Contact by Chris Morphew

said Dad, stepping out through the opening doors, ‘is where all the cool kids hang out. Top floor. C’mon, I’ll show you my office.’
    We followed Dad out of the lift, into a waiting room place that was kind of like the front office at school. A woman raised an eyebrow at us from behind a desk.
    â€˜Reeve’s wife,’ I murmured. ‘From the park, remember?’
    Dad said hi to her, and then took us away down a long, wide corridor. There were doors along both sides, stencilled with people’s names.
    â€˜Nice paintings,’ said Jordan, pointing to one of the frames that hung between the doorways. It was all weird abstract stuff, but most of the pictures looked like they were meant to be animals.
    â€˜Yeah,’ said Dad, ‘Mr Shackleton did them himself. He’s a pretty big environmentalist.’
    I bit my tongue. It was almost funny. Almost.
    I turned to catch Jordan’s reaction, and realised that she’d fallen behind. She was leaning against the wall, doubled over with her eyes closed, like someone had punched her in the stomach.
    â€˜Whoa, Jordan,’ I said, running back to help her.
    â€˜You okay?’ I tried to take her by the arm but she shook me off.
    â€˜Yeah … fine …’ she said, straightening up.
    By now, Luke and Dad were both looking back as well.
    â€˜What happened?’ asked Luke.
    â€˜Nothing,’ said Jordan, ‘I just thought …’ She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. ‘Never mind. I’m fine.’
    Dad hesitated for a sec, shooting her a look that might have been concern or suspicion or just curiosity, then kept walking.
    We continued down the hall until we came to a door marked WEIR . Dad pulled out his keys.
    Luke tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the opposite wall, to another handle-less steel door, just like Pryor’s.
    â€˜Hey Dad, what’s in there?’ I asked, hopefully sounding offhand. ‘Is that Shackleton’s office?’
    â€˜No, Mr Shackleton’s up there,’ said Dad, indicating a door at the end of the corridor. ‘That’s just a store cupboard.’
    â€˜A store cupboard? What have you got in there, solid gold –?’
    I stopped talking. The door at the end of the corridor had just swung open.
    Mr Shackleton was striding towards us, eyes locked on my dad. Fancy suit, old man hair, face like a cadaver. He’d always creeped me out a bit, even before I knew what a psycho he was.
    Officer Calvin was right behind him, limping along on his crutch, but still looking like he could break me in half one-handed. He had an expression of barely contained fury on his face.
    An expression that said he might just kill us all here and now and be done with it.
    Jordan’s eyes flashed between the two men. I realised it was the first time she or Luke had seen Shackleton outside of that magazine article.
    Mr Shackleton closed in. At the last second, his attention shifted to me.
    â€˜Peter,’ he said with a warm, grandfatherly smile, ‘how nice to see you again.’
    â€˜Thanks,’ I said, getting myself together enough to reach out and shake his hand. ‘You too.’
    â€˜And you must be Jordan Burke,’ said Shackleton, putting a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. She flinched slightly at the touch, but smiled up at him. ‘Exciting news about your mother’s pregnancy! How is she doing?’
    My hands were twitching. I tried to keep them still, straining against the sudden, violent impulse to dive over there and rip his arm right out of its socket.
    â€˜Fine,’ said Jordan. ‘Good. She’s good.’
    â€˜Excellent,’ Shackleton beamed, releasing his grip.
    I shoved my hands into my pockets. If he did anything to her, I swore I was going to kill him.
    â€˜And here’s our newest arrival!’ said Shackleton, extending a hand to Luke. ‘I trust that you and your mother have