Breathe Read Online Free PDF Page A

What you have here is a shrine to rationality built by irrational people. There are two floor twelves. Also, when I first joined, I went through the cabling with a fine-tooth comb and came up against a blank. I mean a real blank: a room that cables come in and out of, but nobody seems to know what’s in there. Room 3014 … but it’s on the thirtieth floor. A floor that doesn’t officially exist. But I’ve been up there. The door’s always locked. Suppose it contains some kind of weird technology we’re not allowed to know about? It’s just sitting there, right above our heads.’
    Suddenly they hear a rhythmic thumping noise and look up to see Clarke heading their way. Clarke stops by Meera’s desk. Sweating and annoyed, the supervisor studies Ben as if he is some kind of peculiar biological anomaly. ‘Mr Harper. Step into my office, would you?’
    Clarke offers Ben a seat. The supervisor paces back and forth past his son’s sports trophies. Clarke’s elevated boot makes his clumping gait lop-sided. He is unpredictable when he’s like this.
    ‘I want you to know I was against your appointment here. But the law is on your side. You’re here to fill a European requirement. You’re a legal statistic.’
    Ben shifts uncomfortably. ‘I know it’s only my first day, but it seems to me that people are experiencing low-level symptoms of illness, and they apparently think the building is at fault.’
    ‘If someone comes to you with a problem, you report it to me. Just stick to your job description and we’ll get along fine. Don’t give me bad news. I want solid factual evidence, not your vague opinions.’
    Ben is already having a crisis of conscience. He wants to fit in, but he hates dishonesty. ‘You expect me to falsify my findings?’ That isn’t what he meant to ask, but it’s out now.
    Clarke’s eyes bulge unpleasantly as he looms close. He’s been eating onions, and there’s an under-scent of lard. ‘Listen, you little prick, you stick to being a keyboard-monkey or I’ll leave you twisting in the fucking wind. How clear is that?’
    ‘Pretty clear. I’m just trying to do my job. I don’t want to get the boot.’ That didn’t go so well , he thinks, not daring to look back as he leaves the office, mentally biting his fist.
    A building like SymaxCorp is analogous to the backstage area of a theatre set. In the same way that Disneyland’s miles of service corridors are not seen by the public, SymaxCorp’s basement remains hidden from view. Beneath the lobby, spotlights reach off into the distance. Two servicewear-co-ordinated workmen study them.
    ‘What are we looking for?’ asks Tony Cox, not because he’s interested but because it’s nearly time to go home and he’s starving.
    ‘Damage from a power surge,’ Ray Sturgiss, his supervisor, tells him. ‘It came up on the board. I don’t see any.’
    ‘How do they keep everything so clean down here? You could eat off the fucking floor.’ Tony snaps his gum and blows a bubble.
    ‘Suction system removes all the dust. Howard’s the only janitor for the whole building. One day, all places will be like this.’
    ‘The hippy bloke? He never does any fucking work.’
    As the workmen watch, the lights go out all the way along the corridor.
    ‘Shit. That’s a big one.’ Ray looks up nervously. They descend and try the switches, but nothing happens. They flick on torches, illuminating a path. ‘I don’t understand. The system is brand new. There’s nothing to go wrong.’
    ‘Then where are the lights?’ asks Tony.
    ‘It must have damaged the sub-station.’ They stop before a tall steel box, the door of which is raised. ‘This shouldn’t be open. It’s hyper-sensitive equipment. It must have unsealed when the electrics crashed.’
    Tony peers in. ‘So what do we do?’
    ‘Trip the relay from the mains after I’ve checked this.’
    ‘Can you smell that? Something burning.’ Tony sniffs the air.
    ‘I’ve got no sense of smell,