Too old to care

Chapter 4: Finding One’s Bearings

The sun was rising on the horizon, casting its golden light across the silent hills through the window. 

Lyutsifer set his steaming cup of tea down on his desk, his eyes ringed with dark circles fixed on his computer screen. It had been a short night; his sleep haunted by nightmares of his past. Heracles. Madeleine’s blonde hair glinting in the sun as she looked at him with disgust. The missiles. The cold. The loneliness.

A movement drew his attention to the screen. The CCTV feed from the guest room, where Line had been moved the previous day following their ‘little discussion’. Lying on the huge futon taking pride of place in the centre of the room, she had woken up, observing the pile of clothes and the food left beside the bed. 

It had been agreed that Line would be monitored but not restricted. It was the only way to truly understand what she wanted… to study her… His words still echoed in Lyutsifer’s mind.

It’s you… 

Why did she think he’d invited her to join the Heracles project on the island? 

The snow had started to fall again, and Line had dragged herself out of bed. She looked around before heading over to the window to watch the snowflakes dancing. Was she looking for a way out? Lyutsifer tensed, ready to intervene.

The young woman remained like that for several long minutes, motionless, watching the snow fall. Lyutsifer raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of tea. Why wasn’t she looking for a way out? 

She moved again, picking up the tray of food and tea left for her, returning to face the window and settling into one of the armchairs beside the fountain. Line had leaned over to sniff a small bowl of rice and picked up the chopsticks provided. Her grip was clumsy, forcing her to try again several times before she could take a small bite, which she savoured. Her tray was emptying, but she hadn’t touched the teapot.

“Interesting…”, muttered Lyutsifer as he took out a notebook and began to scribble in it. 

His notes were scrawled in a hurry, his gaze darting back and forth between the paper and the screen. She wasn’t trying to escape, yet she remained wary. Capable of spotting sedatives in a drink, did she know she was being watched?

He looked up at the screen and froze. She was staring straight into the camera. Then she stood up, walked over to the bed where she picked up the pile of clothes left for her, and stepped out of the frame to go into the bathroom. Lyutsifer had refused to install cameras in the bathroom, despite Mikhail’s protests; Mikhail was of the opinion that they should not let the young woman out of their sight. 

The clock struck ten. Lyutsifer rose from his desk to go to the laboratory, as he did every morning to ensure his staff were working properly. On his desk, he left his notebook: 

12 November:  Not looking for a way out  Didn’t drink any tea Watching the snow Did she look at the camera?

The hours ticked by, the snow fell. Lyutsifer had asked for all non-essential meetings to be cancelled so that he could continue observing Line.

13 November:  Still watching the snow She hasn’t tried to get our attention Regularly looks at the camera for several minutes She likes the fountain Seems prone to nightmares

At three o’clock in the morning, Lyutsifer switched off his alarm, slipped on a dressing gown and made his way to his desk. His notes were scattered amongst the files, screenshots of chats and emails… The screen was still on. He ran a hand over his face, sat down at his desk to skim through his notes, before fixing his gaze on the screen once more.

Line was lying on the bed, clearly restless. She tossed and turned, over and over, before waking with a start. She ran a hand through her hair and stayed like that for a long while. Then she got out of bed and stood up; the teapot was still there, cold since that morning. She hadn’t touched it all day, no doubt for fear of being sedated. She poured herself a cup, sat down in front of the fountain and drank. 

14 November:  seems to be suffering from sleep problems smiled when she found the lilacs after going to the bathroom tidied the bedroom moved the futon closer to the window doesn’t like carrots Why is she always looking at the snow?

“Boss.”

Mihkail’s voice snapped Lyutsifer out of his thoughts; he set down his pen, clearly taken aback. 

“We can’t just sit back and do nothing. You’ve cancelled several important appointments; the staff are wondering why you’re not doing your rounds. You’re hardly sleeping at all,” stated the bodyguard in a monotone voice. “We need to do something about her.”

“I know. I know, Mikhail, but I need to understand. I need to understand how she knows about Heracles, how she got here… Every minute spent on anything else might be bringing

us closer to our downfall,” replied Lyutsifer, running a hand over his face. “I need to come up with an idea. Have you found any further information about her or what she told us?”

“Nothing so far. It’s as if she’d never existed.”

Lyutsifer rose from his seat, pointing at the screen, where Line was still standing at the window watching the snow.

“We need to understand what this woman wants. Get back to work; find me any information you can about her. Anything. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Mikhail opened his mouth, then closed it again, before nodding and leaving the room. Lyutsifer seemed… obsessed. All his requests, all his orders… He had only one word on his lips: Line.

The bedroom door opened silently. His footsteps echoed on the concrete floor. He stopped, his gaze fixed on Line’s silhouette as she stood with her back to him. 

“Why aren’t you trying to escape?”

Line didn’t move, didn’t turn round. Her gaze remained fixed on the snow.

“To go where?”

Her answer was obvious, predictable. She couldn’t really escape from the fortress that was this island. She would be dead the moment she set foot on a ship, and even if she managed to escape, she would probably die at sea. So why did that answer bother him so much? Why had his heart clenched? 

He began to watch the snow, moving closer to the window to stand beside Line. With his hands behind his back, he looked pensive.

“You’re a prisoner. I didn’t expect so little resistance from you.”

“You mentioned that recruitment for the project would be ruthless. My life was already a prison before; at least here I have a purpose.”

Silence fell once more. There was something peaceful about the snow; perhaps that was why she was looking at it.