Wants of the Silent

by McPartlin, Moira;

  The Trac bumped over the sand followed by a trailer that rattled, scooping up workers as they made their way back to the shore.

  ‘Could have been anyone got her. We live in a lawless State.’ He took my grainer wrapper and tucked it in his side pocket for recyk. ‘Tide’s coming in, let’s see what we can see.’

  ‘What if there’s nothing there?’

  ‘We go on until we find one of your own.’

  ‘One of my own?’ But of course he meant Vanora’s coverts. I tried to visualise Vanora’s map, the conglomerate of cells on her ticker wall. The ones that blacked out. Were there any on this part of the coast?

  ‘She had covert people dotted around the coast.’

  He nodded. ‘So I heard.’

  ‘Well, do you know where they are?’

  His chin got a right old scratch at that question.

  ‘They normally live in caves and bothies,’ I said.

  ‘No caves around here. The sea’s been invading the land since the ‘20s. There are some bothies though. Some signs of life but they’re not doing much of a job if they are supposed to be recruiting an army. Of course they’ll be further south too. There are some deserted coastal towns on the way to the tower.’

  ‘So you know about the tower? That’s where I thought we were going.’

  Con’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Could be but we don’t want to be hanging about there.’

  ‘Have you heard of Monsieur Jacques?’ The words were hardly out my mouth when he grabbed my collar.

  ‘You don’t want to be mentioning that to no one. It’s dangerous, that’s what it is.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The less you know the better, just stay away.’

  He released my collar. ‘Now let’s find these coverts of yours.’

  But by then it was too late, I knew I had to go back to the tower. That was my only chance of finding Vanora.

  Ishbel

  Dawdle left the wheelhouse, his body buckled with the weight of the bolts of cloth he carried; Reinya followed, similarly laden. When she saw Ishbel she put her head down, avoiding eye contact.

  Ishbel stuck out a hand to take the cloth, ease the burden, but the girl jooked past almost tripping in her haste.

  ‘Wait, give me that, you’ll need to stay with your grandfather.’

  ‘No, uh’m coming with you.’

  Ishbel made another grab and the cloth landed on the ground.

  ‘Heh, heh, watch the merchandise, Ish.’ Dawdle shouted. She ignored him.

  ‘We’ll come back for you.’

  ‘Uh’m not staying with that mutant. What if ‘e dies? Them, there’re strangers, anything could ‘appen to me.’

  ‘Kenneth’ll be here soon, he’ll look after you.’

  ‘Another stranger’

  ‘He’s safe.’

  ‘Nobudy’s safe.’

  Ishbel shook her head. ‘He is.’

  ‘Let her come, Ish. She terrified o’ strangers. She can stay in the sub while we look fur yer ma.’

  ‘How did you know about Vanora?’ There was a pinkness to his usually pasty cheeks.

  ‘That bloke Merj telt me.’

  ‘How does he know?’ Ishbel said not expecting an answer. ‘You know him, don’t you?’

  Dawdle shifted his bundles dropping one on the sand. He cursed. ‘Never met him before today.’

  ‘Meeting is different from knowing.’ She tugged a bundle from Reinya. ‘OK you can come, but go say goodbye to him.’

  ‘No chance.’

  Ishbel could see by the hard set of the girl jaw she was wasting her breath. ‘Well, wait for me, I’m going to say goodbye.’

  Scud lay on his back in a small alcove, part of the outer wheel. Shasta, the young healer, tended the sores that blistered his mouth, applying ointment and rubbing moisture sticks on his lips. His eyes were open.

  ‘I thought you were putting him in suspension?’ Ishbel whispered.

  ‘We are, but he’s waiting for you.’ Ishbel made a silent prayer of thanks to her ancestors for sending her back.

  She took Scud’s translucent hand, she could almost see the blood struggling through his veins and arteries.

  ‘We’re leaving now, but Kenneth will be here soon.’

  He nodded wearily. ‘Look after her for me.’

  ‘You can do that yourself when you’re well.’

  ‘You should have left me there.’

  ‘No, never.’

  ‘Ah’m a burden tae the cause. Let me be. Ah’ve done my time, ah’ve served your dynasty well.’

  Dynasty, was that what they were?

  ‘Some dynasty. Now rest, you must get well.’

  He swallowed. ‘Ah’m that tired, Ishbel. My Jeanie’s crying out tae me, let me go tae her.’

  Ishbel squeezed his hand. ‘Listen to me Scud, you are a great historian, we need you to teach us the lessons we can’t afford to repeat. You know it all, you must teach the young, the next generation. So much was lost when the Net disappeared.’

  ‘The Net wis warped, needed tae go. Loaded wi lies, it was.’

  ‘Which is why we need a credible source.’

  A croaky laugh rattled his lips. ‘Oh Ishbel, you don’t know how ridiculous that is. What could ah dae that other historians failed tae dae in the past. We are where we are. Start wi a clean page.’

  ‘Promise me you’ll get well.’

  ‘We are where we are,’ he whispered.

  Ishbel bit her lip on the words she wanted to speak. She knew her mother had bloodshed planned, but there were more people involved now, things would change.

  ‘We must build a better, more peaceful world.’

  Scud nodded, but Ishbel wasn’t sure if he understood. Shasta came up behind her and said, ‘We’ll suspend him now.’

  ‘If not for the world, then for Reinya,’ Ishbel whispered. It was a cheap shot.

  Scud squeezed her hand and this was all she needed to assure her that he would at least try.

  ‘Look after her for me, Ishbel.’

  Sorlie

  They drank a bitter brew Con carried in a thermos. The beach operation packed and left.

  ‘Right, let’s get going. There’s a boatshed on the far shore, I’m guessing that there’s your drop off.’

  ‘This isn’t the place.’

  Con stood with glass to eye and searched behind us.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nout. Let’s go.’

  Even though darkness fell through the clouds of sea mist, I could see there was no tower nearby.

  Con shrugged. ‘We’ll have a look anyway. It’s there for a reason.’ The boatshed was deserted.

  Con grunted a couple of times as he searched for clues to its purpose. Rain began to staccato on the tin roof. We both looked up, amazed the Military hadn’t commandeered the material for a greater use or the Noiri stripped it for profit. It was a big empty shell, with hooks imbedded into the walls and gaping holes where other fittings had been roughly pillaged. I wondered why Vanora had never installed one of her coverts in here. Con read my thoughts.

  ‘Too exposed,’ he said. ‘Too open for pillage, nothing secret about this place. Nothing full stop,’ he said as he slung his bag over his shoulder. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘South.’

  ‘To the tower?’

  ‘Where else?’

  He led me to a huge muddy estuary surrounded by waterlogged fields. The rain pattered and puddled and ran from our hoods. The land churned into grasping mud until we were wading shin high in the stuff and each step began with a wrench of our boots from the sucking earth. Dampness crept across my shoulders where the overcoat had been patched. At least the rain was growing warmer as the days moved into the third quarter.

  To t
he south I could make out the mass of an Urban draped round a hill, a crumbling castle rampart perched on top. In ancient days this would have guarded its citizens from invaders, now it looked deserted. We trudged along an overgrown wide track.

  ‘Once the main rail link to Original Beckham City, before it was dismantled,’ Con told me. Railways, like helicopters were history lessons.

  Two bridges crossed a river; one with a road, cracked and potholed, the other bore the impression of long-recyked railway sleepers. Both were blocked off with concrete blocks the size of double decker trucks. Some parts had been chipped off in an attempt to make steps but the whole barricade was coated in something slick, there was no way we could climb over. Graffiti had been daubed on in danger red. N.F.F. Con began to laugh.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  He pointed to the graffiti. ‘That.’

  ‘What does it mean?’

  ‘You don’t know?’ He shook head. ‘Native Freedom Fighters. But we call them NAFF, because that’s what they are, they do naff-all for natives.’

  I’m sure Con could feel the heat pulsing from my face, but I was beginning to see his point. So far I’d seen no evidence of Vanora’s freedom fighters. Everyone was laughing at her. ‘If it’s so naff then why kidnap the leader?’

  ‘Search me.’ The joke was still in his voice so I dropped the subject. Vanora was an embarrassment.

  ‘What do we do?’ I said, slapping the block instead of his stupid, laughing face. ‘Can we get round it?’ This seemed impossible. ‘Is there another road?’

  ‘Yeah but it’s too heavily guarded, see. Only the Noiri can travel freely on that road.’ He climbed onto a rusty overturned car that hadn’t yet been collected for recyk. From his pocket he pulled the scope and surveyed the scene.

  ‘The Urban looks deserted, probably abandoned during the great sea surge.’

  ‘Where did they go?’

  ‘The Privileged? To newly constructed Bases in the North. Their natives? Probably to refugee camps or if they were lucky, new reservations built near the Bases.’

  From what I could remember from the taught history it was around this time that Beckham City was moved further north and re-established as the administrative hub for Lesser Esperaneo. This island had always been cut off from Mainland Esperaneo and the Capital, separated by the North Sea. Coastlines had been changing for decades, rising sea water became unmanageable. After the great flood surges of the thirties, many sea defences failed, the larger islands of Lesser Esperaneo became an archipelago of many small islands. Control became tricky. There had once been a tunnel connecting Lesser with Major Esperaneo but that was sabotaged long ago, some say for the best.

  Con offered a hand and hauled me up beside him. It felt good to get my feet out of the mud if only for a little while. He clocked 360° with his glass. His jaw clenched for a moment then relaxed.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Nothing. You said your grandmother had operatives around the coast.’

  ‘Yes, her operation is vast. There’s a huge map at her base showing their positions.’

  He scrutinised his fingernails for a nano then said, ‘There was one lad came to the camp, some years back – just a youngster, not much older than you. He asked to be taken in. He looked pretty emaciated. Had the most horrific skin condition, warts and sores, crawling with beasties.’ Con sat down on the car, I joined him. We had a good view of the surrounding land.

  ‘He seemed unsure of his history, first he had deserted the army, but when we cleaned him up we found he hadn’t been chipped so he changed his story and said he had fled the mass ID tagging, said it was a violation against his human rights.’ Con looked to me. ‘The elders accepted this, there had been quite a battle went on around that time, see, many did protest against chipping, but as always, in the end the State won. Anyway, he persuaded us he was two minutes short of being a special so we put him to work with them but it soon became apparent that he had other ideas.’

  Con looked though his glass as if searching for this history. ‘I can’t believe I’d forgotten all this. It was quite disruptive to the camp dynamics at the time. The stranger turned minds, bent the ears of the leaders, then tried to radicalise us younger ones. Promised us something called Freedom.’

  I gulped at that word. Freedom, the place Pa promised that day on the beach before everything changed.

  ‘Our leaders were seniors,’ Con said. ‘The recyk production was still new, they were unsure of how the camp would work out. We were all scared then. Weren’t so comfortable with radiation. I could feel a change in the way the camp was being organised. The leaders wanted to move fast, form a fighting force to protect us. A fighting force? Against whom? They had forgotten no one came near us through fear.’

  ‘I was a young man then and worked outside with a few others from the camp for a big sporting estate. The owners lived in a huge house surrounded by a guarded fence. I saw what they had but didn’t feel the resentment the others did. They became unsettled. It was subtle at first; this lad – the freedom fighter he called himself – told stories of Privileged in the north, how they beat their natives. Did we want that? Although we knew our positive plans for the future, many wanted it now. Oh, he was good – got us fired up with the talk of change see, even I fell under his spell. He was the same age as us and yet seemed to have so much more experience.

  ‘He told us we would need to prepare and in a few months, if we were ready to fight, change would come. He wanted some of us to go with him into the wilds and create havoc against the Privileged.’

  ‘What happened? He must have been one of the coverts,’ I said. ‘Did he mention Vanora? Is that how you know her?’

  ‘No, he didn’t mention Vanora, I hear of her from Noiri men.’

  ‘So why didn’t you go with him?’

  ‘Because just before he left, he showed his true colours. He only wanted young men. No women, no seniors and especially no specials. I saw how he treated the specials, kindness on the surface but there was a disgust hidden in his eyes, we’d seen it before. It came to a head when one of the special females grew attached to him and wanted to leave. He mistreated her and beat her. She died of her wounds. He thought he’d done enough, charmed us into blindness. He was wrong. We banished him. Should have killed him. His younger followers were forbidden to join him. It seems what he had planned was no better than the State policy.

  ‘But that can’t be right. Vanora would never sanction that treatment.’

  Con bristled. ‘I still wanted to go with him, I couldn’t believe what the elders were telling us so I asked him straight out. “What about the specials, the oldies?” He said, “We need strong people for this fight. We can leave some caretakers to mind them if it’s important.’’ Con became silent. ‘It was that phrase that did it. “If it’s important’.”

  ‘Word got round that he was trying to take the young with him. There was enough elders with enough clout to stop them. But the damage was done, divides were made. Some refused to believe their saviour was tainted. Many of the young were entrenched in their belief of a better future and even though they were too scared to follow him you can still feel the unrest sometimes. Only one young couple went with him in the end. Everyone else was persuaded that our plans were more feasible. We followed the deserters and this is where they came.’

  ‘I thought no one could leave in case of betrayal?’

  ‘Oh, that was before our operations were fully established, nothing to betray except dreams.’

  ‘What’s the name of this freedom fighter?’

  ‘Merj.’

  ‘Merj?’

  Con looked at me. ‘You know him?’

  ‘Tall, white hair, pale grey eyes.’ Con nodded. ‘I fought him.’ I tried to keep the boast from my voice but failed. ‘On Black Rock. He tried to kidnap me. I think he’s dead.’

  ‘Well i
f he is, I wonder who that boat belongs to?’ Con said pointing to the river.

  I looked to the far bank, there was nothing there except mud. Con nudged me, ‘Not there, look this side.’

  And sure enough a short distance along the bank a small boat was tied to a post.

  ‘So let’s use it.’

  ‘But if it’s on this side so is he or they.’

  ‘So what do we do?’

  ‘Wait.’

  The thought of waiting out in the open for Merj’s ghost to arrive did not fill me with joy but it seems I had no option.

  Ishbel

  Ishbel wanted to kill Dawdle all over again when they reached Peedle. There was not a scratch on it. He watched her, wary of her punch, waiting for the accusation, no doubt forming his lie before she asked. But she stayed silent. No more lies.

  Reinya however was not so reserved.

  ‘What? Uh thought this was scrapped. There’s no a scratch on it.’

  ‘Dawdle scuppered his boat,’ Ishbel said with as much cut as she could slice.

  Reinya whirled on him and thumped his shoulder. ‘Why did you? ‘e could have died in the water.’

  Dawdle flapped her fist away as if she were a hoard of midges.

  ‘What dae you care?’

  ‘‘ow dare you,’ she spat.

  But Dawdle wasn’t moved.

  ‘Look, ah’ve a business tae run. Loads o’ folks depend on me. These people need me tae collect thir supplies. Things don’t just stop because o’ a prison break, you know. Ah wis a’ready late, because ah had tae go get them off Black Rock.’

  ‘’e should have been taken straight to Freedom,’ Reinya said.

  ‘We had to get you,’ Ishbel wished it didn’t sound like she was backing Dawdle.

  ‘Ah should huv left the lot o’ ye,’ Dawdle said.

  Reinya gasped at his words.

  ‘Look, they’ll care fur him here, he probably wouldnae huv survived the trip tae Freedom anyway. And Kenneth’s coming tae help. It’ll be good fur the old boy.’

  Ishbel noticed the subject had neatly moved on from the non-injured boat.