Autumn Vault

From the Autumn Vault, the next thrilling installment.......

 

He was falling down a great metal tube, passing through rings of lights. Then he realised

he was floating, almost flying in a strange sort of way. He could feel air currents all around him,

holding him up, slowing him down. He shot out of the floor of the parliament building and landed

on his feet and hands, leaning back, looking like a crab, or a crazy Cossack dancer. Quickly, he

stood up, and looked round, expecting to be the centre of attraction and steadied himself for the

rush of reporters. No-one took any notice of him. He wasn't sure whether to feel

disappointed or relieved. At least his briefcase hadn't burst open. He tucked his shirt in

and pushed a hand through his tangled hair.

Someone coughed.

A man stood up from behind a long curved desk with the word RECEPTION

wrapped around it in black, bold letters. He held up his hand and motioned Murdoch to

approach with a bend of his fingers.

"Mr Murdoch, I presume."

"Yes."

"You are late."

"Am I ?" Murdoch held up his arms. "I couldn't read the start time. Bodger got to the

letter first."

"Bodger ?"

"My dog."

The man shook his head and made a tutting sound. "Such are the perils of

communicating by paper. Still, your circumstances have changed enough for you to

become "wired up" as they say."

"Definitely," agreed Murdoch, although the receptionist wasn't listening to him.

Instead, he was reaching down.

On the desk were five small signs : LABOUR, LIB DEM, SNP, CONSERVATIVE

and INDEPENDENTS. A badge lay beneath the last sign. Even upside down he

recognised his face, and a sort of word.

He frowned.

It couldn't be.

"Donald Murdoch, agent of H.I.C. Has a sort of James Bond ring to it."

Murdoch took the badge. His face leapt out of the holographic panel, grinning like a

madman. Were his teeth really so big, so white ? He shook his head. H.I.C. "I can't wear

this."

"It's merely a temporary badge. Moira will sort everything out for you."

"Moira ?"

"Your personal assistant. Moira Indi 4 to be exact."

"Where do I find her ?"

The receptionist pointed. "She's over there. Waiting."

Murdoch nodded. "Thanks."

He turned round and headed for the other end of the foyer, past the metallic statues

forged in strange ballet-like poses. There were three women in front of him, all dressed

identically. He was so busy wondering which one was Moira that he didn't notice one of

the statues jump down beside him until he was tapped on the shoulder.