how and when are we to test it?’ asked Sebastian quietly but intensely.
‘How and when I say,’ replied Elizabeth curtly. ‘From now on, no-one comes into this room without my express permission. Is that understood?’
Leslie nodded in assent but Sebastian was rigid.
‘That includes you too, Mister Levi.’
‘Madam . . .’ he began, but she interrupted him. She had regained her authority, courtesy of armed guards.
‘I know you’ve been here for many years, Mister Levi. Don’t give me any speeches. I won’t forget my promise. But first we must ensure that this device is safe.’
‘May I speak with you alone for a moment, President Dawson?’ asked Sebastian.
‘Yes, of course,’ she replied. ‘Leslie, you may leave us.’
This surprised him. ‘But is it . . .’ he began.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll be quite safe,’ she replied with a smile, nodding towards the guards at the door.
And he exited the library leaving the president several floors below with the inscrutable and slightly-scary Sebastian Levi.
*
Later that afternoon Leslie knocked on Elizabeth’s door.
‘Come in!’ she shouted back.
‘I thought you’d let me know when you got back,’ asked Leslie as he entered.
‘Do I have to tell you every time I get back?’
‘Well, no,’ replied Leslie with a stifled and embarrassed laugh.
‘What can I do for you, consul?’
‘I just wanted to make sure that you were alright and to find out what’s happening with the transference unit.’
‘Well, as you can see I’m fine and as for the unit, as I told you, it’s off-limits to everyone for a while, until I decide what to do with it.’
‘I’ve been thinking, perhaps we could test it on animals? We don’t have to try it on higher order animals. What about rats? They’re smart already. Let’s catch some and . . .’
‘Consul, I’m very busy. So, unless you have something else to discuss, I’ll see you at tomorrow night’s dinner.’
‘Yes, but . . .’
‘Good day,’ she said abruptly and she cast her eyes back down towards her paperwork.
Leslie was speechless. What had happened? Why was Elizabeth being so curt with him?
Later that evening, over dinner in a restaurant, he asked Damien the same question.
‘Don’t ask me, mate,’ Damien replied after downing a rough glass of ale. ‘All I know is that she hasn’t noticed me for yonks. I thought I had a show there for a while but I think I’m out of the running. Business only.’ And he downed some more ale.
‘She’s never been like that to me before,’ Leslie mused. ‘I don’t like this Levi bloke.’
‘Never trust a librarian,’ replied Damien. ‘He’s been cooped up in there for years. What do you expect? He’s a weirdo.’
‘Yeah, well he’s a weirdo who’s getting into the ear of the president. That’s what worries me.’
‘Touch of the Rasputins,’ replied Damien with a rugged smile.
‘I’m not joking. And where’s the rest of the book he promised me?’
‘You’ll get it. Don’t panic,’ said Damien, patting Leslie hard on the back as if he meant to burp him or dislodge some object in his throat. He smiled broadly, ‘On a brighter note, mini-scooter production is underway. How are our friends overseas?’
‘That’s another thing,’ replied Leslie pensively. ‘What about that? Elizabeth’s taken over that too. I went back to my radio room after I talked with her today and the locks have been changed. I called her and asked her about it and she told me that it was all under control, but she didn’t give me any specifics. Damien, I think she’s cutting us out of the loop.’
‘Don’t get paranoid. She is the president.’
‘Am I? Am I being paranoid? Perhaps. But as far as I can see, we keep settin’ ‘em up and she keeps carrying ‘em off. What’s she up to?’
Damien sat forward and placed his hand kindly on Leslie’s shoulder, he repeated emphatically, ‘You’re being paranoid. Everything’ll be
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