The Radical (Unity Vol.1)

by Lynch, S. M.

  I dared to peer out from behind the curtains when Camille immediately stood out of her chair to roughly grab my arm, replacing the drapes quickly. I was not only shocked by the contact, but by the suddenness and almost reptilian response Camille exhibited. We assessed each other as if preparing for a contest of some sort before I yanked my arm out of her solid grip.

  ‘Camille, what the fuck is goin’ on?’ I paced the floor and pointed outside, ‘I was just out there and everyone was creating a barricade between me and a couple of shady characters stood in the distance.’

  She tried to brush it off with whimsical gesticulation. ‘I apologize for being so brusque, but you can never be too careful sometimes. You of all people should know that.’

  I seated myself and removed my shoulder bag and jacket, though I refused to sit forward at the table, as if doing so would condone Camille’s treatment of me.

  ‘Cut the bull, will you? I knew there was somethin’ about you Camille, the moment we met, I could tell there was more.’

  I lifted my foot and rested it on my other knee, sitting bolt upright to impose my frame on the woman sat opposite.

  Camille stood with her arms folded and asked seriously, ‘Where did you see those people?’

  ‘They followed me from Parliament Street and seemed to disappear into thin air as soon as I arrived here.’

  Eve’s manager held a hand to her mouth in contemplation, the other hand propping up the elbow of that arm.

  ‘They know you’re here…’

  ‘Emissaries?’

  Camille nodded.

  ‘Then, they’re cocky. They never dare touch me in New York.’

  ‘You’re at the source, Seraph. They’re nervous.’

  I stood and took Camille by the shoulders, demanding, ‘Tell me everything. I need to know exactly what we’re dealing with here.’

  She seated herself at the table and motioned for me to rejoin her. Camille looked troubled and seemed to be fighting an internal battle, scratching her head and shaking her hair from side to side, also muttering something under her breath in French.

  ‘Camille!’ I shot the woman an exasperated glance.

  ‘Okay Seraph… but Eve would not have been happy about you finding out like this.’

  Camille’s contorted features spoke volumes and everything I knew was wrong about York – was somehow connected. Shock flooded my body and I struggled for words in response.

  ‘What the fuck…?’ I needed her to spell it out.

  She didn’t say a thing. I had been such an idiot. Yet I couldn’t accept the truth. ‘You’re the Principal…? The assassin. The Frenchwoman? How dumb was I for not realizing?’

  ‘Yes, and my job was to protect another… one greater.’

  Time stood still while I tried to deny the truth that had been right under my nose the whole time…

  ‘No Camille, no, it can’t be. No, I won’t believe it. She isn’t… wasn’t… I never took it seriously…’

  I stood and turned my back on the other woman in the room, holding my head in my hands. My mouth was bone dry.

  ‘Seraph, she would have done anything to protect you, including holding back the truth.’

  ‘I can’t handle this Camille. She can’t have been…’

  ‘Yes. Yes she was… she was the Operator.’

  On that last word, Camille’s French dialect strengthened.

  I fell to my knees and clenched my fists. I could not stop the fury building inside myself. It all suddenly made sense. Mom and Dad died for the cause. Eve was the enigmatic head of UNITY and Camille her no.1, the elusive and deadly Principal. No wonder this place seemed so odd. It had been locked down for my visit. How strange all three of us were so closely related.

  What I felt was an overwhelming sense of denial and disbelief. It broke my heart that this had been her life. Had she ever known love? Or was her existence simply one of work, survival and evading the enemy? They could take me, kill me and cut me up into little pieces for all I cared, but not Eve. Not her.

  ‘No, she of all people can’t have been involved. No. I cannot believe this. I will not accept she was this other person. If only I’d known!’

  Camille guarded herself though I sensed she was preparing for a barrage of questions.

  ‘Did they damn well kill her, Camille? Tell me that. So help me, goddam tell me,’ I screamed.

  ‘No. No. No. Natural causes. No. Natural,’ she said gently, attempting to reach out to me.

  She was a deadly assassin and yet, with my mind all at odds, I was the deadlier in my state. I wanted blood and retribution. How could they take her from me too? Even if they hadn’t killed her directly, they had still robbed her of the life she should have had. I wanted to do unspeakable things right in that moment.

  ‘She was an old lady, how could it have fallen on her, of all people? How could she have wanted this? How could she have? I don’t understand!’

  I stood and kicked the wall out of frustration, cracking the plaster. I wanted to tear down that whole fucking building bit by bit. I pulled my hair in anguish, twisting at it from the roots. Then I had a rush of blood to the head. I could see no other course of action.

  Camille

  I waited to see what Seraph would do next, but hardly had time to react as the door of the office was flung open and the headstrong American strode out of the room towards the front door. Quickly, I grabbed a small electron-pulse stun gun from a drawer in my desk and ran out after her.

  As I reached the front door, I looked from side to side to see which direction Seraph had run off. Flaming locks billowed out from behind a black figure chasing down the bottom of the street, so I started running too. The gun in the back of my jeans, I sprinted with everything I had. I had no weight, my legs were air and my arms scissors. I barely breathed as I shifted into a mode of clear purpose.

  I soon caught up and grabbed the back of her jeans to hinder her progress. Seraph fell with a jolt, falling flat on her back on the cobbled, empty lane. I knelt down and saw her mad with fury.

  ‘My girl, you don’t know what they are capable of. This is why we kept things from you.’

  ‘I’m not some little girl Camille, I just want the truth.’

  There was no more time for discussion because suddenly we weren’t alone on the street. Emissaries emerged from Swinegate. Seraph wanted to leap into action but I swung my weapon out from behind me and tucked it into the front of my jeans instead.

  ‘Stay here,’ I whispered.

  Seraph nodded in understanding and remained on the ground while I wandered in the direction of the two emissaries. I assessed what I was up against and saw they were just primers, low-level stock Officium didn’t mind dispensing with. Easy. These automatons were pumped with soul-draining, filthy chemicals, devoid of the life force that flowed through my body and rendered me unstoppable.

  Seraph

  I wanted the bastards for myself but the ever-curious part of me wanted to see this woman at work. Camille reached the pair and seemed to hold court with them for a few seconds, before the female of the duo lunged forward. Camille responded by grabbing the woman’s arm swiftly and knocking her to the ground with a swift jab to the throat.

  Camille stepped back a few paces from the altercation and the man started to move toward her with a menacing grin spread across his face. She readied herself in a pose belonging to some sort of martial art; her feet one behind the other, her knees bent and her legs distributing her weight, testing her muscles on tiptoe. As the male emissary neared Camille, she screeched and jumped forward. In a matter of seconds, she performed an inch-perfect roundhouse kick on the unsuspecting son-of-a-bitch and he fell next to his partner. Without sound, Camille came back to earth and drew breath.

  She walked back to me with a confident gait I now recognized was due to her physical discipline. She took a small tubular device from her pocket and brought it to her lips, whispering hoarsely, ‘I have two shadows down on Stonegate that need to be dealt wit
h immediately.’

  Camille was pouring with sweat. A move she made look effortless was obviously exerting. She held a hand out for me to grab hold of and pulled me up.

  ‘No problem,’ she whispered with assurance, wiping her brow.

  ‘Camille,’ I beckoned, squeezing one of her hands, ‘why? They track me but never confront me in New York.’

  ‘I have something to show you, chérie,’ she replied, rubbing my shoulder in camaraderie. ‘Come.’

  She led me further into the ramshackle centre of York, past what was once the High Street. I noticed many units in desolation and ruin. Everywhere looked shut. Word of the emissaries’ presence had spread. She led me through so many winding streets that I lost my bearings, forgetting my steps as I watched the worn cobbles disappear beneath my feet.

  ‘Some used to seek safety in the ancient dungeons or sewers but flooding became too frequent. Now whenever there are whispers of emissaries on the streets, people flock to old churches or chapels. Buildings of the sort do not seem to appeal to their kind. We gather in these kinds of places, seeking safety in numbers, perhaps keeping a sense of community alive.’

  ‘Oh.’ What else was there to say? I had no idea what point she was trying to make.

  I saw the Gothic structure of the Minster up ahead but as we swept our way toward it, Camille tugged on my arm so sharply I was hauled into a smaller house of worship nearby. A simple-looking place not a patch on its nearby sister. She performed a series of knocks before a heavy wooden door was heaved open.

  There was a small gathering of people inside and the doors clunked shut behind us. Camille took my hand and led me to a long, rectangular table around which stood several men and women engaged in debate. When one person at the table spotted me, many more joined in, all of them staring as if they couldn’t believe their eyes.

  I heard the whispers, ‘Seraph Maddon. Seraph Maddon. It is her.’

  These were the voices of folk who were either grateful or shocked to see someone such as myself in that place. Soon the noise became deafening. They all gathered closer, both those at the table and others milling around the edges of the hall. I noticed their clothing. It wasn’t better than anybody else’s on the streets.

  An elderly man eventually greeted me, ‘Seraph Maddon, welcome.’

  ‘In the flesh,’ I breathed my words slowly, kind of amused and perplexed. They were all making me nervous with their stares.

  Thankfully Camille stepped in.

  ‘Please, ladies and gentlemen. Calm yourselves. Listen, I brought Seraph here for a reason. Philip,’ she gestured, nodding at the old man who had addressed me. ‘Come, spar.’

  He walked up to Camille and they sparred, swiping and ducking playfully. He threw his foot out over her head and she caught his ankle, squeezing it until he succumbed.

  ‘Camille, please,’ he begged, his face turning purple.

  She laughed and freed him, winking in my direction. ‘Apologies. Sometimes, I cannot help myself.’

  They all continued laughing as if no danger existed beyond the walls of their conference. The idiocy stifled me.

  ‘Camille, what is this place?’ I said, cutting into her display.

  The Frenchwoman sat on the table, crossed her long legs and swung them underneath her. She played with a nail and looked at Philip.

  ‘Tell her,’ she ordered.

  ‘Camille trained us. We trained others. We police this city to a certain extent. York is not as badly off as a lot of other places, Seraph. You may not think it but resources in New York are plentiful compared to what the average city here or elsewhere has. You need to realize… Eve’s presence in this city somehow stopped them wrecking it completely. She had influence even we don’t yet understand and probably never will.’

  ‘Say what now?’ I had an instinct there was something unique about York but I was starting to think these people were part of a crazed cult. ‘What were those sons of bitches doing here if she saved the city?’

  Philip remained close while everyone else pulled into the background to observe our exchange from afar.

  ‘For years Officium thought there was something wrong with this place. Maybe they put it down to the geography or the constant flooding, or perhaps it’s simply the case that a city this old may be so old that nothing works like it should. You see, Eve knew a lot of ways of blocking their signals. We don’t know how she knew, but she did. This city has been left relatively untainted by Officium because their comms don’t work here. Before Eve died the only way they could direct their emissaries here was via primitive radio signals and anyone can hack those.’

  It got more ridiculous.

  ‘My aunt knew how to block them? Block their communications here? How did she know? Forgive me, but she was a dressmaker first and foremost. Sorry if I sound a little nonplussed, but she didn’t exactly go to spy school, did she?’

  ‘She just did. We don’t know all her methods. The Operator at her very best.’

  ‘Camille,’ I huffed, ‘I’m tired of all this mad nonsense. I need plain words. I’m strugglin’ to entertain all this.’

  I still couldn’t quite believe it!

  ‘Seraph, quite simply… this once-fair isle of your heritage is a wreck. York is about the best of the bunch, as your aunt would say. Officium are here but not as starkly as elsewhere. The emissaries are only brave now that her online presence has gone. They never came near you before because she had your back, in more ways than one.’

  I gulped. ‘Did they know her identity?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Camille hastily replied. ‘Although, we may never know that for certain. She was careful but they may have had their suspicions… about why York of all places was protected. Then again, why would they have suspected a simple dressmaker… she had so many fooled, even you Seraph.’

  ‘Jesus, I know,’ I groaned, scrubbing my cheeks. I was embarrassed about being so ignorant on that one. ‘Anyway, what did she have over them? Why was she able to do this?!’

  I needed to lash out so I did. I meant to swing a fist into a wooden column nearby but instead hit Camille’s open palm. I knew she could take it. She gently let go of my knuckles and raised herself to my height, looking me directly in the eye, unperturbed by my necessary release of anguish.

  ‘Codes. She had codes. I don’t know where they came from. But she had lock-out information, algorithms and sequences and the person who gave her them trusted only her, nobody else. That was her weapon. She had someone on the inside. She never told any of us how she got those codes, how she knew this contact. We do know Eve used the information to bring their comms down numerous times. She threatened them with total lockdown, and worse, if they didn’t cease building a centre of operations here. The treaty has held good for a number of years now.’

  Light shone down on the bleak, murky abyss that was the dark maze of my aunt’s life. Someone, somewhere, had been giving her these “codes”.

  I felt like I was in a Cold War novel. Codes. Assassins. Spies. Underhanded tactics. People against people. Communication as power.

  ‘How bad is the rest of the country?’ I asked.

  On my journey to York from Manchester, all I had seen were the poly-tunnel fields, train tracks and the insides of train stations.

  Philip took something from the table, a pair of old-fashioned, Vizar goggles. ‘Put these on. This is footage of London taken only days ago.’

  I slid the oversized glasses over my ears and pictures flashed before my eyes, as though I was walking in the footsteps of the person who had recorded these images.

  There was only blackness. Heavy pollution. Huddled lanes of foot traffic. Murkiness. Grubby paths and buildings. Victorian almost.

  Philip told me, ‘Everything you see is real. The streets are full. People fear the countryside. London was hardest hit of course. There are countless stories of bodies lying undiscovered for days amongst the living. Such are our times.’

  I ripped the goggles off and went towa
rd the table. I clung onto the edge as I absorbed it all, hunched over as I took some deep breaths. It was no way to live never mind survive. We were all surviving but that was just… purgatorial.

  ‘You are privileged, Seraph. New York isn’t as badly off as other places,’ Philip began. ‘There, in their own domain, you are a trifle to them. A pastime. They keep their eyes on you for the fun of it. Their secrets are so tightly kept, they will not give them up. Amongst the relative wealth of New York, you appear to them as nothing more than a naïve investigator with a futile dictate. However, to us, you are something much more…’

  I stood straight again. I looked around the room. I stared at their faces until recognition set in. I was known to them. Not just as Eve’s niece but as the one reporter actively chasing Officium’s secrets.

  ‘So many people here read your work, follow your progress. You give hope where there is none. It is a vile existence we face without Eve. Whatever can be done, will be done. You must not think yourself immune any longer.’

  I shook my head. I tapped my lips with a forefinger. ‘My xGen contains information. I cannot tell you of its origin or its content… but it is the sort they would definitely want to keep under wraps. Small details that the director would squirm at. Even though he is estranged from his son, I have things on the former “heir to the throne” that neither would want to be released. Trust me. I made it clear to everyone in my circle that I have this stuff. Some so-called buddies of mine are actually loyal members of Officium and I keep them close because… well… Eve taught me that. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’

  I took a breath. It was dawning on me that all my previous moments of triumph were leading up to something so much more important.