Saga (24 page)

“I’ve got it.” Nathan was pleased with himself.

“Yeah, yeah.” Milan sat up while he worked it out. “MEDUSA. That’s 1354, 21191. Right?”

“Right,” responded Athena brightly. “Now all we need to do is align the map so that 1354, 21191 refers to someplace that suits us for the meeting. How about this launderette?”

“Sure.” It looked good and innocuous to me. Athena adjusted the map to fit.

“I’ll post that the meeting should be later today, at the same time as the first coordinate, and there we go.” Athena sent the post with relish. “Let the Dark Queen and her people tear their hair out over that. It’s open to the whole world to read it, but it won’t do them any good. Even if they tried to guess at the name, there are thousands of possibilities. Plus, they will hardly think to guess mythical creatures!”

A knock on the outside of the tank made everyone jump.

“Anyone home? It’s Michelotto.”

It was uncanny how he had got so close to us without being heard, even if we were distracted and our screens tuned to Athena’s rather than the external view. Milan climbed out of his open hatch, so the rest of us did the same.

There was something extremely odd about this old man. Not just the strange juxtaposition of a fashionable black suit on the body of a very wrinkled and frail-looking figure. It was something about the air surrounding him, which appeared opaque. In that respect, he was different from everyone else I’d ever met. Normally I am acutely aware of other people, their breathing, their eyes. Even unconsciously I have a feel for the body language of the people around me, and I can monitor their movements without following them with my eyes. But not Michelotto. If I didn’t pay close attention, he disappeared. The sensation was unpleasant and something of a strain.

Michelotto stood below us, smiling, until he saw Jay and Carter.

“More of you?”

“Yeah. The full gang,” Milan answered, a hint of defiance in his voice.

“I see.” Michelotto shrugged.

“So, do you know why the Anarcho-Punk Collective leaders might want to kill us?” I asked him.

“Do they? How do you know that?”

“Don’t you just hate people who answer a question with a question?” muttered Athena, loud enough that Michelotto could hear her. I smiled at her. She didn’t trust him, either.

“We were at their silent party to celebrate our win. They asked us upstairs and two of them were getting set to kill us when Ghost shot them.” Milan paused for effect, but Michelotto didn’t look in the slightest way surprised. “They asked about you first, by the way.”

“I see.” He nodded. “Then they were working for the Dark Queen.”

“And why does she want us dead?” I asked.

“She and I are engaged in a battle to the death. It is like a game of chess to her. She must believe that you are a piece of mine, so she wants to neutralize you. She might even have guessed who you are. I had rather hoped to surprise her, but she is very astute.”

“Who we are?” Athena took up the very phrase that had caused me to stiffen.

“Not you collectively. I mean her, Ghost.”

“And who am I?” My voice was soft, nervous.

“Does the name Thetis mean anything to you?” His eyes bore into mine.

“No.”

“Curious. You are telling the truth.”

“Who is Thetis?” In our last encounter I had kept quiet, but since Michelotto’s attention was on me, I no longer had anything to lose by not staying in the background, and, so it felt now, I might have a lot to gain from talking to Michelotto.

“Saga, our world, once had nearly two thousand people who had been reprogrammed with extraordinary abilities, the RAL. These RAL have fought each other for centuries until there are but two left, the Dark Queen and myself. Thetis was a RAL who disappeared about six years ago. I had my reasons for thinking that you might be her in disguise.”

“Reasons?” My voice was barely a whisper.

“The RAL can control their local environment to a far greater extent than a non-RAL. And only a RAL could have won that battle at the aircar race.”

Six years. My memories began six years ago. A coincidence? Surely not. I had been standing on the tank; now I sat down, cross-legged, and wondered. There must be some kind of connection; I did feel my abilities were special. Was I a RAL?

“Who is this old man?” Jay pushed himself into the conversation. He wouldn’t have liked being left out for so long.

“I am Michelotto, former assassin of the Dark Queen, future Dark King of this world, and noisy, rude boys do not impress me.”

I rather liked the scary effect of Michelotto’s words, but Jay was one of our gang, for all his faults, and there was a paternal-istic arrogance to those words that was an insult to us all. Jay had his mouth half-open with a retort but thought better of it.

“Dark King, huh?” Milan was smiling, but the kind of humorless grin he put on when in conflict with other lads.

“Yes. That or death. There is no longer room for both the Queen and me in this world, and, if I win, I may as well be king.”

Up on the tank, we shared a few uncertain glances. It was Nathan who spoke for us all. “So, what do you want from us?”

“I want her help to assassinate the Dark Queen.” Michelotto pointed at me, causing my heart to leap with the intensity of his stare. “The rest of you would almost certainly die if you were in the same proximity as the Dark Queen, and I therefore want nothing from you.”

“Hey!” Carter was outraged. “You can’t talk like that; she’s our Queen. She’s awesome. No one wants you for king.”

“Don’t they?” Michelotto scowled at him. “Have you been watching the newscasts?”

“Sure. And I didn’t see any marchers with placards saying SOME BALD OLD GEEZER FOR KING!” Carter was genuinely angry, and I was impressed. Personally I found Michelotto too intimidating even to consider raising my voice in that way. Perhaps I was the only one aware of the strange aura around him, which revealed his power over the environment. To the others, he might have seemed nothing more than a rather doddery old man.

“Those guilds on the streets are my people. The Queen entered her castle. I’m forcing her out. She cannot remain on the defensive now; if she does, the protests will grow. It’s her move next, but whatever move she makes will give Ghost and me our chance.”

Jay shook his head. “This guy is the sprinklings on the birthday cake; he’s raving.”

The factory shuddered and a crow leaped out of the shadows, cawing and beating an erratic path to a hole in the roof; Michelotto had visibly made an effort to contain himself, limiting his response to a sigh. He appealed to me. “I would have thought it would suit you to be rid of the Dark Queen. After all, did you not say that she had the APC try to kill you?”

“Just suppose the Dark Queen were dead, and you were king.” Nathan was soft-spoken as always, but his tone was firm. “What else would change? Your guilds are calling for the abolition of the red and orange grades. Would you do that?”

“Why not?”

“Another question for a question,” pointed out Athena.

“My apologies. Let me speak more positively. There are other systems by which the productive needs of our society could be organized; whilst I personally have no particular preference, I can understand that those currently graded red would welcome a fairer distribution of the goods and services of the world. As king, I would indeed improve the situation of reds and oranges, possibly by abolishing their grades, or by making the higher-grade malls, accommodations, recreation, and health care available to them.” He shrugged. “It amounts to the same thing.”

With a dismissive, challenging, posture, Jay stepped forward. “But who would do all the work?”

“Considering that people with red cards are working hard for very little now, what makes you think they would not work just as hard for a much greater reward? That is, assuming people have to work at all. In the long run, our resources might be provided by outside assistance.”

“By Cindella and the human beings?” Nathan sought clarification of his meaning.

“Yes. Although, having talked to many of them, I think that the Dark Queen is mistaken in believing that they can make improvements to our world. They have regressed in comparison to the technology they left behind on Earth. Moreover, tampering with any one aspect of our world is liable to have unforeseen and destabilizing consequences upon the whole. Saga has evolved far, far beyond the initial conditions of its creation. That is yet another reason to want the Dark Queen removed. She is somewhat insane, and her desire for her and her offspring to be gods and goddesses is almost certain to strain the fundamental physical laws of our universe.”

“I’ll help you to kill the Dark Queen.” There was no doubt in my mind. I’d never met her, but I wanted the Dark Queen to die. Not because I trusted Michelotto to make life better for reds, or because I was troubled by whatever the Dark Queen was up to with regard to changing the world from the outside. It was simple. She had tried to kill my friends, and she would go on trying until we killed her.

“We’ll all help,” added Athena.

“Will we?” Carter was amazed. “She’s not so bad, you know. I found her to be very fair.”

“Young man, I was there when you spoke to the Dark Queen. I stood behind you with my garrote in hand, ready to kill you as soon as she was done with you. The only reason she let you live was to have you followed because she thought you might be connected to the human being who was troubling her, Cindella.”

“I . . .” Carter fell silent.

“Kill the Dark Queen?” Jay spoke as if he were trying out the phrase, shocked that his mouth could form the words. “Why are you all even listening to this mad, crinkled mudgrubber? See, there’s living on the edge, and then there’s stepping out, way, way, way beyond the edge. Step out there, and you’re gone.”

“She will have to come out of her bunker soon. Once she does, I’ll contact you on this.” Michelotto tossed me a two-way pager, ignoring Jay’s outburst. “And this will decode the message.” Having thrown me a device the size of a watch, he climbed onto his airbike. It rose from the ground with a near-inaudible hum.

When he was gone, the factory was still, with a silence that was devoid of all threat. We could relax. Or so I thought.

“Kill the Dark Queen,” Jay scoffed.

“No problem,” replied Milan, staring hard at Jay. “In any case, it’s our only chance. Wasn’t it you who just said we were going to be hunted down like rats?”

“You are, maybe. Not me. I’m out of here.”

“Running for Daddy?” Milan sneered.

That scored. Jay flushed and clenched his fists. Milan slid to the ground and stood poised, fit and strong, most of his weight on his back foot.

“Boys,” interjected Athena quickly. “This is too serious to fight over. We have to come to an intelligent decision, and that’s hard enough with you two around, let alone if you’re brawling all over the place.”

Both of them looked at her. Jay ran the fingers of one hand through his peroxide hair, unconsciously forming a line of spikes. I felt sorry for him. Here he was, all tats and combats, a good boarder, a singer in an anarcho-punk band, a mall raider, but it wasn’t enough. To cope with this situation, you had to be either smart enough to think it through, like Athena, or genuinely, organically punk enough to go all the way. You had to be able to contemplate killing the Dark Queen without feeling as if it was a hideous and impossible crime. That’s how Milan and I were. Nath was fine, too, although it was less easy to understand how he got his quiet determination. Carter and Jay, though, they were out of their depth by a very long way.

“Personally, I believe that Ghost and Michelotto can take the Dark Queen. So, it’s the way to go. Tonight has proven that it’s her or us.” Athena explained her position succinctly. “Ghost, what’s your view?”

“We have to kill her, and we can do it.”

“Milan?”

“Ditto.”

“Nathan?”

“I don’t want to kill her. I don’t trust Michelotto. We should also be thinking about Cindella and her people, what they want. But whatever we do, I’m sticking with Ghost.”

That was Nathan’s strength: loyalty. I caught his eye and mouthed, “Thanks.”

“Carter?”

“Of course not. It’s not possible, and it’s not right.”

“Jay?”

“No. If we could do it, maybe. But, with due respect to Ghost, her and that old man are not going to get close.”

“So, there we are. Three to two, four when you add in Nathan. Since the issue is so fundamental, I suggest we split.”

“Split?” asked Carter.

“Finally and irrevocably,” Athena added coldly.

Jay nodded. “Fair enough. It’s not as if you’ll be alive for much longer, I’m sorry to say. Not with these crazy ideas. The farther we get away from you, the better.”

“Carter, Jay, out of loyalty to our former gang, can I ask you one favor?” I was sad, and it was reflected in the softness of my voice.

“Sure, Ghost. What?” Now that the decision had been made, the anger drained from Jay, and he sounded genuinely considerate.

“Give us twenty-four hours to relocate before you contact anyone—anyone at all.” I tossed him an orange card. “That should do you for all your needs.”

“No problem. Right, Carter?”

Carter nodded and looked at me unhappily.

“Bye, guys.” Athena saluted.

Jay shrugged. “Come on, Carter.”

They kicked up their boards and headed out of the factory.

“Now what?” asked Milan.

“We’ve got that meeting with Cindella to go to,” Nathan pointed out. “Let’s do that and see what she has to say.”

As we boarded through quiet streets, I ran the name over and over in my mind. Thetis. Thetis. Thetis. Was that me? What was she like? Was she good? Loyal to her friends? A superb fighter? Or was she like Michelotto? Hideous and dark. In any case, no matter how much I wanted to feel a response, there was none. Whoever I was, I was not Thetis.