The General frowned, replacing his cap as he surveyed the salt flats. The sand still blew, obscuring the sun’s pale glimmer. Joe squinted, sure for a moment that he’d seen something inside those churning clouds.
“Send another patrol,” Jardine ordered. “Tell them to take all precautions for— Who in the heck is that?”
Following his gaze, Joe saw a figure beyond the fence, sprinting towards the camp. The dust clouds boiled as he staggered then picked himself up, waving madly. The General unclipped a macrotelescope from his belt, training it. “Doesn’t look like one of ours,” he said. “Tell the men to ready a warning shot.”
Joe gestured to the ’scope. “Can I see?”
Jardine handed it over and Joe squinted through, trying to pick out the hurtling figure. He twisted the focus and his mouth dropped.
“It’s Nate!” he said. “Private Black Crow, it’s him, it really is. Oh, tell them not to shoot him!”
Black Crow grabbed the ’scope, looking in amazement. “Joe’s right,” she said. “General, I know him. He’s from Frisco. He’s just a kid.”
The General scowled. “Send someone to fetch him,” he told his aide. “Have him brought here.”
A panel lifted in the fence and a jeep sped out, hurtling towards Nate. But then Black Crow gave a gasp, raising the ’scope to inspect the dust cloud. “Sir, I don’t think he’s alone down there.”
Joe shielded his eyes, trying to work out what was happening. There was something moving inside those clouds of sand, something dark and determined.
Then a strong wind blew, the dust was driven back and The Five’s army was revealed.
They came sweeping across the salt plain, riding a wave of billowing sand. Windshields and wheel rims shone in the sudden sunlight, and their engines rumbled like approaching thunder.
In the centre was the stage truck, gun turrets rising from the roof. The train car followed, gleaming in the desert light, ahead of two big black lorries that Joe hadn’t seen before. To either side, the smaller vehicles spread out like a bow wave, a charging mass of steel and rubber and smoke.
“Man the defences!” General Jardine screamed. “Get to your posts!”
Alarms wailed and Joe saw doors flying open all across the camp, men streaming out with rifles and radios, some still tugging on their uniforms. They swarmed down towards the fence, watching in disbelief as the army thundered closer. The lone jeep had reached Nate; a door flew open and he tumbled into the back. The jeep skidded in a desperate circle, pelting for the safety of the fence.
Atop the sentry towers the energy cannons spun and spat, blue firebolts striking just ahead of the advancing army. Fountains of white erupted, then the cannons fired again and this time they made contact. Engines exploded, oil and chem fuel catching fire in the air and raining down. The sound arrived late, the boom of the initial explosion followed by the scream of twisted metal.
“They’re outgunned,” Black Crow said, clutching Joe’s shoulder. “Those cannons will tear them apart.”
But Joe wasn’t convinced. He saw the frontmost vehicles slowing, the attack line breaking as the smaller ones picked up speed, darting for the fence. One in particular broke from the pack – a tiny, reinforced assault vehicle, gaining momentum as it powered across the flat.
“They need to blast him,” Joe said, pointing desperately. “They need to blast him now!”
Someone on the ground clearly had the same idea – the energy cannons swivelled, blue bolts sending up jets of sand and salt. But the vehicle swerved clear, skidding as it closed on the fence. Joe saw the door fly open, the driver flinging himself out, rolling on the hard ground.
Then the vehicle struck the fence and Joe was forced to look away, the light from the explosion momentarily blinding him. The ground shook and in its wake he heard the screech of falling metal. He looked to see one of the sentry towers toppling, tearing a hole in the fence as it fell. The mounted cannon exploded in a burst of energy, ripping a huge crater in the ground. Joe saw the Mariner defensive line scrambling back as another fence panel fell, crushing soldiers beneath it.
There was a cheer from out on the flats, echoing from the dry slopes behind him. More vehicles broke from the central pack – Joe saw the Wildcats accelerating as they approached the breach in the fence, bouncing over the scorched ground. The second energy cannon was still firing, taking out a pair of lightweight squad cars. But a barrage of rockets from the speeding army slammed into the tower beneath it, weakening the struts. It swayed and groaned then it toppled forward, the cannon exploding as it struck the ground.
“This is bad,” Black Crow muttered. “This is very bad.”
A small, dented jeep came racing through the camp towards them, bouncing over the stony ground. It screeched to a halt and the rear door flew open, Nate scrambling out into the light. His skin was scorched red and Joe saw scars on his face that hadn’t been there before. He pulled him in and they embraced, ignoring the din and the madness below them.
“What are you doing here?” Joe asked. “Why did The Five let you go?”
“Kara persuaded them,” Nate explained. “I’ll tell you all about it, but, Joe, we have to get to my aunt as fast as we can. I have a message for her, a time and a radio frequency. Kara said it was really, really… Mary?” He blinked as he saw Private Black Crow. “What are you doing here?”
“She’s been helping me,” Joe said. Then he looked up at his escort. “Will you take us to Nate’s aunt? Can you drive us to Frisco?”
Black Crow looked doubtfully down towards the fence. Mariners swarmed into the breach, mounting a last-ditch defence as The Five’s army drew relentlessly closer. General Jardine was barking orders into his radio, his face red with fury and disbelief.
“Will it help?” she asked. “Will it help us beat them?”
Nate nodded. “If we can get there in time, we might be able to make all this stop.”
17
The Mariner Council
The cops picked Cane up at the Tower of Lost Children, hammering on her door as she struggled into her overalls. There were two of them, one tall and one broad, in blue-black uniforms with handguns in their holsters. Marco lurked in the corridor behind them, looking worried and half asleep. “What’s this about?” he demanded. “Who gave your orders?”
The tall policeman shrugged. “We were told to bring her to the Council Chamber. Anything past that’s not our concern.”
“But why now?” Marco asked as they shoved past him, leading Cane to the elevator. “With this raider army advancing on the city, haven’t you got better things to do than arresting teenage girls?”
“You’d think so,” muttered the short cop.
“I’ll come as soon as I can,” Marco told Cane. “I’ll find out what’s happening and—”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” she told him. “Stay and look after the others – they’ll need you if the raiders come.”
The lift doors closed, the policemen standing silently as they descended to the lobby, ushering her through the sliding doors and into the foggy dawn. There was a patrol boat moored to the dock and she hunched in the back as they peeled away, ploughing through the still, shrouded water.
“Do you honestly not know what this is about?” she asked. “Who gave the order – my uncle?”
“It was Councillor Weaver,” the tall cop said. “She told us to bring you in, quiet like.”
Cane sat back feeling partly relieved, partly worried. She’d been wrestling with her conscience for days, half of her wanting to report what Rex had said, the other half scared stiff by her uncle’s threats. If she betrayed her family a second time, she doubted even Sedna could keep her safe.
“Is there any news about the raiders?” she asked, trying to distract herself. “Have we turned them back yet?”
Word of the attack on Camp Badwater had broken the day before, spreading swiftly through the city. Everyone knew it would be dealt with quickly. No desert rabble could stand again
st the might of the Mariners. But still, it was the first time their defences had been breached.
“Last I heard they were still coming,” the short cop said. “Past Modesto and moving west.”
Cane’s mouth fell open. “But those are residential zones. Why haven’t they been stopped?”
The tall cop shrugged. “Maybe if your dad was in charge things’d be different. Hard to imagine him letting some band of mudfoots just walk in.”
“My father fought one battle and lost,” Cane bristled. “Trust me, he’d only make things worse.”
They approached the Council Chamber, the plastiglass dome glistening through the mist. Surrounding it was a concourse dotted with trees, where loudspeakers relayed the day’s debates to anyone who wanted to hear them. This morning the platform was packed, groups of Mariners standing silently in the fog, waiting anxiously for news of the invaders. The cops moored their boat to one of the jetties, ushering Cane towards the dome.
“I’m just saying we have to be prepared.” The voice from the speakers was Sedna’s, earnest and insistent. “Of course my honourable friend is right, we will repel these raiders before they reach the city. But how could it hurt to have our ships standing ready, in the unlikely event that an evacuation becomes necessary? The schools at least should be cleared.”
“All right, all right.” Rex’s calm voice was unmistakeable. “If it’ll soothe Councillor Weaver’s fears, I will concede her point about the schools. But we cannot let fear drive our decisions. We need to rely on the information we have.”
“And what information do we have?” This was a man’s voice, quiet but edged with steel. Arthur Simwe, the Mariner president. “The reports I’ve received are patchy at best – we have no real idea how far this army has advanced overnight. They could be on our doorstep and we wouldn’t know it until the cannons started firing.”
People on the concourse glanced at one another, muttering fearfully. But Rex just laughed.
“That’s impossible. Our troops are fighting for every inch of ground. I have no doubt that the next communication I receive will be from one of my commanders telling me the attack has been halted. We’re the technological power here – they are desert rats in battered jalopies.”
“Heavily armed desert rats,” Sedna pointed out. “And surprisingly well organised. If I’m honest, my honourable friend’s overconfidence recalls another member of his family.”
There was murmuring from the other councillors and Rex growled angrily. “How many times do I have to remind the councillor that I am not my brother? I have distanced myself entirely from his actions, I have—”
“Very well,” Sedna said wearily. “I withdraw the comment. Now if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have another important matter to attend to. I’ll have those evacuation plans drawn up and ready to carry out by midday.”
The cops led Cane across the concourse, but before they reached the building they turned aside, making for an arched opening where a flight of steps led down into the building’s labyrinthine underchambers. From the surface the Council Chamber looked like a dome, resting on the surface of the water. But, in fact, it was a huge, half-submerged sphere, enclosed in a network of steel struts like an egg in a nest. The bottom half of the sphere was separated into several levels, linked by stairways and divided into offices and conference rooms. Through the transparent walls Cane could see aides busy at their work, computer screens flickering. The ocean surrounded them on all sides, and beneath her feet she could see a faint cylinder of shifting light as a tram passed through a tunnel.
“Wait here,” one of the cops said, directing her into a small glass chamber with a desk and two chairs. They departed and Cane sat, the soft rush of the sea surrounding her. Looking up she could see through the reinforced ceiling to the central chamber where the councillors sat, dressed in their sea-blue robes of office. They were drawn from all walks of Mariner life, Cane knew – teachers and fisherfolk and soldiers.
But never forget, her father would always tell her, these people may mean well, but they’re politicians. They can’t always be trusted, not with the tough decisions. Talking can only get you so far – sooner or later someone has to act.
So how should I act now? Cane wondered. Should I betray you, Father? Or should I betray what I believe in?
“I’m sorry to drag you down here.” Sedna’s voice made her start, the old woman tucking her stick under her arm as she pushed into the office. “But there was something I needed you to see rather urgently.”
She took a chair, activated a computer tablet and scrolled down until she found the right file. “This footage was taken approximately seventy minutes ago, just before dawn,” she said, laying the tablet flat on the desk. “No one else knows about it apart from the governor of Alcatraz, myself and a handful of other councillors. I don’t want to go public until I know precisely who’s responsible.”
The image was from a security camera, the footage grainy and indistinct. But Cane recognised the parking lot of Alcatraz prison, the outer fence and the entrance hall. Floodlights flickered and a familiar figure emerged through the reinforced doorway, hurrying across the concrete. She watched as her father jumped into a small amphibious vehicle, slammed the door and pulled away.
“Apparently he got hold of some newly developed computer virus that infected the security system,” Sedna said. “Shut down all the locks, all the alarms. The guards went to secure the most violent offenders and he took the chance to escape. But here, this is from a few days ago. Look.”
This time the image was of the meeting room at Alcatraz, a figure standing with her back to the camera. Cane recognised her own overalls, saw her father getting to his feet with a look of dismay. She turned but he called her back and they pressed their wrists together. Sedna froze the picture.
“We believe this was how he acquired the virus. It was masked to look like a financial transaction.”
Cane gripped the edge of the desk. “I didn’t know,” she said. “You have to believe me. He said it was just for luxuries. I didn’t—”
“Who said?” Sedna demanded. “Who gave you the virus?”
“I can’t,” Cane said. “They’ll kill me if I tell you.”
“I can protect you,” Sedna insisted. “But I have to know. Whoever was behind this must have helped plan your father’s attack on London, and organised the theft of the Kraken. And Cane, we have reason to believe they were also behind the pirate attack that killed my nephew and his friends. We believe they were trying to free your father before we could return him to Frisco.”
Cane screwed up her eyes and for a moment it felt like the walls around her were cracking, the ocean rushing in to swallow her. Her mind swam, her thoughts were drowned, and it was all she could do to keep breathing.
Then she saw a face in her mind and fixed on it, hearing the echo of words from long ago. You know what’s right and what’s wrong, Kara had told her. Maybe they’ll try to tell you otherwise, but you’re tough, you can handle it.
“It was my uncle,” she said, forcing the words out. “He’s behind it all. He’s not working alone – my family are in on it too, and some of the other councillors. But Rex and my father call the shots.”
Sedna nodded kindly. “I suspected as much but it’s good to have it confirmed. I’m just sorry you had to be the one to tell me. And I’m sorry your own family used you like this. It’s monstrous.”
Cane looked at the floor. “It’s just what they’re like. It’s what I was like, too.”
“Would you be willing to repeat all this to the Council?” Sedna asked. “Would you be willing to stand up and accuse your uncle of treason?”
Cane hesitated, then she gritted her teeth and nodded. “If he killed Kara, then I want to hear him admit it. And if my father’s escaped, then people have to know.”
There was a knock on the door and a young woman stepped in. “Councillor, I’m sorry but there’s been an emergency transmission from a jeep crossing the Bay Brid
ge. It seems they escaped the attack on Badwater and now they want to meet with you, right away.”
“With me?” Sedna asked. “I wonder what’s going on.”
She got unsteadily to her feet, leaning on her stick. Cane took her arm and they climbed the steps to the concourse where groups of Mariners still stood waiting for news. The mist was dense and coiling; Cane could feel it on her skin.
Past the dome a narrow slip road led down from the Bay Bridge, and on it they could see milky headlamps cutting through the fog. In the distance she thought she heard the rumble of thunder.
Then the shadows coalesced as a lightweight jeep pulled up, tyres screeching. The passenger door flew open and two small figures jumped out, running towards them. Sedna watched in disbelief, clutching Cane’s arm with bony fingers. Cane felt her knees go weak, and had a sudden vision of the two of them falling flat on their backsides in surprise.
“Aunt Sedna!” Nate shouted, his voice echoing in the gloom. “It’s us!”
“But…” Sedna managed, shaking her head. “But how is this possible?”
“It’s a long story,” Nate said, flinging his arms around her and squeezing as hard as he could.
“We floated to shore and got picked up by The Five,” Joe said. “They brought us most of the way and after that, Private Black Crow took over.”
“OK,” Nate admitted. “Not that long.”
Sedna seized Joe, rubbing his scruffy scalp with the flat of her hand. “Welcome to Frisco at last,” she smiled. “And look, here’s someone else to see you.”
Cane’s hands were shaking; she was almost too shocked to be happy. “Where’s Kara?” she asked, peering through the fog towards the jeep. A young woman had climbed from the driver’s seat but she had dark hair and a Mariner uniform. “Isn’t she with you?”
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