Refugee Prison Break

Chapter 18

For the third time in as many weeks, I had to recount Bas's tale, only this time by text. The secure app Poke and her friends used took some getting familiar with as it destroyed messages seconds after being read, and never displayed sender and message on screen at the same time. I was doing this while at my desk pretending to stress over pipe flow calculations.

By lunchtime, I had a name to reserve the Schattig Aardworm under, a bank account to pay for it with, and an address to send it to. I wanted to call the company right away and arrange dates for delivery, but it was still pre-dawn in Europe, so I had to wait. When I did call up, I quickly ran into a major snag. I ideally wanted it in a month, giving me enough time to sort the rest of my scheme out.

"It is being delivered to a project in England in two weeks. That project runs for nearly a year. So you'll have to wait until it's finished."

"But... But... How about I rent it for these two weeks?"

"The minimum period is one month. We can't risk our other contract."

"I am willing to pay the full month's rate. I'm willing to add a premium and pay extra insurance! This is for a major art installation! Your machine is going to sit on a stand in the middle of a gallery in Chicago, and, who knows, earn you more clients through this free advertising!"

"Your needs are very unusual..."

I spent the next hour pressing my argument, trying to get agreement. As I spouted creative art jargon, I worried that having the machine for only one week in the U.S. (days either side for transport and customs) was not enough. Running full time, it needed forty hours to complete my half-mile tunnel; to get it from Chicago to Florida, I planned on driving some kind of truck, and that would take twenty hours each way. Add in time to set up and do everything else, there was almost zero margin for error. When I finally got a yes from the Schattig Aardworm contractor, and after I had transferred a down-payment, I felt a pang of fear that I had wasted ninety thousand dollars. It wasn't even clear I could make it to America on time!

The count-down had started. The contractor said he was arranging pickup that afternoon, and would also arrange collection in ten days. I needed to complete paper work for its entry into the U.S., and then I needed to be on a plane.

My boss passed by my desk, headed for the restrooms. Initially I was going to tell her I wasn't feeling well and ask for the day off, but instead I saw an opportunity to make my illness more convincing. I took a big gulp of water, as much as I could fit in my mouth, stopped myself swallowing any, then entered a stall in the bathroom. Pointing my head into the toilet bowl, I made groaning sounds as I spat out water.

"Are you alright in there?" my boss called.

When I left the stall, she was waiting outside.

"Oh you poor thing. What's up?"

"It's fine... I haven't been feeling great since yesterday... I'll be fine."

"Are you ill? If you've been feeling ill since yesterday... You could be contagious. You should go home. You could spread something." She covered her mouth. "I'd rather you recovered quickly."

I didn't have to be asked again. I feigned reluctance, then went to pack my things.