Alan Goodwin - Gravity's Chain

Bebe checked himself in the mirror, quickly wiping the corner of his mouth with a wet finger to remove a fleck of toothpaste. Once the knock came he moved fluidly to open the door. Four men entered, led by George. He was in his mid-thirties with a pencil-thin face and high cheekbones. His hair was greased and swept back and he wore small frameless glasses. A strong smell of expensive aftershave liberally applied trailed him as he entered the room. Briefly he introduced me to the three men with him, whose names I instantly forgot. It didn’t matter, they were surplus to requirements, simply there to watch and learn.

Bebe fussed around Mason as though he was a royal. For the most part Mason ignored the attention, but he at least acknowledged the orange juice Bebe poured him with a slight incline of the head. ‘How are you, Jack?’

‘Fine.’

‘I hear the show is going well, very well indeed.’ He pulled a briefing paper from a case carried by one of his minions and laid it flat on his knees.

‘Yes it is, George,’ answered Bebe on my behalf before sitting on the sofa edge like a lady in an Austen novel being introduced to her future husband.

‘Good, as you know I saw it in London. It’s extremely impressive, Jack, everything the company hoped for when they invested so heavily in you. You’re aware, aren’t you, Jack, that the company has put a huge amount of time and money into you?’

‘Oh, I’m aware, George. Rarely does a day go by when I’m not reminded of the fact.’

‘Have you been drinking?’

‘But,’ I continued, ‘it’s all right, I say to myself, because just look at the money I’m making for you all and just look what I’m doing for the good name of Taikon.’

Bebe laughed nervously, but he was the only one to respond and the four Taikon boys sat in company-ordered silence.

‘Interesting to see what our friend Mr Driesler has been saying recently. You’ve been keeping up with that, Jack?’

‘Every word, George.’

‘This thing with the girl in New Zealand…’

‘Jo, she has a name and it’s Jo.’

‘…this is worrying us. What you got up to before was hardly acceptable, but we turned a blind eye, because we all have our weaknesses. I think we’ve been more than fair in letting you lead the kind of life you wanted, but you must accept there were risks for us. You know how much reputation is important for the company, you know how damaging it would be if too much of what you do got out into the media. We took the risk because you’re important and what you have to say is important and it was all part of a bargain. But this thing with the girl, this is a different league, Jack. I mean, for Christ’s sake, she’s dead, and she effectively died in your bloody hotel room. The hospital was just an unfortunate intermediary.’

‘Did you rehearse this speech, George, or are you ad-libbing? Because if you are, you’re doing really rather well.’

‘This isn’t funny, Jack. In fact it’s very serious and I think you’d better start treating it that way. Your little vices have killed a girl.’

‘Not looking very good for the company image, is it?’

‘No, and as I’m sure you know, if it’s looking bad for the company it’s looking bad for you. If we pull the plug on you, you’re finished. If we drop you, no one else will touch you because there’ll be a legal blanket round you so tight that not even the light of day will get through without our say-so. You’d be finished, Jack, finished, so shall we start to take this a bit more seriously?’

All three of the company gnomes nodded in agreement at George’s wise words. I even saw Bebe joining in.

‘What have you come to say, George?’

‘This Driesler article is getting a lot of press. For some strange puritan streak in society what he’s saying about morals is hitting a nerve. The great unwashed, it seems, want some morals. The papers are giving it coverage, as is TV. No one seems to give a stuff about the science, but they have picked up on the other. So we have a problem, Jack. Just at the time that the spotlight might fall on you as the world’s highest profile scientist you’re snorting enough cocaine in hotel rooms with Russian hookers to blow a young girl’s brain apart. Not to mention lying to the police. How’s that going to look?’

‘The lying wasn’t my idea, George. Bebe told me to do that.’

‘On my orders, but we’re left with some big problems to sort out.’

‘Ones I assume that, by your royal presence, you have answers for.’

‘A solution has been suggested and we’ve come to discuss it with you.’

‘George, cut the crap. There’s no discussion to be had—you’ve made a decision. I have no choice other than to accept it otherwise you’ll dump me. You’ve made it clear that I’ll be professionally decapitated if that happens. I’d rather you just told me so we can get on with the tour.’

Except for me, everyone in the room, including Bebe, shifted their bottoms. Oh yes, the mighty corporation arse cover was in full swing.

‘We think it would be good for you to get some help with the drink and drugs.’

‘Rehab?’

‘Very low-key stuff, Jack—a chance for you to take some time out, rest up and recharge the batteries. We simply can’t take the chance of something like this happening again. We have to protect you and the company when the scrutiny is going to be intense. I daresay the thing will pass and the pack will be onto something else. For the moment, though, they’re going to be after you, after a story that fits with what Driesler is preaching. And we know where that can lead, don’t we?’

‘When?’

‘We’re going to rearrange the rest of the American tour. We want you to return to England tomorrow.’

‘You’re cancelling the tour?’

‘Not cancelling, Jack, we’re altering the dates and that gives us the chance to add more dates. The tour is a huge success here and we want to make it bigger, so it gives us the chance to take stock.’

‘So tomorrow I go back to England and go into rehab?’

For the first time Bebe entered the debate. ‘It will be a chance for you to sort things out, Jack. Who knows, you might start working again. You need to take Driesler’s science on and you need to be rested and in shape.’

‘We can’t let Driesler take you down, Jack,’ said George with what nearly sounded like some earnest passion. ‘The company has too much at stake.’ Yes, of course, that was his passion. ‘So we need you to burst his bubble, but you can’t show any weakness. We think he may know about some of your…habits and that’s what he’s driving at with some of what he’s saying. It’s personal, Jack, whatever he claims. He doesn’t like you and he wants to bring you down. So the company needs to protect its investment—you—and the best way of doing that is to get you sorted and make you strong again.’

I’m not sure how the meeting ended. The rest of the afternoon retreated behind a haze as I sank into my own thoughts. Bebe poured a drink, fussed around me and, when he knew I’d disappeared to a place of my own, left me alone. Only when it was time for the show did he reappear and slowly coax me to return to the present. How lucky I was to have done the show over forty times: when I needed something deep inside to switch to automatic I was rewarded by a near-perfect performance.

As on the previous night, Bebe took the precaution of organising appropriate post-show entertainment. Given the Vegas location it was suitably lurid, complete with Egyptian theme. There were more available women in the room than most men get to meet in a lifetime. When I entered, Bebe bowed slightly and waved in the direction of the party as though I was an offering to the gods, as though he was inviting me to say farewell to a previous life.