‘Right. Thank you. Where?’
‘Port Chana.’
‘Ah! I thought Marek spent a lot of time there just to buy hydrochloric acid.’
‘Clever girl.’
‘Don’t be so patronizing.’
‘You get aggressive when you’re worried.’
‘I’m not worried. I’m concerned you think something can go wrong.’
‘I don’t.’
‘But—’
‘But, I’ve enough experience with life to know that you should always take precautions for other people screwing up. Look, if everything goes right, in a couple of months from now the Void will be gone, and you, me and everyone else on Bienvenido and Querencia will be on board a Raiel ship heading for the Commonwealth. But if not – if something does come along to screw things up – well there are consequences for the things we’ve done. Consequences I’d rather not face. So this is an emergency fallback. Surely that’s sensible, isn’t it?’
Kysandra clenched her jaw. ‘Yes.’
‘See. What do I know?’
‘Every crudding thing.’
*
The weak state of Varlan’s economy was of no concern to the Westergate Club. Established for over fifteen hundred years, and rebuilt four times on the same spot, it epitomized how the city’s ruling class sailed on serenely through the misfortunes of others, observing their travails the way one might view the antics of a zoo animal. Slvasta arrived at the richly decorated front door a week after the election, wearing the grey suit he’d bought for public speaking during the campaign. Shame he hadn’t had the time to get it cleaned. The doorman in his immaculate black tailcoat smiled obsequiously and ushered him in. ‘Welcome back, Captain Slvasta, and my personal congratulations on your election.’
‘Thank you.’
The receptionist behind the desk gave him a very spry smile, backed up by a sultry private ’path – a wordless pulse but full of invitation. Slvasta hoped he didn’t blush too obviously as the footman led him away. As always the huge marbled interior seemed to absorb sound. He was halfway up the sweeping staircase when he saw a young woman coming down towards him. She wore a bright red dress, a colour which emphasized her long strawberry blonde hair; its bodice was tighter than was the fashion among society ladies, and the skirt had a rather daring split all the way up one side, allowing a glimpse of long and very shapely legs. Her face was familiar, which made him struggle to recall—
‘Slvasta!’ she smiled and embraced him before he had time to react. ‘Oh no,’ she said theatrically, and waved a hand in front of her face. ‘You’ve forgotten me already. And we had such a good time together.’ A private ’path gifted him the inside of a boudoir that kicked off all sorts of enjoyable memories in Slvasta’s skull. How he’d spent a long afternoon with her on that big soft bed. How it wasn’t just Bethaneve who knew how to have uninhibited fun. How they’d laughed . . .
‘Lanicia,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. It’s been a while.’ Though how he could forget that beguiling face even for a moment was a complete mystery.
‘It certainly has! I spent simply months pining after you, you mean thing. Fancy abandoning a girl after an afternoon like that!’
‘Sorry.’
‘I’m teasing, silly thing. It’s really good to see you. And you’re a National Councillor now! That’s just brilliant. I bet old conservative men choked on their breakfasts all over town the day after the election. Daddy certainly did. Have you been introduced to the Captain yet?’
‘Ah, uh, no, not yet. The Council’s opening ceremony was postponed because of the explosion.’
‘Oh, Giu, yes, that was so terrible. So! How are you? Married yet?’
‘Uh, no.’
‘Me neither.’ The smile she gave him was downright wicked. ‘I’ve still got my day villa for privacy. I’d enjoy being your mistress.’
All Slvasta could do was stand there with his mouth open. His gaze flicked to the footman, who had suddenly found something immensely interesting to stare at on the landing above. He really had forgotten how society girls behaved, their freedoms and delight in mischief.
Lanicia laughed gleefully at his expression, the confused emotions leaking through his suddenly shaky shell. ‘I’ll leave that offer open for you to consider,’ she said and started walking down the stairs. There was one final saucy wink goodbye.
Slvasta finally managed to close his mouth. He wanted to carry on watching her walk down the stairs, he wanted to go after her, he wanted to have a day, one day, away from stress and fear and anger, to be carefree just as he had been that long ago afternoon when the Skylords had visited. Lazy evenings in her day villa would never be spent full of intense discussions and momentous decisions and ideological analysis. There would be no plotting how to kill people and bring down governments and change the world. There wouldn’t be responsibility.
He closed his eyes and took a breath, allowing his heart to calm.
The footman was waiting patiently. ‘Lead on,’ Slvasta told him. The temptation was hard to fight. It wasn’t just old flings like Lanicia who were coming on strong these days. There had been interest from women ever since he was publicly elected Democratic Unity’s leader – interest which had steadily increased from the moment his candidacy for Langley was announced. Since the election, the offers had been quite brazen. It made him nervous about venturing outside Number Sixteen Jaysfield Terrace with Bethaneve. He could laugh off the attention, while enjoying the flattery. She, he knew, did not have the same liberal view of the phenomenon.
Colonel Gelasis waited for him in the Nevada suite, with all its sombre wood panelling setting the tone to match the colonel’s thoughts. This time there was no effusive greeting as he rose from behind the big glossy table. Instead there was a curt: ‘Councillor,’ and a quick squeeze of the hand.
‘Colonel.’
Gelasis waved the footman away, then straightened his uniform before sitting again. ‘I believed we had a gentlemen’s understanding?’
‘Did we?’ Slvasta said, wishing he didn’t feel quite so intimidated.
‘A quid pro quo was certainly implied. That’s why you’re now the Councillor for Langley. You got what you want, did you think that was free?’
‘No.’
‘Then would you mind explaining to me why in Uracus’s name you blew up the yalseed oil company’s depot? The city was crudding lucky that fire didn’t spread any further. As it is, the financial damage it will inflict on decent people is quite bad enough. And that’s on top of everything else the city is suffering right now because of the anti-mod movement.’
The outright accusation made Slvasta stiffen, only partly in anger. ‘I didn’t blow up anything.’
‘Of course not, not personally, you’re not an idiot, but can we say the same thing about your colleagues, eh? What would Tovakar tell us under interrogation I wonder? Or Andricea? How long would it take for her to crack if the Captain’s police were to bring her in? Apparently the process is a lot worse for women, especially when they’re young and good looking. I believe the First Officer takes a personal interest.’
Now Slvasta was deeply worried. If the colonel was using plain talk, this was no simple horse-trading arrangement any more. This was something a lot more serious. ‘Actually, they’d say the same thing. I don’t know who blew up the oil depot. Frankly, it’s the last thing I need right now.’ Which was true enough. It had taken Bethaneve two days of sifting through the scraps of information which percolated up through the network of cells to discover who might have sabotaged the oil company, then a follow-up visit from Javier and Yannrith had confirmed it. Three members from a cell on level twenty-eight had grown frustrated by the lack of action and decided to take things into their own hands, striking a definitive blow for the movement, hurting the establishment. Yannrith had to pull Javier off one of them; the man was now in hospital with broken bones and heavy blood loss. Such a show of capability and determination could have given the game away. If the Capt
ain’s police had caught them, the interrogation would have lasted until they were either dead or confessed everything. As it was, Trevene’s interest in the cells and suspected radicals had risen to dangerous levels. His agents were pressing informants hard. Three more cell members had disappeared in the last twenty-four hours. Bethaneve was busy warning their contacts.
‘The deal was: you get Langley and in return peace is restored to our streets,’ Gelasis said. ‘No more acts of sabotage, no more Shanty mobs looting and wrecking, no more union bullying of hard-pressed businesses. Life becomes civilized once more, with you acting as a conduit for legitimate concerns and complaints.’
‘That is my wish, too,’ Slvasta shot back. ‘Come on, I’ve invested everything in getting this seat. I’m not going to blow it now.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. From now on if your lowlife supporters have problems with the world, they take those problems to you. Even with drosilk sales bringing fresh cash in, the economy needs a time of stability to get back to what it was before Democratic Unity’s paranoid campaign against mods. You do know the capital is the only place that particular idiocy took hold? Rather like your voter base.’
‘People will realize—’
‘No, Slvasta. They will not realize. Because nobody is going to stir up that prejudice any more. I’m sorry about your arm. Really, I am. But you need to get over it. Your private obsession is damaging Bienvenido. Is that what you want?’
‘We have to eliminate our dependency on—’
‘You haven’t been sworn in to the National Council yet. Think carefully what you say, and remember the oath you will be taking before the Captain. Specifically, the part about protecting this world from all forms of harm.’
Slvasta glared at the colonel, trying to control his temper. He had the distinct feeling Gelasis was deliberately baiting him. This was another test to see if they were going to allow him his seat. Democratic votes were an irrelevance to those who held the true strings of power. ‘I’m going to bring it before the National Council.’
Gelasis nodded in satisfaction. ‘You do that. And at the same time you keep your hotheads quiet. That’s also your obligation, understand?’
‘Nobody is going to be blowing anything up on my watch.’ And, Uracus, it feels good looking you in the eye and being just as deceitful as you.
‘Glad to hear it. You can have a great life, Slvasta; the rewards for people in your position are enormous. I wouldn’t want you to sell yourself short.’
‘I won’t.’
‘So what’s going to happen about your engagement? Clever electioneering move that, by the way. She looked jolly pretty on your arm out there on the campaign trail. Won quite a few bachelor votes for you, I imagine.’
The change caught Slvasta by surprise. ‘We said we would wait until after the election before setting a date.’
‘Indeed. Then consider this: there is a whole city of opportunity opening up to you now. You should enjoy yourself for a while before making a smart choice.’ The colonel leaned forwards slightly, studying Slvasta closely. ‘You need a girl who will enhance your new status. After all, you do know what your little radical sweetheart did before she met you, don’t you?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘It’s different for her class, of course; we all know that, not like Lanicia. People can judge harshly.’
‘I don’t understand. Bethaneve is a Tax Office clerk.’
‘Of course she is. Well, I’d offer you lunch, but I have a rather pressing engagement. Dull but necessary; I’m sure you remember what responsibility is like. If not, you’re going to get a swift hard reminder when you take your seat. Oh, and I forgot to say: congratulations.’
*
‘We’ve underestimated them,’ Slvasta said. ‘Uracus, did we ever.’ After leaving the Westergate Club he’d collected Bethaneve from the hall of records on Wahren Street, and the two of them went directly to the house in Tarleton Gardens, where Javier and Coulan were still living.
‘Who?’ Javier asked.
‘The Captain, the First Officer. The establishment. Especially Trevene. Uracus!’ He started to pace up and down the empty lounge. ‘They know everything!’
‘What do they know?’ Coulan asked.
‘He told me: Gelasis. He sat there smirking while he told me. It’s a warning. They’ve just been laughing at us. They know it all.’
‘What?’ Bethaneve asked. ‘Focus, please.’
Slvasta gave her a broken look. ‘They know about you. I’m so sorry.’
‘What do they know about me?’
‘That you used to do narnik. How do they find these things?’
‘The same way we know Trevene’s nephew has gambling debts. That the Captain’s second daughter has just had a baby and she’s not sixteen yet. That Gelasis and Trevene are both members of the Travington Society. That the First Officer is a psycho nutcase. We hear whispers on the street and ask questions.’
‘They know Andricea is helping us, and Tovakar, too; so they’ll know about Yannrith.’
‘They know the name of every party member and union member. They’ll know which of them are activists. Their list of names and all the details will fill a whole floor of Trevene’s offices with filing cabinets. You know the one: Fifty-Eight Grosvner Place, his secret headquarters, which extends six levels below ground, and occupies the buildings on both sides.’ She went over to him and held his arm to stop him walking. ‘We know them, and they think they know us. They think we are idealists trying to bring justice to the poor through the ballot box and a bit of petty agitation. They know nothing else. They don’t know how extensive our cells really are. They don’t know about our weapons. They certainly do not know our plans. They do not know they’re about to die and we are going to sweep their whole rotten regime away.’
Slvasta looked at her, then at the other two. Seeing their calm, concerned faces, he took a long breath and nodded. ‘Okay. Sorry. He was just so crudding confident.’
‘He doesn’t know anything else,’ Coulan said. ‘People always fold for him. Nobody’s ever mounted a serious challenge to the palace since the Jasmine Avenue rebellion, and that was hardly threatening, not really. All they’re used to are small groups of radicals and thugs up from the Shanties who don’t have a clue what they’re doing. The whole concept of our organization is beyond his understanding.’
‘The explosion is a problem, though,’ Javier said. ‘Our people are getting very impatient. I’m not sure we can keep a lid on things for much longer. They want action.’
‘We agreed to a month,’ Coulan said.
‘That we did. That would suit us. But what about all our comrades? They don’t know the plan. They don’t know how big this thing goes. All they see is an election where Democratic Unity finally gained some seats, and nothing is happening. The Captain’s even put off inaugurating the National Council, which demonstrates what he thinks about democracy. We’ve primed thousands of people, promising them drastic change, and they’re still waiting. The idiots in that level twenty-eight cell who bombed the yalseed oil company depot are going to be the least of it if we don’t give the membership decisive action soon. And if that happens, if they move without us, without a coordinated plan, then it’s all over. The cell network will fragment. The Captain’s police and the sheriffs will swoop. We’ll probably have to go into exile. The whole movement will be in ruins. We lose. The end.’
Everything Javier had said made perfect sense. But . . . still Slvasta hesitated. If they started this, there would never be any going back – win or lose. ‘Bethaneve? Can we bring it forward?’
‘There’s no practical reason why not. We were waiting a month to position ourselves politically, to give you some respectability in the National Council. But seeing as how we haven’t got a National Council actually sitting yet, that has to be a secondary consideration now.’
‘The Captain is opening the Council in three days, if nobody else sets fire to anything. C
an we get phase one up and ready for that night?’
‘Yes.’
‘We need to leave at least a week between phases one and two,’ Coulan warned. ‘People have to feel the hurt from having their water supply screwed with. They need to become political. Then, once they’re angry enough, we frighten them with phase two.’
‘And put our people on the streets,’ Javier said. He walked over to Bethaneve and Slvasta, putting his thick arms around them. Coulan joined the embrace.
‘Together we are strong,’ Bethaneve said.
‘Together we stand,’ Coulan said.
‘Together we will succeed,’ Javier said.
‘I will never turn away from you, my true friends,’ Slvasta said. He squeezed them all hard. ‘Together we have the courage we need. Now, let us liberate this world.’
3
The Hevlin’s orangery stretched along one side of the hotel’s neat little central courtyard, where fountains played and fig trees formed a tall canopy to ward off the midday sun. The table where Kysandra sat was right next to the glass, with a gentle breeze drifting down from the open windows above. A snow-white tablecloth was laid out with shining silver cutlery, and the cut-crystal goblets sparkled in the dappled sunlight. It was Madeline who served the fish starter – smoked macod wrapped in kall leaves, and drizzled with a lime sauce.
‘Enjoy,’ Madeline said in a very knowing tone.
‘Thank you,’ Kysandra replied levelly.
‘Would you like more wine?’
‘Not for me.’ She looked over the table at her companion.
Deavid smiled happily. ‘No, thanks.’
‘Madam.’ Madeline gave a small bow and left.
Kysandra hoped Deavid hadn’t noticed how smug Madeline had been. Every time that happened, Kysandra couldn’t help wondering if Nigel’s domination technique was slipping. After all, I have finished up spending a lot of time on my back in the Hevlin’s bedrooms recently – just not quite the way she and Ma intended. The thought made her grin across the table at Deavid’s handsome face. His answering smile was worshipful. They’d met five months ago. He was twenty-two, the youngest son in a family who owned a respectably sized carpentry business in Jaxtowe, fifty kilometres to the south. With Adeone’s prosperity rising dramatically over the last two years, he was one of many salesmen arriving in town to seek fresh markets. He played football for the Jaxtowe team, which kept him in very good shape, and when she ran her fingers all over him his ebony skin was gorgeously smooth to the touch. Best of all, he made her laugh. His cheery, mildly disrespectful attitude was a rarity among the young men she got to meet, who were all so desperately serious would-be businessmen or entrepreneurs. All on their way up – or believing they were.
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