Free The Book of Levi by Mark Clark Page A

quickly.
    ‘Yes, as a matter of fact I do have a little surprise for you both,’ he said with a sing song ‘I know something you don’t know’ tone to his voice. He sat back and sipped his champagne.
    ‘Well?’ asked Elizabeth after some time of watching him sip champagne. She was intrigued. ‘Are you going to tell us?’
    ‘What time is it?’ Leslie asked casually.
    ‘What time is it?’ parroted Damien. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
    ‘It’s got everything to do with anything,’ Leslie replied cryptically.
    ‘Sorry, you’ve lost me,’ Damien replied. ‘It’s two or three minutes to eleven. And past my bedtime.’
    ‘Mine too,’ said Elizabeth, trying to guess the reason for Leslie’s obvious excitement. She looked up through the porthole to the stars and then over at the satellite. Then around the room for any clues. ‘I give up,’ she said with a smile.
    She sipped on her champagne with her achingly sensual blue-green eyes piercing Leslie’s soul across the rim of the flute. This was his moment. She would love him for this. This of all things: connection; a wide, wide world; a new age. And he was about to reveal it.
    ‘Lady and gentleman,’ he announced loudly, here is to our health, to the health of Corporate City and to the health of all the world cities. Cheers!’ He held up his glass in salute and the others followed, looking askance at one another as they did so. Damien was about to say, ‘What world cities?’ but only got as far as ‘What worl . . .’ when Leslie opened the throttle on the sound control to his computer and static rasped into the room.
    ‘Do you have to do that?’ Damien asked above the minor din. ‘It’s a tad disconcerting.’
    But Elizabeth had stopped sipping her champagne and was watching Leslie closely. She squinted her eyes and tilted her head in silent interrogation.
    He returned her stare with the champagne flute still to his mouth and with his other hand resting on a button beneath the microphone on his desk.
    A voice invaded the room.
    ‘This is U.K. 1 from London listening for Sydney, Australia. Do you read me Leslie? Over.’
    As far as Damien’s reaction went, the voice may as well have been a bat suddenly flapping in. He stood up in a chaotic flurry, smashing his champagne glass in the process.
    ‘What the hell!’ he bellowed. ‘What the hell?’
    Elizabeth, by contrast, was carved in stone.
    Leslie smirked in triumph as he replied, ‘Yes, Sidney. I’m here again. Over.’
    ‘No. No. We’re Sydney. We’re Sydney. Not him,’ whispered Damien, shaking his hands at Leslie so that he could recognise his mistake.
    ‘That’s his name,’ Leslie whispered back. ‘Now shhh.’
    Damien didn’t know what to do. His eyes were darting about and he had become a bag of worms, uncertain where to squirm to. His heart was beating like ‘Achilles Last Stand’. He was a ball of adrenaline.
    ‘Nice to speak with you again, hopefully at more leisure. Do you have your prime-minister there? Over.’
    ‘No, but I have our president. Here she is.’ Leslie smiled as he handed the microphone to Elizabeth. Timidly, she took it.
    ‘This is Elizabeth Dawson,’ she said. ‘I am president of Corporate City. Over.’
    ‘Hold on,’ replied the voice. And another voice came into the room.’
    ‘Greetings, President Dawson,’ it said. It was a male voice, probably from a man of middle years. It was an odd voice; a little high-pitched and a bit raspy, but it was unmistakably British. ‘This is Prime Minister Green from London. It is a pleasure to speak with you. Leslie may have told you that you are the first city on-line in the southern hemisphere.’
    As Green continued, Elizabeth was incredulous to learn what Leslie had already learned the previous night. Then she asked, ‘Of these other twenty two cities, how many are stable and how many are democracies? Over.’
    ‘It’s about fifty-fifty at this stage,’ replied Green, ‘but I’m