Managing Death by Trent Jamieson Page A

I wonder what else it might just eat. The building is self-healing; the glass had apparently grown back within a few minutes of me blacking out. Looking at it, the glass appears thicker – dark filaments line it, some sort of reinforcement, I guess. Number Four has grown paranoid.
    A familiar face pokes around the door wearing a big grin that fails to obscure the concern behind his eyes.
    ‘Don’t people knock anymore?’
    ‘What a mess,’ Alex says.
    ‘No, this is what my office usually looks like bar the blood and paper.’ I glance around; the glass has already gone. ‘In fact it looks a little neater than usual.’
    Alex is dressed in his uniform. He is a Black Sheep but, unlike Tim, I couldn’t lure him back into the fold. He lost family like the rest of us in the Schism. His father Don saved my life and Alex kept up the tradition.He got me out of town when the worst of the Schism was going down. He saved me later, too, when I came back from Hell, thinking I had failed in my Orpheus Manoeuvre, and lost Lissa. Without his help, Australia really would have sunk into a Regional Apocalypse. I feel a bit guilty that I haven’t been keeping in touch with him nearly enough. But seeing him always reminds me of Don, and my parents, and Don’s girlfriend Sam. I can’t help wondering what he thinks when he sees me. He’s my link into the Queensland Police Force. I trust him almost as much as I trust Tim.
    ‘So this is the first time this has happened?’ he asks.
    ‘Well, not exactly,’ I glance at Alex, we’ve been through a few bad times together. He knows that I’ve been shot at before. ‘Not since October, and the Schism.’
    ‘Two months.’ He shakes his head.
    ‘Yeah, no wonder I was getting used to not being shot at.’
    ‘You’re understandably shaky.’
    ‘No, I’m pissed off. It happens whenever people start shooting at me. Bloody hell, Alex, don’t pull this shit on me. I don’t need you telling me I’m all right feeling nervous. I need to know what’s going on.’
    Alex sits down. ‘I’m more worried about this than you could believe. People shooting at you tends to lead to scary places.’ Right now, the way Alex grits his jaw brings Don back to me. I miss the old bugger. I miss them all. ‘You’ve an alarming tendency to draw trouble to you, Steven.’
    ‘I’m trying not to make it a habit.’
    ‘Yeah, I know. I want to help you with this but I’ve been told explicitly that this isn’t my area. They’ve got someone else in mind. The moment Tim called for help –’
    ‘What? Tim called who?’ He was only supposed to call Doug. I guess he’s just used to thinking for me.
    ‘Me, but once he did, I had to alert my bosses. Major incidents are flagged, and someone trying to kill the current RM is a major incident, now.’ Alex sighed. ‘I know you like to sort out your disputes inhouse. But after Morrigan … Well, you know, the rules have changed.’
    ‘So who are they sending in?’
    ‘A new group, federal not state. Still police, though. I hadn’t heard about them until about an hour before I came over here.’ Alex scowls. ‘They’re called Closers. Seem to know an awful lot about you.’
    So, another government department. I’ll get Tim to do some digging.
    There’s always someone poking around here. Unofficially, of course, because the work we do at Mortmax can’t be official. Unofficially we could tell them to piss off, but unofficially they could cause a lot of trouble for us.
    ‘I hate this,’ I say. ‘Bloody governments.’
    ‘They’re not too fond of Mortmax, either. Look, the paint hasn’t even dried on this department yet. Noneof them will have much experience in dealing with the things that are dumped on their desks.’
    ‘So why aren’t people like you involved?’
    ‘Why do you think?’
    ‘You’re regarded as compromised? Guilt by association.’ I frown. ‘Don’t they trust you at work anymore, Alex?’
    Alex scowls. ‘If you were