LUCAS WAS CONCERNED.

He was driving back from the execution of the transfer. The Professor wasn’t with him today. They decided Lucas knew what he was doing, and someone needed to be at the property to look after the guests when they arrived. Lucas leaned forward and looked up at the sky. It was quite gloomy, with dark clouds. He felt electricity in the sky. He punched the steering wheel. Sorry, Mackenzie. I didn’t mean to zap you. Who was that idiot who pushed her? But it was his fault, not the guy who pushed her. He had chosen to do the transfer at that time so he could catch a glimpse of his darling. The voices in his head were telling him these things happen for a reason. It’s all planned out.

He would have to agree with those voices. He knew that he had to stay within the strategy. They only wanted to get the law breakers, and he was scheming about how to get that girl. But he no longer had to do that. He hit the steering wheel in triumph. He had crossed from anger to joy. She’s going to be there. He smiled; he hadn’t felt this good for quite a while.

A sign came up on the right, giving directions to a private hospital. That triggered another mood change in Lucas. What if she’d been deformed or something like that? She’ll be fine. He lost one of the homeless test dummies the other day. The person did not return after a transfer. He told the Professor about it and the Professor told him not to worry, things had been fixed up. She’ll be fine. There would be no deformities.

Was she okay? The battle in his head continued as he drove and he wondered where the homeless test dummy he lost was.

As Lucas got closer to the property he had to go into a holding pattern behind a red ute. It looked like a painter’s vehicle. Tins of paint bounced around the back of the ute, and a dog was pacing and swaying from one side of the ute to the other, restrained by the chain around to his neck.

The turn-off to the property was coming up. Lucas got a surprise when he saw the turning indicator for the ute come on. This was not good timing. He followed the ute into the property. The painter pulled his ute into a gravel parking spot near the steps that led up to the main entrance. Lucas pulled up beside the ute and went over to greet the visitor.

“Hello, can I help you?” Lucas asked.

“Oh, hi . . . sorry to disturb you, but I was sent to pick up a ladder that we left here some weeks back. We did a paint job on that large shed of yours.”

“Do you know where it is?”

He pointed. “Just down near the shed. We laid it at the side of the shed. That’s why we forgot it, you know, out of sight out of mind.”

Lucas was not in the right frame of mind for this happy-go-lucky man. “I’ll go and get it for you.”

“Not sure if you will manage it—it’s a big ladder. Now that was a stupid thing to say. You do look like you can manage it. Do you work out or something?"

The sooner he got rid of this man the better. Lucas’s phone started ringing. He answered. It was the minister, so he asked him to hold. He turned to the painter, hesitated and said, “Well, you best go get it then. Try and be quiet as we have some people in the shed at the moment—we’re using it as an activity centre.”

“No worries.” The painter headed down to the shed.

While he was on the phone, Lucas watched the painter. The shed only had the one large window and it was on the opposite side to where the ladder was, so the painter couldn’t take a peek. He watched as the painter walked past the pile of rubbish. Lucas remembered he’d thrown the damaged mannequin on that pile. He noticed the painter hesitate as he walked past the rubbish.

The painter now had the ladder. He seemed to investigate the pile of rubbish in more details as he walked past. Even to the point of pretending to loose his balance with the ladder so he could get a better look at the mannequin. What a jerk.

Lucas met him at his ute. “Wasn’t a body?”

“Ah. What do you mean?”

“The mannequin. We use it for our first aid classes.”

“Oh. No worries. Well, I best be off.”

“I suppose you heard a bit of noise coming from the shed. It’s one of those self-development courses and the instructor gets them revved up a bit.”

“All sounds fine to me.”

“Okay, then. Got everything?”

Lucas tapped the ute’s roof to signal the visit was completed and it was time to go. The painter’s dog gave Lucas a growl. The ute took off.

<°)))><

The painter’s ute turned on to the bitumen road and started heading to the job where the ladder was needed.

A couple of kilometres into his trip, the painter had to slam on his brakes. A man had came staggering out of the bush and up to the ute. The man placed his hand on the bonnet and then made his way around to the driver’s window.

The man pleaded for a lift. He was lost. He didn’t know where he was.

The painter helped him out. There was a bus stop near the big barrel that advertised the local winery. He dropped the lost man there.

The painter drove off. It was a strange day. Mannequins and people from outer space.

<°)))><

Lucas hoped there would be no more distractions. He walked back over to the van and retrieved his security duty belt, the one he’d forgotten to return when he left. He let Starkey know that all was clear. It was the minister who called Lucas when he was with the painter—he wanted an update. Lucas told him it was coming.

It was a large shed, its appearance softened by some big trees. Lucas and Starkey headed down towards it. From the outside it looked like a shed, but inside it had been transformed into a separate office and the larger room they referred to as the holding bay. The Minister’s department had funded the transformation using some creative accounting. Soundproof insulation had been fitted between the studs, then covered and secured by plasterboard walls, all professionally painted. Security grilles had been added to the windows, and the doors had been reinforced. Creature comforts of air conditioning and heating were installed along with a PA system and media viewing equipment.

Lucas noticed Starkey looking at his belt.

“You expecting trouble, Lucas . . . I assume that’s a Taser gun there?”

“It is. Also some pepper spray and a baton.” Lucas patted the other side of his belt. “I’m not expecting trouble, Starkey, but what we’re up to seems to generate its fair share of unpredictability.” Lucas was always impressed with how he was able to convey confidence when he had to, an aura that covered the battle within well.

The shed door creaked as they opened it. They walked into a small office that still had a smell of newness about it. A couple of iPads rested on a bench next to some Richard Nixon face masks. Lucas noticed some empty rice cracker containers and cheese wrappers in a bin near the bench. Next to the bin sat a large box, flaps open to reveal black bicycle helmets.

“What’s with the helmets, Starkey?”

“Protect heads when people fall. It’s okay when we transport people here, with the softened floor we got put in, but when we send them back it’s a different matter. Some do fall, but it looks like it depends what they’re doing when they get transported. If they’re lying or standing, then that should be the same at the other end. If they are active—like walking or running—then they could be off balance when transported, and fall. I suppose it’s an overreaction. Maybe they’ll never be used.”

Lucas thought of the jogger, the man in the first test. Sounds like Starkey’s theory could be right. “You never know.”

Their eyes went to a large monitor on the wall. Lucas saw the girl Mackenzie there and smiled. He counted seven people. One man was banging on the door. Starkey picked up the masks.

Lucas took a mask from Starkey. “Well, let’s get this party underway.” Starkey gave an advance warning over the PA system that they were about to enter.

Lucas made sure they had the remote control for the door. Starkey opened the door to the holding bay. They walked in. The man who was banging on the door took a step back and had a swing at them with his briefcase, then backed off. Maybe it was the size of Lucas or what Lucas had on around his waist. A sense of panic still hovered. One woman was hysterical, demanding answers.

“Lady, would you please calm down?” Starkey asked.

“No, I won’t. I demand to know what’s happening. And why are you wearing those stupid masks?”

“Lady, you’ll know soon enough what’s happening. Now, calm down.”

A man standing next to the lady whispered something to her. 

“No, I will not shut up.” She grabbed her mobile phone out of her bag.

“We have told you, that won’t work. We have a cell phone jammer set up so there’s no receiving or transmitting of mobile signals. So please calm down, and we will explain what’s going on.”