<Short story, part 1 of 3>
As the city bus passes, he steps off the curb and crosses just behind the huge vehicle. The bridge ahead glistens faintly under the streetlights, a thin mist rising from the canal below. Across the street, he turns left, and quickly paces into the city’s still sleeping heart.
Today, Peter is volunteering at a theater performance in the old community center. Back in the days, when the city had a different sound and played a slower rhythm the building used to be a synagogue. After World War II its purpose shifted as the community that once used it as a house of prayer and an educational center was erased by genocidal nazis. The walls and windows still show the Magan David and the friends of the Synagogue have never forgotten what it used to be. Peter is one of those friends.
He walks briskly, the cobblestones clicking beneath his shoes. The air feels unusually still. Within minutes he reaches the gate. It’s a tall, wrought-iron fence that seems older than the street itself. He glances over his shoulder. No one else is around. As he turns the big key, the metal lock groans softly. He opens the gate and quickly takes the three stone steps up into the small courtyard. He closes the gate but leaves it unlatched. Other volunteers will follow soon.
The entryway of the building is blocked by a heavy oak door. On the wall to the right of the door is a panel with a button, a speaker and a small camera. Peter sees his distorted reflection in the glass of the camera. He smiles faintly and presses the button.
In an alarm center, hundreds of kilometers to the north, a buzzer sounds. A lone security officer checks the screen that lits up. He sees the image of an individual. The facial recognition system detects Peter and crosschecks his presence against the information on hand. It checks out, and the thread indicator goes green. Camera’s from other angles establish that Peter is alone. The security officer confirms the computerdata and unlocks the door.
When Peter walks in, a big security monitor in the hall pops on. It shows realtime footage from the 8 camera’s guarding the perimeter around the building. Peter glances quickly at the screen, but sees nothing unusual. With the door closing behind him, he continues left into the small kitchen.
<Short story, part 1 of 3>