She fetched a drink. She could see the lighthouse through the kitchen window. What does Edith actually know? If Hal had been in touch, if her uncle Johannes had authorised David’s trip, then it was possible she’d been given just enough rope with which to hang herself. She turned to face the stove and soak up the heat on her skin. She was trapped in Jutland, no point rueing the fact of it.
‘I don’t understand why you’re being so calm about her refusal to help us,’ said Jane after a few minutes.
David looked at Helena and she was delighted to find he felt the same way as she did.
‘Jane, she said she’d cooperate with us,’ he said.
‘She’s a proud woman,’ said Helena. ‘She had to find a way of granting us her aid without doing so explicitly. In the end our arrival here was what she needed.’ Helena did not mention her mother’s conversation with Hal Lanais; it was a card up her sleeve for when it might be needed.
Jane chewed her lip as she thought it over. ‘Who is this boy she’s on about?’ she asked eventually.
‘Her favourite concubine. She sent him into Skagen to pick up some vellum. He’s due back with the first wave of Indexiv soldiers. She won’t leave without him.’
‘Should be simple enough,’ said David.
Helena arched her eyebrows. ‘I’ve heard that before,’ was all she said.
Her AI laughed in her mind. What? she asked it.
The irony of you having to chase another boy is amusing, came the reply.
I’m glad you find it funny, thought Helena bitterly.
Funny? No, it is nothing to joke about, said her AI.
Helena didn’t understand but let the conversation end of its own accord.
‘We’ll be on our way home by this time tomorrow,’ said David brightly. ‘Finding a concubine in such a small town won’t be difficult, even if he is wearing clothes.’
‘I’m not tired, but I can’t think of anything better to do than sleep,’ said Helena, a weariness of spirit suddenly overwhelming her. She found spending time with Edith emotionally exhausting, often coming away feeling as if she’d somehow let Edith down, had failed to live up to some never-articulated set of expectations.
‘The weather doesn’t look like it’s going to lift,’ said David.
‘No,’ said Jane dully.
Helena left them talking and went to bed.
She didn’t try to sleep, but instead she sat in one of the corner bedrooms on the first floor and thought. Like the rest of the house, the room was sparsely decorated with an ancient wood wardrobe hanging open against one bare wall. A single bed was made up with fraying woollen blankets. After an hour of chewing over her life, Helena couldn’t go anywhere but in circles. She was troubled by what her mother had said about their assumption that everything was connected. Edith was right; there was no reason for everything to be connected. Her most disturbing thought related to Edith’s perceptive assessment of her team’s influence and authority. Helena’s career had been going places before Southern Africa, but she wasn’t yet into the third tier of Company management. To assign her, and people who appeared to be in a similar position, to what was clearly such a strategic role smacked of gesture politics. When they made it home, she resolved to dig, to find out who had ordered the creation of the team and who had opposed it. Her uncle was not the only power within Euros.
At about four in the morning, daylight began to seep through the wretched drizzle of the persistent clouds. Helena finally managed to grab a couple of hours sleep and, at around half six, returned to the kitchen.
She was mildly surprised to find David and Jane sitting around the stove, still engaged in conversation. Jane greeted her with, ‘Helena, we were just trying to figure out where your mother’s concubines would have slept last night. Not one of them returned here.’ David smirked at Helena.
‘She’s a woman of appetites,’ was all Helena said.
Helena shared their optimism as they sped into Skagen in the hovercraft. David raced himself and made it to the town in less than half an hour. Skagen was important to no one. The only Companies present were those who had product offerings to sell its residents. Items for sale included simple and, in many cases, antiquated technology such as holographic projectors and communications network hooks into the Cloud. Helena assumed the most basic of nanotechnology would also have been sold, but it seemed unlikely from what she had seen the previous day that anyone could afford much more. There was little potential for the local population to earn much energy; even the grandest entrepreneurial spirit knew there was no profit to be had from those with no capital. Only rich fools had money from which to be parted.
They stopped at the first major junction in town. There on the south-western corner was an old stone building with an ancient geometric tower, topping out at twenty metres. Helena suspected it might be a church; there were dozens of them in the City, but none as tiny as the one before them. She found it curious that such a small town would have an ancient monument without some sort of heritage or tourism revenue program having been put in place. It was wasteful not to make the most of their resources.
It wasn’t designed for spectators, said her AI.
True enough, she thought, but it felt unreal to stand before a building that was older than her grandfather.
At least six hundred years, said her AI.
David and Jane remarked on it as well; Jane explained that it was a Christian place of worship. The northern Europeans had been almost exclusively Lutheran. Helena stopped listening to the discussion. She wasn’t interested in finding out who the Lutherans had been. The church, while unusual in its context, surrounded as it was by wooden framed houses on every side, was plain, almost austere in its design, showing little in the way of aesthetic flourish.
‘Where do we start?’ asked Jane once they were all standing in the street. The weather had not let up and the rain soaked them through. Helena barely noticed it; her body worked gently to ensure she maintained a steady body temperature.
David shrugged. ‘I guess we ask the locals. There can’t be too many places supplying vellum.’
‘Agreed,’ said Helena and they began walking into the centre of Skagen.
The streets were empty apart from a few scattered individuals either working in the open air or scurrying between buildings. The three oligarchs moved rapidly at first but, by unspoken consensus, they gradually slowed down. Helena assumed that the few people they did see, mainly maintenance crews, would not know what vellum was. Their best bet was to find someone working in administration for one of the Companies. Company buildings would be easy enough to spot: any construction not made of wood or stone.
They’d gone about half a kilometre when they passed a second street crew. This team was composed of a node and his two mechanics, both of whom were highly augmented with cybernetic adaptations. The node appeared human at first glance, but his skin was slightly too grey and his darkened eyes had no whites. Like many Normals working in cities, he wore a filter covering his mouth, which enabled him to work in particulate-filled environments where nanotechnology, for whatever reason, wasn’t deployed to make an area safe.
David and Jane moved past the trio without a second glance, but as Helena came level with them, she noticed them staring in her direction. Both mechanics had stopped their work while the node turned in her direction and watched.
Feeling sensitive to what a node could be doing Helena asked her tertiary AI to monitor its transmissions. It immediately reported back with the work crew’s job number and assignment. They were supposed to be securing a number of Insel’s more business critical information relays against the possibility of electromagnetic pulse damage.
Helena knew it was a standard procedure but couldn’t help feeling that Insel’s move was highly cynical, given that it undoubtedly knew Indexiv’s broader strategic objective.
The node was acting as a sniffer dog, marking the exact locations of the hubs Insel was concerned with so the mechanics could make
them safe. From the grimy streaks of dirt on the mechanics’ overalls, it was clear they had been underground for at least part of the day.
Thinking nothing of their stares, Helena turned away with another glance in their direction. She slowed to a stop, unnerved. The three Normals didn’t stop staring at Helena when she returned their gaze. As she looked back up the road at the receding forms of Jane and David, it occurred to her that distinguishing one Normal from an insurgent would be impossible until one of them pointed a gun in their direction. The work crew’s body language wasn’t aggressive, nor was it especially defiant.
Having had enough of their stares, Helena said, ‘Get back to your work.’
Toward what result are they working?asked her AI.They will be dead soon, and Insel will no longer have any basis for operations here. Their task is redundant; it is illogical that they complete this assignment.
Helena couldn’t fault her AI’s reasoning, except if they didn’t do what they were given to do, what then? What would they do while they waited to die?
They could fight Indexiv’s troops, suggested her AI.
There’s one reason why Insel haven’t asked them to do that and it’s because they’re Normals. They have no chance of defeating Indexiv’s core soldiers. It would be a task as futile as the exercise they are currently engaged in.
Her AI said nothing.
Helena thought their current work was unstressful, peaceful in its own way. When Indexiv finally came for them, it would be done without the trauma of fighting a doomed fight without arms or any hope of winning.
Perhaps it is better to die fighting than waiting for termination to come in its own time, said her AI. Helena thought of Southern Africa. She knew dying passively wasn’t to be celebrated. Why make Indexiv’s activities more efficient?
Finally, the gang turned away from her. They slowly resumed their task, as if they had all the time in the world. The node watched the street and led the others forward.
They wouldn’t know what to do with themselves if freed from this task and allowed to decide their own destiny, thought Helena. They do not have the capacity to make their own choices under such a burden of freedom.
Her AI said nothing in response and, satisfied that the trio of workers were back into their groove, Helena jogged the three-hundred metre gap between herself, David and Jane.
As she caught up with them, David said to her, ‘They’re unsettled, agitated. It occurs to me that perhaps Insel informed their more advanced Normals of what is coming their way.’ Helena hadn’t been the only one to spot it then.
‘It would explain their response to us for sure,’ said Helena.
‘I hear what you’re saying,’ said Jane, ‘but Normals always stare at us when we mix. They don’t seem to be able to help themselves.’
She doesn’t see it, thought Helena.
‘It was more an observation,’ said David and, for the first time in a while, caught Helena’s eye with a look lamenting Jane’s lack of experience.
The streets did not become busier as they worked their way through town. By the time they found themselves at the centre, it felt like the skeleton of some long-dead creature washed up on the shore. Skagen’s residents were scarce, faces at windows, crews cleaning the streets. The weather wasn’t to blame, and Helena was certain that Insel had engaged in some sort of remedial strategy to lessen the impact of the security force making its way north from Frederikshavn.
Insel’s local headquarters turned out to be low-rise organic polymer buildings in a helical pattern. From the front reception, it could be seen that the building was one continuous floor growing out of the ground in a rising, twisting curl. She appreciated the sentiment; the technologies which had enabled the Scandinavian nation states to convert themselves into Insel were primarily gene therapies and pharmaceuticals. That Insel’s motif was a double helix had a certain appropriate beauty to it.
When it became clear that no one would greet them at the reception, the three made their way swiftly through the building. They found no sign of any Company employees, nor was there any sign of Insel intending to return to the site now it had been evacuated.
After encountering a thin layer of dust, Helena carefully confirmed the absence of any nanotechnology. Insel had completely gone.
At a loss, the three of them regrouped at the top of the building, just five storeys above ground.
‘What now?’ asked Helena, hands on hips.
Jane shrugged. ‘They moved out pretty swiftly.’
Helena looked around, taking in the empty room once again.
‘He’s here somewhere here in Skagen,’ said David. ‘Do you think your mother…?’
‘Yes,’ said Helena. ‘She knew what she was asking. She’s gotten another day out of us’
‘Then she probably knows more than that,’ said Jane. ‘I think we should go and ask her where to find her young man.’
They made their way back down. She considered it highly unlikely they’d be gone within their original time frame.
Nanotech, announced her AI suddenly. Helena stopped and called out to the others. Outlined on the far ground wall, in letters three millimetres high, was the word ‘help’, spelled out in nanomachinery. Helena approached the wall and the nanobots rearranged themselves into another pattern: an arrow pointing to the right. Helena saw nothing but the curvature of the building. She turned back to the arrow only to see that the nanomachinery once more asked for assistance. After a few seconds, the arrow remerged. That was the entirety of the message.
David was already at the wall, running his hands over its smooth surface. ‘I can’t feel anything,’ he said.
‘Hold on,’ said Jane, standing back from them. ‘David, at the base of the wall there’s a faint power signal; see if you can find its source.’
David crouched and ran his hands along the edge of the floor. Hesitating, he moved his fingers over one spot a couple of times. ‘Helena, come take a look at this.’
He stood up, so she could get in close. The floor and walls were utterly smooth and, at first, Helena couldn’t find anything. The surface was too smooth for her nanotechnology to spot variances in height. Then she found it, a pock mark on the floor, round and descending a hundred micrometres into the ground. She instinctively knew it was a key hole. Nodding at David, she released a few thousand nanobots into the aperture and was satisfied to feel movement under her feet. Across the room, underneath the repeating distress call, the floor rolled back to reveal a steep staircase descending into gloom. The three of them gathered around the top.
A voice came from below. ‘Edith, thank the heavens you’ve come.’
Stepping back from the edge of the stairs, they waited as first one, then another and finally five Oligarchs emerged from their hiding place.
The first of them, upon seeing Helena breathed a sigh of relief. Then, realising she wasn’t Edith, he unholstered a light pistol and pointed it at them.
‘I’m Helena Woolf,’ said Helena, palms up, ‘Edith’s daughter, out of Euros. She asked us to come find her favourite concubine: number six.’
‘There were six of us,’ said the leader. ‘As you can see we number five now.’
‘Euros you say?’ asked one of the others. ‘Then Indexiv haven’t occupied the entire peninsula yet?’
‘Our best estimate is they’re still five days away,’ said David.
The group of Oligarchs looked at one another before the leader spoke again. ‘That gives us some time at least. You’ll come with us back to the lighthouse?’
‘Of course,’ said Helena. ‘There was no concubine was there? She always intended us to find the six of you.’
‘No, there is a number six. She probably does want you to find him, especially with what you’ve done to the town,’ said one of the others with distinct rancour in his voice.
David snorted. ‘What we’ve done? I noticed Insel has left its Normals fulfilling their standard duties in spite of the approaching task force.’
>
From outside came the sound of a mech crew emerging from underground. The Insel staff shifted nervously. ‘We’d prefer to return to the lighthouse before we brief you on what Euros has instigated here.’
‘Just so you are clear, we are not worried about Indexiv.’ said one of the others flatly.
‘Do any of you have the energy to run?’ asked Helena; the hovercraft did not have room for three of the five passengers. To her surprise, there was a unanimous shaking of heads.
‘We’ve been here for three days,’ said one of them.
He looked as if he was about to elaborate when the first to emerge from the hole said, ‘Jens, now is not the time, yes?’ Looking at Helena he said, ‘We should return to the lighthouse.’
What aren’t they telling us? The silence of the town, the behaviour of the Normals, the allegations of interference by the Company suggested something more. The staff in front of her were not about to explain; their nervousness was infectious.
‘OK,’ said David and Helena nodded her agreement. ‘Let’s go. Our vehicle is too small to take you all at once, so we’ll do two trips: whatever order you like.’
‘Shall we go then?’ said one of the staff brusquely.
Helena, David and Jane left the building and walked nearly a hundred metres before Jane said, ‘They’re not following us.’
The other two stopped and they looked back. The five Insel members were standing in the reception entrance, staring out into the street like frightened animals. Some way further on a small mech crew of Normals watched them.
Helena shivered; she felt as if she were being watched from all angles.
‘It’s starting to make sense to me,’ said David.
‘It can’t be,’ said Jane.
Helena hovered on the edge of enhancing her senses; there wasn’t enough proof for her to spend energy yet. ‘Wait here,’ she said and sprinted back towards the Insel crowd. They looked slightly embarrassed, but mostly fearful, as she approached.
A People's War (The Oligarchy Book 2) Page 11
