The private lounge in the basement of ‘Tech Enterprise’ was a place where the Network agents could hang out and talk shop in. However, its cozy ambience- topped with beanbags, plush sofas, jazz music and dimmed lights- could not fool the agents. They knew it was always closely scrutinized by hidden mechanized ‘eyes’. The walls were soundproof, like any other rooms in the building. Though they could just waltz into it with relative ease, the sensors at the sides of the door tracked their actions and scanned their security passes wherever they clipped it or place it, as long as it was on them. If the security pass was not present, the alarm would sound.

And if the perpetrator was a real agent, not an intruder, he would be deeply embarrassed.

As a safety precaution, somebody had suggested retinal scan as well on the pretext that the security passes could be stolen or faked in time. Though the idea brought some displeasures from the agents, who simply wanted to discuss work in an environment like any other coffee houses on the outside, it was being seriously considered because of the possibility of highly classified information floating in the air for whoever with ears to listen to.

Isaiah spotted his favorite corner at the far end. It was the most private spot he could find. Doing some investigation of his own, he realized that the design of the lounge was such that the cameras were unable to completely ‘catch’ the spot. Feeling a little like Winston Smith who had found that little niche in his apartment which would hide him from Big Brother*, Isaiah would go to this spot and use his notebook to type out those sensitive reports which could not see light of day and therefore could not be churn out anywhere else but in the office building; and still knew the information was kept secret while he could find some semblance of privacy.

"We can sit over there…" He pointed to the vacant couch. The lounge was pretty empty on a Friday afternoon. "Coffee and tea are on the table to your right and in the refrigerator you can find sandwiches, microwavable food and some snacks. Everything is free. Just take what you want." He directed his brother. Elijah strolled over to the sofa that he pointed out with a grace that startled Isaiah.

Elijah’s personality changed was already known to Isaiah who had, in a way, became Big Brother by keeping tabs on his brother when he could. He was just heartbroken that Elijah was so different from Lijah. Looking at the ice-block, he saw the eight-year old and silently pleaded with him to come home.

No. He decided that he was not just heartbroken. He was so heartbroken, his heart wrenched and wrung tears to his eyes. Feeling the saline solution welling up, he turned away and pretended that his eyes were hurting so he could rub away the tears.

He made himself a cup of Latte and another for Elijah. When he finally went to the spot, he saw Elijah’s eyes scanning the lounge, taking in everything.

"It’s safe here. Made one for you."

"Thank you."

Isaiah wanted so much to talk about the events that had transpired in their private lives- events that could let him understand Elijah more. However, Elijah did not seemed to be going to be forthcoming with details. Isaiah could feel it. Could feel Elijah’s hostility even through the thick layers of indifference.

"What’s our nature of work?" Elijah asked blandly when Isaiah had gone silent for far too long. The words came out haltingly, almost in staccatos as Elijah was speaking though lips stretched tightly. Isaiah speculated that that was the way Elijah behaved when he was annoyed that time was passing by them- those irretrievable seconds that would make up part of their life spent on Earth.

Isaiah thought about the cases he had, the run-ins with a nefarious group called Assassins. The horrors of tracing down doomsday cults, stopping events that would render a huge part of the world in debris. But he was not the only one fighting on the good side. He was but one of many. Quiet moments like this past week was not common. Grey Man was right. Quiet moments with nothing to stir the air, with nothing to create pandemonium gave Isaiah the hope that the world was becoming a more beautiful place to live in.

And Elijah was right too. They could not- because of a few placid seconds- become complacent. That would be to choose blindness over facing the ugly side of life. And Isaiah preferred to face those hideousness squarely- to eliminate it so innocents would not get hurt again.

"Terrorists, weird happenings…basically trying to stop events that could bring about the end of the world in a bad way. I’ll give you some files to peruse later on. There’s one group that we were hot on, a very secretive and very chaotic group called the Assassins but they died down in recent years. More religion- sensitive terrorists are popping up all over the place. Most are not handled by us. We are like a last resort or when the case that needed to be crack is very urgent and no one has the time." Isaiah reiterated, not even knowing if what he spoke were true. At the moment he said them, it sounded right to his ears. Now, he was thinking if there were any loopholes.

"You mean we just do whatever they throw at us to do and that we deal mostly with terrorists," Elijah summarized. "That you have no idea about the scope of our work, because there really isn’t any. Is that it?"

Elijah was making Isaiah feel very stupid which Isaiah knew he was not. No one who fell short of "genius" would be allowed into the Network. It was a given that only highly intelligent people would be selected. The standard could get compromised during a dry spell. However, most incompetent agents were weeded out as soon as they were spotted.

"Yah, pretty much so." Isaiah mumbled. Elijah no longer terrorized him as much with his wintry chill and still form. Isaiah had always seen Elijah as his little brother and could not think of another alternative to treat Elijah. The sentence, "Elijah is my younger brother," replayed in his mind and made him feel more at ease in the snowman’s presence- though it was a forced "at ease".

"Good." Elijah concluded, without an elaboration. He sipped his coffee for the first time and something human appeared on the mien. The face cringed a little more than slightly.

"Too much sugar. I can’t drink this." And he set the coffee aside.

Isaiah was baffled. He had only put in one teaspoon of sugar. He had wanted to add in more, remembering that Elijah loved sugary stuff. Now, he was glad he did not.

"Li…Elijah…what made you join us? It’s not very pretty…the things we see…" Isaiah’s voice lowered a tone in a endeavor to attempt at private talk. If all he could talk to his brother about was office work, then he might as well not even regard Elijah as family.

Elijah gave Isaiah the thin smile that was really not a smile at all. His unwavering gaze bore down deep into Isaiah’s eyes.

"Neither is my life Isaiah. Neither is my life."

***

***

Elijah laid down on his bed. He had rented a small apartment which he moved in only a week ago. It was new, it was yet another place to retire for the night. Shifting around from place to place was a practice that he was used to. He had never developed any sentimental feelings for any places that he had housed himself in before and he was not about to start then.

He did not switch on the lights. He did not need the lights.

Memories resurfaced but he suppressed them, knowing they were a part of his life- conscious of the fact that he could not destroy them unless he destroyed his mind. So he accepted them but when they wanted to come out and play, he stopped them and buried them deeper into the recesses of his mind. Buried them more than six feet underground together with the nailed coffin he placed the old Lijah in.

A mind honed to only think. Not hope. Not remember. Only think.

He had not remembered for a very long time. The last time he remembered was five years ago when Isaiah turned out unannounced at his high school graduation. He had been shocked that Isaiah even knew which high school he attended. It was so rundown, so dilapidated and severely lacking funds. But he had been the school’s pride and joy. They could boast about his success which he felt they had played no part in. He had not spent all those lonely nights in the library, burning mid-night oil at their encouragement- at their requests.

Sitting up, he reached for the cup of tea by his bed. He preferred tea to coffee. Tea was calming and would still taste all right without sugar. Having denied of many simple pleasures in life when he was young, he learned that it was better to be completely without them than to constantly hanker after them. Sugar was one of the pleasures that his father had denied him.

After Isaiah left, his father had kept him prisoner. He was schooled at home, he was kept at home. He never got a chance to step out. That was the last day he visited the playground.

His father dealt in drugs and was very rich but no one really knew where the wealth came from until after he died. But after the funeral, his dirty wealth, which could not be disclosed, was not given to Elijah. And the wealth that were legit were all taken away by his stepmother who really did not care about him and dumped him into the hands of welfare. His whole childhood was perverse, nothing a child should have underwent. In his memories, he had not even flashbacked to the tip of the iceberg.

A strange being visited his guts and twisted it. He had forgotten the visitor, though he remembered that he used to received it very often in even greater intensity. The twisting always came before the tears.

Only this time, he would not let the tears come. He was his own person.

Lijah never needed Saiah.

***

*Winston Smith and Big Brother plus assorted ideas on BIG BROTHER are all taken from George Orwell’s, 1984. N A L: 1976