Expatria: The Box Set (18 page)
Read Expatria: The Box Set Online
Authors: Keith Brooke
He felt faintly absurd, limping through the busy kitchen, but nobody complained. He hurried through the eating area. He was in the Happy Hobo Eaterette.
He hurried out into twilight Soho and paused a few doors away.
After two minutes he knew that he had deceived his pursuers. It was likely that they had been caught unawares, thinking an old bureaucrat such as himself incapable of action. He straightened his robe and headed for Dixie Hill, smiling and breathing rapidly. The rush of adrenalin had picked him up, cleared his head.
He had only a matter of time; whatever happened to
him
, Decker must be informed of the situation. From now on everything would depend on Decker.
At the back of his mind was the thought that it had all been too easy. What if Gromyko was merely toying with him? He emerged on Grand Rue Street and turned south towards Hitachi Tower. Let them think he was returning to his apartment.
After a few minutes he turned off the thoroughfare and down an alleyway towards the docks. There were fewer people here to hide him, but there were also fewer to hide Gromyko or any of his associates. He was heading away from Dixie Hill but that was not important. The last thing he wanted was for them to guess his destination.
A baby screamed from a nearby doorway and a dog barked. Sukui hurried onwards. He came to the end of the alley and glanced over his shoulder. People going about their business, shadows long and dark. He stepped out and headed north again, relieved to be free of the alleyway. Dixie Hill was normally no more than ten minutes from Soho, but it was near to an hour before Sukui emerged from the trees at the bottom of that long, grassy slope.
An electric light was on in the hut, its steady illumination spilling out over the surrounding grass, highlighting the evening's insects and other flying invertebrates. The team would still be working and Sukui hung back for a time, not wanting to disturb them.
He took his first step up the hill and then was struck by the possibility that Gromyko could be waiting for him in the hut. It might not have been difficult to guess Sukui's destination.
He quashed the impulse to turn and run. The Project was his first consideration. If there were troops in the hut then Sukui must be there to assess the damage. He needed to learn the facts of the situation so that he could weigh the probabilities and so have some idea of the best course of action.
As he walked towards the hut, holding himself upright and proud, he thought of Mathias Hanrahan.
He
had put the Project first and so must Sukui.
He opened the door and there were no troops, no Gromyko.
Lui Tsang, his back to Sukui, was talking to the trifax of Decker. Sun-Ray Sidhu was taping a bundle of wires together.
Sanjit Borodin, observed glumly by Helena Lubycz, was sweeping a fistful of playing cards off a small table and hissing at Mags Sender, who was counting out a pile of coins.
'I warned you not to teach people the cards,' said Sukui, nodding at Borodin. 'They will only take your money.' He smiled at Mags and Helena, and then at Lui and Sun-Ray. He was out of range of the trifax.
He stepped further into the hut, feeling strangely calm. He knew that soon everything would change. He did not know
what
would happen, but the probability was almost unity that something major would occur.
Decker grinned his infectious grin and said, 'Hi, Kasimir. I can see you now.'
Sukui nodded to the camera. Then he said, 'Colleagues, we have little time. I am afraid I committed a tactical error in being seen in the presence of Siggy Axelmeyer. I have displeased the Prime.' The team looked blank. Sukui knew that it was not his normal manner to be this open with his juniors. 'The trend was there, however. I do not think I have accelerated it by more than a day, two at most,' he continued. 'Whatever should happen to us as individuals, we must remember the Project. The most important thing is that we retain our link with Decker and his friends in orbit. Lui, how is progress with the mobile unit? Could we vacate this hut at short notice and retain the link?'
Lui waved a hand at the items on a nearby workbench. 'We've got the rudiments,' he said. 'Decker's been telling me what to do. There's supplies everywhere once you know what you're looking for. But I need more time.' He shrugged. 'Six hours, maybe a day. I was planning on working through tonight at any rate. If Sunny or Mags stay then things might be quicker. Can you hold them off?'
Lui did not need to say who he meant by 'them'. In the space of an hour the Prime had become the Project's principal enemy, and it was all because of Sukui's mistakes.
'I will do what is possible,' said Sukui. 'Decker, how are things developing in orbit?'
'People believe you're down there,' said Decker. 'Lui and Sun-Ray have been here in holo. They've started to convince people. There's a pressure building up, though. There's a lot of people who want to meet the only remaining Expatrian descendants of Ha'an. That's become more important out here than the ship from GenGen. All they want is Mathias and Edward.'
Sukui thought for a moment. 'Decker, it would be best if you were to regard Mathias as unavailable. Permanently. He is on trial for murder. Execution is the penalty and a fair trial is hardly possible, given the cir—'
Sukui noticed that the door of the hut was open. He was sure he had closed it.
A man stepped inside. He was tall and thin and he was wearing military leathers. Two more stood behind him, and it was apparent that others were assembled outside.
The trooper squinted at Sukui's face and nodded to himself. 'Kasimir Sukui,' he said. 'You're arrested. Come on.' He grabbed Sukui's arm and tugged him roughly to the doorway.
'Hey,' said Decker, looking around, but clearly not able to see what was happening. 'What's going on?'
'You'd better get that geek under control,' said the trooper, nodding at Decker and talking to the rest of the team. 'Or he comes too. OK?'
'Decker,' said Sukui, brushing his sleeve where he had been held. 'I am under arrest. Control yourself. Lui will take over.'
'You should be moving!' barked the trooper. 'Or d'you want us to burn your hut, as well? Hey, guys, you got any matches?' He laughed and pushed Sukui from the hut.
~
'I don't
enjoy
being like this,' said Prime Salvo Andric. 'It's not in my nature. But you've been irresponsible, Kasimir. What else can I do?'
Kasimir Sukui gazed into the Prime's face. All kinds of strange emotions were rushing through his head—fear, confusion, pain—but he ignored them. All his doubts of the past few weeks were nothing to him now. He was controlled, he was rational. He was a scientist. 'You are Prime,' he said, his face aching. 'You must follow your judgement.' He bowed his head.
They were in a small room, somewhere in the security block of the Capitol. The windows were wide and glazed, with curtains and external shutters. The door was of lightweight wood and appeared to be without a locking mechanism. It was more of an office than a cell.
Sukui was strapped to the wall, naked and cold. His arms were bound above his head and tied to a hook in the wall. His legs were bound at the ankle, wide apart, so that he hung forward, supported by his wrists and the strap across his chest. He had been in that position since shortly after arriving at the Capitol some time before. Sukui had a disciplined time-sense but now it told him he had been there for only around forty minutes and that could not possibly be correct; it felt closer to half a day. His face hurt from where one of the troopers had cuffed him for losing balance as they bound him. He wanted to ask for a drink of water but that was one of the thoughts he suppressed.
'Tell me, Kasimir. What were you doing at Canebrake House?' The Prime shrugged and raised his hands. 'I don't like this, Kasimir. But you have to talk. You're lucky I'm here—the boys wouldn't be so restrained if I was gone.'
Sukui could read all the signs on Salvo Andric's face, he could interpret the subtext of his words. Whatever he did now, his place with the Prime—and almost certainly his life—was forfeit. Salvo Andric had finally lost his sense of equilibrium; unguided, he would destroy himself and all around him.
Much as he abhorred the thought, Sukui recognised that the future of the Project was now safest in the hands of Siggy Axelmeyer. He resisted the wave of hatred that came over him at the memory of Axelmeyer. It was the only way.
He steeled himself, renewed his self-control. He was a rational man, a scientist. He must take what was to come and, in so doing, preserve the Project. The pursuit of knowledge would outlast these petty disputes, these meaningless lives. Including his own.
He knew the end was near. He was strong. He would accept what was about to happen.
Kasimir Sukui smiled and he saw Prime Salvo look at him in disbelief. 'You are Prime,' he repeated. 'You must use your judgement.' He bowed his head, but his body remained proud, supporting itself against its bonds.
Salvo Andric left the room.
Some time later there was a sound from the doorway and Sukui looked up. Two men had entered the room, one carrying a big wooden case which he placed on a chair and carefully opened.
Implements of torture gleamed in the candle-light. There were scalpels, tongs, thumb-screws, clamps, rasps, files. The tallest of the two men drew a pair of needle-point tongs from the case and held them over a candle's flame. 'Stops infection,' he said to his colleague. It appeared to be an old joke between them.
Sukui was a scientist. He steeled his quivering nerves, monitored his breathing, his heartbeat.
By his internal clock, it was twenty minutes before he first begged for mercy. He would never have believed a person could bleed so much and still be alive. Three minutes later, he said, 'Please, call the Prime. I can... help him... I have something to tell him. Someone he should... meet. Please.'
The Project could look after itself—Sukui
hurt
.
Chapter 19
It was well into the night before Mathias Hanrahan saw the bulking landmass that marked the cliffs around Newest Delhi. He remembered seeing Alabama for the first time, the city a smear of amber light picking out the horizon against the star-speckled void; the image had lodged itself firmly in his memory.
There was a faint glow to Newest Delhi—candle-light and public street fires—but it was the outline of the cliffs that Mathias recognised. He had seen this view many times from a fishing boat but now it seemed strange, somehow, out of place.
He had never expected to see these cliffs again.
Sitting in the prow of the barge, militia guards nearby, he wondered if it was all worth it. He had no illusions about the 'trial' that Edward had promised: he was going to be executed. He tapped out a rhythm on his leg and thought back to days spent playing the blues with the Monotones. He felt for Mono's opal pendant around his neck. Life could be so easy.
The barge was painted brightly in regal golds and blues. Its sails were cut from the finest canvas and banded with matching colours. Early in the voyage, Mathias had learnt why he had not simply been locked in one of its holds: they were crammed with goods from Alabama City. Linens, leatherwear and woodwork of the highest quality; nothing that too obviously incorporated the forbidden practices, although most items had been made with technological assistance. Mathias had smiled at that.
The fundamentalist influence was clearly strong in Newest Delhi, but ignorance was also firmly in place.
He sat and watched the waves lapping gently, picked out by the light of Expatria's moons and the lanterns on the other two barges. Edward's barge was even more extravagantly decorated than Mathias's. The banded sails bore a simple image of a huge sceptre while a variety of flags and pennants decorated the rigging. The Primal barge was well lit and sounds of laughter bounced across Liffey Bay to taunt Mathias. Edward was celebrating the success of his trip. The third barge of the convoy was tied up on the far side of Edward's and a host of smaller vessels were tied to the two.
One of the guards brought Mathias a cup of coffee and then left him to his solitude. It tasted bitter, unsweetened. At least it was warm. Mathias drank it in a single gulp and tossed the cup aside. He wondered what his guards had done to be the only ones not invited to the party. Maybe they were just unlucky.
He straightened his legs, rubbed them, trying to renew the circulation. He had to coax himself into a better frame of mind—the least he could do was be positive. But it was no good. Why think like that when you're almost dead?
He noticed a change in the sound of the waves as they lapped at the barge's hull but thought nothing of it. They had probably hit a drift of weed, it was nothing unusual for Liffey Bay.
It was the clunk of wood against wood that made him realise something was happening. It came from the blind side of the barge, the side sheltered from the view of the rest of the convoy.
Mathias's heart started to pound, but he made himself stay where he was. It would only be a row-boat from one of the other barges, probably drunken bureaucrats unaware of what they were doing.
A hand appeared over the side of the barge, then another. 'Are you gonna give me some help or d'you want me to just go away?' A head appeared, rope gripped between grinning teeth, and then a leg swung over and into the barge.
It was Idi Mondata.
He hadn't changed. He could never change, he was that kind of person.
Mathias sat and watched his old friend pull the rope taut and loop it around a bulk-pin. He thought his own grin must be even wider than Idi's. He couldn't move. All he could do was sit and watch. 'I've been waiting,' he said. 'You're getting slow.' Finally something shifted inside him and he clambered to his feet and embraced Idi. 'Idi,' he said. 'Idi, you don't know how good it is to see you.'
Idi pulled away, gesturing at Mathias to keep his voice down. 'D'you want me to go over to Olfarssen's boat and tell him I'm here? Or shall we keep it a private party for now?'
Mathias looked around, reminded of his circumstances. 'Sorry,' he said. 'I suppose I'm not all here at the moment. I forgot myself. You're looking well, Idi. What about the guards?'
'Oh, don't you worry 'bout Jerzy and Jilly. They're screwing in the back hold and anyway they're OK—they know I'm here and they say they'd rather fuck. And anyway'—he grinned so that his teeth shone in the darkness—'this is a Mondata boat. It's only leased out. I got a right to be here, though Olfarssen might not like it if he knew. I tell you one thing for free.' He scratched at a nearby bulkhead. 'They can strip this damned paint before they get their put-down back.'
'Idi,' said Mathias. 'Will you tell me what's happened in Newest Delhi? How's Greta? How strong is Olfarssen's grip?'
'Greta's a difficult one,' said Idi. 'You going away was the final twist—she really believes you killed your father. I guess her heart is bust, or however they say. You won't get any sympathy from her—she won't influence Olfarssen, if that's what you're hoping.' Idi shook his head. 'All Greta is is a way for the Conventists to get at the Prime, climb their way back up. That's what she uses her influence for. Olfarssen's crazy—I don't know how to put this, Matt. Greta's gone off men. Word is she hasn't let Olfarssen touch her since their wedding night. I guess once was enough.' He smiled uncomfortably. 'And Olfarssen is crazy about her—she can use him however she wants and at the same time it's the Conventists that use her to get to
him
. The whole set-up is mad. You won't get anything through Greta.'
Mathias accepted all this numbly. He had hoped that Greta might be a calming influence on Edward. 'The Conventists are strong then?' Talk would occupy his mind, stop him dwelling on what he had just heard.
'Shit, they're all strong. Conventists, Death Krishnas, Jesus-Buddhists, Black-Handers, Masons. Olfarssen is weak. I don't know how he's held on for so long. You've got to do something, Matt. The whole place is falling apart.'
Mathias knew why Idi had come out to meet him on the barge. He was going to suggest they lock the back hold and float away into the night.
But the thought had to be resisted.
Why escape when he'd come this far? He would gain nothing. Edward would automatically blame the Andricci, even though it would be obvious that they had done nothing. It would be a cue for greater hostilities, maybe full-scale warfare. The Project would be destroyed. The Project, itself, didn't matter—the quest for knowledge would always re-awaken—but what
did
matter was that communications with Decker and the Orbitals would be lost. The terran ship would arrive unannounced. The consequences were unforeseeable; all Mathias knew was that if anyone suffered it would be the people of Expatria.
'Idi,' he said. 'Let me tell you why I'm here.' Idi had been about to speak but he closed his mouth and listened. Mathias told him of Decker, he told him of the approaching terran ship and the broadcasts by the Holy Corporation of GenGen. After a while Idi stopped shaking his head in disbelief and his shaded face grew serious. 'I can't do anything that Olfarssen could blame on Alabama City,' finished Mathias. 'That would make everything go to waste.'
There was a moment of silence.
'I was going to shut Jerzy and Jilly in the hold and—'
'I know.' Mathias grinned. It was good to be with Idi again, even in the present circumstances.
'You want to die, that's your choice,' said Idi. 'But I don't like the idea that the only people who know about your Orbitals are in the south. Matt,'—he leaned closer—'I guess it's time we set about evening up that imbalance. There's people would like to hear what you've just told me.'
'Idi,' said Mathias. 'I'll do anything that will spread the knowledge. I'll do anything that will fuck Edward's plans. But, Idi, I don't want to do anything that can be blamed on Alabama City. Do you hear?'
Idi grinned. 'I'm hearing,' he said. 'Got to go. I've things to sort.' He stood and swung himself over the side of the barge and down into his row-boat. 'Be ready, Matt. I guess I won't be able to give you much advance notice.' Then he began to row and Mathias sat back against the blue and gold bulkhead. Seeing Idi again had left him with misgivings. He hoped his old friend was not as impetuous as he had once been. Things had to be kept under control.
~
Mathias didn't bother to count the days they kept him in their various prisons. The barges stayed had out in Liffey Bay for the entire night and, from the sounds, it appeared that Edward's party was going strong enough to continue into the next night too. But in the morning the sails had been unfurled and the barges had drifted slowly into Newest Delhi harbour.
Mathias's barge was the last to dock and by the time he set foot in the city of his birth the Primal party had been swept away in a convoy of horse-drawn carriages. He couldn't see much of the docks through the gaggle of guards that surrounded him and hustled him at a quick march through the lock-ups and boat-houses. But then they spread out on the steps of West Wall and Mathias was able to survey the scene.
He did not know what to expect, but it was not this. Nothing had changed. The docks were alive with the returning fishing fleet, ice-trays filling every spare space, crates of fish being thrown up from the newly moored boats.
From the top of the wall Mathias could see into Newest Delhi itself.
He paused to look out over the canopied market-stalls, then a guard prodded him with a bully-stick and said, 'No sightseeing.' Mathias bowed his head, smiling graciously, and continued on his way.
The market had changed, but only to a small degree. It looked the same but the sounds had been transformed. Wailing mommas cried out for the mercy of Jesus-Buddha, or maybe just a few bucks for a holy statuette; Conventists mumbled and chanted from beneath a swathe of white canopies, sounding like a swarm of meth engines on idle; Death Krishnas sang 'Hari-Hari, Hari-Hari' and danced and swallowed swords and fire and wine. Drugged Nano-Hippies drifted to no pattern. From the sound alone, it appeared that the market had been overrun by the battling cults and sects, but in his brief look Mathias had seen the traders and he had smelt their spices on the air. They were crammed into less space than before, but still they persisted.
The guards led him north along West Wall, past a line of scaffolds, their nooses dangling loosely, stirring in the occasional breeze. There had been no hangings in March Hanrahan's day. Descending into Newest Delhi, they passed through the winding city streets to the Manse.
Handed over to the Primal Guard, Mathias was put in a cell, deep in the Guard rooms that were set behind the bulk of the Manse. The following day he was transferred to a cell in a militia post on the northern side of Newest Delhi. From his window he could see Gorra Point and, in the early morning light, he thought that perhaps he could see the Pinnacles.
On the third day he was transferred to more permanent accommodation in the guest wing of the Manse. The windows had been reinforced especially for him and the door had two new locks, top and bottom. The room was compact and smelt musty and damp.
They brought him food; they led him to the washroom that he shared with scuttling, masked servants; guards always answered when he called but rarely did as he asked. They would not let him walk in the gardens that he could see, so close, through his window. They would bring him no books to read and none to write in. 'Books?' the guard had said. 'Haven't seen one since... Well, since I seen one. The Conventists have been burning them, you know. Books, that is. Along with the Masons. There was a time when they was burning
mad
. Conventists, Masons, Jay-Buddhists—they all had something they wanted to burn. Me, I just left 'em to it. The Guard wasn't allowed to interfere, you see.'
The guard brought some playing cards, next time he was on duty. It passed the time, but Mathias won too often and the guard soon lost interest. After that, Mathias constructed pyramids and houses from the cards.
A number of days later—Mathias didn't count—the door opened and Sala Pedralis walked in.
As she closed the door, Mathias saw the guard beyond her, standing upright and staring at the wall ahead of him. It was as if he had not seen her, but then he glanced nervously along the corridor, betraying himself. Mathias looked up at his old mentor. It all seemed rather familiar.
She looked much older than he remembered, her hair lank and streaked with grey, her skin pale and lifeless. Her movements were sharp and unsteady, her eyes darting to the corners of the room. Time had taken its toll on her; life under Edward Olfarssen-Hanrahan had clearly been an ordeal.
'Sala,' he said. 'I'd hoped you might have been in the delegation to Alabama City. I looked for you, I had things to tell you.' Sala was the person to inform about Decker's news; she would be a counterbalance to Idi Mondata. Mathias could die peacefully if he knew Sala was in control.
'Cut the small talk, OK?' Her voice was rough and strained. 'I have to tell you that I've been a fool, Mathias, and now I'm suffering for it. I helped you get out of this city once before and
if it kills me
I'm going to—'
The door swung open and Sala stopped. Her jaw sagged as she saw, first, who was entering the room.
It was Edward.
Wrapped in Primal robes that had been the favourite of Mathias's father, he was grinning broadly. 'Take her.' He gestured at Sala and two guards swept in and seized her arms. 'Miz Pedralis. Until now you have been the model of diplomacy. I have been waiting for your mistake and now you have confessed. Your trial will follow that of my half-brother. It is treason to aid the escape of a suspect of the Prime's murder; the penalty is death by suspension.' He nodded sharply and Sala was led away. 'A woman of such qualities,' he said, shaking his head. 'Yet it does not occur to her that she will be under observation at a time like this.' He straightened himself and turned to face Mathias. For a long time they were silent, each studying the other's features. Then Edward looked away. 'Your hearing has been put back until the end of the week,' he said. 'Administrative matters.'