The Resistance

than his desk. The sun was throwing vibrant colours into the sky as it made its descent – as he watched it, Richard felt the delicious glow of triumph wash over him. The new House Matron of Grange Hall was proving very amenable. She asked no questions, delivered the goods, and was pretty to boot. Richard couldn’t ask for a better business partner. Meanwhile, he was sure now that he could convince Peter to do what was required of him at the conference; afterwards, if he caused problems, Richard would deal with him. Him, the Surplus girl, and that vile little brother of hers.
    He closed his eyes, allowing the soft leather of the seat beneath him to soothe his aching muscles, to cocoon him for just a few minutes; a moment of peace before Hillary arrived, before he carried out potentially the most important sales pitch of this half of the century.
    But as he opened his eyes, an unfamiliar sight greeted him. Darkness. Low, emergency lighting along the floor.
    Immediately he jumped up. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ he shouted, charging into the corridor like a bull into the ring. ‘Where are the lights? Why are these doors open? What’s going on?’
    A guard approached, his face white and shaken.
    ‘It’s a problem with the Energy Centre, sir,’ he said nervously.
    ‘Problem? I’ve got a visitor from the Authorities arriving any minute,’ Richard snapped, taking out his phone and dialling a number. He could feel his face getting red, could feel his heart pounding in his chest. ‘Samuels? What the hell is going on?’
    ‘It’s the energy system,’ Samuels said, the tension audible in his voice. ‘It’s being rebooted.’
    ‘Rebooted?’ Richard asked, his eyes flashing with anger. ‘Now is not the time to reboot the system. Stop it. Stop it now.’
    ‘I’m afraid we can’t. Seems there’s a glitch in the system. A faulty connection. Rebooting it should solve the problem.’
    ‘A glitch?’ Richard barked angrily. ‘This is Pincent Pharma. We don’t have faulty connections. We don’t have faulty anything. What is this glitch?’
    ‘I’m afraid I . . . The precise details are currently . . . It’s not entirely clear why . . .’
    ‘You don’t know?’ Richard thundered.
    ‘No, Mr Pincent. But I’ve got men working on it. Please be reassured that the energy will be restored immediately.’
    ‘If it isn’t, you will be sorry,’ Richard threatened darkly. ‘You and every other person I come across. You will be more sorry than you ever thought possible . . .’
    He stopped, staring ahead, wide-eyed. Then he shut off his phone and put it in his pocket.
    ‘Hillary. You’re early. You’re . . . here.’
    ‘Yes,’ she said smoothly, dismissing the guard who had brought her up, with one flick of her hand. ‘And no one seemed to mind me waltzing through the lobby and up to your office. Would you like to tell me exactly what’s going on?’

Chapter Twenty-One
    Peter hadn’t been able to get home to see Anna; the blackout had resulted in emergency security measures being imposed and no one was allowed to leave the building. Nor could he reach Anna on the phone; he tried and tried but no one answered. Instead, he and Dr Edwards were left in their lab, twiddling their thumbs, waiting for energy to be restored: all nonessential activity had been shut down, the identi-card system had stopped working, and emergency lighting was on, emitting a low light throughout the building that made each room and corridor feel strange and alien.
    ‘You want to see the drugs being made?’ Dr Edwards asked. ‘The real hub of production?’
    Peter looked up, still preoccupied with thoughts of Anna. ‘I thought it was out of bounds,’ he said vaguely, remembering his first tour of Pincent Pharma, the peek at the ‘finishing area’ he was allowed, but no more. ‘I thought it took months to secure a pass for the production area.’
    Dr Edwards shrugged, his eyes twinkling. ‘It does, usually. But the security system is down, isn’t it? Seems like quite a good time to me, bearing in mind your news. And nothing else in the building is working, so there isn’t much else to do.’
    ‘OK. Sure. Let me just try Anna one more time.’ He dialled the number but no one picked up; a few minutes later, Peter reluctantly followed Dr Edwards out of the lab.
    They made their way to the production side of the building, passing through door after door that swung open disconcertingly instead of remaining solidly