BLACK INK SOCIETY {Sci-Fi Thriller} #Wattys2016

Part 1,3: A Brief Interlude

Adler moved briskly through the 32-metre-hallway. Every single one of the thirty-two floor plates measured a side length of about one metre, no, exactly one metre. A prime example of perfectly planned, simple mathemathics, only due to the incredible laziness of the architect. The natural appeal of the smooth number.

Click-Click-Click-Click...

High heels made her steps sound even more energetic. She liked it. Adler held her back straight as a dart, except for the natural curve at the end of her spine. Her movements were of an almost military precision, easily hiding the fact that she wasn't especially tall. The black coat fluttered behind her like a pair of folded wings. Adler's resolute appearance always caused pedestrians to step aside and make way for her. And she was fully aware of the effect she had on others. Given the right clothes and a sloppily faked identification, nobody dared to question her authority.

Hence, she was always the one who got stuck with it. Repeatedly rescueing her chaotic associate from his self-inflicted misery was getting a little old recently. She swung open the door at a 90°-angle and set aside the knocking for the sake of surprise.

"Irene Adler, legal advisor," she introduced herself while rushing into the room, adjusted her glasses and stopped directly in front of the puzzled policeman. It was true that she tended to be overly dramatic at times. But these ridiculous pseudonyms were definitely going too far. She was unable to remember who had come up with the idea originally, but she knew for sure that it hadn't been her.

"Er... your client is, erm... here.", the officer on duty stammered.

Adler answered this remarkable witticism with a short nod. "Thank you, officer. Would you leave us alone for a minute?"

The policeman picked up courage and cleared his throat.

"Not until we've checked his biometrics. You know the procedure."

Adler paused for a moment. She couldn't let on about the fact that she didn't have any knowledge about the 'procedure' he was talking about. Offence was the best defence in this case.

"Listen, it's late", she interrupted, "And just like you, I do not fancy dragging on this interlude until the crack of dawn. Actually... you don't seem to be very faithful to the protocol either." She arched an eyebrow and pointed to his glowing cigarette, "Now, would you be so kind and leave the room so I can confer with my client? Thank you."

The officer paused, taken aback. He opened his mouth, closed it again, then disappeared through the door. Adler's frontal attack had made it's ususal impact. The officer was just as submissive as his conspecifics.

"Irene."

"Dante."

She sat down averse him, so that their eye contact followed a straight line. Sitting, she realized with slight satisfaction, there was hardly any difference between their body heights.

"I'm afraid you misunderstood my instructions. Gaining access to the police station doesn't necessarily imply having yourself arrested. What mischief did you get into this time?"

He shrugged apologetically.

"Circumstances demanded it. I graced this hideous, kafkaesque chunk of concrete with some art, to cause a little commotion."

"I saw." Adler pursed her lips. "ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS. No, really, that's very sophisticated."

He smiled. "It works, doesn't it?"

She carefully placed the interception transmitter beneath the table. The familliar noise of the small device adhering to the steel surface was heard. Adler reached into her briefcase and brought out a considerable amount of bank notes probably going to change hands very soon.

"Two thousands should do it. Are you coming?" She placed the money on the table and elegantly rose from her seat, cocking her head as her partner in crime didn't follow.

"Pardon me", Dante waved with his not-cuffed left hand, "You wouldn't happen to have a paperclip on you...?"

Exeunt.