The Keeper. Part 1. An Invitation

Arthur gazed at him and then shrugged.

‘Fair enough, I suppose,’ he said, getting up. ‘Well, now you’re in on it, just stay quiet and hidden, ok?’

‘So, first impressions of the T8 facility?’ said his father, as Arthur joined him in the living area. He had just finished warming up the rice and fish that had been left for them, in the microwave. ‘Mmm, yum… tastes pretty good actually. Here, this one’s yours.’

Taking the plate he was offered, Arthur sat down at the little square table, which his father had already laid.

‘I don’t know. Pretty cool, I guess. It’s much bigger than I thought it would be.’

‘You can say that again. Did you get a look at those towers on our way in? I reckon they must be where they assemble rockets and such like. You know, ever since I was your age, I’ve always wanted to see a real space rocket.’

‘Do you reckon they’ll let us see one?’

‘Maybe. Who knows. I don’t see why not. Anyway, no harm in asking, is there? It’s the least they can do, all things considered.’

7

The Experiment

‘Hey, come on, rise and shine already!’ meowed the cat. ‘You don’t seriously think that you can hide under those sheets forever, do you?’

‘Ugh… I do actually… Now go away.’

‘Nope, not gonna happen. Come on, up, up, up.’

Arthur groaned and opened his eyes.

‘That’s it, a bit more… Almost there…’

‘Cat, zip it, huh? It’s way too early.’

‘Fine, but first let’s see how well you can sleep when you’re starving, now c’mon, look lively.’

‘Oh blast! I forgot to pack your biscuits, didn’t I?’

‘You did indeed! Lucky for you though, us cats are extremely versatile in these sorts of situations. So, if you could be so kind as to tot off to the kitchen and bring me back something tasty, I’d be ever so much obliged.’

‘Tasty?’ repeated Arthur, sitting up. ‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know. Like anything really. Well actually, anything except sausages.’

‘Sausages?’

‘Yep. Terrible things, sausages.’

‘Really? When have you ever been given them to eat?’

‘Well, never. But as none of you are any good at clearing away after yourselves, you’d be amazed at what I’ve tried over the years.’

Arthur grinned. It made sense when he put it that way.

‘Alright, fine, I’ll try and find you something,’ he said, dressing and heading towards the door.

‘And don’t forget to make sure it tastes good!’ the cat meowed after him.

‘Yeah, you said that already. And it shouldn’t look like a sausage—I know.’

‘Or taste like one!’

‘Morning,’ said his father, who happened to be standing right outside at the very moment he’d opened the door, making him jump. ‘What’s all this about sausages, then?’

‘Sausages? Oh, nothing,’ Arthur replied, feeling his face burning. ‘I was just, um, wondering if there’d be some for breakfast, that’s all.’

‘Were you indeed? And do you often talk to yourself about things?’

‘Me? No… Well, I don’t know, sometimes I guess…’

‘Is that a fact?’ He grinned. ‘Well, don’t tell your mother I said so, but I imagine that you get that from her.’

There were no sausages that morning. Breakfast was a much simpler choice of yoghurt, muesli and bread with cheese. Arthur, though, couldn’t bring himself to eat any of it. Constantly glancing up at the clock above the door, he was already far too nervous. Thoughts like: <<What if I can>>’<<t open it for some reason? What if it is all just a big waste of time?>> had begun to flood him with doubts. And unable to take his mind off them, he’d even ended up completely forgetting to fetch something for the cat. The cat, in turn, had threatened to start meowing at the top of his voice unless Arthur went back again and did exactly as he’d promised.

‘See, no sausages!’ said Arthur, returning and placing two bowls under his bed. ‘Now, don’t forget to hide in the pack if you hear someone coming, okay? And wish me luck! That lady’ll be here any second now.’

‘Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever,’ purred the cat, getting stuck into a bowl full of yoghurt.

Maria arrived, as she said she would, at nine o’clock on the dot, and escorted them through a series of walkways to a lab on the far side of the facility. Stuffed full of cameras and different arrays of equipment, the sense of excitement was palpable as they entered.

‘Good morning, good morning,’ said Dr Rubenstein, hurrying out of a side room to greet them. ‘And how are we all this fine morning? I trust that you both slept well. We’re just about ready for you, I think.’

‘Definitely a bit jet-lagged this morning,’ said his father, who was still nursing a large mug of coffee which he’d brought over with him.

‘Ah yes, of course. Plenty more of the black stuff in that room over there if you need it,’ said the doctor, indicating the room he’d just come out of. ‘Now, Arthur, as we’ve still got a few minutes before kick-off, why don’t I tell you what all of this is for?’ he continued, pulling a handkerchief from his pen pocket and mopping his brow. ‘So then, these sensor banks that you can see at intervals around the room, and all of those cameras which have been set up with them, are going to record not only what we’ll be able to see with the naked eye but also everything our eyes simply won’t be able to register. That data will then be processed by those big computer racks and sent for analysis in the control room on the other side of these glass panels over here.’

He pointed in the direction of a mirrored wall.

‘And how are you feeling in yourself? A little nervous? There’s really no need to be, you know. Just take your time and repeat whatever it was that you did to open the box in the first place. How does that sound?’

Arthur nodded. He wasn’t just feeling nervous – he was feeling completely nauseous.

‘Good morning, all,’ said the general, coming up behind them. ‘Everything set, Doctor?’

‘I believe so.’

‘Excellent, let’s begin then, shall we?’ And taking the box out of his pocket, he handed it to Arthur.

‘Right, two minutes please, everyone,’ announced the doctor, guiding him over to the square concrete platform in the middle of the room. Empty, except for a single chair in the centre. Arthur sat down on it and waited nervously.

<<Such a lot of trouble>>,<< >>he thought, turning the box over in his hands and gazing up at the mass of cameras pointing down at him from rails mounted to the ceiling. <<And all I>>’<<m supposed to do is say >>‘<<open>>’ <<three times. Unbelievable!>>