The Gemini Age: Book One

[5-2] Burning at Both Ends - Part Two

    A bulb flickered in the hall, only sparking into full life as the main doors into the station's open office screeched apart to light up the dark grey walls and muddy white flooring. The yellow glare of overhead lights ushered away the subtle blues and greens of the office décor as it fought the darkness outside, and the station fell further into the solemn depths of sobriety than during the daytime. 

    Fiona swatted at her hair to fix the mess inflicted upon it by the wind, though she gave up as the first pairs of eyes glanced up from the crooked desks to see her. Splashed across the rear wall of the office was the same rolling news channel that had been on when she had left hours earlier. While the presenter had changed from a calm and gentle young woman to a sour-seeming old man, the main headline had remained the same. Gemini Violence Reaches Record High. 

    The white wall clock ticked by, its hands two minutes ahead of the readout on the news. At Fiona's side, the occupant of the desk opposite her own leaned back in his seat and chewed his pen. "You didn't miss much, boss," he said, his scarlet tie loose around his neck. "They still haven't said a thing about us."

    Tapping her fist against her cluttered desk, Fiona shook her head. Nights like this revealed just how unsustainable the ban against alcohol on police premises was. "Of course not. We could vanish from the face of the planet overnight, and we'd barely make the front of the national news websites."

    The man grinned, his hand spinning his pen with the skill of somebody used to procrastinating. "We're not click-worthy enough. Who'd read articles about Edinburgh if we all disappeared? Maybe the Glaswegians, if they fancied a laugh at a party." A few of the others scattered around the room approved with loose chuckles, and he looked around to accept all the validation.

    Fiona did not laugh, more from exhaustion than a desire to kill her sergeant's buzz. Following the same agenda by which his parents named him, Kevin Buchanan's peppered references to national culture were an attempt to present himself as unimpeachably Scottish and disguise the fact he was born and raised in Hong Kong until he was eight years old. At first, she thought Kevin used humour to avoid facing the toxicity of policework. She changed her mind when she heard he had been written up for giving a piece of his mind to his former chief inspector, a Tempered supremacist who was blatantly racist to boot. Whatever her earlier opinion of him had been, he had her respect now. "Are you in all night?" Fiona asked, not taking her eyes from the rolling news ticker.

    Placing his pen on the desk, Kevin held out his arms and shrugged. "You know it. Crime never sleeps, so neither should we, right? I won't be too lonely, though, they've got Vanny pulling an all-nighter too." He leaned to indicate a tall, thin man stood at the coffee machine, his fingers sunken into the bridge of his nose where his glasses had left deep grooves. Kevin gazed at his fellow overtime worker, then snapped to attention. "Why are you here, anyway? Didn't you escape early today?"

    "Duty called." She traced the lines of her palms through her gloves, their material still dusty and muddy despite her efforts to scrub the marks off. "Listen, if you get the chance, I need you to do some digging for me. It's about one of the Gemini cases."

    Kevin snatched up his pen and flicked open his writing pad, the corners of each page curled from their time stuffed in the pocket of the black jacket slung over his chair. "The disappearances? You've heard the big man, we're meant to wait for the reinforcements from Scotland Yard to arrive before we take those on." Despite his doubts, his pen began to scribble on the creased page, a jagged trail of lines in its wake.

    The chief's office lay dark and empty, though Fiona knew McGinn lurked somewhere around the station. "If he asks any questions, send him my way, and I'll sort him out. Sweep the records for the Nomads, Gavels, and Dons, and see if you can pin down any informants. I need whatever information we can get on a 'Karim Ayad', ASAP." To save time and headaches, she took his pen and scribbled down the name on Kevin's pad, circling it several times.