Scavenger Blood

by Janet Edwards

  He paused before adding in a bitter voice. “I think you’ll remember visiting it, Blaze.”

  I winced. Yes, I remembered visiting the Citadel very well indeed. It was the largest building in Manhattan, towering high above everything else, and covering a vast area.

  “You’ve actually visited the Citadel?” asked Tad.

  Donnell nodded. “That was the building we were exploring on our salvage trip to Manhattan last summer. That was where Blaze broke her arm. That was where Julien’s father, Lund, died. He was one of my original officers and oldest friends.”

  There was a grim silence before Donnell spoke again. “Cage was on the salvage trip last summer too. I expect that’s why he thought of hiding in the Citadel. He just needs to reach the roof to be able to hunt all the geese and ducks he wants in perfect safety. Everyone knows the Wallam-Crane family had a mansion up there, a suitably palatial residence for the rulers of the world, surrounded by ornamental lakes and gardens. Since the roof of the Citadel is far higher than the surrounding buildings, there’s no way for falling stars to make gliding attacks up there.”

  “Cage is living in the rooftop mansion right now,” said Tad, in tones of self-recrimination. “I should have guessed he was basing himself there the minute I heard he’d got a working sniper rifle. The laws about permanently disabling all the old guns in museums and private collections were strictly enforced. The only people who’d never have been subjected to inspection visits were the Wallam-Crane family themselves.”

  “You think that sniper rifle came from the Citadel and belonged to your family, Tad?” I asked.

  “I don’t think that it did,” said Tad bleakly. “I know that it did. I’ve just searched the family records for references to projectile sniper rifles, and found we had one in the mansion museum. The rifle had been used in a failed assassination attempt against Thaddeus Ignatius Wallam-Crane, the inventor of interstellar portal technology.”

  I instinctively looked at Donnell.

  “The assassination attempt was absolutely nothing to do with me,” said Donnell hastily. “Thaddeus Ignatius Wallam-Crane died of old age long before I was born.”

  “The assassination attempt happened at a science conference when Thaddeus Ignatius was only a boy,” said Tad. “The assassin was really trying to kill his father, Thaddeus Carmichael, to stop him from forming the United Earth Government. There was a late change of plan, and Ignatius turned up at the science conference instead of Carmichael, but the assassin decided to continue regardless.”

  Tad shrugged. “Fortunately, a security guard intervened in time to make the assassin miss his shot. The assassination attempt was why Carmichael insisted on the first session of the United Earth Government bringing in a whole range of gun control laws. Ignatius kept the sniper rifle as a souvenir, and had it hanging on his bedroom wall for the rest of his life.”

  I blinked. “Why would Ignatius want to keep that sniper rifle on his bedroom wall?”

  “Ignatius was ... a little eccentric in many ways,” said Tad. “I’ve studied his diaries, and mathematics seemed to be more real to him than people, so he’d do things like having conversations with equations. The sniper rifle amused him as a symbol of all the alternate universes where the bullet had hit its target and he was dead.”

  Tad sighed. “Anyway, I’ve got bad news for you.”

  “It can’t be worse than the news that Cage is hiding in the Citadel,” said Donnell.

  “I’m afraid it can be worse,” said Tad. “A lot worse. The huge jump in power demand that triggered my algorithm can only have been caused by one thing. The Citadel got its name because it had lethal defences, and Cage has turned those defences on.”

  “Exactly how bad are these defences?” asked Donnell.

  Tad made a pained noise. “The defences include everything imaginable. There are steel doors that can slam shut to seal off sections of the building, trap rooms with nasty surprises like spikes and poison gas, as well as areas set up to electrocute intruders. The whole defence system was shut down when my family left for Adonis, but Cage must have got control of the Citadel security system and turned the defences on again.”

  Donnell frowned. “You say that Cage must have got control of the Citadel security system to turn on these defences?”

  Tad nodded.

  “How could Cage have got control of the security system?” asked Donnell. “When the Resistance first occupied the Americas Parliament House, Machico spent six weeks trying and failing to get control of the security system here. In the end, he had to ask for help from an old friend who’d worked on the Parliament House security system in the past. I don’t see how Cage could have achieved something in days that my technical expert couldn’t do in weeks.”

  “The only possible explanation is that the Citadel had run out of power at some point,” said Tad. “When the New York power supply was shut down eighteen years ago, the Citadel would have swapped to using its internal stored power reserves. Those were designed to last for at least twenty years, but they must have been exhausted a few years earlier than expected.”

  Tad gave a despairing wave of his hands. “When the Citadel ran out of power, the security system would have shut down. When I turned on the New York power supply, the security system would have come on again using the original installation settings. Cage just had to reach the Security Control Room in the rooftop mansion, put his hand on the registration plate, and he could take control of the Citadel security system.”

  “Even if Cage has got control of the security system and turned on the defences, I don’t see why it’s a serious issue,” said Donnell. “You must be able to turn the defences off again.”

  “No, I can’t access the Citadel security system,” said Tad.

  “But you used the old Wallam-Crane family security codes to access the New York power control system,” said Donnell. “Those codes must surely work on the security system of a building that actually belonged to your family.”

  “The security codes aren’t the problem,” said Tad. “When I say that I can’t access the Citadel security system, I mean that I’ve got no way to reach it. It’s the same type of security system that you have here in Parliament House. It isn’t connected to the Earth data net.”

  “I realize this suggestion might be upsetting for you because the Citadel was your family home,” said Donnell cautiously, “but a few days ago we set fire to some apartment blocks to drive Cage out of them. Could we use the same tactic and set fire to the Citadel?”

  Tad shook his head. “That suggestion doesn’t upset me. My family abandoned the Citadel long before I was born. Setting fire to it wouldn’t be like setting fire to those apartment blocks though. The Citadel has multiple, highly sophisticated, fire defence systems, that would put out the fire within seconds.”

  Donnell tugged at his hair. “So we can’t set fire to the Citadel, it’s on such a vast scale that any explosion could only damage a small section of it, and you can’t take control of the security system.”

  “The only way for me to do anything to the security system is to reach the Security Control Room myself,” said Tad.

  “And if we try to get there, Cage will use the Citadel defences against us,” said Donnell gloomily.

  Tad nodded. “Yes, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him.” He hesitated, and his expression suddenly changed. “Unless ...”

  “Unless?” I prompted him hopefully.

  “When you cross over the Unity Bridge to Manhattan,” said Tad eagerly, “you arrive at the open area called Wallam-Crane Square. The Citadel is on the far side of the square, and my ancestors had a public broadcast system they used to make speeches to crowds gathered there. The Citadel security system may not have a connection to the Earth data net, but the public broadcast system does form a temporary connection during broadcasts, so it can livestream them on the Earth data net.”

  “How does that help us?” asked Donnell.

  “It helps us because
the security system and the public broadcast system are both controlled from the mansion Security Control Room,” said Tad. “They use the same external cameras to get views of Wallam-Crane Square, so it should be possible to alter the connections on a camera to create a link between the two systems.”

  He paused. “If we could then trick Cage into using the public broadcast system, I’d be able to access that from the Earth data net, link through to the Citadel security system, and use the Wallam-Crane family security codes to take control of it.”

  “I think I vaguely understand that,” said Donnell. “Where are these cameras?”

  “Most of them are high up on the sides of the Citadel itself, so totally inaccessible, but there are a few on the balcony at the top of the Wallam-Crane Monument. That’s the massive statue of the original Thaddeus Wallam-Crane, which stands next to the Unity Bridge and ...”

  Donnell interrupted him. “We all know about the Wallam-Crane Monument, Tad. It looms over both the Unity Bridge and the Hudson River, so no one can miss seeing the hulking, ugly thing. You’re saying that I have to go to the top of the Wallam-Crane Monument, make changes to one of these cameras, and then try to trick Cage into using the public broadcast system. That should allow you to take control of the security system, and shut down the defences, so it’s safe for us to go into the Citadel to hunt Cage.”

  “That’s right, but you’ll have to take me with you,” said Tad. “I’ll need to make the changes to the camera myself, because it’s too complicated a job for me to explain to anyone else.”

  Donnell groaned. “The weather will have to be absolutely perfect for us to go to Manhattan and try this. A day cold enough for the falling stars to be dormant, and with no wind to send debris from the skyscrapers down on us.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  It was three days before we had a bitterly cold morning with a barely perceptible breeze, which were precisely the conditions we needed for a trip into Manhattan. I ate breakfast with Aaron, Rebecca, and the off-worlders as usual, and then delivered Rebecca to the crèche. Aaron, Tad, and I donned multiple layers of warm outdoor clothing, and went across to where Donnell was standing staring out through the glass front wall of Reception.

  Donnell shouted at the top of his voice. “Can I have your attention, please!”

  The sound of conversations stopped, and everyone in Reception turned to look at him.

  “On the celebration evening, I made an announcement about one of my alliance officers.” Donnell looked across at where Luther was sitting alone at a Resistance table. “People keep asking me questions about that, so I want to begin by repeating that Luther is no longer an officer.”

  “And I’m glad of it,” cried Luther. “I’ve had enough of grovelling at your feet!”

  Vijay and Weston exchanged glances, strolled across to Luther’s table, and sat down, one on each side of him. Their body language oozed menace.

  “Do we need to give you a lesson in manners, child?” asked Weston.

  Luther gave a sulky shake of his head.

  Donnell started speaking again. “This morning, I’m leading a search party to look for Cage. Both Blaze ...”

  He was interrupted by shocked comments from all corners of the room, and had to wait for quiet to continue. “Both Blaze and I will go on this trip, so we’ll have two advanced weapons with us, and I’m asking each division to supply three people as they did for the last search party.”

  After a brief delay, all four division leaders came over to join us, each bringing two people with them.

  “Given both Blaze and I will be away,” said Donnell, “I want everyone not in the search party to stay at Parliament House. I’m sure there’s plenty of useful work to be done preparing and cooking falling stars.”

  There was a chorus of groans.

  Donnell laughed. “I’d like Aaron to join the search party as well, but there’s the slight complicating factor that I need to take one of the off-worlders along to do a small job for us. Division leaders, are you willing to agree to Tad being classed as a general nuisance rather than one of the three people from the Resistance, so Aaron can accompany us?”

  Ghost gave a puzzled look at Tad. “Agreed.”

  “I’ve no objection,” said Wall.

  Ice and Raeni nodded.

  “Thank you,” said Donnell. “The Resistance will supply swords and flashlights as we’ve done before.”

  “Why do we need flashlights?” asked Wall. “Are you expecting us to be searching until dark, or going into the subway tunnels?”

  Donnell’s eyes flickered towards where Major was sitting in the Queens Island corner. “I’d rather not give any information about our plans until we’re moving.”

  A few minutes later, everyone was outside. There was total silence until we were moving along the path that led to the boathouse.

  “We’re going upriver then,” said Ice.

  “We’re going to Manhattan,” said Donnell, “and the flashlights are in case we need to explore buildings where the lights have failed.”

  “Manhattan is lethal,” said Ghost grimly. “Do you have evidence that Cage has gone there?”

  “I wouldn’t risk taking a party there otherwise,” said Donnell. “If anyone wants to turn back, then please say so now.”

  No one was willing to admit they were too scared to go to Manhattan, so we walked on past the boathouse. When we reached our reproduction paddle steamer, the Spirit of New York, I bit my lip.

  I’d been trying to blot out thoughts of where we were going, but now the Unity Bridge was right in front of us. The sides were a frivolous design of linked hands, painted gold, and supported by pairs of elegant turrets at each end.

  I knew that bridge very well. I could see it from my bedroom window. I’d walked right past it dozens of times. I’d floated beneath its rusting underside in boats. I’d only crossed it to reach skyscraper-packed Manhattan once though, and I’d been carried back on a makeshift stretcher with a broken arm and head injury. I still considered myself the lucky one on that trip though, because Julien’s father, Lund, had been killed in the same accident that injured me.

  I couldn’t prevent myself from looking over to my left, at where Lund was buried in the alliance graveyard. Raeni and Aaron were naturally looking across at the graveyard too, and I caught Tad frowning in that direction as well. I was worried that he might ask one of his tactless questions, but he just walked on in silence.

  As we neared the bridge, I wanted to slow my pace. No, that wasn’t really true. I didn’t want to slow my pace at all, but to turn around and run back to the Parliament House. I couldn’t do that. The deputy alliance leader mustn’t run away like a terrified child, so I stayed by Donnell’s side.

  Then came the moment when we reached the bridge. Going between the pair of turrets at this end felt like I was crossing an ominous barrier, and I hesitated before continuing onto the walkway itself. The metal underfoot was painted gold like the sides of the bridge, but the paint was flaking off in places, revealing the rust underneath.

  I paused when I reached the plaque at the middle of the bridge, remembering the last time I’d stood on this spot. It had been an oppressively hot summer’s day without a breath of wind. I’d read the plaque, laughed at the flowery language about the bridge being an everlasting monument to a united city in a united world, then happily walked on with the rest of the scavenging party.

  I’d stopped here on my way back across the bridge too. I hadn’t been standing that time, but lying on a stretcher. My memories of the return journey were a blurred confusion. I knew I’d been injured in an accident, but couldn’t recall any details of what had happened. I was dazed by pain, cradling my broken left arm protectively with my right hand, and both the sky and the bridge itself seemed to be swaying weirdly.

  The only thing I remembered clearly was that the men carrying my stretcher had had to put it down on this spot to let me lean over the side and be violently sick. When I’d finished
throwing up, I’d turned away from my own vomit, and found another stretcher had been put down next to mine. For a moment, I’d thought Lund was just injured like me, but then I realized I was looking at the face of a dead man.

  I’d heard Donnell’s voice then, heavy with grief and anger, swearing that he’d never lead anyone across the river to Manhattan again.

  “Blaze, are you all right?” asked the voice of the present-day Donnell.

  I forced myself to smile at him. “Of course. I was just distracted by the pompous words on that plaque.”

  I began moving again, and when we reached the turrets on the Manhattan side of the river, it was Donnell who stopped walking. We stood side by side, with the intimidating bulk of the Wallam-Crane Monument to our left, and the great open expanse of Wallam-Crane Square ahead of us.

  At the far side of the square was the mind-numbingly vast Wallam-Crane Citadel, which dwarfed all the other skyscrapers that jostled for positions in Manhattan. The last time I’d seen the Citadel, its countless thousands of windows had been dark. Now that the New York power supply was back on, all those windows glinted with lights.

  I looked up at the dizzying top of the building. Tad’s ancestors had lived up there. I wondered what Thaddeus Wallam-Crane the Eighth was thinking now, standing here with a bunch of scavengers, and looking at his ancestors’ glory.

  Tad had told us that Cage was living in the Wallam-Crane family mansion on the roof of the Citadel. I’d gone on scavenging parties in skyscrapers, but we never bothered to climb the stairs to higher than the tenth floor. How long had it taken an injured Cage to climb all the flights of stairs to reach the top of the Citadel?

  I pictured Cage struggling upwards for hour after hour. No ordinary man would have thought of attempting that climb when he was wounded, but Cage was inhumanly relentless in pursuit of his goals. He’d have had to stop and rest occasionally. He’d have paused in his progress to explore at least one of the floors, foraging for the metallic-tasting dregs of water in bathroom taps, and musty stocks of food left in long-abandoned offices. He’d have always started climbing again.