Day of the Damned

by David Gunn

  She glares at me.

  ‘I was going to wed Senator Thomassi,’ she says. ‘How can this be worse?’

  Chapter 50

  DEBRO WALKS ME TO MY BIKE. SHE GIVES ME BREAD AND dried beef and a flask of water and an ice-cold bottle of beer that will be warm by the time I drink it. Then she kisses me on both cheeks and steps back.

  I have no idea what Aptitude said.

  All I know is I haven’t seen Aptitude since she stood up from the wall in the garden, smoothed down her skirt and said goodbye as politely as if I was a stranger.

  ‘Don’t blame yourself,’ Debro says.

  Her words increase my rage.

  ‘Sven,’ she says, ‘I mean it. You’re just the messenger.’

  My link with this family will go, I think as I fire up the gyro. General Luc will marry Aptitude and Vijay Jaxx will go into exile. I’ll be someone Debro met, from a time she no longer wants to remember.

  Rage is a habit.

  One I learnt young and traded, turning it into something I could use. But this is a cold fury. In part with Debro, that she can let go this easily. But mostly with General Luc, although it’s not that simple.

  My fury feeds on memories of OctoV’s deviousness. It feeds on my hatred for the U/Free, which now burns fiercer than my hatred for the Uplifted and Enlightened, which burns fierce enough . . .

  ‘Listen,’ I say.

  Debro steps back.

  ‘Farlight is burnt, most of the area south of the river anyway. The furies that attacked you? Many more ripped through that area, killing doubters. That’s why your comms system is down. Vijay’s father is dead. The head of the Thomassi has declared himself Prince of Farlight. The U/Free have accepted his claim.’

  ‘But OctoV . . .’

  Funny how everyone comes back to that.

  ‘He’s dead.’ Seems fussy to point out he was actually a she. And there are more important points to consider. ‘OctoV betrayed General Jaxx and the U/Free betrayed OctoV, Senator Thomassi is their choice. You know what that means?’

  ‘We’re in danger?’ That’s only half a question, but she has a real one. ‘Sven, how could this happen?’

  What I ask myself.

  I run Debro through events on Hekati, some of which she knows and more of which she doesn’t. I’m putting it in words to give myself thinking time. For someone who doesn’t like thinking I’m doing too much of it lately.

  ‘General Tournier offered Jaxx a dukedom and a planet to change sides. OctoV made him send Vijay to kill Tournier. And then made Jaxx a duke anyway and gave him Farlight City, which isn’t a planet, but it’s still capital of the empire.’

  Debro nods.

  ‘Suppose OctoV decides Jaxx is too powerful? So he cuts a deal with the U/Free, who blame General Jaxx for the empire’s failure to sign that treaty with the Uplifted.’

  ‘Though you said Paper didn’t want the treaty signed?’

  ‘Who knows what she wants?’

  We’re back to bloody board games again.

  Before she left Golden Memories, Aptitude bought me a T-shirt that read My computer beat me at chess. It was crap at kick boxing. It was a joke, but not much of one.

  The problem with the U/Free is that while you’re congratulating yourself on planning three moves ahead, they’re winning the game after next.

  I give her the memory crystal Vijay filled with data from Morgan’s AIs before trashing them.

  ‘There might be something on them you can use to negotiate.’

  Debro looks doubtful.

  Although she doesn’t doubt the U/Free are involved, she’s more worried by what a Thomassi victory means for Wildeside. Nothing good. If she’s been left alone for the last three days it’s because Sebastian Thomassi is still locking down Farlight.

  The favelas will riot.

  They always do after something like this.

  Sebastian Thomassi’s first job will be to strip power from the crowds who gave him his victory. After that, he’ll cut deals with some high clans and kill others. Only then will he begin to tidy up outside. As for the other planets, in the short-term the war against the Uplifted and Enlightened will go on, because it will take months, if not years, for the news of a truce to reach them, and longer still to be believed.

  ‘Targeted,’ the SIG tells me.

  It sulks when I say that is obvious.

  The Wolf has me targeted from the moment I reach the road to his castle. For all I know, he has me targeted my entire trip from Wildeside to here.

  A comm sat could do it.

  Something hanging in geostationary orbit. Say a simple targeting laser, particularly if it ties to a signalling—

  ‘Earth to Sven,’ the SIG says.

  A long shot of our planet, with bright dotted rings showing communication satellite orbits, fades inside my head. The world’s edges vanish, and for a split second I’m near vomiting as a mountain range rushes towards me.

  ‘Sven.’

  The spiral flicks into focus.

  ‘Don’t,’ the SIG-37 says. ‘All right? Just don’t.’

  ‘Do what?’ Can’t remember the gun talking to me like this. Mostly it’s just snotty, now it sounds somewhere between angry and worried.

  ‘Choose now to format. OK?’

  I’m still thinking about that when a steel door opens ahead to lock off my route. A door behind also opens and I’m trapped, with rock one side, steel barriers front and back, and a long drop on my outside edge.

  A dozen Wolf Brigade exit the doors carrying pulse rifles. The visors on their helmets are down and all wear grey flak jackets. I’m flattered.

  Just how dangerous do they think I am?

  ‘Unbuckle your holster,’ shouts a major. ‘Put it on the ground.’

  ‘Fucking great,’ the SIG says. ‘See what you’ve done?’

  No, I don’t.

  ‘Now,’ the officer insists.

  I reckon I can kill him before they get me. If I can reach the edge and use a boulder as cover, I can probably kill a lot more . . .

  ‘Sven,’ the gun says. ‘Just fucking unbuckle me.’

  I step back from the SIG.

  There’s a knife in my boot. Actually, there’s a knife in each boot, and the webbing between my shoulders holds another, its blade honed to a sliver of steel, carbon and molybdenum. Never did get that laser sabre back.

  The first trooper to pick up the SIG collapses. Must be an electric pulse that has him wetting himself, as if someone poked his arse with a shock stick.

  ‘Deactivate it,’ the major orders.

  ‘Nothing to do with me.’

  He stares, not sure what to do next.

  ‘Do I get to see Luc?’ I ask. ‘Or do we stand here?’

  ‘You call him General Luc,’ he tells me. ‘Or the Wolf.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Him.’

  A second trooper drops twitching.

  I can’t work out if the SIG is simply enjoying itself, or doing something more useful, and now seems the wrong time to ask.

  ‘Let’s leave them to it,’ I say.

  Chapter 51

  ‘APTITUDE REFUSES?’ GENERAL LUC GLARES FROM THE FAR SIDE of his desk. ‘That’s her answer? She refuses?’ Nodding, I keep my eyes on his.

  I don’t want there to be any doubt about this.

  ‘You offered her Colonel Vijay’s life?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘And she turned it down?’

  ‘She turned you down, sir. Some prices are too high.’

  He bites his lip and glares some more. Yellow teeth glisten like old bone. Then he turns his fury to the window, although I doubt he sees anything much through the glass. General Luc is shaking with rage, and his fingers clench into fists as the heel of his boot grinds against the tiles. He’s squashing something imaginary underfoot.

  Me, probably.

  ‘What?’ he demands, when a buzz from his desk makes him jump.

  An officer apologizes for disturbing him.
<
br />   I don’t hear this. But it’s obvious from the way the Wolf jerks his head in irritation. Indigo Jaxx would never show anger like this. The general could be furious, he could be cold, ruthless and unforgiving. But he would regard shaking with rage as beneath him.

  ‘No,’ General Luc snarls. ‘I don’t care how you do it. Just pick up that fucking gun and get it inside.’

  The Wolf’s ADC passes me to a captain, who hands me to a lieutenant, who summons a sergeant I’ve never seen. None of which improves my temper. By the time I reach my destination I’m looking for an excuse to hurt someone.

  Usually, I wouldn’t need one.

  But there’s that stupid oath our colonel gave.

  ‘In there,’ the sergeant says.

  ‘It’s sir.’

  He looks at me.

  ‘Enjoy your stay, sir,’ he says.

  When Colonel Vijay looks up from his mattress I’m shocked at the change. His face, always thin, has hollows. Dark rings circle his eyes. His skin is so pale it matches the blond wisps of his beard.

  ‘Sir,’ Neen says.

  The colonel is forcing himself to his feet. ‘What did she say?’

  Grabbing my jacket, he tries to stop shaking. But he’s as useless as a cheap gun spring and only his grip keeps him upright.

  ‘She turned him down, sir.’

  ‘That’s the truth?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Colonel Vijay gives a huge sigh of relief.

  His fingers let go my lapels, and Neen catches him before he cracks his skull on the floor. Taking the flak jacket Shil offers, Iona makes a pillow for the colonel’s head and crouches at his side, wiping his forehead.

  Catching my gaze, Rachel returns her stare to a tiny slit window, and resumes her sniper’s exercises, muttering angles and distances to herself.

  ‘Tell me they didn’t torture him . . .’

  ‘We’re on bread and water,’ Neen says. ‘The colonel’s been sharing his with us.’

  ‘Sharing?’

  ‘Giving,’ he says.

  ‘And you ate it?’

  ‘Orders, Sven,’ says Colonel Vijay. ‘Orders.’

  He’s right, of course. If he says eat his food and the Aux refuse they’re disobeying a direct order and that’s a capital offence. We both know that.

  ‘No point wasting it,’ he says.

  ‘Sir,’ Rachel says. ‘You might want to see this.’

  A second after she says it, I hear the clang as something metal drops in the courtyard.

  ‘Sergeant . . .’

  Walking Neen to Rachel’s window, I move her aside.

  Sappers drag lengths of scaffolding to pile in one corner. A second squad unload planks from a forklift. Sergeant Toro oversees both. As we watch, he nods to a man with a chainsaw, who starts cutting wood to length.

  ‘I’m gone two days. Want to tell me what happened?’

  Glancing over his shoulder, Neen says, ‘Wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t even drink his share of our water. All he did was wait for your return.’

  Little idiot.

  The bars separating us from the landing are old, but sound. The hinges are hidden, and the lock looks new. Nothing shakes free when I slam my steel arm against the lock. A second blow brings dust, and a captain, a sergeant and a corporal.

  They’ve been talking something over between them.

  ‘Stop that,’ the captain says.

  He’s curly-haired, smug and good-looking enough to make me want to rearrange his features. A wolf pelt drapes from his shoulder and a row of medal ribbons decorate his chest. Three of them are probably for being able to wear the wolf skin elegantly.

  ‘Or what?’ I demand.

  A third slam of my arm rattles the door in its frame.

  ‘Lieutenant,’ he says, ‘I’m warning you . . .’

  ‘I want food,’ I tell him. ‘Proper food. Meat, bread, beer.’ Glancing over my shoulder I meet Shil’s gaze. ‘And fruit . . .’

  She’s always eating fruit.

  ‘And I want it now.’

  ‘That’s not going to happen.’

  ‘Yes it is.’

  The captain makes the mistake of stepping closer.

  Think he’s planning to do something stupid like jab his finger at me, while telling me to behave. He doesn’t get beyond the first word. My hand slicks through the bars, and I grasp him by the throat. After that, he can’t say anything anyway.

  ‘Release him.’

  ‘Not a chance.’

  When the sergeant reaches for his side arm, I introduce the captain to the bars as a warning, hard and fast. I do it twice for luck and the NCO decides to leave his gun where it is. The blood on his CO’s face probably helps. Or maybe it’s the metal sheen of my fingers gripping his throat.

  ‘Sven . . .’ That’s Vijay, obviously.

  ‘What, sir?’

  ‘I gave my parole.’

  ‘Which means what, sir?’

  He’s going to say I know what it means. Then it occurs to him that I don’t. We didn’t have things like parole in the Legion, and I haven’t been Death’s Head long enough to understand the ins and outs of it.

  ‘We don’t try to escape.’

  ‘In return, sir?’

  ‘They treat us with respect.’

  ‘See?’ I say, bouncing the captain off the bars. ‘Respect. That means you feed us properly . . .’

  ‘Lieutenant Sven Tveskoeg?’

  The officer who asks introduces himself as Major Whipple. He’s followed by an ADC and a handful of staff from the castle canteen. He knocks on our door, which has me grinning.

  ‘Please . . .’ Colonel Vijay invites him in and our food is delivered. It seems Captain Fowler took his smashed jaw to General Luc, and the Wolf decided to feed us after all. The captain is on a charge for being generally useless.

  Major Whipple salutes Colonel Vijay.

  On his way out, he stops. ‘Hekati,’ he says. ‘Is it true you talked to her?’

  The man’s face is impassive but there is something in those eyes. Something turns on my answer. But it turns for him and not for me.

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Right at the end.’

  ‘She killed herself?’

  ‘And took an Uplifted mother ship with her. It was like watching one of the gods clap her hands.’

  The major fingers a medallion around his neck.

  ‘And they say . . .’ he hesitates, ‘you once ate human flesh. A woman . . .’

  I’m grateful for the food, but this isn’t a conversation I’m interested in having. ‘Oh you know what they say. I like women as much as the next man, but I couldn’t eat a whole one . . .’

  He raises his eyebrows.

  ‘But if I was going to, I know where I’d start.’

  The major snorts, despite himself.

  ‘An orderly will come by to collect your trays,’ he tells me. Then he’s gone, in an abrupt turn and a clatter of boot heels on stone stairs. His ADC has left our door unlocked. I wonder if that is intentional and decide it is.

  ‘A trap?’ I ask Colonel Vijay.

  ‘Maybe a sign of trust.’

  Fucked up, the lot of them.

  Only I’m coming to realize something else.

  That major in the Wolf Brigade has more in common with Colonel Vijay than either one has with a civilian. Doesn’t matter we hate them, or our troopers beat the shit out of theirs in every available bar, and the other way round. Makes me wonder if a Silver Fist has more in common with us than our own civilians.

  I decide that’s a thought too far.

  Ripping a chicken apart, Neen gives half to Iona. She finishes her half in a couple of bites, watched by Shil who can be odd about food. As for Rachel, she fills her fist with salted almonds and returns to her window.

  I think she’s working on distances. Turns out, she’s watching a man bolt lengths of scaffolding together. ‘You know what he’s doing, sir?’

  ‘No,’ I lie.

  She g
oes back to watching.

  ‘Certainly,’ Colonel Vijay says, when I ask if we can have a word. That’s one of his phrases, but it’s beginning to stick. He makes space for me to sit and offers me a plate of chicken breast.

  ‘I’ve eaten, sir.’

  ‘It’s about Shil?’

  I stare at him. ‘Why would it be about her, sir?’

  ‘Thought it might.’ He nods to where she sits in her corner. There’s a darkness round her eyes, and a hauntedness to her face that I haven’t seen since the siege of Ilseville. There’s an air of barely restrained fury as she watches us watch her.

  ‘You realize,’ the colonel says, ‘she loves you?’

  ‘What?’

  It was a fuck against a wall, and a couple of conversations since.

  As far as I’m concerned we called a truce to her low-level grousing. If she sees it differently that’s her problem. Not mine, because I don’t need more problems. I have enough of those with the fallout from what happened in Farlight.

  ‘You serious, sir?’

  ‘Yes, Sven.’

  My sigh sounds like bellows emptying. Fuck it, twice . . .

  Is she that smart? The answer is yes, she’s smart. Probably the smartest person we’ve got in the group now Haze is off being important somewhere. But I don’t think it’s a plan. Maybe I just don’t want to think it’s a plan.

  ‘OK,’ I say. ‘She wins. I’ll have to throw her out after all.’

  He stares at me. ‘You mean that, don’t you?’

  ‘Afraid so, sir.’

  An orderly comes to collect our trays.

  He says nothing as Neen piles what’s left of the fruit onto one plate and puts it near the wall. We get a fresh bucket as a latrine and a sheet for Vijay’s mattress, although a blanket would be more use.

  Something occurs to me.

  ‘Why aren’t you in a better room?’

  Colonel Vijay shrugs.

  ‘Sir,’ I say. ‘When we were on the move, you messed with the Wolf Brigade. Suitable accommodation and proper food.’

  ‘I asked to be with the Aux.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The company.’ Looking round the cell, Colonel Vijay smiles slightly. ‘You’ll look after them?’ he says. ‘If you can?’