from its past the Keel could never be anything but incongruous. Its rust coloured walls were neither steel nor glass. They were formed from individual oblongs of rough artificial stone pasted together and one on top of the other, cracking and crumbling with the pressure of too many years. There were bars over the windows and a glut of weeds bubbling up from the footpath stretching their washed out leaves towards the artificial sky. Great fountains of rose pink sandstone lay hidden beneath a monstrous meadow that had once been a terrace for entertaining politicians, actors and other icons of a bygone age. Amongst them the statues of artists, thinkers, poets and scientists regarded each other through the wavering grass as though wondering why time had forgotten them. The inhabitants of The Deep no longer wanted to be reminded of their past. It was the elephant in the corner that no one wanted to mention. No one talked openly about why the Keel was different from the other buildings or what kind of world its builders had left before they had retreated to their kingdom beneath the waves. The motto in The Deep was to live for the now. Unless of course you were mentally unstable. Then there were a different set of rules to play by.
“Adela? Are you there? Please speak to me.”
On the wide and spacious pathway leading up to the Keel an elderly man of maybe sixty or seventy years stood pressing his ear to his gauntlet, listening hard for that hoped for response. It never came. He knew she was there though. They’d implanted a tracking chip in her after she’d vanished the last time. He could see its bright red signature flashing onscreen so he knew she was definitely in the house.
He rubbed his creased forehead and muttered softly to himself. She had gone too far this time. He was going to have to call for help. With the type of uncertainty that came with his age he punched the code into his gauntlet then waited for the other person to pick up. He shuffled nervously back and forth on the uneven pavers until he heard a man’s voice.
“Dad?”
“Hi Carl…yes I’m ok. No, no. Everything’s fine. I’m just in a bit of a fix here. It’s your sister, she’s gone off the rails again. I’m afraid she’s in the Keel.”
“What? You’re kidding me?”
“No. I wish I was. I’m outside the building right now. But I daren’t go in on my own what with it being off limits and all.”
“No, don’t. Sit tight. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
While he waited, the older man sat down on the front steps where the overgrown lilac trees would hopefully shield him from view of those on the road. He fussed with the creases in his navy slacks and kept looking over and over again at the red flashing light on the gauntlets screen. She still hadn’t moved. His fears feasted on his love for her and grew exponentially. Time dragged. His agitation increased. He began to wonder what she was doing in there and what the consequences would be when it was discovered by the authorities. And there was no doubt it would be. The surveillance drones were bound to have spotted her entering the building and him sitting on the steps. There were no clever little cover stories that could explain away their presence this time. This time they would have to tell the truth. Adela was sick. His one and only daughter, who he loved more than life itself was a D-lude.
“So…I’m supposed to believe that you’ve told me everything,” sneered police officer Crane. His thick neck was flushed red and the vein in his temple grew ever more prominent with each passing minute. He leaned on the desk in front of him and eyeballed the girl’s father as though daring him to utter a lie.
“Dad has told you everything,” Carl replied defensively. His cuffs were chaffing and he was ravenously hungry having missed breakfast to come to the aid of his father.
“It’s ok son. I’ll handle this.”
“That’s an interesting turn of phrase Mr Sheldern.”
A woman stepped out from the shadows, a disarming smile gracing her lips. She was dressed all in black. A practical solution Carl supposed, so nothing showed. Policing could be dirty work.
“Do you ‘handle’ situations like this often?” she asked, lightly. Her fingers tested the top of their chairs for dust. There was none. She seemed mildly approving of that.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
His voice echoed off the bare walls. Their paint peeled in sloughing curls.
“Really?”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes you do. I’m talking about your daughter, Adela. Does she pull stunts like this often?”
He took a deep breath and leaned back in his poorly padded chair, trying to create the illusion he was at ease. If he was relaxed then maybe they would be too.
“She’s free spirited, that’s all. There’s no harm in her.”
“That’s not what I asked Jim and you damn well know it. Once again – does she do stuff like this often?”
She’d thrust all niceties aside now and was breathing down his shirt collar, her teeth gritted behind scarlet lips and nostril flaring imperceptibly. She was trying to force him into giving a rash answer. But he had to think carefully before he spoke. He didn’t want to incriminate anyone, especially those who’d been good enough to help them in the past.
“She’s done a few stupid things, yes I admit. But who hasn’t?”
She gave a nod and Officer Crane stepped forward and used his forearm like a club to bash him across the face. He went flying in a tangle of flapping navy suit and chair legs, blood flowing from his crooked nose. He wiped it away with one arm and the other he raised in readiness to fend off further blows.
“This is outrageous!” cried Carl, jumping to his feet. “Have you any idea of who my father is?”
“No. And I don’t fucking care,” answered Crane, turning his attention to him. He kneed him between the legs and shoved him back in his chair before his knees even had chance to buckle. A pained groan escaped his lips.
“Now,” said the woman, manhandling the other Mr Sheldern back to his chair. “Perhaps you might want to rethink your answer. Has Adela ever done anything else remotely aberrant over the last five years? And I warn you. Give another smart answer and your son will be mopping you up off the floor.”
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