Havoc

by Higgins, Jane

  Sure enough, when we turned into one of Bethun’s wide avenues an army checkpoint pulled us up—young guy, gun, hand up, palm out, bright in front of a floodlight rigged on top of a truck.

  Dash slid down her window and wielded her ID like a weapon. ‘Soldier, I’m in a hurry.’

  The kid on the receiving end jumped to attention, saluted and said, ‘Ma’am! Thank you! You’re free to go!’

  His squadmates sniggered at him saluting a security agent and he tried to recover with a nonchalent wave of his hand and a grown-up ‘Drive on.’

  Dash pocketed the ID, put up the window and we drove away.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

  ‘St Clare,’ said Dash. ‘Down near the bridge. There’s a med centre there with someone I know on the staff. He’ll help.’

  We drove along empty streets past rows of darkened buildings. Their windows were blank and black but I felt eyes on us, as though people were standing in the dark of doorways and windows watching us glide by.

  We pulled up beside a concrete slab of a building with an unlit MED sign. Dash unlocked the door on Lanya’s side and got out.

  Lanya climbed out slowly, smiled at Dash, then bolted.

  Dash yelled, ‘Hey!’ and pulled her gun. She shouted in Breken, ‘Stop! Now!’ and aimed at Lanya’s back.

  I launched myself out of the car and knocked her arm off target before she could fire, and by the time she’d regained her balance Lanya had disappeared into the darkness of the unlit street.

  ‘No!’ Dash wailed. ‘No!’ She turned the gun on me. ‘You promised!’

  ‘Whoa!’ I held up both hands. ‘Be cool, okay? Let me go after her.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head, emphatic. ‘You promised!’

  ‘You have to let me. She won’t know where it’s safe to hide and she’ll spread this thing without even meaning to.’

  Dash flicked her glance despairingly from me to the street where Lanya had gone. ‘Why are you doing this?’ she demanded. ‘You’re risking your life, Nik. And it’s not like they’re even your people!’

  I was watching her gun; it drew an unwavering bead on me. My breath was coming short and fast and I wondered if you could ever get used to staring down a gun barrel from the wrong end.

  She said, ‘The Hendrys are your people. And Fyffe. And me. And our friends from Tornmoor. Not Southsiders. You only met them six months ago.’

  I looked away from her, towards the river. I wanted to slow things down, give Lanya time to run, let Dash’s temper cool. The arch of the St Clare Bridge gleamed over the slow pulse of the water. I watched it for a few seconds then turned back to the metal gleam of the gun barrel and tried to speak without my voice shaking.

  ‘It’s not about who are my people. I don’t have a tidy answer to that, anyway. It’s about forty thousand innocent people and a war crime. You have to let me go after Lanya or she’ll spread the disease whether she means to or not.’

  The gun wavered. ‘Where would you go?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that.’

  ‘Let me come with you then.’

  ‘In that uniform?’

  ‘Okay, okay. At least come in and see if there’s some vaccine here.’

  I shook my head and her frown deepened.

  ‘You don’t trust me.’

  I took two steps backwards still holding up both hands.

  ‘I trust you not to shoot me.’

  Three more steps back. Dash looked miserable.

  Then I turned and ran after Lanya.

  Dash yelled at me, but she didn’t shoot.

  Lanya was waiting in a darkened doorway two blocks away. She called out quietly as I jogged by and joined me on the road.

  ‘You got away.’

  I was still spooked. ‘You nearly didn’t.’

  ‘She wouldn’t have shot me?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know. If she thought it was the only way to stop you spreading a deadly disease through the whole of Cityside, then she might have.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Sentian. To find a place to hide. And wait for Fyffe to make trouble.’

  CHAPTER 35

  The lights were on in Sentian. Lamplight and bulb light and battery light and candlelight spilled out of the windows and doors of the tall houses wedged together along its alleyways, making the place seem inviting and homely. People were talking in little groups in their open doorways and there was plenty of foot traffic. So much for curfew and blackout, I thought. In fact, so much for the eviction of all those people whose houses were under notice of demolition; a sniff of victory and they’d come flooding back. They’d thrown a barricade across Bridge Street exactly where we’d seen the army trucks a few days before and people were milling about, still building it up, heaving torn mattresses across the skeltons of old cars, weighing them down with rubble from the beginnings of the demolition.

  We went past slowly, avoiding attention, avoiding people as much as we could.

  Brown’s and the Bard are in deepest, darkest Sentian, slumped together, their upper storeys leaning over the alley as though they’re about to spill their books onto unsuspecting passers-by. That night they looked deserted.

  ‘Dear Mr Corman,’ I wrote on the notepad I’d taken from the Marsh. I explained that we were camping next door in the Bard and that he shouldn’t come near us because of the virus. I signed the note with both our names and posted it through the door of Brown’s, which was old enough to have a little slot in it for hard-copy mail.

  ‘He’ll be asleep,’ I said to Lanya, as we explored the back door and peered in the windows of the Bard looking for a way to break in without making too much noise.

  ‘Who can sleep when revolution is in the air?’ Mr Corman leaned on his cane in the unlit doorway at the back of Brown’s, and then came carefully down the steps. ‘We sleep when we are dead,’ he said as he reached us. ‘Please use this key. I do not wish you to break the door.’

  ‘Mr Corman! Read the note! You shouldn’t—’

  ‘Shouldn’t, nonsense. Inside with you both. There is revolution about, but also—’ he lifted his face and breathed in the night air ‘—other things. Unsavoury things, the unwelcome guests of revolution. In! In!’

  He ushered us inside and up the stairs past doorways that opened into dusty booklined rooms. We climbed to the third floor—Cosmology & Quantum Physics, New Urban AI, and Weird Fiction: 19th & 20th C—where Mr Corman took hold of a shelf lined with H. P. Lovecraft stories and hauled on it. The whole bookshelf pulled away from the wall, dragging with it a mass of cobwebs and exposing a low wooden door. He opened it and we stooped down to follow him into a cramped, stuffy room with a bed, a sofa, a few chairs, a kitchen area, and door to a tiny bathroom. He leaned on his stick and looked around.

  ‘People hide here sometimes,’ he said. ‘Stay. For as long as you need.’

  He walked about turning on lights and firing up a gas water heater and a gas cooker while we stood gaping with gratitude.

  ‘Which is first?’ he asked. ‘Food? Hot water?’ />
  ‘Food!’ I said, just as Lanya said, ‘Water!’

  He nodded. ‘I will return with coffee and bread.’

  I wondered how many times he’d done this: the hidden room, people on the run, food, shelter. Safety and unquestioning kindness, with no fuss or heroics.

  Lanya dived for the bathroom while I hunted around and discovered a functioning screen hidden away in a cupboard. I hauled it out, tuned it to the news channel and waited through a business report and a weather report before it came to what I wanted.

  Back to the Marsh now, where quick action by the army is bringing the situation under control. Meanwhile concern is focusing on the township of Moldam where it’s believed the viral outbreak began. We’ll shortly be hearing from Dr Parrish of Pitkerrin Laboratories. Oh, we have him right now. Dr Parrish?

  Dr Parrish was a tired-looking guy who kept smoothing down what little hair he had and fidgeting with the narrow glasses perched on his nose. He was nervy. Maybe Frieda was watching off-camera.

  Welcome, Doctor. Tell us about this outbreak.

  The man nodded and gazed solemnly out of the screen.

  Thank you, yes. I can tell you that Moldam township on Southside has been placed under quarantine after a viral outbreak was confirmed there. This virus is no threat to Cityside. The population here is perfectly safe.

  He was moderately convincing, I supposed.

  I see. It’s dangerous though, this virus?

  Well, uh, yes. Yes, somewhat.

  Not so convincing.

  We’ve heard there’s a vaccine?

  There is. That’s right. Everyone will receive it in due course.

  Good to hear, doctor. But what about this claim that there isn’t enough vaccine for everyone?

  There will be.

  But there isn’t right now? How much is there, doctor? What’s the current stock?

  We have plenty. Fifty thousand doses. More than enough to contain a limited outbreak here. But, as I said, we don’t need it. The disease is quarantined in Moldam.

  What about the people on Southside?

  Well, of course, we want to get it to those Southsiders who are in danger, but until we have a guarantee of safe passage for our medics, and that means an enduring ceasefire, I won’t be advising we send anyone over the river.

  ‘Fifty thousand.’ Lanya came out of the bathroom with a billow of steam and sat on the floor beside me. ‘That’s enough for everyone in Moldam.’

  I glanced at her and did a double take. ‘What are you wearing?’

  ‘Pyjamas. I found them in a cupboard in the bathroom. They were pressed flat and stiff as a board, and they smell all right.’ She sniffed at her sleeve and made a face at me. ‘I was desperate for something clean. Do I look ridiculous?’

  I laughed. ‘No. You look stunning.’

  She smiled and hugged her knees. ‘What’s the news?’

  ‘Nothing we don’t already know.’

  …Marsh, we have our reporter, Jasmine Fielding, on the scene. Jas?

  Thank you, Tim. I’m standing in the foyer of the administration block which, as you can see, is perfectly fine, but there are fires burning in other buildings. A lot of people have been cleared from the grounds, but there are still some thousands at the gates, and I can tell you they don’t look like going home soon. With me is Director of Security, Frieda Kelleran. Director, thanks for joining us at this late hour. How much damage has been done to the facilities here?

  Well, Jasmine, there has been some damage but it’s minimal and will soon be put right.

  You’ve made arrests?

  We have certainly made arrests, and people will be dealt with speedily and appropriately, I can assure you.

  ‘I bet,’ I said.

  Director, do you think there are professional protesters in the crowd out there?

  We have no doubt that One City extremists are involved. In fact, we know that they’ve used this disturbance to effect the escape of some of their sympathisers who were in custody here. Two in particular we’d like to bring to the attention of the public…

  ‘Oh, look,’ said Lanya.

  It was us. Mugshots they’d taken at the Marsh.

  …armed and dangerous. We’ve launched a search, of course, and will be going door to door in places where they might be holed up. We’re confident we’ll find them.

  Thanks, Director Kelleran. We’ll keep those images on rotation. Remember, folks, armed and dangerous, do not approach. But on a brighter note, things look like returning to normal here at the Marsh very soon. Back to you, Tim.

  Thank you, Jas. And now in other news, the on-going drought in the north is…

  I muted it and we sat staring at the weather map on the screen.

  ‘You did look dangerous,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t take you on.’

  She grinned at me but that soon faded. ‘She knows we’re out and she knows we could be sick.’

  ‘But she didn’t say anything about the virus. And she probably won’t—’

  A clatter outside the door made us jump to our feet, but it was just Mr Corman with a small loaf of grainy bread, a hunk of cheese and a little bag of coffee from his precious store.

  I tried one more time to ask him to stay away in case we were infectious, but I had no chance.

  ‘Nikolai, I am old. I have seen off many epidemics and pandemics in my time. I do not think a new young buck of a virus will be interested in this ancient carcass. I will hear no more of this anxiety. No more.’

  ‘They’re looking for us,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, they will look. God willing, they will not find. Eat now. And sleep. I will leave you. Good night.’

  We turned off the light and opened the window wide to let the room breathe in the warm night.

  Lanya looked at the bread and cheese. ‘Hungry?’

  ‘Not very,’ I said. ‘You?’

  She broke off a piece of bread. ‘We should eat.’ But she didn’t.

  ‘Nik, what if Frieda ignores us?’

  ‘I know. She could. We have to hope that Fy will make such a noise that she has to do something. Besides, she doesn’t know you at all. She doesn’t know how much of a fanatic you are and how far you’re prepared to go with this.’ I glanced at her and tried to smile. ‘I don’t even know—how much of a fanatic are you?’

  ‘You mean would I infect people on purpose?’

  ‘Would you?’

  ‘No. And you wouldn’t either.’

  ‘She’ll have guessed that about me, but not you.’

  ‘What if Fyffe’s been sent away, or she’s not allowed to go out while all the protests are going on?’ Lanya started to pace around the room.

  I sat on the couch and closed my eyes, wishing the dull ache in my head would go away. The buzz of the day’s relentless action had leached out of me and all that was left was edge, and the bare fact that we were bargaining with our lives.

  Lanya said, ‘I’ve been thinking: why don’t you go back and ask Dash to
give you a vaccination shot?’

  ‘I’m not doing that.’

  ‘No, listen. It makes sense—and you’re the one who’s always wanting things to make sense and add up. It only needs one infected person to threaten the city.’

  ‘Lanya. Don’t do this.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’ she asked.

  When I didn’t answer she came to sit on the couch with me. She hugged her knees; I could see her eyes glinting in the dark and smell the fresh cleanness of her pyjamas. ‘Tell me why not,’ she said in a matter-of-fact voice as though we were discussing why I didn’t like swimming or cabbage.

  In the street outside, a group of people was cheerfully breaking curfew. Laughter and chatter drifted in through the open window—they sounded confident, jubilant even, and why shouldn’t they? They’d taken Sentian back. But inside in the dark we were a long way from confident or jubilant.

  ‘I’m not leaving you,’ I said.

  Lanya watched me calmly. ‘If you go back to that med centre and get vaccinated then you’ll be able to go to the One City people and use their broadcasts to make a fuss about Moldam.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Because? Give me a proper reason.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ I said. ‘A proper reason.’

  ‘It means a reason beyond being worried about me.’

  ‘I call that a proper reason.’

  ‘You need more.’

  I have more, I thought. It’s what my father had done. He left my mother and me because it was the strategic thing to do. It must have made sense to them both at the time, but then the security forces picked us off one by one.