The grey dawn would peer through Ben’s curtains and weakly brighten his cluttered room. He grunted and reached out to grab his clock, checking the time. “Ugh, seven…oh it’s weekend.” He tossed the clock down the back of the bedside table and rolled over to have a lie in. Yesterday’s events danced through his mind and he found himself restless to the point of an early weekend rise.
He had replenished some of his basics while on his way back from SS9 yesterday. He prepared himself a cup of instant coffee and a bowl of cereal. “Crunchy squares…hm, wouldn’t mind some bacon, eh Abi?” He glanced over at the little cube on the counter. He had a few of them dotted around the house. Everyone had an Abi these days and he got his free from work, back when they used to value employees.
-I AM NOT SURE, PLEASE REPHRASE THE QUESTION-
“I said I want bacon.”
-HERE’S A LIST OF LOCAL STOR–
“Shut up, dumb robot.”
-GOING QUIET-
Ben tucked into his crunchy squares and pulled a face. They were bland and cardboardy, but they were cheap. He strolled into the living room and perched carefully before asking Abi to turn the TV on.
The news, which seemed to play all day on a loop, blurred out. It spoke about how the riots in SS11 had been quietened and had people offering apologies for their involvement. Several were arrested and would be looking at a tough sentence. “Hm, serves ‘em right, freeloaders complaining, see how they’d do in my shoes, working all day and still not being able to afford food.” Ben slurped milk off his spoon and dropped it into his bowl, it rattled as he set it down on the side table along with yesterday''s bowl. He cleaned the inside of his teeth with his tongue as he watched the rest of the news, bleary as usual.
Ben was overcome with an urge to call David from SS9. He wanted to know if there was any progress, but it was the weekend and way too early, he’d feel guilty if he answered. He picked his phone up and scrolled through the contacts, pausing over David, “Maybe later.” He continued scrolling and stopped at Wayne, then called.
“Hello?”
“Wayne?”
“Yes, is this Ben?”
“Yeah, sorry to call–”
“It’s eight in the morning, pal, what do you want?”
“I just wanted to ask about that support section you’re at.”
There was a considerable pause, “Go on then.”
Ben adjusted himself, “What’s it like? I saw riots on TV is all, got a bit concerned.”
“It’s great.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, a real marshmallow roast.”
Ben frowned. “Right.”
“I can’t really talk, I have duties.”
“Duties?” Ben held back a chuckle.
“Yeah, they don’t let you live here free of charge. It’s meaningful work and worth the effort though.”
“Ok…”
“Listen, don’t call again, ok?”
“Sorry?”
“You’re a nice enough guy, but I’m not interested in talking to you. You get me?”
“I get–”
“Delete my number.”
“Sure.”
Wayne had hung up before he finished. Ben checked the details of Wayne''s contact report. “Hm. Odd.” He pursed his lips. The sound of tyres on gravel pulled his gaze to the living room window. Probably for the neighbours, they always park in front of my house, ignorant pricks.
Ben was caught off guard when his door rattled with a few thumping knocks. “One minute!” Ben darted into the bedroom to change into something decent and thundered back downstairs. The door thumped once more as he pulled it open, “Hold your horses, I said one–” Ben frowned at seeing two police officers in yellow high vis standing outside.
“Good morning, are you Ben Yeoman.”
“Er, yeah, why?” He looked between the two men. They were like twins in their uniform, with straight faces and sharp noses.
“I’m PC Forsythe, and this is my partner PC Hemsworth.”
Ben nodded, mouth half open. “Yeah, what’s this about?”
“You are under arrest for an alleged breach of the Terrorism Act and a breach of the Communications Act.”
“Wha–”
The officer raised his hand to cut Ben short and read out the caution: “You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court.”
“For what? What did I do?”
“I just told you, sir, I need you to come with me.”
“Come with you where? I haven’t done anything!”
The other officer pushed past Ben to enter his home.
“Oi!” Ben turned to stop the policeman but was yanked out of the house from behind, forced against the wall and cuffed.
A few of his neighbours had come out to watch from their doorstep, which added a sprinkle of embarrassment.
“I didn’t do anything!” Ben tried to anchor his foot, but it was no use, the large officer wrenched him away from the wall and shoved him into the back of the police car. “Argh, I hit my head, what’s going on?”
The car door slammed and his breath puffed up the window as he watched the arresting officer enter his house to join the other.
They were in there for about forty minutes, leaving Ben to stew in a mixture of anxiety and fury. He resigned himself to his fate when the first officer came out holding a bag. The second officer followed with several plastic bags.
“What are you taking from my house?”
“Evidence.” The officer said as he slid into the driving seat.
“Evidence of what. I want a solicitor.”
“No problem.”
“I want my call.”
“When we get to the station your rights will be applied, Mr Yeoman, right now you’re under arrest and due for processing.”
Ben huffed and wiggled in the seat to get comfy. “Ridiculous, you’ll have egg on your face you know.”
The police car''s electric motor whirred into life and they zipped off towards the station.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Processing was a drag. Ben had to give all of his details to a screen with an officer standing behind him. They strip-searched him, shoved him around and led him to a cold room. It had a barred window and the interior was painted a sickly green. There was a blue, plastic chair, reminiscent of the one which the SS9 community advisor office had.
An officer entered the cell after about an hour, giving Ben a flash of hope that the monotony was about to come to an end. “Mr Yeoman, I’ve come to remove your cuffs.”
“Perfect.” Ben smiled, figuring this was his moment of freedom. Surely they would have realised their mistake by now. He stood up and faced the wall to present his linked wrists.
The policewoman uncuffed him and left, closing the door behind her before he could say a word.
“Hello?” Ben walked up to the door and tried it, locked. “For fuck sake!” Ben kicked the chair and sent it skittering away till it bumped against the wall. “How long am I sposed to be in here? And where is my call?”
Another hour, or maybe two passed, Ben wasn’t to know as there wasn’t a clock to keep track. The clanking of the door lock rustled and Ben stood up quickly, hands on hips. In came the arresting officer and he nodded. “We shall take you for questioning, sir.”
“I want a phone call first.”
The officer frowned and clenched his jaw. “No problem.”
Ben was led down the corridor to another small room. It had a phone in it, one of those old landline ones. “I need my phone, it’s got my numbers in it.”
The officer sniffed, “I’ll fetch it for you.”
Ben heard the door lock and was left staring at the dull grey phone for what felt like another hour. He tried to keep as calm as possible but it was taking a lot of energy not to smash the handset against the wall.
The door unlocked again.
“About time, for god’s sake, how long are you going to leave me waiting in these rooms?” Ben’s face was painted with a beet-coloured rage.
“Calm down, Mr Yeoman, do you often lose your temper like this?”
Ben raised his eyebrows and sat down slowly, realising what the officers were up to. Stressing him out, getting him frazzled, very clever. “Sorry, it’s been a morning, don’t you think?” He caught the officer''s gaze with his.
“I understand, sir.”
Ben sneered, “Is that my phone then.”
“Yes.”
“Alright, leave it there I’ll make my call.”
The officer placed a small piece of paper and a pencil in front of Ben alongside his mobile phone. “Take the number down you wish to ring, I cannot leave you with your device.”
“But–”
“Do not try to use your phone to call any number.”
Ben looked up as the officer leaned over, both his hands placed on the table. Tentatively he searched through his contacts. They were all people he never spoke to anymore. Folks from his past that he’d once had a fleeting acquaintance with that amounted to nothing more than a few trips to the pub, most from work…what a sad rolodex this was. He stopped on the one person who might give him a glimmer of hope. David. Ben scratched the number on the notepad with the blunt pencil and nodded to the officer.
The officer pushed a key into the back of the phone unit and turned it. “Unlocked for one call, one call only, if they don’t answer, ring the bell up there and we’ll be back with your phone if you need another number.”
“That’ll be another hour will it?” Muttered, Ben.
“Sorry, sir?”
“Nothing.”
The officer walked out and locked Ben in the room with the phone.
“Right, David, let’s see if you can help me out here.” Ben punched the numbers in, the heavy dial pad was quite satisfying to use. Ben nibbled at his thumbnail while the line connected and the phone rang. It rang about five times before the sound of the call connecting rustled.
“Good afternoon, SS9 switchboard.”
“Oh, hello, please could I speak to David Blakely?”
“One moment.”
“Thank you.”
“May I take your name?”
“Ben Yeoman, I spoke to David–”
“Connecting you.”
“Thanks…”
“Afternoon, Ben!”
David’s jolly call opening sent a warming swirl up through Ben’s body. “Oh thank, God.” Ben smiled. “I’m so sorry to bother you, David.”
“No bother at all, hey, call me Dave!”
Ben nodded, “Thanks, Dave. I’ve been arrested…”
Dave chuckled.
Ben was set back a moment by his response.
“Oh my, Ben. What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?”
“They haven’t told me, something about terrorism, I haven’t done anything of that sort, it’s madness!”
“Calm down, Ben.” David’s voice was cosy and warm.
Ben took a deep breath.
“I’ll have an associate of mine come down, he’s a legal advisor.”
“Oh thank you, honestly I didn’t expect there would be anything you could do.”
“Hey, this is the Support Section, the clue is in the name, we deal with all sorts of issues, I’ll inform the station, I imagine they’ll want to ask you some questions before our legal advisor arrives, have them wait, Ben.”
“Thanks, Dave!”
“Bye, Ben.”
Ben dropped the receiver and smiled smugly.
As predicted by David, the police, once given word of his legal aid took Ben into the interrogation room.
Ben sat across from the two officers with arms folded.
“Hi, Ben.”
“Howdy.” Ben nodded.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“No.”
“You were told about a breach of the terrorism act.”
Ben shrugged.
“Nothing about that rings any bells?”
Ben shook his head.
“For the record, Mr Yeoman shook his head.”
Ben frowned, “I am not answering questions until I get my legal advisor.”
“We understand, it’s just a few preliminary questions, to make sure we aren’t wasting your time.”
“Wasting my time? I’ve been here for hours sitting in a square room.”
The officers looked at each other before the lead interrogator reached under the desk and dropped a clear plastic bag with a black box inside, upon the table.
“Do you recognise this?”
Ben shook his head.
“You should, it came from your house.”
Ben leaned over and inspected it. “It’s Abi.”
The officer nodded. “You like to talk to, Abi?”
Ben sneered, “You’re supposed to, it links with your smart devices, has nothing to do with liking.”
The officer shrugged. “You had a conversation with it yesterday.”
“No. I asked it to turn the TV on.”
“How are you getting on financially, Mr Yeoman?”
“Nothing to do with you, where is my fuckin’ legal aid?”
The officer raised his hands, “Calm down Mr Yeoman, please.”
“I’d like to see you be calm after being squashed in a room for hours for no reason.”
“Are you struggling with your bills, Mr Yeoman?” The shorter, pudgy officer asked.
Ben swept his gaze over to him, “I don’t see what this has to do with you slapping cuffs on me.”
The officer leaned back and folded his arms, allowing the lead interrogator to chime in with a follow-up. “Do you often get aggressive, or violent, Mr Yeoman?”
“No.”
“So you had a lapse or something? Perhaps due to your circumstances?”
Ben tutted and shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Well Mr Yeo–”
“I won’t answer any more of your stupid questions until my legal aid is here.”
“Could be hours, sir, we might have you out of here in the next ten minutes if there are no issues, we just want to ask questions.”
Ben was tempted to give in and answer away, get out of here and back home. He glanced at the thin window at the top of the room. He bit his bottom lip, remembering David’s advice. “I’ll wait.”
“Very well.” The officer sighed and they both stood to leave. “If you want to speak just say so and we’ll be right in.”
Ben looked down at his feet as the officers left and locked the door behind them.
It took another hour but Ben’s legal aid arrived and joined him in the room. “Hi, Benjamin, I’m Sebastian.”
“Are you from SS9?”
“That’s right.” Sebastian wore a brown suit. He was tall, slender and bald but for the broken halo of grey hair around his head. “I’ve had a chance to look at the evidence for your case.”
Ben shuffled in his chair and sat up, looking hopeful. “Great.”
“It’s not great, Ben, ok, did you say something about making a bomb to blow up your mortgage lender''s office?”
Ben’s eyes widened. “Ehm…” he remembered asking Abi how to make a bomb.
“Just be honest with me, Benjamin, if I know the truth I can defend it, tell me what happened.”
“I don’t get it, how could they know?”
“Right now that doesn’t matter, they know. Did you do it?”
“Alright, yes, I said it, as a joke!”
“I understand, Ben. But you also have a complaint lodged against you for threatening behaviour over the phone.”
Ben shook his head. “Oh my god, this is crazy” He started to sniff and cry into his palms.
“It’s ok. We can get you through this.”
“I did tell the guy I’d ram the phone up his arse, then he disconnected the call.”
“Right, then you asked Abi about making a bomb, yes?”
“Yes, as a joke!”
“They will ask why anyone would joke with a robot, Ben, you understand this.”
“Yes…but–”
“We shall tell the officers the truth, and the predicament of your situation, Mr Blakely will be able to help as well.”
“Oh thank you, really I didn’t want to do it, it was a joke.”
“I understand, Ben.” Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. “In the meantime, watch your mouth.”