Retalio

by Alison Morton

  ‘I’ve made you breakfast.’ She spooned the eggs onto two plates and added a slice of tinned ham to each. I called Atrius and we ate in silence. Anna set mugs of tea down on the table, but hovered by the sink.

  ‘János went out last night,’ she said. ‘He couldn’t see anything.’

  I twisted round to face her. ‘But what about the curfew?’

  She shrugged and gave a short laugh. ‘We don’t let things like that stop us. He said there was nobody there, but he noticed the front door had been forced.’

  Gods.

  ‘He’s gone to check this morning. There’s a newsagent nearby, so he’ll pretend to be going to buy a paper. He isn’t back yet.’ Her face tightened, but she merely turned and started washing up. I exchanged looks with Atrius.

  ‘We’ll go now, Anna. We can’t endanger you further.’

  ‘Every day is dangerous. You’d better wait for János.’

  ‘We’ll wait downstairs. Thank you for the breakfast.’

  * * *

  ‘Didn’t you trust her?’

  Atrius leant back against the tenement side wall, his knee bent, one foot flat against the brickwork. Hidden from casual passers-by in this covered passageway diagonally across the road, we could see Anna’s entrance door between the shuttered up shops. If János was alone, well and good, if accompanied or followed, we could escape through the passageway into the insulae blocks behind us. Thrown up during a property boom last century, they were full of narrow alleys and hiding places.

  ‘I’m not sure. Miklós told me to trust no one. He’s dealt with this Anna for years apparently, but how do we know what pressures people are under these days?’

  ‘Heads up,’ Atrius said and peeled himself off the wall and set off up the street on our side.

  János was ambling down the opposite side of the street, folded newspaper in one hand, cigarette in the other. He took a long puff, then threw the butt down in the gutter, blew out hard, stuffed something in his pocket and turned to press the keypad by the door. By then, Atrius had crossed over further up, checked for any tail and come up behind János. I glanced both ways to check again, then trotted across the deserted street to the door directly in front of János.

  ‘Morning,’ I said. ‘See anything or anybody interesting while you were out?’

  ‘No, and tell your boy to back off.’

  I nodded at Atrius. He took one step back and then kept himself busy looking up and down the street without seeming to.

  ‘There were lights on the third and fourth storeys and I saw a woman’s face as she pulled back the curtains on the top floor. But that’s it.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Thank you. I appreciate you going to look last night.’

  ‘Somebody had busted in. Looked like a door ram, so probably those bastard vigiles. I’d be careful if I was you. Come back if you need to. She’s sorry she was a bit off last night. She won’t say so, though. Typical stubborn Roma Novan woman.’ He grunted. He held his hand out. ‘I hope you find those bastards who killed Sándor. He was a miserable old sod, but he was my friend.’

  * * *

  ‘It’s against procedure,’ Atrius grumbled. ‘And it’s madness to return there.’

  ‘Are you questioning my order?’ I stopped, looked him squarely in the face and raised an eyebrow.

  ‘No, of course not, ma’am, just pointing out—’

  ‘Consider it pointed out. Now let’s get on with it.’

  We were still dressed in the drab clothes we’d changed into when we’d entered Roma Nova and I for one would like to have found a washing machine. Paula Atria’s shop was out of the question. We walked on at a steady pace, but only a few people were about, concentrating on getting to work rather than looking at a couple of nondescripts. Twenty minutes later, we reached Marcia’s building. Atrius went first while I watched the street. A short low whistle. I turned and followed him in. A crack in the entrance door to the building and a hole where the lock had been confirmed János’s story. Boot marks on the floor and black scuffs on the walls of the first two storeys’ corridors were telltale signs of the raid. A door on the second floor was open, but barred with white and maroon striped plastic tape.

  I waved my fingers in an upward direction at Atrius and we crept up the next flight of stairs. No scuffs or boot prints. I nodded and we tackled the last flight, maintaining silence all the way up. At the top, we flattened ourselves against the wall each side of the door. I signalled Atrius back so he was out of the line of sight, gave one last look down the stairwell, then knocked softly on the door.

  An unknown male face appeared in the narrow gap between the open door and the jamb.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Oh, isn’t Marcia in?’ I said, with a cheerful smile on my face.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Oh, don’t tell me she’s moved again. And I’ve brought a chicken for her from her aunt in Brancadorum.’

  The door slammed shut. I glared at Atrius who was trying not to laugh.

  ‘It was the next phrase on the list, so shut up,’ I hissed at him. After a full minute, the door opened again. Marcia, her face pale.

  ‘Thank Mercury. I thought you’d been taken.’

  She opened the door just enough for us to slide in. And we came face to face with an armed vigilis officer.

  No.

  I took a deep breath then shifted the weight onto the balls of my feet, ready to pounce or run. Was his backup already creeping up the stairs, ready to grab us? Atrius pushed Marcia out of the way, seized the door handle and wrenched the door open. I whirled round and was halfway onto the landing, Atrius centimetres behind me when Marcia cried out.

  ‘Stop!

  She lowered her voice. ‘It’s not a trap. He’s one of us.’

  * * *

  ‘We found a hole to hide in last night,’ I said as we drank black tea in an attempt to calm down. My heart was still thudding as I emptied my mug. ‘What happened here?’ I said.

  ‘A raid.’ She stood and walked over to the sink and leant back against it. ‘I thought we were toast. I was working on an ID and had my print kit out all over the table. I just had time to shove it all away in the cupboard.’ She looked up. ‘But they would have easily found it.’ Her eyes were red and her fingers twitched. The vigilis went over to her and put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, then let out a sigh. ‘The couple on the second floor were dealing in black market goods and had been denounced by a disgruntled customer, so Gaius says.’ She looked up at him.

  I studied Gaius standing there in his maroon uniform, jacket open, white T-shirt showing. He wasn’t young or old, neither tall nor short. His mousey hair and brown eyes made him look like any other Roma Novan.

  ‘So Gaius here didn’t know the raid was coming?’

  ‘No.’ He looked down his nose at me. ‘The special squads don’t think to post such things on an open noticeboard for us common scarabs to read.’ His voice was coated with sarcasm.

  ‘Don’t get snotty with me, vigilis. Given your corps’ poor record, you have nothing to be proud about. Now tell me what you’re doing here.’

  ‘I’m Marcia and Sextus’s cousin. I came round one day to see if they were okay, you know, after she’d been chucked out of the university. Not my sort of thing, but my mother said Marcia had been doing so well and it was a shame.’ He stood up straight, releasing Marcia. ‘It’s not a shame, it’s a bloody disgrace. I’ve been a vigilis for nearly twenty years, getting on with my job catching criminals. I’ve worked with some of the best police colleagues ever, women and men. When the women were chucked out it was weird, unnatural, but we got on with it. Then those bloody nats were there, “sharing law enforcement duties” as they called it.’ He snorted. ‘Now everybody’s changed. Even some of my old mates have become louts. One woman came to the station complaining of being assaulted and they laughed and told her she was lucky to be getting any.’

  He threw himself down on one of the rickety dining chairs and smacked
his hand on the table. He was either one of the best actors I’d seen or genuinely distressed.

  ‘I was going to make my way out, north to Vienna, but Marcia said it was too dangerous.’ He glanced over at her. Her face took on a red tinge. ‘I knew it wasn’t true – there are loads of ways through. She talked me into staying and helping her and her friends. I can’t do much, but now and again I hear something that might be useful and I can smuggle out the odd useful thing.’

  If they caught him he’d have a doubly difficult time. I relaxed a little.

  ‘You tread a difficult path, Gaius. I commend you. When we come back, we’ll remember what you are doing now for Roma Nova.’

  ‘Are you coming back? Really?’ He looked up, his eyes doubtful. ‘How can you?’

  ‘That’s why we’re here.’ I looked at Marcia. ‘Where’s your brother?’

  ‘In his lectures, I hope.’

  ‘Can he start actively recruiting? We need people inside every organisation. Students are usually rebellious by nature.’ I smiled at her.

  ‘He’s sounded a few people out already, but the trouble is the nats are making them all go to political education classes and some of his friends are taking it in.’

  ‘Then he’ll have to find other friends. Tell him to look out for the quiet ones who seem to be watching but not saying anything. They’re not confident to speak up in the presence of those throwing their weight around, but it doesn’t mean they don’t resent things.’

  ‘I’ve had more luck with my women friends. We’ve started up sewing groups.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘We’ll all be weaving like Livia soon if we’re not careful, but it means we can meet under the nats’ radar.’

  ‘Excellent,’ I said. ‘What we need most is information on numbers of nats, what they do, their unit strengths, here in the city and out in the country. We need to know what shops and businesses are flourishing, which ones close, what farmers are supplying, how transport is running, the postal services. And most of all what people are finding hardest and what their feelings and opinions are.’

  ‘You don’t want much, do you?’ Marcia said.

  ‘It’s all small stuff that will help us build up a pattern, a jigsaw, if you like. Then we can make connections. It’s also important to note if things change.’ I laid my hand on her forearm. ‘They’re things you notice in the everyday. That’s why we need a lot of people to observe. But I don’t want anybody getting either noticed or into trouble.’

  ‘How are we supposed to get all this information to you?’

  ‘Using the same transceivers you’ve been using so far.’

  She looked appalled.

  ‘But we only use them when absolutely necessary. Sextus said even tiny message bursts could be heard by the nats’ monitoring people. We couldn’t possibly send daily reports.’

  ‘They brought new monitoring equipment into my station,’ Gaius said. ‘American. Well, that’s what the stores clerk said. He’s a puffed up little jerk – likes to sound important. Said I mustn’t tell anybody. I said of course not.’ He grinned.

  ‘That’s a pain, but we’ve brought something with us to help with that. I’ll brief Marcia and she can tell you later.’ He said nothing but looked steadily at me. I didn’t know him and I wanted to talk to Marcia first. ‘You’re going to have to train the others in your groups,’ I said to her. ‘I suggest you keep your groups to five or six maximum, make one of them the leader who then belongs to the next level up. Get each member of your core group to recruit their own group. Nobody will know any others in the network apart from their own group. This way, if any of you get caught, the nats would only ever get four or five other names at worst.’

  Gaius looked at his watch then stood up. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go on shift.’ He held his hand out to me. ‘I don’t know your name and I don’t want to know, but I’m honoured to make your acquaintance. You’ve given me hope.’

  ‘We’re going to rely on loyal people like you, Gaius, so stay safe.’ He nodded to Atrius and left. I counted to twenty and jerked my head to Atrius who slipped out to follow him.

  ‘So Gaius is your cousin. Is he reliable?’ I look straight at her.

  ‘I know you have to ask, but you don’t know him. He’s as straight as they come. I’ve seen him get more and more depressed over the past few months. He’d do anything for it to go back to how it was. Now he’s got his dippy sister to look after as well. Her man’s left her and joined the nats. She’s just had a baby she didn’t want and Gaius says she hasn’t a clue as a mother. How little Marcus will survive, Juno knows.’

  She fetched a bottle of beer and two glasses. It was gassy and weak, but just about drinkable. She slouched in her chair, sipped at her glass, but said nothing.

  ‘What’s the family name?’ I asked to break her mood.

  ‘Flavia.’

  Well, I hoped little Marcus Flavius would manage to grow up despite a father who deserted him and a negligent mother.

  22

  Atrius reported that Gaius had gone direct to the Vigiles District VII station and disappeared through the guarded gate. Unusual. There had never been any need to guard stations before. He shrugged, then went to the bathroom to retrieve the packets we’d hidden in the ceiling.

  When Sextus came back, he was starving and grumbled at the vegetable stew Marcia had made.

  ‘Go out and shoot something if you want meat so badly,’ she retorted.

  ‘Sorry, sis, we had an ID check before the political education class and one of my friends was dragged away by those nats apes. He shouted for help but none of us dared move. We all just stood there, not believing what was happening.’ He threw his spoon down. ‘I feel so bloody helpless.’

  ‘Sextus, you and Marcia are doing good work. It might seem low-level, but I can’t stress how important it is. When you’ve finished eating, Secundus and I will show you protocols to start the work to drive these bastards out.’

  * * *

  Atrius and I drilled the two of them in the one-time letter pad cypher method so they could encode their messages. We practised for the rest of the evening but gave up at midnight. We started again with both of them the next morning, but Sextus had to go to classes at eleven.

  I ran Marcia through recruitment techniques; she’d have more opportunity as a servant and could meet other women shopping and running errands. She seemed pretty savvy to me; setting up the sewing groups had been a brilliant idea.

  Atrius and I slept in the afternoon with the door barricaded. We could, at a push, escape through the small roof light. When Sextus returned, I drilled them both in radio contact and lost contact procedures, and made them memorise a fresh set of personal contact passwords. Just before midnight, I gave them sets of pads that had been in the hidden packets to distribute to trusted colleagues once they had been completely checked out.

  ‘We’re going first thing in the morning.’ I fished a small black plastic-covered device out of the third packet. ‘This is a scrambler – the latest technology there is.’ Sextus leaned forward, reawakened interest in his tired eyes. He was an engineer after all. ‘You press this button to switch it on,’ I continued. ‘I suggest you slide the button to max if you are talking near vigiles or nats or anywhere you’re worried about.’ I took a loop of wire out with two jack plugs. ‘Plug one end in the scrambler and the other in your transceiver. It will scramble your radio bursts. It runs on batteries. I’ve brought you four rechargeables plus a mini recharger. It’ll keep you going for a bit. If they’re starting to drain and taking less recharge, you must tell us as soon as you can and we’ll get more to you.’

  * * *

  Atrius and I waited in the shadows of the main bus station. I shivered in my thin jacket, slumped against the concrete wall and closed my eyes while he watched. Those poor kids; they’d be lucky if Caius’s thugs didn’t get them. They’d managed for over a year, but how long would their luck last? I yawned and rubbed my face. I could have slept for a week. Drowsiness was seepi
ng over me when Atrius nudged me with his knee.

  ‘Here’s the bus,’ he whispered.

  I eased myself up and peered round the corner of the bus station building. The thump-thump of the diesel engine broke the silence of the dark morning. The sun wouldn’t rise for another hour, but the official night curfew had ended and we could make our way to the rendezvous point with the other team. We waited until the engine started to rev up and ran for the bus door as if we were late.

  ‘You’ve cut it fine,’ the driver grumped as he took our solidi coins.

  Atrius mumbled an apology and gave me a light push towards seats near the back of the bus. At two further stops we picked up half a dozen half-awake early morning workers. I released a long breath. We’d done everything we needed to do; I’d taken the photos, we’d delivered the code pads, and given basic training to Marcia and Sextus. Gaius the vigilis was a bonus. Atrius had even pinched a directory from a phone box in the city – a valuable source of contacts. As the bus rattled on through the suburbs and entered the dock area, I felt at last we were on our way out.

  The bus jerked to a halt. We were thrown forward. I grabbed the rail in front of me. Glaring light from a vehicle outside nearly blinded us in the dark of the morning. Spotlight. Only police vehicles had such powerful lights. Atrius half rose to his feet, then sat down fast as a nationalist trooper stepped onto the bus. Boots, black uniform, tight belt, black peak cap and that damned red armband with the mailed fist and fasces. Gods. Was he looking for us? We could take him as long as the other passengers stayed in their seats and didn’t panic. Voices outside. How many were there?

  ‘Everybody off,’ he barked. Frightened eyes met other ones. ‘Now!’

  As Atrius reached the front of the bus, the trooper shot his arm out to block him.

  ‘You. Why don’t you have a party badge?’

  ‘Me, sir?’ Atrius feigned a country burr to his voice. ‘I ain’t fit for that. I just does veg on my uncle’s farm.’ He let his mouth drop open then gave the nat a grin.