INCEPTIO (Roma Nova) Read Free

jack-shit?’
    He fixed his gaze on the scuffed door panel directly over my shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry.’
    Heat prickled in my eyes, but I was not going to cry. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I walked out, shut the heavy oak door with supreme control, changed back into my jeans and tee in the locker room and left the staff building, my head up. I threw the green park uniform and ID in a public trashcan. Childish, but satisfying.
     

II
    Back at my apartment, I made a cup of tea and sat at the tiny table by the window for three hours. A whole slice of my life had been cut out in a few minutes by some rich-kid druggie. I’d loved the openness of the park, the stunning trees, kids playing naturally, the illusion of being in the country. Not the Nebraska of my teens, but New Hampshire with Dad before he died. Those weekends when we hiked and camped, surrounded by the fresh warm air, the two of us alone. Then the day came when he lay in the hospital bed, skinny thin with his face shrunken like an old man, struggling to whisper my name. As I left the hospital that evening, when he’d fallen into his last sleep, it had rained and the air was sullen. I felt my throat tighten. The pain of losing him was as raw today as it had been all those years ago. I bit my fingernails, gulped, dropped my head in my hands and burst into sobs.
     
    It had to be a mistake. I swallowed my pride, gathered up my grit, like Dad used to say, and spent most of Sunday drafting a respectful mail to the director asking to be reconsidered.
    I blinked when a reply hit my inbox within forty minutes.
     
    From the desk of the Director
    Madam,
    In reference to your recent communication, the Director finds the contents unacceptable and untrue. All allegations or claims against the Autonomous City of New York and all permissions and privileges are hereby rejected. Your record of attendance has been deleted.
    The consequences of harassing municipal and public employees are severe and constitute a Class E Non-Violent Felony (CNY Penal Code S180).
    You are advised that, on advice from the Department of Internal Security, your name has been placed on a national security watch list because of your antisocial behaviour and foreign parentage.
     
    I stared at the screen. I felt like I’d been struck in the face. This couldn’t be happening. I wasn’t a terrorist or criminal. Sure, my mother had been born abroad, but she’d been dead for twenty-one years. My father was born in England but had been a naturalised American for nearly two-thirds of his life. He’d even been decorated for war service in North Africa. That kid being pissed at me couldn’t have gone this far, could it?
    I started shaking.
    God. What else could these people do to me?
     
    The next morning, at my regular job, I drooped over my desk and shuffled papers in folders, but I didn’t know what I was doing. I worked Monday to Friday at Bornes & Black, a Connaught Avenue advertising agency handling niche inventor accounts. Pretty mundane in the two years I’d been here, but it was a job that nearly paid the bills and gave me – no – had given me precious free weekends in the park.
    Damn.
    ‘Hey, Karen.’ A paper ball landed on my right hand. I looked up. Across from me, Amanda, the other assistant account executive in our team, grinned and tipped her chin up at me.
    ‘What’s up? Eat a lemon, or did you get a tax bill?’
    ‘No, nothing.’
    She rolled her large brown eyes, but before she could open her mouth to start an interrogation, the boss’s assistant materialised in front of me. This god-like being had never before looked at me, let alone smiled at me. Maybe calling it a smile was stretching it. I was to report to the boss ‘at my earliest convenience’ to talk about a special project. The immaculate figure turned about in a swirl of dark blue, the tail of a green and yellow silk scarf dripping down her curved, swaying back.
    Amanda and I both stared.
    I pushed my hair