“What’s your name?” he whispered through the darkness.
“Camille,” she said.
“I’m Frederich.”
The room went silent. When she still said nothing, Frederich assumed she wanted to sleep. She had looked exhausted enough.
“Goodnight,” he said, assuming she was already out.
There was another long pause before her voice suddenly came from the corner.
“Goodnight, Frederich,” she said.
23
Inselheim and the Neutralaser team were back in action.
The semi-trailer truck sent out beep after screeching beep as it slowly reversed through the roller door. The side of the sixty-foot long container was decorated from top to bottom with an enormous illustration of a green apple and the business name beneath it. On the road from the mansion, Inselheim had noticed they were in a fruit-growing region. Now it made sense. A fruit company was an excellent cover strategy to get the equipment shipped in without suspicion.
The warehouse itself was beneath Inselheim’s typical standards. He kicked his heel into the dust-covered concrete floor, exposing the many months the place had remained unused. He inspected the vintage brickwork, the paint on the window sills which was now peeling off. The air was heavy with the residual smell of chemicals. The building itself was vastly smaller than their now destroyed state-of-the-art facility in Kazakhstan, and the equipment at their disposal was nowhere near as cutting edge. Still, it was better than nothing. The Neutralaser team was at least safe and able to work.
Ignoring the chemical stink, Inselheim inhaled deeply and smiled. There was no sign of his panic attacks. He had slept all through the previous nights, a feat he had not achieved in a long time. The team was shuffling around organising the space, and the scene reminded him of the first days of the Neutralaser project. Shirvan was busy directing the forklift driver where to place the crates. Phil and Mona exchanged smiles while putting together the work desks for the design department. The manufacturing team were in deep discussion about how to arrange the robotics equipment. Brunswick was hunched over her computer terminal in the corner.
“You would think The League of Reckoning never existed,” said Inselheim as he approached. “The way everyone is back at work.”
He noticed the Neutralaser blueprints on her screen.
“Hmm?” said Brunswick, half turning to Inselheim while still absorbed in her work.
“The team,” said Inselheim, taking a seat next to her. “It’s good to see them.”
“They’ve been through a lot,” said Brunswick, her attention now shifting to him.
“So have you,” said Inselheim.
“We all have,” replied Brunswick with a stern nod.
“I spoke to some of the team. They told me you were amazing. They think they wouldn’t have made it without you.”
“I did what I had to,” said Brunswick.
“Well, you did good,” said Inselheim. “I know it wasn’t easy.”
Brunswick went silent, her stare turning vacant, which reminded Inselheim of how much the past months had fundamentally changed her. On the surface she was still her tenacious self, but when Inselheim searched deeper there was a part of her which, previously accessible to him, was now locked shut. The soft edges of her personality were gone. Nobody discussed what had happened, and the team loyally followed Brunswick’s lead in going straight back to work. Inselheim wondered if they would show symptoms of trauma as he had, but he did not dare open his mouth. The team was likely dealing with the fall-out of their ordeal in their own way. In Inselheim’s case, it was after sunset that the nightmares began, when the distraction of work was left behind. For now, he would play along, glad to have rediscovered some order in the chaos.
“Everything there?” he asked, signalling to the blueprints.
Brunswick re-gathered her focus.
“Yes, I’m just preparing the file system for Phil and the others.”
“Great,” said Inselheim.
“Whose genius idea was it to keep remote backups again?” said Brunswick.
Inselheim snickered and shook his head. They had debated for a long time the security implications of using an external server in Norway. Inselheim had been anxious about vulnerability to hackers, Brunswick had voiced her concerns about keeping everything in-house, which left the risk of losing their precious data too high for comfort.
“You do think of everything,” he said. “Did I mention I’m glad to have you back?”
“A hundred times,” said Brunswick. “I missed you too.”
Inselheim knew she meant it, but her words lacked the usual warmth to which he was accustomed. Give her time.
“Kimberley?” came a voice from behind.
Inselheim and Brunswick turned around and saw Mona approaching.
“One second, Michael,” said Brunswick and got up.
Inselheim watched Brunswick and Mona together from a distance. They communicated with ease, seamlessly laying hands on each other as they spoke, nodding at the right times, their facial expressions perfectly synced. Inselheim could only imagine what they had gone through together, but the effect had been powerful. Brunswick had grown more determined, more imposing, and her presence among the team was like an army general among their troops.
Heads suddenly turned toward the door as Stirner entered, flanked by three of his guards. Mona brushed her red hair out of her face and walked away, a small nod from Brunswick signalling the end of their meeting. Inselheim lifted himself off his chair, preparing himself to greet Stirner.
