I stepped out of Zero’s office a free man. Zero had jumped on his desk to shake my hand, welcoming me back. ‘The prodigal son!’ he had exclaimed, before telling 58 to get me settled. Begrudgingly (for both of us), he had agreed.

  ‘And boys,’ Zero had said, a familiar fog suddenly misting his eyes. ‘You’ll need these.‘ He handed us both a toffee sweet and kicked us out.

  58 was quiet as we walked, which was fine by me. I shoved my now unbound hands into my pockets. He’s shown his true colours now.

  As we approached a corner, a thumping sound began. Tremors emanated throughout the ground and the unmistakable sound of footsteps reverberated within the bleached corridor. A big meaty hand clasped the corner wall, pulling an ogre of a man into view. His eyes were sunken into his face, his brow low set giving him a permanent scowl. His hair was wild and unkempt, kept out of his face by short braids, with bits of bone, twine and other trinkets intertwined withing them. His skin was dark and mottled, a few days removed from his last wash, and when he talked his lips pulled back over teeth like an ape. He was nearly three times my height, his brolic build straining against the suit he had stuffed himself in. Hair exploded from his sleeves and his collar. Attached to his waist was a huge femur, the end dragging along the floor. His eyes were pinpoints, swivelling furiously in their sockets as the neanderthal looked us over and tried to form a thought.

  ’58… and 72,’ he settled on. His voice came out as low growl.

  ‘Number 1,’ I replied. ‘Don’t push yourself too hard, you’re gonna get an aneurysm.’ Again, a long pause as his 16-bit brain struggled to process the word.

  ‘You speak to Zero?’ he grunted.

  ‘Yes we did , big boy! And he’s very proud of you! And he said I’m going to working here again from now on! 1 scowled.

  ‘Not happy. You very rude.’ I stuck my bottom lip out at the very first Shade.

  ‘Aww! Does someone need a nap?’

  ‘Knock it off, 72,’ interjected 58. ‘I’m sure Zero will tell you all about it,’ he said, addressing 1. 1 gave a thoughtful grunt before lumbering past us, forcing us to press ourselves agaisnt the wall so he could pass.

  ‘Will tell Zero, not happy. 72, hurtful Shade,’ he mumbled as he thumped away.

  58 and I continued walking after he left.

  ‘You know,’ he said, ‘you could try to get along with people, if you’re gonna work here.’

  ‘Why should I? It’s not as if they’ll forget their hate so fast. At least we’ll know where we stand.’

  ‘In the interest of working together.’

  ‘Here’s the difference between you and me, 58. I’m not afraid of the truth. I don’t bury my head in the sand!’ I spat venomously. 58 scratched his stubble.

  ‘No but you are an impulsive moron. And you should be in irons right now.’

  ‘Thanks buddy,’ I scoffed. 58 didn’t acknowledge, a silence which continued till 58 opened a door and a blast of frigid air assaulted us. We stepped out onto a large terraced garden; at least, it had been a garden. Now all they were growing were icicles, frozen visages of exotic plants and flora. The Alaskan waste spread out beyond the balcony, the last of the day’s light sparkling off the crisp snow. My breath condensed in a plume of white steam and I thought how easy it would’ve been to jump the railing and make a break for it.

  ‘Here to kill me 58? Shoot me behind the proverbial dumpster?’ 58 leant against the balcony and gazed into the white void. His misty breath whirled into nothing and his head dropped.

  ‘You don’t recognise this place do you? You probably never came here back when,’ he said. I took a quick look around.

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  ‘Somekind of garden? Not very wise to build one in the open.’

  ‘Take a closer look.’ I leant down and had a look at a frozen plant. It was a rose, its muted purple colour locked in place, tinged with blue ice. It had thrived once but now the ice had overtaken it. It wasn’t a plant that would put up any sort of fight against these elements. The cold had come quickly and destroyed it.

  ‘Was there a building here once?’ I asked 58, twirling the rose in between my fingers. The stem snapped, the bud shattering on the floor, its cold beauty vanished.

  ‘Pioneering forcefield technology, actually. The boffins in the lab made it, and loaned it to 50 so she could set up this garden. An oasis in the desert,’ he gestured to the white plain in front of him, the only contrasting colour was a deep pine green and the black rocks that jutted through. ‘I used to come here to chat and relax. Sample some fresh herb tea or have some tropical fruit. Mangos are my favourite, you know.’ I leant on the balcony beside 58.

  ‘Then what? Forcefield failed?’ I asked. 58 shook his head.

  ‘Zero issued an order, after you left, ordering it to be taken down. They didn’t even let 50 relocate her plants.’

  ‘What for? Zero got a pollen allergy I don’t know about.’

  ‘Something about needing to consolidate our resources. It was like that all over Denali. Passion projects and hobbies beyond stamp collecting were thrown out unceremoniously. Actually, I think they banned 89 from going out to collect them. The forcefield generator was returned under research and development. And that was it for the Oasis of Denali.’ 58 went quiet for a bit. I looked upon the emptiness in front of me. Through many a year, many a harsh winter, Denali had been home. Had felt like home, even if my brethren were irritating. But not anymore, I reminded myself viciously. You severed those bonds on purpose. This is just a nest of vipers.

  ‘So you see,’ spoke 58. ‘Denali, the Shade Organisation, Zero, they’ve all been changing. And I hate it!’ 58’s knuckles bleached white on the railing. ‘I’d thought that it was your doing for all this time but it seems the rot had set in far longer.’ He relased his grip and held his face in his hand. ‘Goddamn it,’ he said wearily. ‘How long have I been an unwitting pawn in Zero’s game!’

  ‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘ So you don’t agree with Zero?’

  ‘You kidding me? Hell no. I just didn’t say it to his face when, you know, he could have killed me at any moment! And I don’t agree with you either!’ he added quickly. Against my will a smile crept onto my face, so I turned to face the Alaskan outdoors.

  ‘What’ll you do now then?’ I asked.

  ‘Not slaughter my comrades in cold blood, that’s for sure,’ he grumbled. ‘I don’t know. I need to think.’ There was a silence between us that let a certain kinship between me and 58 germinate. It left a bad taste in my mouth; he was a terminal do-gooder after all, and I a renegade, but you don’t often get to choose your bedfellows in mutiny.

  ‘So…’began 58 cautiously. ‘Your afterlife, then? I didn’t realise, 72.’

  ‘What? That not everyone is happy at having their afterlife stolen from them? To be reborn again unendingly? The Buddhists have a word for that. Suffering.’

  ‘That’s a truth every Shade has to grapple with. I’ve dealt with it much longer than you and even I can’t say I have the answer. But even so, to throw your life away like this is…it’s not healthy.’

  ‘Healthy? In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re dead,’ I said grimly. 58 chuckled.

  ‘Well, even so,’ he offered. ‘We’re not perfect, but there’s a great amount of good you can do as a Shade.’

  Anger surged through me, but I let it pass. ‘That’s where we differ. The Organisation as it stands does not do good, they do peace. Good requires action. And I’ve done more for the path of good than any Shade!’

  ‘What you’ve done is borderline evil. You’d do well to reflect on that, and not delude yourself otherwise.’

  ‘I know what I am. I’m the sword, I’m the scales! I’m the bloody axe!’

  58 shook his head. ‘I don’t believe that 72, and I don’t believe you believe that! That’s the real tragedy about you. Fate has made you a good man, but you seem intent on choosing a different path.’

  ‘Oh,don’t talk to me about fate,’ I grumbled. ‘I’m well aware that we’re all stuck here because some cosmic dice throw was crappy.’

  ‘That’s luck. Fate is altogether more…structured.’ I sniffed at his semantic. ’72,’ he then asked. ‘Why good? Why not go scorched earth, if you can?’

  ‘I swear if this is some garbage about me being chosen by fate-‘ 58 quickly cut me off.

  ‘Just asking!’ he said. ‘My mistake…’ he mumbled. I waited then said,

  ‘You ever wonder about what we could have had when we die? What should come next?’

  ‘I’m like 200 years older than you. It’s crossed my mind from time to time.’

  ‘And it doesn’t bother you that it’s kept from us?’ 58 shook his head.

  ‘My focus is this life and the duty I have here.’ I gripped the railing, my face scrunching up into a scowl.

  ‘Well, it bothers me. I’ve carried the torch for so long. Something won’t let me drop it, but if it comes between me and my afterlife…I’ll slice my own arm off if it come to it.’ A gust of freezing wind made my hands retreat into my pockets, my fingers curling around something there. A pebble? I took it out. It was the toffee sweet. I stared at it, Zero’s glassy eyes staring back. A sour taste in my mouth, I reached my arm back and catapulted it over the edge. 58 watched me then fished his own sweet out.

  ‘Yeah…’ he said. ‘Perhaps you will.’ His sweet followed mine into the white beyond.