The door creaked open; the sound of the hinges on the old door havent been lubricated in years. It sent a chill down her spine as she scanned the dark room with squinted eyes. The old man hobbled over to where the teller wouldve have been many years ago, placed his arm on the counter to support his fragile and aging body; he turned to her and said, "My daughter, 20 years ago, maybe 21, was killed by a drunk driver..." his eyes began to tear up, though he surpressed his anguish Jane took notice of his intense emotions, "...It was that damned Senator's son!" His face turning red with anger, "Senator Shipman; his son Casey... Casey Shipman; let off because the evidence of his failed breathalyzer test was 'misplaced', they said. Nevermind the fact that even then, in those old days, we kept back ups, of back ups, of back ups. Shipman claimed my daughter ran in front of his car. She was 3 days in the hospital... died a day before her twenty-second birthday." A tear finally broke free and slid down his leathery, sun baked skin. "I've never been one of those techno-wizards, so when Shipman and his attorney moved to dismiss the charges on lack of evidence; I called them 'frauds' in court. I demanded the court force them to locate the evidence. Shipman smirked. The judge asked me if I had any reason to believe such evidence existed... I - well... The fact is, people have been led astray. Governed by those with too much power; too much influence. Our society could be great.. if only..." His despair overtook him. The old man collapsed to his knees.
"Are you okay!?" Jane grabbed his forearm and elbow. She could feel the tension reverberrating through his body as he began to compose himself.
"Yes I'm fine. Over there," he loosely pointed with his free hand in the direction of a filing cabinet in the dark corner of the room, "in the third drawer down.. there is an envelope. Please, go and fetch it."
Jane gently lowered his arm to his side; she slowly walked over to the filing cabinet to open the drawer but it would not open. "It is locked." She said.
"Oh, yes, hang on, its one of these keys..." the old man funmbled through the key ring again searching for the proper key. His fingers flipped through what looked like a dozen keys, some digital fobs and some old fashined nickel-brass keys. "...locks are great to keep prying eyes from... ah.. here it is." He slid the key from the ring and held it up in the air in her direction.
As she reached out to take the key the old man grabbed her hand, "I do hope you know what it means."
Slightly perturbed, Jane took the key, "Know what it means?" she asked.
"The envelope. I can not decipher.. deliver its contents.. Go now. Take the envelope. You will know what to do."
Jane unlocked the drawer. Inside was a 9" X 12" manilla envelope; stained with what looked like coffee from many years ago on the bottom corner. She began to open the clasp when..
"No!" The old man shouted. "Not here. Go, leave and do what you must. But not here. We must be quick; like a thief in the night."
His words, jarred her, confused her. She closed the clasp and headed for the exit. As she reached for the door the old man said one last remark...
"Remember them. Never forget. Never."
With that, she opened the door and left. As she paced ever faster down the sidewalk she placed her mask back on her face; heading back to her apartment she thought to herself, "What the hell am I doing? Who is this man? Is this old man crazy? What is this?"
She arrived back to her block. Police were investigating something on the opposing corner of her apartment building. She learned ever since she was young to 'ignore and keep walking' but the sight of police lights brought back memories of her father. "They dont know what their doing..." he once said to her, "...they must work to feed their families. They dont realize they are protecting the status quo." His voice still rings loudly in her mind.
As a young girl, Jane was unaware, oblivious, or at best, ambivilant to his message. She was 14 when the secret police took him away. Now, 10 years later, his message, his teachings, his lessons, his love is finally beginning to make sense.
As her mind began to focus more and more on her fathers memory, her eyes began to tear up once again. She paced ever faster towards her apartment. At last she reached the front door. She glanced upwards towards the facial recognition camera and grabbed the door handle; but it remained locked. She looked up again, but still, it remained locked. "Open!" she shouted at the robotic atrocity. It did not respond. Finally, she realized she was still wearing her respirator mask. After removing the mask, she looked up once more. "BZZZZZ" the door buzzed and unlocked.
Into the elevator; to the sixth floor she went. The doors opened, she entered the hallway flicking with old flourescent lights from an era long ago. Upon arriving at her apartment door, she grabbed her key fob and reached for the door, but then, she heard something or someone inside her apartment.
Emotional and scared, she did not enter, but instead rushed to her neighbors apartment 7 doors down from hers. 'KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK... knock, knock, knock... KNOCK, KNOCK!' Her signature knock to let Damian know it was her.
After a few anxious seconds, Damian opened the door. Immediately he identified the stress on her face, "Jane-y... his nickname for her, "...what is the matter? Are you okay?"
"I - I don't know!" she uttered as she pushed her way past him into his apartment. "I think there is someone in my apartment."
He closed the door, turned his head at a slight angle, squinted his eyes, and said "What? Really? Why?"
She held up the envelope. "I don't know. But I think it may have something to do with this."
Damian looked confused. He was used to her games, they'd been friends for 3 years now. But this didn't seem like a game to him. "What is that?" he asked.
"I don't even know, the old man gave it to me; told me I'd know what to do."
"Old man? Wha - well, what's inside?"
'BANG, BANG, BANG!' a loud knock on the door, "Police, we are entering your premises in 15 seconds. If present, please be seated with your hands visible."
"Quick! Go hide in the shower!" Damian quietly commanded.
Jane rushed for the shower, jumped inside, slid the shower curtain shut, and crouched down. As quiet as she could be, she placed her ear against the wall and listened.
"Entering now!" the policman shouted. Damian dropped to the floor and spread his hands wide. Using their universal key fob, the police opened Damians door. Without missing a beat, the police immediately surrounded him. Trained in the art of intimidation and coercion they began to badger him with questions.
"Do you know Joanna Zabinski?" they probed.
"Jane? Y-yes, sir... yes I do." Damian responded.
"When is the last time you have seen her?"
Damian lied, "I don't know, um..." then he recalled the last time he saw Jane, "We had a cup of coffee and a bite to eat the other day, we.."
"WHEN!?" the officer interrupted.
"I-uh..."
"Tell us the truth Damian!" The officers shouted again. Damian was hesitant to even respond, but if he didnt, the police would simply escort him out of the building and search his apartment.
"Two days ago, she came over and we had coffee and crepes."
"Where is she now?!"
"I don't know, is she in trouble?"
The officers scanned his small living room. Damian was the head security guard for Bank Americana down the street; he could walk to work every day. Without needing to pay for transportation, his income was sufficient to afford a one bedroom apartment with a living room and a bathroom. One officer walked into his tiny bedroom, quickly looked around, and immediately came out. "Shes not here" he said.
"If you see her, do not tell her we were looking for her. Give us a call. You will be rewarded 1500 credits for information you provide."
As they turned to leave, one officer stopped. He glared into Damian eyes, looked around the room once more, and took notice of the bathroom door. It was closed.
"Do you always keep you bathroom door closed?" he asked as he slowly stepped forward towards the bathroom door.
Damian felt his stomach sink. "I - uh..."