Liberation (I Am Margaret Book 3) (13 page)

BOOK: Liberation (I Am Margaret Book 3)
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Bane’s discouraged expression lightened slightly.

“That’s good timing.” The post only arrived once a week. “Fingers crossed there’s something useful in that. Well, I think we may as well wrap this up. Keep thinking, everyone.”

“And praying,” I said glumly.
Is it over almost before we’ve started, Lord? What are we missing?

 

Beep, beep, beep
...

My alarm. Morning...

I forced myself to sit up at once, make my fertility checks and open my chart book to enter the results. Trying to be strict with myself and get into a proper routine. I’d kept my charts – slightly erratically – ever since I’d reached a certain age and Mum taught me how. A small, silent defiance of the EuroGov and the preservation of a valuable skill, all at once.

It’d sometimes seemed more than a little pointless, but now with my implant gone, and marriage on the horizon – Yey! Yey! Yey! – I was so glad I’d persevered.

Results noted, I flicked through the previous pages of the book. During our long journey I’d not even noticed when my monthlies stopped coming. More a blessing than anything at the time – but thankfully Doctor Frederick assured me that rest and regular meals would put things to rights in due course, nothing to worry about.

Due course hadn’t
really
arrived yet but a cycle of some kind
was
now becoming visible on my charts, so just to be on the safe side, I pencilled in a prediction of the next month. See which days might be good days for a wedding (Yey!). After all, if the next mission was indefinitely delayed...

A knock at the door.

“Margo?”

Bane. I stuffed the book under my sheet – then pulled it out again. He knew about this from seeing my mum’s book when he was little, surely – but perhaps I should make sure.

“Come in.”

He breezed in, dressed already, and plonked himself on the bed. Didn’t try to kiss me. After an unfortunate incident when I’d ended up sprinting from his room with a ravenous demon of lust chomping at my heels, I’d instigated a no-kissing-while-in-nightwear rule. He’d taken it with a good grace. Perhaps he’d also noticed the silver lining to the delay...

‘Don’t get me wrong, Margo,’ he’d said wryly, ‘I think you’re the sexiest thing on two legs, but when you remember our first time I want it to be with joy not guilt, and for
that
I am prepared to wait. Well, that’s the theory. We perhaps better had stop putting it to the test!’

“What are you up to?” he asked now, glancing at the book open in front of me.

“Just filling in my chart,” I said casually, trying not to blush.

“Chart?” He twisted his head to get a better look and stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“Fertility chart.”

“Fert... oh.” He frowned at it. “Your mum had one of those.”

“Yeah. Didn’t really matter for her, of course, she was stuck with the implant. But this is going to be quite important for us.”

“It is?”

“Unless you want say, fifteen kids in as many years and probably no wife at the end of it, hmm?”

He blinked.

“Uh... I s’pose I’ve been thinking more like... four or five over maybe... ten years and
definitely
a wife at the end of it! Um... what do you think?” He touched my hand rather anxiously.

“Sounds good to me. And this is how we achieve that,” I tapped the chart.

“Okay, tell me.”

“Um... well, there are three different checks and when you put the results together it says about ninety-seven percent accurately whether I’m fertile or infertile on that particular day.”

He stared at the chart some more, thinking this through.

“So if we’re not ready for another kid... we have to not...
you know
. On a fertile day.”

“That’s the idea. Obviously it’s not ninety-seven percent if we don’t stick to what it says!”

He shot me a sidelong look.

“I don’t know, I may be going to miss that implant more than I thought!”

“Oh come on, if we can wait months to be married – and belong completely to each other – we can wait a few days out of every month for the sake of belonging completely to each other.”

Bane scratched his chin and frowned.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for belonging completely to each other, but... couldn’t we belong to each other completely with the implant in... or something?”

“No,” I said firmly. “I mean, if we still lived in the EuroGov we’d have to make do, but we
don’t
. We don’t need to withhold any part of ourselves – including our fertility – from the other by artificially blocking a child.”

“But you’re still talking about...”

“Yes, we can use my
natural cycle
to space our children responsibly, but we don’t need to lie to each other with our bodies – don’t need to say, I give you everything when actually, right then and there, we’re
not
. That’s what this is about: it’s about saying I love you so completely I will not keep anything back to put pleasure before our oneness. D’you see?”

Bane thought about this for a minute.

“It sounds kind of... beautiful when you put it like
that
. It’s sticking to it that bothers me. We haven’t exactly been finding this waiting easy!” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth – picturing me bounding out the door like a startled deer in a decidedly unchaste state of dishevelment?

I did not want to talk about that!

“Well, it may be five kids, then!”

He laughed.

“It might just be! Well, explain this chart thing to me.”

“Um, well, this line’s body temperature, that’s an important indicator. And the other two checks... um, look, I’ll tell you about them after we’re married, okay? I could even teach you how to perform them,” I added slyly.

He stared at the chart for a moment and clearly drew more from it than I’d intended because he gave me a burning look and said rather huskily, “I do believe, Miss Verrall, that you just invited me to do something
very
indecent to you.”

Shifting behind him to hide my scorching-hot cheeks, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and said softly in his ear, “But it won’t be indecent once we’re married, will it?”

“You’d better get off this bed quick, or I’m going to insist you teach me right now!”

I gave him a gentle slap on the arm.

“It’s
my
bed.
You
need to leave.”

“Yes, I really do! All this talk about making babies...”

He dragged himself off the bed and made a rather hurried exit.

 

Bane had... cooled off... by breakfast time, though he kept raising his eyebrows at me and muttering ‘Babies?’ at inopportune moments.

“I’m missing something,” said Jon, as I accidentally snorted coffee up my nose and started choking on my toast.

“Yep,” agreed Bane imperturbably, patting me on the back.

“I won’t ask, then.”

“Good decision. You okay, Margo?”

“Fine,” I gasped, prodding the coffee-sodden remains of my toast before scooping it into my mouth. Mustn’t waste food. “Okay, I’ve finished, let’s get over to the conference room.”

I was intercepted in the hall by a layman juggling an armful of post.

“Miss Verrall? Package for you.”

“A
what
?”


Package
. A small parcel. Here...”

For me? Who on earth? My heart leapt in sudden, painful hope. My parents?

I reached for the large, fat white envelope, but Bane got there first.

“What if it’s a bomb!” He looked like he was about to chuck it out the nearest window just on the off chance.

“What?” Father Mark had left the dining room just behind us. He pretty much snatched it from Bane, felt it, flexed it, sniffed it, put it to his ear and shook it gently, then handed it to me.

“It’s a book.”

“Oh,” said Bane.

The layman – George, wasn’t it? – was rolling his eyes.

“If you’ll all stop panicking long enough to let me get a word in, Eduardo’s lot have examined it already, opened it and everything. It’s perfectly safe.”

“They shouldn’t have opened it!” I said. “What if it
was
dangerous?”

Father Mark’s turn to roll his eyes.

“It’s their job, Margo.”

“To get blown up instead of me?”

“Yes, actually.”

I frowned. Never really thought about it quite like that before. S’pose no one forced them to do it.

“Oh, well, um, thank you... George, right?”

“You’re welcome.” He hurried into the dining room with his load.

I peeled up the already opened envelope flap and pulled out... a slightly smaller package and another, empty, folded envelope. I pried open this second package and tipped the contents out. Father Mark was right, a book. A very large format hardback, no dustcover, corners bent and scuffed and a title in an extremely utilitarian font stamped into the plain cover, illegible with age. I tipped up the envelope and shook it, but there was no letter.

What on earth...? Why would my parents...?

What
was
it? I opened it up and flicked to the title page. More hideously utilitarian type.

 

EGD Security

MANUAL OF SECURITY PROCEDURES

(STANDARD FACILITY)

– to be followed by all Commandants

 

This manual:

- is the property of the Facility Commandant.

- is not to leave the Commandant’s possession.

 

TOP SECRET

Any member of EGD Security or the General Public who gains possession of this manual/knowledge of the contents of this manual is bound to secrecy under article 64 of the EuroBloc Secrets Act.

 

Transgression will result in a charge of:

Sedition: Category 1
.

 

 

 

***+***

 

 

 

11

DÉJÀ VU

 

“I don’t believe it!” I turned to the contents page, my eyes darting over words like ‘guard towers’, ‘battlements’, ‘camera room’...

“What is it?” asked Bane.

I flicked back to the title page and shoved it under his nose.

“I don’t believe it!”

“For pity’s sake!” said Jon. “What is not to be believed?

Father Mark was peering over my shoulder.

“It’s a Facility Security Manual.”

“A
what
?”

I was rifling through the pages, checking it was what it proclaimed itself to be. Definitely... Or an excellent fake. There were notes scribbled on most pages, all in the same curly handwriting though in a whole range of pens and colours, some faded with age. Years of... I peered at one, deciphering it... years of sardonic comments... I read a couple more... mostly picking holes and generally expressing the author’s contempt for the procedures described.

Bane and Father Mark were also reading the scribbles. Bane finally began to read out loud for Jon’s benefit.


Naturally one places the septic tank of one’s home as far away as possible
– the page is a plan of features outside the Facility walls –
assume the PTB
– what? Oh, Powers-That-Be, probably –
assume the Powers-That-Be value their own lives rather little. Most people would think their life worth a swim in a cesspit. Large size pipe and opens from the inside H&S special
– Health and Safety special? –
lid, blithering idiots
. Huh?” Bane looked up, his face brightening. “Now, this
is
interesting stuff...”

“If it’s genuine.” Father Mark’s eyes were also racing over the entries and neat little comments.

“So you’re saying someone’s sent Margo a
Facility Security Manual
, complete with revealing notes?” Jon sounded incredulous. “Well, who’s it from, Margo?”

Good question. I shook the book and a little packet dropped out, but no note. Checked inside all the envelopes – nothing else. The packet just had a string of letters and numbers written on it – I opened it and tipped a few tiny brown things onto the palm of my hand.

“What are those?” asked Bane.

“Look like seeds,” said Father Mark.

“Who would send
you
seeds,” sniggered Bane.

Mum didn’t have a very high opinion of my gardening skills either – with good reason. Well, I’d already figured out this wasn’t from my parents. In my head I could hear a harsh voice saying, ‘Dead men tell no tales.’ And a soft voice replying, ‘
Oh
, I think you'll find they sometimes
do
.’

“Who, Margo?” asked Jon.

“I don’t know.” Not a lie. I didn’t
know
. But we were looking for a disillusioned Facility Commandant who thought the security procedures were useless and who might just be able to lay his hands on some seeds... so I really, really
suspected
. But I didn’t want to put Bane off using the information and anyway, it seemed so incredible.
Why
? How?

I straightened out the first envelope, the big white one, but it just said ‘Margaret Verrall, Citadel.’ The one the book had come out of was slightly more detailed, ‘Margaret Verrall, c/o The Underground, African Free States.’

“There’s no way
that
got through the EuroBloc postal system!” snorted Bane, reading it aloud.

I straightened out the final, empty envelope. Ah. “The Combined Embassy of the African Free States, Brussels, EuroBloc,” I read out. “Double envelope. Sent to the Embassy – they sent it on.”

The postmark on this outermost envelope was hard to make out, but it looked like the fourth of July. The day after we escaped from the Facility. Had he guessed, even then, that they would come for him? But why
this
, and to
me
? Simple revenge – he’d hoped I’d pass it on to someone who could make use of it? Or merely for the satisfaction of knowing he’d sent the most secret thing in his possession to the EuroGov’s most publically avowed enemy – it perhaps hadn’t occurred to him anyone would ever
use
it.

There’d been something in the trial, come to think, they’d accused him of destroying all his paperwork – one truth among all the lies? Hiding the fact the single most important document was missing?

“Are you sure you don’t know who it’s from, Margo?” Bane eyed me closely.

“No, I don’t know.” Come on, he could draw exactly the same conclusion as me. And did, by the look on his face.

“Well, let’s get to the conference room and look at this properly. Just the planning committee, for now. We want to keep it super quiet we’ve got this. Come on, Eagle.” That was Jon’s honorary code name.

Bane sent away most of Animal team, though he got Sister Krayj and Jack to stay. Eduardo was waiting as well – silently. Clearly wasn’t the done thing for him to comment on the contents of people’s packages – but his eyes were on the book in my hands.

Bane explained for the sake of Kyle, Pussycat and Alligator just what a mystery benefactor had sent me, trying to steer quickly past all the, ‘Who, who could it be?’ remarks.

“That’s not really very important. It’s much more important we figure out whether this stuff is reliable.” He tapped the cover with one finger.


Yeah
, but
who
sent it has got to be a good indicator of
that
, surely?” said Kyle.

Father Mark slid the book out from under Bane’s hand and began examining it again.

“These comments are years and years old, some of them. It’s not likely someone would spend literally years preparing a copy of a rare manual like this with fake annotations. I’d certainly be inclined to trust it. It might be an idea to avoid using the freshest ones, just in case.”

Bane made a ‘well, there we go’ gesture.

“So, is it useful?” demanded Sister Krayj.

“Yes,” said Bane. I could only shrug. I’d not got so far as thinking through the faults picked up in individual notes yet.

“Yes.” Father Mark was still poring over it. “But I’m already sensing these notes would mostly be far more helpful to someone trying to get out than to someone trying to get in. Getting in unnoticed remains the real challenge.”

“There is the septic tank.” Jon spoke in the happy tone of one who is in no danger from said tank.

“Yikes,” said Alligator.

“Even that’s not so good, from outside,” said Father Mark. “There’ll probably be grills or hatches inside the Facility which only unscrew or open from the inside – they’re not
completely
stupid. Yes, we could blow them open, but that makes noise inside the building with all the guards unsecured, so it’s not ideal.”

“And there’s still the damn cameras,” said Bane.

“Cameras...” Father Mark consulted the contents page and flicked to the right section, skimming the printed lines. “They’re a pain, all right. Well placed and with quite thorough coverage.” He tapped a finger to the margin. “Our mysterious benefactor even grants them that. Let’s see... if they’re manning the camera room at night, the corridor lights will be turned up a bit, it says, so the things can see...”

“What about the old Hollywood trick of taking a picture of the corridor and sticking it in front of the camera?” said Kyle.

“It’s a good one,” said Father Mark dryly. “
If
you’re inside the building already. How are you getting in with your camera?”

Kyle deflated.

“Oh.”

“Please don’t tell me we have this goldmine of information, and we still can’t get in,” said Pussycat.

“Come on,” I said. “We’ve hardly
begun
to study it yet.”

“Eduardo, can you get some copies made of this?” asked Bane, “The entire thing, one for each of us here? Well, not for Jon... Then we can get down and study it properly, we’ll all take it in turns to read the sections to our Eagle; he’s got one of the best minds here so we’re not wasting it. You can lock up all the copies in between sessions, and the original, too. This is absolutely top secret, okay, everyone? The moment they realise we’ve got this, they’ll revise the lot.”

“Clearly not something they do very often.” Father Mark eyed the old book with professional contempt, “but I reckon they’d make an exception!”

“So we tell
no one
,” said Bane firmly.

We pored over the copies all day, but after supper I found myself a shallow tray to fill with soil and planted six of the seeds, watered them and put them on the window sill.

So that was that. Wait and see what grew.

 

“Cameras,” said Father Mark the following morning. “That’s what I keep coming back to. I know I said about avoiding the freshest notes, but did anyone else notice that little one in the top right-hand corner of the first camera page?”

“What, ‘biggest strength, biggest weakness’?” I said.

“That’s the one.”

“Wasn’t sure what it was getting at,” said Kyle.

“I think it means the cameras are the most important part of the security system so if you take them out the whole system’s unworkable,” I said.

“Exactly,” said Father Mark. “So here’s a question for Eduardo. If we could get someone with a laptop close enough to the Facility walls, could they hack into the camera network and put the feed onto a loop?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed. “That’s precisely why we weren’t allowed laptops! Or the guards, even.”

Eduardo pursed his lips.

“Well, I think the people who wrote the rest of the manual didn’t actually understand the finer points of their camera software – because it’s really quite good. To put it in layman’s terms – anything outside of the few simple operations the camera programme is set up to perform will trip the alarms – such as any attempt to hack it.”

“So how do they update it?” Bane frowned. “I mean, they must update the software now and then, even if they don’t touch all the other procedures.”

“They do. There’s an eight digit code – the Facility Commandants know it so he or she can load the updates as they arrive and gain manual control of the camera system in an emergency. That code is the only way in I can see.”

“But you can hack the EuroGov’s ID database!” protested Bane. “Surely you can hack a simple camera system?”

“Apparently my layman’s terms weren’t simple enough.
Its very simplicity protects it
.”

Bane sighed.

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”

“That’s disappointing,” said Father Mark. “I should’ve spent my time studying the rest more closely. There’s no way we’re going to guess eight letters and numbers. Scrap that plan, then.”

“Well, I had an idea...” began Jon.

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “Say that again, Father Mark?”

“Which bit?”

“What did you just say about the code? Letters
and
numbers?”

“Yes, eight of them. Two letters, two numbers, one letter, two numbers, one letter.”

Why did that prickle at my mind so badly?

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth.

“I think... Just... one moment. Back in a tic...”

They watched in astonishment as I dashed out. I raced through the corridors, across the square, up the stairs to my room. Grabbed that little packet of seeds. Paused to shake the remaining seeds into a hanky for safe keeping, and rushed back down the stairs, across the square, and back through the corridors to the conference room.

Placed the empty packet in front of Father Mark and panted, “Eight digits like that?”

He snatched it up.

“Exactly like that!”

“Where did that come from?” asked Sister Krayj incredulously.

“It came with the book.”

“Oh. It really could be the code, then.”

“I rather think it is. Only... be worth checking it’s not the catalogue code for a type of plant or something. ‘Cause there were seeds in the packet and to be honest I’d assumed it was something to do with them.”

Father Mark chuckled.

“Oh yes, we must check that.”

“Who writes a camera code on a packet of seeds?” asked Sister Krayj.

“Our mysterious benefactor, apparently,” said Bane. “Anyway, this looks extremely promising.”

“If it’s not a trap,” said Eduardo.

“How likely would you say that was, with your knowledge of the software?”

Eduardo considered this for a few moments.

“Not very. To trick us right into the compound with a fake code would require a complete rewrite of the software. And they’ve not had time since our first raids to do that, let alone for the parcel to get through the Underground’s system to us here, even if they faked the outer envelope. It is of course possible it’s not the correct code – and entering it would set off the alarms.”

BOOK: Liberation (I Am Margaret Book 3)
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