by Gary Gibson
‘But at least it’s a plan,’ he said. ‘Which is more than you had.’
‘No. We need to stay right here. We have a direct line of sight to the Hypersphere, and we have guns that can hit it from here. Anything else isn’t going to work.’
Anger flared in Casey’s eyes. ‘We had an agreement,’ he hissed.
‘Made under duress,’ I pointed out. ‘I was in handcuffs. What the hell else did you think I’d say?’
‘I didn’t come here to shoot the damn thing,’ he said, ‘and our guns aren’t powerful enough to penetrate steel, particularly not at this range, given it’s still, as you say, locked inside a fucking cage.’
‘So you say,’ I said, aiming my pistol squarely at his head. ‘It’s still a better chance than your miserable plan. The deal’s off, Casey. You don’t give a shit about me, or the people I’m trying to save, or anything except your own worthless skin. I was a fool to imagine otherwise. Now either you shoot the Hypersphere – or I shoot you.’
He gave me a nasty smile. ‘You couldn’t kill Herr Frank. What makes you think you’ve got the cojones to kill me?’
I wrapped both hands around the grip of the pistol in the manner he had demonstrated. ‘Let’s find out,’ I said.
Casey stared back at me, hands by his sides and eyes fixed on mine.
There was another flare of light from the direction of the stage, and I automatically glanced towards the window.
It was all the distraction Casey needed. He threw himself on top of me, clamping his fingers around the wrist of my hand that still held the revolver. It slid from my grasp and clattered to the ground. I twisted around and managed to knee him in the belly, more by accident than plan.
He grunted with pain and shuffled back. I scooped the revolver back up and placed my elbows on the windowsill. Then I exhaled, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
I swore and pulled the trigger again. The gun clicked uselessly.
I heard a movement from beside me and turned to see Casey standing facing me, one hand to his belly and the other aiming his own gun at me.
I cursed at him in Russian. ‘You tricked me, you son of a bitch.’
‘Sorry,’ said Casey, sounding anything but. ‘Now we’re going to play it my w—’
He fell silent and I saw his eyes look past me, growing wide.
I turned to see Borodin standing at the top of the steps, three of the Crag’s guards standing beside him in a line, their rifles levelled at us.
Borodin had much the same look on his face as Pierre had when he first saw me. ‘You’re . . . ?’
Still alive, I knew he meant to say.
‘Don’t move,’ he said, recovering from his shock. ‘Either of you.’
I dropped the useless pistol. Casey muttered something foul, then moved to do the same with his own gun.
I didn’t allow myself to think. I snatched the gun from Casey’s hand before he could drop it, then turned to the window, aimed towards the Hypersphere, and squeezed the trigger.
TWENTY-FOUR
Something punched hard against my shoulder. My shot went wild, echoing into the night.
My legs gave out beneath me and I slid to the floor, gasping. I felt as if I’d been hit with an iron bar. I reached up with one shaking hand to my shoulder and it came away red.
Borodin snapped an order at his men. They ran forward, grabbing hold of us. The gun slipped from my grasp and I screamed as my arms were wrenched behind my back; the pain was beyond description. They searched us both, taking Casey’s knife and bag and the slip of blue paper he’d taken from Herr Frank’s body.
‘Put them in the interrogation block for now,’ said Borodin.
I screamed again as we were dragged and pushed all the way down to the ground floor. As we emerged into the alley, I saw Pierre standing waiting outside, his eyes full of shame and guilt.
‘I’m sorry, Katya,’ he said in English. ‘Truly sorry.’
‘You led them to us, didn’t you, you son of a bitch!’ Casey shouted.
‘There’s no time for this, Pierre,’ snapped Borodin.
‘No, please,’ the old man begged. ‘I just want to explain.’ He looked at me and Casey in turn. ‘My wife, you see. All these years they told me she was dead, but . . .’ He glanced at Borodin, then back at us.
‘But she’s not,’ I said. ‘Is that it?’
Pierre nodded, his face twisted up in anguish. ‘There was a price for ever seeing her again, you see. I . . .’ He swallowed, leaning on his stick. ‘I know this must be hard for either of you to understand.’
Casey swore from beside me.
‘I don’t want to hear any more,’ I said.
‘Get them both out of here,’ ordered Borodin. ‘Pierre, I need you back at the stage. Immediately.’
The guards were not gentle as they dragged us past the transfer stage and across the courtyard. I struggled to stay on my feet. The numbness in my shoulder quickly grew into a dull ache that frightened me more than the pain.
‘Looks like they only winged you,’ Casey said as we were led inside the interrogation block. ‘Shoulder wounds like yours aren’t usually fatal. Still, you’re going to have to do something about that bleeding.’
‘Like you give a damn,’ I said. The words emerged slurred.
‘Those rifles of theirs look like shitty heaps of junk. I’ve used higher-calibre hardware hunting possums. Even so, I figure the bullet passed clean through.’
‘I’d rather be dead,’ I mumbled, ‘than have to listen to you.’
The door swung open and we were pushed inside a corridor. ‘If we’d just steered clear of that old fucker,’ he continued, ‘we could have avoided this whole me—’
I tried to hurl myself at Casey, and screamed again as something inside my shoulder gave. The guards dragged us apart, pushing me ahead.
One of them pulled open a heavy iron door before shoving us both inside a cell. I sprawled on the floor, Casey shouting abuse at the guards as they locked us in.
Then I looked around and realized we weren’t alone.
‘Well, fuck me,’ said Casey, staring into the corner. ‘It’s Jerry.’
Jerry was curled up on a bench suspended from a wall by two chains, his knees pulled close to his chest. He was either asleep or unconscious, with one arm thrown over his eyes.
‘Hey, Jerry,’ said Casey, pushing the other man’s shoulder. ‘Are you awake?’
Jerry groaned and coughed and lifted his arm. His face, I saw, was a mass of bruises. He squinted into the light, peering up at Casey through bloodshot eyes.
‘Jerry,’ Casey said again. ‘Jesus, what did they do to you?’
Jerry’s eyes focused on Casey, then grew wide with terror.
‘Easy there,’ said Casey.
Jerry sat up and threw a weak punch that Casey easily dodged. ‘You!’ he screamed, ‘you son of a bitch, you killed them all! I’ll—’
‘Jerry!’ I tried to shout, my voice coming out as a half-croak. ‘It’s not the same Casey. Don’t you remember?’
Jerry twisted around to look at me, then back at Casey. His breathing grew less frantic, and he licked his lips, looking confused.
‘This is the other Casey,’ I reminded him. ‘The one they retrieved a couple of months back. Remember? The old one is dead.’
Jerry nodded. ‘Yeah. Okay. I . . . sorry.’ He swallowed hard and slumped back on the bench. ‘What are you doing here? And—’ He blinked. ‘Wait a minute. What about the others? Are they here? Where are they?’
‘On their way,’ said Casey. ‘Right now, it’s just me and Katya.’
‘Just . . .’ Jerry’s voice trailed off. ‘What the hell is going on?’
‘Save it for later,’ said Casey, then turned to me. ‘Right now, Katya needs help.’
Only then did Jerry appear to realize I had been shot. He crouched beside me, probing my injured shoulder and snatching his hand back again when I yelped in pain.
; ‘Don’t they have any doctors around here?’ asked Casey. ‘What’s Russian for doctor, anyway?’
I shook my head. ‘There aren’t any doctors here, believe me.’
‘Then I guess we’d better do something ourselves,’ said Casey, pulling off his jacket and then his shirt, tearing one sleeve of the latter into strips.
‘How long since she was hit?’ asked Jerry.
‘Couple minutes, maybe.’ Casey nodded at my jacket. ‘We’re going to have to get that off,’ he said.
‘Fuck you,’ I hissed, shivering from the cold sweat that clung to my skin. ‘Five minutes ago you were happy to let me get myself killed just so you could get your hands on the damn Hypersphere.’
Jerry’s eyes grew wide. ‘He did what?’
‘That was then,’ Casey grated. ‘This is now.’ He waggled his fingers at me. ‘C’mon. Jacket off. Need to dress that wound.’
I swore at him again, but did as he asked, working first one arm and then the other out of the heavy jacket. The pain was so bad I thought I might pass out. Once it was off, I felt the chill of the air even more deeply. I sank back, feeling light-headed as he carefully tore my shirt open around the wound.
‘At least the bleeding’s stopped,’ he murmured. He moved in close and began wrapping his makeshift bandages around my shoulder. I pressed my lips together and breathed rapidly through my nose to try and keep from screaming again.
‘You can still move your fingers, right?’ asked Casey.
I flexed the fingers of my injured arm. ‘They’re fine.’
‘Now you’re done,’ said Jerry, ‘maybe someone can tell me what’s going on?’
Casey did the talking, and I let my head sink back against the bricks, listening to him.
‘So you were going to take the Hypersphere, huh?’ said Jerry.
‘You know he disabled the gun he gave me?’ I said, giving Casey a venomous look. ‘He left me defenceless because he was scared I might shoot the Hypersphere before he could get his hands on it. Isn’t that right, Casey?’
Jerry shook his head. ‘You really are a devious prick, Vishnevsky,’ he said, his tone almost admiring.
‘What’s done is done,’ Casey muttered. ‘Let’s just wait for the others to get here.’
I glared at him. ‘If bandaging my arm up with your shirt makes you think I’m happy about the way you—’
‘Take it easy,’ said Jerry. ‘If Nadia and the others really are on their way, we need to be ready.’
I eyed Casey balefully. ‘Coming for us, perhaps, but not for him.’
‘What does it matter?’ said Casey. ‘I’m damned in all your eyes, whether they come or not.’
‘If they come,’ I said. ‘I know they said they would, but once they see all those people and soldiers out there . . .’
‘They’ll come,’ said Jerry.
‘Yeah,’ said Casey, with no little bitterness. ‘One for all, and all for one. Like a bunch of fucking musketeers.’
The cell’s single barred window gave us a view of the transfer stage and much of the courtyard. We took turns watching out of it as the final preparations for the Tsar’s arrival were made. More equipment and supplies arrived, along with a second truck and even a forklift, and several steel trolleys loaded with what looked like medical monitoring equipment of some kind.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Pierre’s betrayal. I remembered the ease with which Herr Frank had tracked Tomas and me down, and the look that passed between my father and Sevigny when I last mentioned his name in their presence. I wondered if perhaps this was not the first time he had betrayed us. The very idea made me feel as if some part of my soul had been ground to dust.
Daylight came, a pale sun rising over the Crag’s battlements. By now, the Pathfinders had surely found both my map and Casey’s hastily scribbled notes. They knew where we were, and why.
But where were they?
‘Do you think something’s gone wrong?’ I asked at one point. I didn’t need to say who or what I was talking about.
Jerry stood by the window, his forehead pressed against the bars. Casey slept on the bench. ‘Nothing’s gone wrong,’ he said. ‘They’ll be here.’
‘It’s just that we’ve been here since yesterday evening and—’
‘Do you know when the hell to shut up, Katya?’ he muttered.
I shut up.
And then, finally, someone came. But it wasn’t Nadia, or any of the Pathfinders.
Casey shook me roughly awake where I had curled up in a corner. I coughed and sat up, my head throbbing almost as badly as my shoulder.
‘Hey,’ he whispered. ‘Someone’s coming.’
The cell door swung open to reveal two imperial guards armed with machine guns.
‘You’re coming with us,’ one of them said to me.
‘What about them?’ I asked, indicating Jerry and Casey.
‘Just you,’ the guard grunted.
I struggled upright, swaying slightly. My head throbbed with a strange fever. One of the guards took hold of me by my arm and I let out a cry of pain, but he showed no reaction as he pulled me out into the corridor.
‘This way,’ he said, gesturing with his weapon.
‘Hey!’ Casey shouted. ‘What the hell is going on? I—’
The second guard slammed the door shut, and I heard Casey’s muffled curses as I was led along the corridor.
We stopped at another door and they pushed it open. When I saw what lay on the other side, I turned and tried to run. They caught me easily and dragged me inside.
It was the interrogation room where I had seen Jerry strapped into a chair. They lifted me, kicking and squirming, into the same chair. It took both of them to hold me down.
Then I saw Borodin standing in a corner, Monsieur Sauveterre by his side. He leaned towards Sauveterre and muttered something. Sauveterre nodded, then stepped towards me, selecting a pair of scissors from a trolley.
I swore at him and struggled futilely.
Borodin made an exasperated noise. ‘He just wants to take a look at your shoulder.’
I jerked my head around to look at him, then back at Sauveterre.
‘Well, look at that,’ muttered Sauveterre, stepping around to one side of me and examining Casey’s crude bandages. He used the scissors to cut them away, and I hissed with pain as he peeled them from my skin.
‘A clean shot through muscle,’ he said to Borodin, after studying the exposed wound. ‘It just missed the subclavian artery. No permanent damage done, it seems.’
I just gaped at him in utter stupefaction.
‘As long as she can stand upright and think clearly, that’s all I care about,’ muttered Borodin, eyeing me balefully.
‘What is this about?’ I demanded.
Borodin sighed. ‘I suppose I don’t need to ask why you came back.’
I leaned forward, not resisting as Sauveterre swabbed the wound. I clenched my fists and hissed through my teeth as he applied iodine.
‘Almost done,’ said Sauveterre, selecting a syringe from the tray. ‘Antibiotics,’ he explained, before pushing the needle into my arm.
‘Tell me,’ asked Borodin, as Sauveterre wrapped my shoulder in clean bandages, ‘has anything you’ve said or done made a single bit of difference?’ He lit a cigarette and blew smoke into the air, and I noticed the hand holding it was shaking. ‘Unfortunately, Pierre insists we have urgent need of you. He says he cannot be sure of success without your help.’
I started to laugh, and it turned into a hacking cough. ‘Things not working out as smoothly as you’d hoped, Mikhail?’
His expression darkened. ‘Damn you, and especially damn your father.’
‘You seriously expect me to help you?’
‘The Tsar is coming to the Hypersphere, rather than the other way around,’ he said. ‘We expect him to arrive here within minutes. Surely that would make you more amenable to lending us your vast intellect?’
‘So you did believe me when I warned yo
u.’
He sighed and took a final drag on his cigarette, then ground the stub beneath his boot. ‘Help me finish this, Katya. If anything goes wrong, it’ll go wrong a long, long way from any of the Republics, I swear.’
‘And then what?’ I sneered. ‘We’ll all live happily ever after?’
He came closer, gripping the arms of the chair as he leaned over me, nostrils flaring. ‘I have family too, Katya; so does Herr Frank, and nearly everyone connected to this project. Dmitri will kill them all, including you and your friends in that cell back there, but only if we let him take the throne from his father. I swear to you that if you help me finish this, I will let you go.’
‘The last time I saw you,’ I said disdainfully, ‘you were going to have me shot.’
I saw him fighting down his anger. ‘I swear to you, help me finish this and you can live any damn place you want. In the heart of First Republic Moscow, if it takes your fancy – you and all the rest of the exiles. I have heard word Nicholas intends to declare a general amnesty once his place on the throne is secure.’ He stabbed a finger at me. ‘But I guarantee you this – if we fail here, we die. All of us.’
‘We’ll die anyway,’ I said.
He moved away from the chair and rubbed at his face with both hands. There were dark shadows under his eyes, I saw. He lit another cigarette, even though the first one was barely finished.
‘We’ve played this game before,’ he said. ‘You can either work with Pierre, or watch while Monsieur Sauveterre relieves your friends back in that cell of their fingers and toes.’
I said nothing and he nodded after several moments. ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ he said, then stepped over to a chair on which some clothing had been piled untidily. He picked out a shirt I recognized as one of my own and threw it at me. ‘Get dressed and I’ll take you to Pierre.’
I pulled the shirt on and let a guard lead me back outside and past the interrogation block. I looked over my shoulder and saw Casey watching me from inside the cell. Then I was led around the side of the stage to where Pierre stood peering over the shoulder of the technician manning the control rig. The Hypersphere sat in its cradle just metres away.
