The Arabesk Trilogy Omnibus (57 page)

“Well done,” said the Colonel. “Now break a line of squares off the chocolate for Sarah and eat another yourself, then put the rest back in the cool compartment along with the ampoules… You can have the Cokes,” he added as an afterthought.

CHAPTER 18

9th October

That Raf cried worried the cat not at all. Tears salty as
blood ran into his neat beard and trickled across his chin. The cat would happily have dined on the puddle of fresh vomit between Raf’s knees, but the tiny bats the man plucked out of the air were richer and warmer. And besides, they were
being offered,
the almost-kitten didn’t even have to steal or beg. All it had to do was kill and eat.

Leaving Raf to his own memories…

“T-cells down fifteen percent again.”

“Will he die?”

One could almost hear the shrug. Well, Raf could from where he sat in a window, staring out at the crooked tip of the Matterhorn. It was late spring and the lower meadow was alive with dog violet, speedwell and ladies smock. If he pushed his sight until his eyes hurt, he could just see a dark hawk frozen on the edge of the upper slopes, waiting to hit its prey.

“You know, sir,” said the first voice, “I’d really be tempted…”

“Would you?” The answering laugh was sour.

“Well, suppose…”

“Don’t suppose,” the second voice was suddenly cross. “Think instead. We can either carry over the costs or close the project and put the costs against this quarter’s bottom line. Which one do you suggest?”

The other person thought about that.

“Fit one of the new synthetics,” said the cross voice. “Ditto on the bone marrow.”

“Sir, we’re already over budget.”

The senior man sighed, heavily. “Take it off R&D. Slap a couple of new patent numbers on the chart. The usual…”

Twelve weeks followed in a blur of morphine until reality finally drip-fed its way into the analgesic fog and ruined the next three months of Raf’s life. The three months when Raf didn’t have to remind himself to eat or worry about whether or not he could get to sleep, because the snakes did that for him. They wove themselves under his skin and up his nose, into his throat and up his pee-pee. A fat one even came out of the side of his stomach.

One time when Raf grew bored exploring the walls inside his own head, he woke himself up to find a girl he didn’t recognize sitting on the end of the bed, crying.

“What’s wrong?”

She jumped and squeaked at the same time, and Raf smiled.

“You’re awake…” The girl sounded shocked. She checked the readout from a grey box sitting on a bedside cabinet. “It says you’re asleep.” Her words were to herself.

“Look at this,” said Raf and jerked the dancing line so that it peaked right off the screen, then he levelled it out until it looked like the flat bit at a valley bottom. “See, you just make it do what you want.”

The nurse looked at the small boy wired into the surgical slab. Her name was Anne Rigler and she was Scottish. The medical brokers were paying her less than nurses usually earned in Switzerland but much more than she could earn in Aberdeen now that the oil was gone.

“It’s a disgrace,” she said, sounding furious.

Raf stopped playing. “I’m sorry. Does it break the machine?”

“No, no…” Pink fingers folded over his own, swallowing them. Her grip was so tight that it hurt. “I don’t mean what you’re doing to their machine.” Anna’s voice had a sob in it. “This.” She jerked her chin towards the electronic bed, then round the small room. “All of this.”

“They’re mending me,” Raf explained patiently.

“Mending you?”

The boy nodded. “New kidneys,” he said, “improved breastbone and something to make my body mend faster when I get hurt. I don’t mind, it’s better than lessons.”

“Lessons?”

“I have to do lessons…”

She smiled. “I wasn’t mad about school either. Why don’t you like yours?”

“Boring,” said Raf. “
Boring, boring, boring
… No one ever says anything new. It’s just what’s already in the textbooks.”

“You can read?”

He looked at Anne as if she was mad. “Of course I can read,” he said. “I’m five.”

The nurse thought about that for a while. As she did so, she jotted notes on a chart and swung her foot, so her sole scuffed the floor with each swing. Wherever the thoughts went, they didn’t lead her anywhere she wanted to go.

“Do you like it here?”

Raf shrugged. “It’s okay. Better than the
Tigris
…”

Her look was a question.

“My mother’s ship. It smells dirty and I get sick. All that static…”

“She’s a sailor?”

“No,” Raf laughed. “She saves whales…”

She did too. And cut together award-winning films from hours of footage taken with a tiny camera taped to the side of her mask. The whales were killers and ate seals like Scooby snacks. Raf often wondered why she didn’t save the Scooby snacks instead.

CHAPTER 19

9th October

“Enough,” Raf told the cat, wiping vomit from his shoes
with a handkerchief taken from his jacket. Somehow a fresh one materialized in his top pocket every morning. Like eating lunch in the kitchen, it seemed ordinary tissues weren’t for people like him.

Raf shrugged and screwed the soiled linen into a ball, pushing it deep into a trouser pocket. He was alone on the roof, Avatar having agreed to take the dusty hire car only after Raf marched him to the front door.

Av had been too weak to go, even after Raf had put back the lights, wiped down the door handles and carefully explained exactly why he should. So, to save time, Raf had cheated, ramping the kid up on a foil twist of speedballs taken from the driver’s wallet.

“This will help you walk,” Raf told him. “You want that, don’t you?”

Avatar nodded, eyes huge.

“Yeah, figured.” Raf had dropped to a crouch beside Avatar’s soiled mattress, with the driver’s dropped lighter in one hand and the foil twist in his other. “Suck the smoke,” said Raf and put a flame to the foil.

Avatar gagged.

“Slowly.” Raf’s voice was soft, its tone soothing. He needed the boy out of the house and soon. Which bizarrely meant stopping Avatar from taking in too much smoke at once.

“Who are you?”

Raf stared at the boy, whose skin was as smooth as Italian leather in the overhead light. High cheekbones had become visible where there’d been adolescent softness only months before. The kid was Renaissance beautiful and part of that beauty was that Avatar didn’t yet know it. To make matters more complicated, Avatar had his sister’s eyes. Hurt and all.

Raf sighed. “I’m your boss, remember…”

“You fired me!”

“You kind of fired yourself.”

“Well.” Avatar’s smile was sad. “Maybe.” He rolled sideways off his mattress and stood unsteadily. Around him the cellar seemed to rock and then settle. “I could work for you again,” Avatar suggested.

“As of now, you do,” said Raf and turned the kid towards the door, watching him walk away, weak from hunger and dizzy with smoke.

“About Zara…” Avatar said over his shoulder.

“What about her?”

“She’s…” Avatar searched in vain for the accurate word. “Cool, I suppose.”

“So everyone keeps telling me.”

“She’s also in love with you.”

Raf sighed and tossed Avatar the car keys. Adding an inevitable clang to his collection of sounds.

CHAPTER 20

Sudan

Ka could see Sarah’s mouth open but her words were gone.
Tears ebonied her cheeks and snot ran from her nose. His one attempt to put an arm round her had seen Sarah push him so hard that he almost fell over a small cliff.

It was Zac, Ka realized, tiny and doll-like in the river amid silver flashes.

Leaving Sarah where she stood, Ka ran through the wadi until, halfway down, rock crumbled under his feet and for a few blessed seconds all Ka’s attention went on staying upright.

Then he was at the water’s edge and reality came flooding in. Half-smoked perch were pegged out on twigs over the fire pit; but the real stink came from the humans, who had all been dead for hours by the look of it. Those bruises dead people get were already present wherever flesh touched ground.

Their fire pit was sodden with urine and Zac’s ripped-open rucksack had been tossed on top of the cold embers. Everywhere had been searched and nothing found; because what the soldiers wanted still shaded Ka’s eyes from the sun.

Bec had two bullet holes, one in her stomach and another below a breast. One shoe was missing and her rifle empty. Saul had a bullet through his good shoulder and another in his leg. He’d been finished with a rifle butt to the temple. Zac was a head shot, close up and through the back of his skull. The kid had fallen where he knelt.

UN-issue, 90–2 ammo meant nothing. All sides took weapons where they could capture them, ammo too. As for Sarah’s felucca, a tossed grenade had reduced that to kindling, sending more dark-eyed perch to the surface.

“How did they get here?”

“Combat hovercraft, Thornycroft Mk 11, grade 5 stealth profile…”

Ka didn’t listen. He’d been talking to himself anyway and since there weren’t any track marks or, come to that, any tracks down which trucks could have come, he’d been on the point of working out that the enemy had used some kind of boat.

“We have to bury them.”

“No,” said Ka and held up one hand, as if that was enough to hold back her bubbling anger. “The Colonel says we can’t take that risk.”

Her answer was a glare.

“I want to,” said Ka. “They were my friends too.” Which wasn’t quite true. Saul was a bully and he’d never got to know Bec, but Ka knew the three of them had been together since Kordofan. And Zac… Zac had been Ka’s responsibility. “But what if the troops come back to make another search…?”

Sarah said nothing.

“They’ll know some of us are still alive and come looking with planes. What…?” said Ka, seeing Sarah’s face suddenly harden.

“You’re afraid.”

“Afraid? I’m scared shitless. You, me…it’s just a matter of time.”

“The will of God,” Sarah said.

“You believe that?”

She thought about it. “I used to, kind of still do. Maybe I just want…”

“Yeah.” Ka put his arm round her shoulders and this time she didn’t push him away…

In the back of the truck was a thermoflage net, fitted with a pocket at each corner that could be filled with stones or loaded with sand, for when the terrain was impossible to peg. As well as blanking out thermal signatures, the huge net stealthed radar. Or so the Colonel said and whatever that meant, it sounded good.

The smashed boat was far behind them and night had come in. Heat still radiated from the sand but the temperature of the air was in free fall, latent heat losing out to the sprinkling of cold stars overhead.

“We’d be better sleeping inside…” Ka made it almost a question.

“Front seat?”

“That’s still sticky. It should be the back.”

Sarah’s grunt was doubtful.

“It’s going to get colder,” warned Ka. Something experience had told Sarah already. Being out in the emptiness without a bag or fire was no joke and her survival blanket was back with the…

“Hey,” he reached out, “it’s okay.”

She cried when they lay side by side on folded matting in the back of the yellow Seraphim, hot tears for what she’d lost. Though crying made no real sense, because everything she’d ever had to lose, Sarah had long since thought gone. Except her life maybe, and she was finding that increasingly hard to care about.

And so Ka held her tight and muttered his desolate promises into her ear. That he would look after her and any soldiers who came after them were dead, that the war would stop once the river dried up…

And she let his words wash over her and by the time Ka stopped promising and climbed clumsily on top, she’d stopped crying. It was his tears that fell into her face and breasts as he moved slowly above her, his quiet sobs the last thing she heard before they both fell into sleep.

CHAPTER 21

10th October

“Present,” said Raf, tossing the scrawny animal at Hani
so that it landed claws out and stuck to her bare shoulder. “This one doesn’t need batteries.”

“Ouch.”
Grabbing the cat by the scruff of its neck, Hani yanked back its head and glared. The animal glared right back and five seconds into their staring contest it began to purr.

“The sound of nine lives,” said Raf.

Hani raised her dark eyebrows.

“Purring is a healing mechanism. 27–44Hz. That frequency helps bones mend and heals cuts. It works on humans too…”

Sunday morning, at a stone table in the madersa’s walled courtyard, the splash of the marble fountain Raf had paid to be mended cutting through the clatter of Donna working nearby in her huge kitchen. Breakfast was spread out in front of them, almost untouched.

Coffee for Raf, orange juice for Hani.

Having drunk her juice, Hani had swallowed a token mouthful of balila and been on the point of getting down when Raf beat her to it and went to get his apology. Which was what the almost-cat was. For asking Hani how she found Avatar… Right question, wrong way.

“For me?”

Raf nodded.

“What does it eat?”

“Well…” He considered her question. “Bats are its favourite… That’s a joke,” Raf added hastily, when Hani started to look worried. “Tell Donna to get it some meat.”

“What’s it called?”

Raf shrugged.

“Uncle Ashraf,” Hani’s voice was mock sweet. “If it’s a boy can he live in the haremlek?” Hani still had problems getting her head round the idea of anything male being allowed near the second floor of the madersa. Centuries of tradition were a hard mind-set to break.