Rayne

During our lunchbreak I walked, worn-out and sweating through the Underground, following Leah’s directions to the Intelligence Centre. I decided to visit Mason and maybe get a bit more history on the Underground, maybe some background information on what was going on with the Governments. Also, if I was completely honest with myself, Mason was the closest thing I had to a friend here, and I needed something that vaguely represented friendship at this point. The Intelligence Centre was the most old-fashioned building in the city; large stonework arches and stained glass windows welcomed me into a large hall of polished oak floor, walls lined with portraits of previous department heads (of which there was a whopping three). Off the hall shot doors, leading into rooms which varied from warm, elaborate libraries that smelled of musty books, to rooms filled with row after row of steel filing cabinets, rooms full of computers, and at the end of the hall, a door more elaborate that the rest. It was on this door that I rapped my knuckles, and the pale, mousey face of Mason poked out, the skin under his eyes sore and bruised purple from weariness, his soft brown hair sticking up at odd angles. For the first time since meeting him I noticed he was wearing a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, that sat slightly askew on his face. His normally perfect clothes were dishevelled, and despite all this, when he saw me; Mason grinned lazily and drowsily, opening the door and ushering me in.
“Rayne,” he croaked, yawning and rubbing his eyes in a manner that caused his glasses to bob up and down comically. I smiled tolerantly and led him by the shoulder to a large red armchair in the corner of the room. Sitting him down I noticed that this room- Mason’s office judging by the desk at the back that was covered by papers and an open laptop- doubled as a meeting room. All of Mason’s possessions shoved to the back to make room for a large round table in the middle.
“What’s going on, Mace?” I asked him, bobbing down to meet his eyes.
Mason sighed heavily, slumping back into his chair. He looked up and smiled sadly at me, “I’m Mace now?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said gently, “no arguing now, tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I can’t do it, Rayne. I can’t. I just can’t. I’m not good enough. I’m not clever enough. I don’t deserve to be Intelligence Head because I am not intelligent!” Mason grabbed at his messy hair muttered curses under his breath.
“Can’t do what, Mace?” I asked, taking his hand and pulling it away from the hair he was so savagely clutching.
“I can’t do anything, Rayne. I can’t talk to Eris, I can’t find your father… I don’t even know his bloody name! I have been up all night-ever since I left your apartment trying to find a single scrap of information on him and there’s nothing.” Mason stood up now, and started pacing, “I can hardly talk to Eris normally, let alone tell her how I feel, all my crew are freaking out about the Apocalypse, everyone expects everything from me, right away. ‘Mason, find this out!’, ‘Mason, what does this mean?’, ‘Mason, decrypt this’, ‘Mason, analyse that’. I can’t do it. I’m not good enough for you all. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
I grabbed Mason by the arm, simultaneously halting his pacing and his apologising.
“Mason,” I said, “Breathe, relax, everything’s going to be okay. Sit down at that table with me and let’s work through this stuff together. Just… before my lunch break ends.”
He nodded, “Okay. Yes. Yes, right.” he strode to one of the chairs, pulling it out and sitting on it. I pulled out my own, spinning it around so I sat on it backwards, my folded arms resting on the chair’s back.
“First thing first,” I began, “What’s this about my father?”
“Well,” Mason stared at his nails, “You see, we can’t find him. There’s no man by the name of Hall recorded in our Government. Well… Nobody for two hundred and eighty-six orbits of the Earth around its star, at least.”
“T-two hundred and eighty-six years? Are you sure?” I felt a little sick to the stomach. My father had been lying to me?
“Positive. On top of that, the Jeremy Hall who died all those years ago, he was um,” Mason took of his glasses and inspected them closely, “He was convicted of mass murder.”
I swallowed hard, “How many?”
“The official number was twenty-six over three years, but our sources say that it could be considerably north of that.”
“How many?” I repeated, levelling my gaze with him. He wouldn’t meet my eye.
“Approximately ten people every year for forty-one years.”
My heart dropped to somewhere around where my stomach should be, and twisted as if it really had dropped into my stomach, and was being digested. “My father’s name was Jeremiah.” I whispered, “Bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?”
“But two centuries?” Mason asked, he looked at me with a pained, desperate expression.
“Okay, we need to move on from this one, but after training tonight, come to my dormitory and I’ll tell you everything about Dad.” I fought to keep my voice calm as my brain whirred at light speed, processing, analysing, comprehending.
“Yes, yes. You’re right again. Now. Now what was next? Eris?”
“Yeah, Mace. Eris. You don’t have to make a move now, Mace. I can’t offer you any advice. I’ve only been in one relationship before, and I was- obviously- not good enough for that person. I can’t offer you any advice. I’m sorry.” and I honestly was sorry. I bit my lip and looked at him, knowing his pain.
“It’s okay,” Mason said, but I could tell he was disappointed. It was written all over his face. I didn’t need the vision of a bird of prey to tell me that. We lapsed into silence, his morose, my own guilty. Neither of us looked to the other. I could almost feel the silence like a heavy blanket, and feel the seconds force themselves by unpleasantly. Surprisingly, it was Mason who shattered the uncomfortable quiet.
“You’re going to be late,” he whispered, “You’d better go.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, my gaze on the ground. I put a hand on his shoulder, as it was the closest thing to affection I was able to offer- the closest thing to comfort I could allow myself to supply, “Go home and get some sleep, Mace. Forget everyone’s demands. They can wait. I’ll see you tonight.” the only sound in the room was my footsteps as I left.