I Will Find You

A short piece of fiction based on the 2008 BBC drama "The Last Enemy" starring Benedict Cumberbatch

Stephen Ezard sat motionless behind his small wooden desk in the spacious living area of his apartment in Cholmeley, Highgate. The views over London were breath-taking but he his mind was focused inward.

He felt like a stranger in his own home. The intruders had destroyed almost anything that could be considered a personal possession associated with his former life before T.I.A.

Amidst the chaos and confusion he had found a single photograph of his family, taken back in the days when the Ezard brothers were kids and their parents still alive.

One photograph was all that remained of this former life. He had found it in one of his mother's old cookery books. The book probably hadn't been considered 'dangerous' and thus had just been thrown on the floor. Or maybe Eleanor had rescued and placed the photo there as a small act of mercy? He didn't know and he didn't care but the photograph was now hidden in his shoe in a small plastic pouch.

Stephen's eyes were red. He had cried silent tears ever since he had discovered the little tag on the inside of his left arm. Smaller than a grain of rice it he could hardly even feel it there, right beneath the skin. The thought that he was now part of a monitored society was almost too much to bear. The small tag would inform them of every move he made. It denied him access to certain public buildings as well as certain forms of transport and communication and he wouldn't be able to leave the country.

He was now Stephen Ezard, UNAS, whose movements and contacts would be monitored constantly. Eleanor had made it sound so harmless, had even congratulated him on this fresh opportunity to finally be able to fully concentrate on his work without interruption, but he knew that he had lost his personal freedom forever.

His life would never be the same again. They were watching him even in his flat, he was certain of it, although he hadn't found the camera yet.

Another tear fell down Stephen's check. In his mind's eye he saw again Yasim, the only woman he had ever loved. Yasim, his brother's widow whom he had fallen headlong in love with. It was through her that he had discovered that there was another side to him, that there was more to him than the mathematical genius the world saw in him. And now she was gone.

He could see her clearly in his mind's eye, smiling and laughing while she looked after the refugees in her camp. And he was there, too, working alongside her.

Stephen smiled bitterly at the thought.

Before he'd known Yasim he wouldn't even travel by public transport without a face mask, let alone touch sick people with his bare hands.

But all this had changed over the past few weeks. He remembered how he had held his feverish brother in his arms, there, in that dirty alleyway where they'd spent the night and how his sweaty head had touched his face. The thought of catching a disease hadn't scared him anymore. And later in the hospital after he'd taken the blood sample from the dying Arab man he'd even taken off his latex gloves and held his hand.

Stephen let out a shuddering sigh. Where was Michael? Had they killed him? Eleanor had alluded to it just before she left his flat.

He swallowed and briefly closed his eyes. The thought was overwhelming. They had reconciled – sort of – in the little time they'd had together. So many things had been left unspoken, but for the first time in both their lives a bond had begun to form between them and now he may never see Michael again.

And with Michael possibly dead – what had happened to Yasim? Where was she now? He hoped, no prayed that she had somehow made it back to the mainland, that she was safe and on her way back to Afghanistan. He clung to this hope with all he had. It was the one thought that kept him sane.

"I will find you" he had promised her. But he didn't even know where, or how, to look for her.

Further tears fell.

He almost wished they had assassinated him also. Anything was better than this. 'Why haven't they?' he wondered. Maybe, just maybe, because they still saw some use in him? Would they possibly approach him again sometime in the future and ask him to work for them?

He was – after all – not just Stephen Ezard, UNAS, but also Stephen Ezard, author of Ezard's Theorem and youngest Fields Medalist.

Stephen straightened his shoulders and sat up just a little taller. He was good. He knew he was. And so did they. They knew they needed bright scientists like him, that's why they hadn't killed him together with this brother.

And at the same time they were scared of him; he realized this now.

A tiny smile formed on Stephen's face. Yes, he was a mathematical genius, and if anyone could beat the system it would be him.

He would jump at the challenge. He would find a way to override the system, no matter how long it would take, no matter how hard it would be.

"Yasim" he whispered softly. "I will find you".

Disclaimer:

This story is based upon the 2008 BBC series of 'The Last Enemy'. All characters and situations other than my own belong to the BBC. I do not benefit financially or otherwise from this site or my works.