I looked across at the General. ‘I like it,’ said Angus.
‘It has a certain irony,’ I agreed.
Fly breathed a sigh of relief.
‘We need lots of explosives too,’ said Euan.
I looked at him, puzzled.
‘We’ve been doing some thinking,’ explained Euan.
‘Go on.’ I said warily.
‘You said we need to bring the power down, and to do that we need to hack into their systems.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘But you can’t do it; it’s too difficult.’
‘We need a mathematical genius,’ said Fly. ‘Someone who can put his head into the wires, you know the type.’
‘We don’t have anyone like that,’ said Angus.
‘So, we use explosives instead,’ said Stewart.
The three of them had been planning; I could tell – and I didn’t like it much.
‘How would we do it?’ I asked.
‘Well, we’ve been doing some research,’ said Euan. ‘All we need to do is to use explosives on the big transformers. It wouldn’t take much to knock them down. There’s no slack in the system. Most of the power companies run on the JIT principle.’ He paused. ‘Just In Time,’ he explained. ‘It’s too expensive to build in much resilience so they simply stock up and maintain at the minimum – and there’s hardly any personnel. We could get in, take what they have and easily take out the major population sites.’
‘The countryside will remain largely unaffected,’ said Stewart. ‘But that was probably always going to be the case. We can deal with that. At least we’ll have hit the main population areas – enough to create mayhem and confusion, for our purposes anyway.’ He trailed off.
‘How do we get to these sites?’ I asked.
‘We drive to them,’ said Angus.
‘You’re talking suicide bombers,’ I said.
There was a chilled silence.
‘Aye,’ said Angus.
‘Any volunteers?’
‘Aye, we’ve already checked. We have people who’ll do it.’
‘You would send our people to their deaths?’ I asked.
No one would look at me. The world had grown colder in many respects.
‘Give me an alternative,’ said Angus.
‘I can think of several!’ I growled.
‘You’ve said that it’s imperative for the power to go down if the revolution is to succeed. Tell me, Matrix, how many will die if we fail?’
‘Except you seem to forget that suicide bombers are unlikely to be successful; you can’t rely on them in the same way as you can a cyber attack. Enough people have tried and failed.’
‘Give me an alternative!’ repeated Angus.
I had no answer. We voted. I was the one voice to say no. The Blood Brothers agreed to use suicide bombers to destroy the power stations. It was the only way.
***********************
The meeting took a break. I sat outside and sulked. Sometimes I hated the democratic system; I had been outvoted. I may be Matrix, but the Blood Brothers had won.
The meeting reconvened. ‘Fly, would you like to tell us about the lists,’ I said.
Fly smiled nervously. ‘I’ve brought down all the data on the lists,’ he said.
Angus was immediately interested. ‘You have the names of all NF members?’
Fly smiled again. ‘Something like that,’ he said smugly.
‘Do we have the names or not?’ Angus sounded impatient now.
‘Better than that.’
‘How can it be better?’
Fly looked around at us all. ‘I have both lists!’ he announced.
There were puzzled looks around the table. He continued. ‘I have the list of all known NF members.’ He paused for dramatic effect. ‘And their targets!’
Angus glanced across at me.
‘It doesn’t get much better than that,’ I said.
***********************
The mood of the meeting had changed for the better, which was just as well since it was time to bring Ramon in for his report.
‘Are you sure he’s happy to talk before the Blood Brothers?’ I asked anxiously.
‘Happy? He insisted,’ said Caliph. He pressed his monitor, and soon Ramon came in with Sweeney, who had taken on a protective role for the four children, despite being only fourteen himself.
We all rose to our feet as they came in and gave them the formal salute. Both boys gasped with pleasure and then tried to look unconcerned about it, but to be saluted by a roomful of the Blood Brothers was no mean thing.
We sat down. Ramon came straight up to me. He fell to his knees, took my hand and kissed it and then touched his heart. ‘My allegiance is to Matrix,’ he whispered. His voice was weak from the poison of the lock, more of a whisper. But although it had been scarcely two weeks since we had taken him out, he already looked fatter and healthier. I also noticed he was wearing bands around his wrists.
‘Ramon,’ I said gently. ‘I’m very happy to see you and I know you’re going to prove your loyalty to me.’
Ramon nodded, his eyes wide with excitement and anticipation.
‘You’ve given my soldiers some important information. Can you be brave one more time?’
Again, he nodded.
‘Tell the Blood Brothers what you know. This is important; lives are at stake.’
‘You’re going to save them? You’re going to save them all?’
‘We’re going to try,’ I said.
We pulled a chair up for him and he sat down. He talked, and it broke all our hearts.
‘There were fifty of us to begin with,’ he began. ‘Most of us came from the same place.’ He looked around at us. ‘We lived at a remand home in the north of the city. There were some disabled kids, but most of us were just trouble makers.’ He paused. ‘Bad boys and girls,’ he clarified.
‘Are you telling us that everyone in your pod is a child?’ asked Caliph.
‘Yes.’
‘And there are fifty of you?’
‘Not any more. We’re the main catchment for Fabian.’
‘The what?’
‘We provide entertainment.’
‘Tell us about your pod,’ said Angus.
‘Well, as I say, most of us came from the same place, but when I arrived there were some ten or fifteen kids there already.’ Ramon kept his head bowed not looking at anyone. Stewart was about to speak, but I shook my head. For a little while, Ramon seemed lost in his memories. ‘They kept us in big cages,’ he whispered. ‘Not so big you could stand up in, but big enough to sit. Not that we could have stood anyway, they kept the breaking irons on us. We were taken out to work; otherwise, they left us in the cages. We did lots of things for the carers. We always did what we were told. There was a factory; we made shoes.’ He pulled a face. ‘The smell was disgusting! But it was better than the party rooms. We all dreaded the party rooms. That’s where the men came, the men who like to ...’ He glanced at me. He was sitting very close. He reached up and touched my face. ‘Did they do that to you?’ he asked, touching my spider tattoo.
I nodded.
‘They did this to me.’ He touched the Fabian brand on his face. ‘They did it to all of us; as soon as we arrived, they put the mark on us. Then they chose us for work, either in the smelly shoe factory, the laundry, or the party rooms where the men came and did dirty things to us.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I worked in all of them; most of us did. That was the way it happened. It all depended - the carers decided.’
He ran his finger along the mark on his face. ‘They kept telling us that we were there to serve a higher purpose and that we should be grateful. They told us that we had to say thank you; every time they gave us work, or punished us, or made us go to the party rooms, we had to go down into the submission pose and say: “thank you for helping me contribute, thank you for showing me where I went wrong, thank you for letting me give pleasure, thank you.” ‘
He stoppe
d. ‘Thank you,’ he repeated. ‘When they killed my brother, I had to say thank you.’
No one said anything; we simply listened. He gave a sob. He lifted up his hand, and I took it in mine. I held on to his hand all the time he spoke.
‘They killed my brother. One night they took him into the party room. We all heard him scream. I don’t know what they did to him. I’ll never know, but we heard him. I’ll never forget it, not as long as I live, that terrible scream. Then they came out and told me that I should die as well, so I went into the submission pose and begged them not to hurt me. They argued and they shouted. They began pulling at me and I begged them to let me live! Then at last they said yes and I was to be grateful. So I said thank you.’ He sobbed. ‘I said thank you for killing my brother and not me. That’s what I said.’
I squeezed his hand tight. He carried on, almost talking to himself. ‘The men came and took the children away – usually in pairs, sometimes more. The children never came back. They were never expected back. Our carers thought it was a big joke. We prayed never to be picked. The pod was a terrible place to be, but we knew the place where they took them was much worse.’
‘Do you know who these men were?’ asked Angus.
Ramon shook his head. ‘It was usually one man. I called him the smart man because of his sharp clothes and his smell. But sometimes he came with other men. He was always nice to them.’
‘They were his superiors?’
‘Yes, that’s it, they were his bosses. When they came, everyone was really polite. We all had to be particularly nice then.’
‘Did these important people come often?’ I asked gently.
‘Yes, quite often. They would sometimes help smart man to pick the children. They always knew exactly what they wanted. It didn’t make any difference though; the children never came back.’
‘Thank you, Ramon,’ I said.
Ramon stood up to go. ‘He was at the big house,’ he said as he joined Sweeney.
‘Who was?’
‘One of the boss men, he was at the big house. I recognised his voice.’
‘Did he come to the room where they put you?’
‘No, he was not one of them, he never came.’ He hesitated. ‘He was very important, I think.’
I had had Alban’s report. Only one man had stayed downstairs all night. Only one had not taken advantage of the substrata entertainment. ‘Do you know his name?’ I asked.
Ramon screwed up his face. ‘Harrisey?’ he said, looking vague.
‘Harrison,’ said Angus.
‘Yes, that’s it!’ said Ramon. ‘Harrison, he was always coming to visit us at the pod. He liked to come – to watch. Sometimes he would sit in the corner and watch, never saying anything, never doing anything, but we all knew he was there, watching us.’
***********************
I may have lost the first vote, but I won the second.
The General didn’t want to raid the London pod. Ramon had described where the pod was, and it was in the heart of the city, surrounded by other buildings. Ramon had told us that there was anything up to thirty children still there. How do you take thirty children out of a city pod without someone noticing?
‘It’s too close to the revolution; that’s what we should be concentrating on,’ said Angus. ‘We’ll go in and save them when the time comes, but not now.’
‘And where would we place thirty damaged kids?’ asked Stewart.
‘We open another safe house with some of the money we’ve stolen,’ I said.
‘That’s already accounted for,’ said Angus. ‘We are opening another safe house but not for that.’
‘And who would look after them?’ asked Euan.
‘I’ve already spoken to the Salvation Army; we have plenty of people keen to do it.’
‘I suggest we put it to the vote,’ said Andrew.
Angus, Stewart and Euan said no. Everyone else said yes. A clear majority in favour of taking the pod.
Angus nodded his head. ‘So, Matrix, how do we do it?’
I smiled. ‘I have a plan,’ I said.
‘Fine, but on one condition: we need to set up a new safe house first. We need somewhere to put them when we get them out.’
I couldn’t argue with that. ‘So when?’ I asked.
We decided on the middle of September. That gave us time to buy and equip a house for children.
Now all I had to do was think of a plan.
Chapter 62
Sometimes I got things right, sometimes I got them spectacularly wrong. Sometimes I was strong, sometimes I was weak – and sometimes I was just plain stupid. I had been more than weak and stupid; I had been gullible as well and I deserved the visit. I probably deserved more. I was lucky I didn’t get more.
I had been to the Tavern; the boys had been playing and the music had been good. I had watched everyone get up and dance and had really wanted to join them. I had sat watching and drinking – probably too much. As I stood outside smoking a cigarette, contemplating the long walk home, a pretty young woman came up to me. She was a visitor. ‘Does your dog bite?’ she asked, pointing at Hades.
‘No,’ I said, ‘but I do; so bugger off!’
That delighted her. She giggled, and then she followed me home – not like a lost puppy, more like a desperate whore. She wanted a rough man, and I seemed to fit the bill perfectly for her. I told her to go away, but she pouted and pulled down her blouse to show me her delicate young skin. I should have just gone in and left her, but it was a cold night. Well, she came in and, before I knew it, she was in my bed. It was not what she was expecting.
‘Is that it?’ she asked.
She was lying in my spare bed. ‘Go to sleep,’ I said, ‘and tomorrow I’ll take you home to daddy.’
She was furious. She screamed abuse and stormed out of the house. The next morning daddy came to visit. He barged into my house ready to meet the monster who had attacked his daughter. He met me. I would have been a surprise.
We had met before.
I had only been twelve at the time, but he recognised me, naturally he did, how many yellow-eyed boys had he ever met? He also stormed out of the house, and I prepared myself for the worst. It came – in the form of my brother.
***********************
Tanya and Caitlin had just arrived and were settling themselves in. It was Tanya who opened the door to my brother. She whistled when she saw him. ‘Hello, beautiful,’ she said, in her best whore’s voice. My brother asked for me by name. She had no idea what my name was. She gave him a stunning smile. ‘If it’s David you want he’s in here, but I better warn you, he’s retired now. He doesn’t do pretty boys anymore.’
My brother walked in behind her. He was exactly how I remembered him, grey hair now, a few extra lines, but otherwise exactly the same. He stopped and stared. He had every reason to stare.
I was slouched in my favourite chair with Hades at my feet. My strapped-up leg was perched on a stool and, despite the fact that it was still mid-morning; I had a glass of whisky in my one hand and a cigarette in the other.
‘Who’s this, Daddy?’ asked Caitlin coming in.
My brother turned to her, and then he gazed back at me. His look of astonishment would have been comical, had it not been laced with pain, anxiety and betrayal.
‘I think we’ll leave Daddy to his visitor,’ decided Tanya, being unusually diplomatic.
‘No need,’ I said cruelly. ‘He’s not staying.’
‘Thank you,’ said my brother. ‘I’d appreciate some time with ...’
‘David,’ I said.
Tanya was out of that house faster than I have ever seen her move, and she took Caitlin and Hades with her.
He sat down opposite me. ‘What in fuck’s name have you done to your face?’ he said. I didn’t have time to answer; perhaps it was rhetorical. ‘Where have you been? Have you any idea how much we’ve been searching for you? For Christ’s sake, what were you doing last night? You know she’s under age. And
who’s that woman? Why is that girl calling you daddy? What have you done to your leg?’ He paused for breath.
‘Got drunk, fell down the stairs,’ I said.
‘Where have you been? Why haven’t you come home?’ He paused again and then put his head in his hands.
I felt such overwhelming pity and love for him. I wanted to reach out and hug him. I had dreamt of him so much, and he was sitting here in my house hurting so much, and I knew I had to hurt him a lot more if I wanted him to go away – and I did want him to go away, more than anything. What I was doing was too dangerous, and I had no intention of bringing him anywhere near Fabian and all that they were capable of. Whatever happened, he had to leave my house now, and he had to leave permanently.
He seemed to collapse in front of me, totally defeated. ‘What’s going on?’ he murmured. My heart went out to him. He was the best of men, no one could have wished for a better brother, but he had to leave. ‘I was here only last Christmas,’ he was muttering to himself. ‘I came into the village - were you here then? You must’ve been - that’s why ...’ He trailed off, as pieces in a puzzle were slotting into place: an unfriendly welcome, words spoken secretly in Gaelic, a village that had held its own against the strangers – at my request.
‘Nothing’s going on,’ I said. ‘Just me living my life, and you’re not a part of it.’
He didn’t seem to hear. ‘When are you coming home?’
‘I am home. This is home.’
He continued to stare at me. ‘What have you done to your face?’
‘Don’t you think it’s an improvement? I thought so.’
‘For Christ’s sake!’
‘Doesn’t it remind you of anyone? I think our father would have approved, don’t you?’
He spoke my name and it gave me strength. The name belonged to someone else. It was not my name anymore. I told him so.
‘I don’t care what those bastards chose to call you.’ He paused. ‘They didn’t call you David, did they?’
‘No, I chose that,’ I sneered.
‘What happened to your teeth?’ he cried.
‘I think it’s time you left.’
‘Sure, and you’re coming with me.’
‘Get the fuck out of my life!’
The Dream Catcher Diaries Page 40
