Milo Jackerby (Second Part)

17^th December, 3012

It had been a slow, busy day, which did not stop the several business men from charging down the metallic hall ways of the hundred floored building before reaching the architects room,

            “Oliver?” one man called out as the other four men spread out, looking around at the elaborate sketched and plans for buildings,

            “Here!” A tall, gangly man with a wild blonde mane and circular glasses popped up from a pile of paper, “Sorry, just sorting a few things…” his voice trailed away as he saw the number of people in his office, “Can I help?”

            “We need to see the plan for Saint Arden’s Prison,” another man said, “The boss wants us to see the progress,” Oliver’s face fell slightly,

            “I… Well… I was told only certain members of the building can be shown this… It is extremely confide-” the man in the far corner cut him off,

            “We have a gram from him, if you want proof,” he sneered slightly as he threw over a small silver disk. Oliver pressed his right thumb into the small, spherical hole in it. The disk flashed blue and, as Oliver withdrew his thumb, rays of blue light shone out at least 10 inches into the air, forming the shape of Mr Hannigan,

            “Oliver,” the man’s deep New York accent grated Oliver violently, “We need to see progress for Saint Arden’s, it is a matter of government and citizen interest that this building is put together within the next year,”

            “But, Mr Hannigan, you said a year would be the minimum-”

            “Do not argue with me boy!” his boss bellowed back, the rays of light shifting to show every detail of his anger, “We can take you off the project just as easily as I put you on it, you have these sketches shown to these men, now, and they better be finished on my desk by Wednesday or I will make sure that girlfriend of yours-”

            “No,” Oliver squeaked. He didn’t like it when people mentioned Tilly. She was pregnant and, with her health, she was weak and couldn’t handle the stress of having an unemployed boyfriend, “It’s fine, Sir, I’ll show them the sketches and the full plan will be ready for Tuesday,” the image of Mr Hannigan remained still slightly, the light rays shining brightly, showing up the boss’s smile,

            “Good,” he said, “I look forward to it Oliver,” and with that the rays of light faded back into the silver disk, that was fogged up from Oliver’s palms. There was a moment of silence before Oliver shifted, his shoes squeaking,

            “Right,” he croaked, he moved silently through the piles of folders, papers and scrap books before stopping in front of a silver desk, he opened it and pulled out a long column with the Saint Arden’s logo printed on it, he turned and handed to the first of the men. Pushing Oliver out the way, they crowded around the large piece of paper, looking over the lines and plan for outside appearance,

            “You’re going with ivory?” one man questioned, Oliver shook his head,

            “Artificial ivory with mercury based, it gives it a… Glowing appearance,” he answered,

            “Just what the public would want,” another man muttered before a man with a goatee spoke up,

            “You made another copy?” Oliver paused. No he hadn’t. Why did they ask that?

            “No,” Oliver replied, his brow creasing, “Why?” he pushed through the group of suited men and saw, as clear as day, the small dot of the printer mark. Someone had made a copy.

            “Have you lent it to another department?” one man said, Oliver shook his head,

            “This is confidential, I couldn’t,” he turned to see the stony faced men, “It’s been under lock and key, it’s impossible to get to this floor, let alone into the building with a DNA scan,” there was another silence but, despite the imposing and threatening look of the men, the smell of fear drenched the room,

            “We’ll double up security,” the man with the goatee said, “You can go home now, just make sure that’s finished for Wednesday,” Oliver nodded and waited for the men to leave his office. He turned and hid the large sketch in his desk before sighing loudly. His pocket beeped a happy, flowery tune, he answered the gram,

            “Oli!” the woman beamed, it was Tilly. Her blonde plaits and blue eyes glowed in the hologram’s rays, “It’s late; are you still at the office?”

            “Just had a meeting,” he said, “I’m porting back home,”

            “Good, I heard the roads were busy,” her voice croaked and she coughed, “Hurry back,”

            “I’ll be with you soon, I love you both,” Tilly smiled and her hand disappeared to stroke her large stomach.