The Grasshopper's Child (32 page)

The entry was always a three figure number.
Tukhlogo myasa
, murmured Heidi to herself. Myasa meant meat. The other word was familiar too, but she'd have to check her dictionary.

She turned pages. The last “special shipment” had been on the day before the Wild Garlic picnic. The number in the fifth column was 293.

What kind of
meat
?

Heidi didn't know what to do. This was surely evidence but she couldn't take it away, it was too big. She'd never get it out of the house, codes or no codes. She couldn't take photos, because she hadn't brought that new phone, and she didn't possess a camera. Could she tear out pages? Would that still be evidence? The back of her neck prickled: she felt watched. She didn't want to, but she had to turn her head.

A box draped with black cloth stood on a shelf, in the open-fronted cabinet directly behind her. She went over, lifted the cloth: and shone her torch on a human skull. No, not quite a skull. A rotting head, a little larger than life size, with shreds and plaques of flesh, and draggled locks of dark hair still clinging to the bone—

The box was a glass display case. The head sat on a sleek black cushion of fur: made of two animals twined together, a small fluffy black cat and a dark weasely thing, the weasel with its teeth in the kitten's throat. Below the stuffed animals there was an inscription, picked out in white, bright jewels on a matt black base.

GREAT SATAN DIED FOR OUR SINS.

The gaping eye sockets stared at Heidi, the big teeth grinned white and hungry between ragged lips. Feeling hypnotised, feeling as if she was dreaming, she stared back: too terrified to look away. There was nothing in the world but the empty eyes that were pulling on her, dragging her down: and two strong hands fell on her shoulders, gripping tight.

She was turned around. The room was no longer dark. She was facing the tall woman who'd been sitting silently at the back of the room, when Heidi's Inspector interviewed the Exempt Teens after the shipwreck.

‘We've met before. It's Heidi, isn't it?' said this woman sternly. ‘Heidi Ryan?'

‘Yes—'

‘Terrific. What are all you kids doing here?'

Heidi wondered how long she'd been staring at the skull, and who had called the police? But she hardly cared that she'd been caught, she was just glad not to be alone with that thing.

‘It's an intervention. The others are trying to convince George and Sorrel to turn their mum and dad in, for being Recruiters. But I think, really they were covering for me. I'm looking for evidence.'

‘This is a highly sensitive operation,' said the woman. ‘You shouldn't be here. How did you—' Then she saw the skull. She gasped something, a name that she quickly swallowed, and changed it for an urgent, quavering but respectful: ‘
Ma'am? Over here
—!'

The police officer wore a protective vest over dark clothes. The other person was almost invisible in a body suit of close-fitting black from head to foot; like a ninja warrior. She'd been looking at Mr Carron's ledger. She crossed the floor, a lithe shadow puppet, took Heidi from the officer and removed her firmly, gently, from the cabinet and the skull.

‘Is it real?' whispered Heidi, staring through the mesh of a veiled eye-slot, deeply relieved that someone who was not scared seemed to be in charge. ‘Is it really
his head?
'

Great Satan
was the name the Sacrificers had given to a man called Rufus O'Niall, the dead leader of their cult in Europe: a name to terrify little children. Heidi knew a dead man couldn't harm her, but staring into that display box was like being attacked by fear-gas.

‘Nah,' said the Ninja. Her eyes were just a gleam. Her voice was weirdly familiar, as if she was someone Heidi knew well, but she'd momentarily forgotten. ‘The real one of those was destroyed by the NSA: what used to be US security services. That thing is just fan boy tat. Some criminal idiots like fooling around with Sacrificer insignia, it doesn't mean a thing. Trust me, Heidi, it's not the end of the world. Are you okay?'

Heidi nodded. The Ninja let go, and quickly tossed the black cloth over the box. ‘You feel disoriented because of what we did to break through Mr Carron's camouflage. Don't worry, it'll wear off soon.'

The police officer was inspecting the black ledger now, and shaking her head. ‘Sweet! We thank you kindly, George! Unbelievable arrogance—'

‘Invincibly protected by tech he should not have.'

‘Huh. Or the mistaken conviction that he's too big to fail.'

‘He could be right about that one,' said the ninja, grimly. ‘As I'm sure you understand.'

‘Believe me, ma'am, I have no desire to upset or distress the Emperor in any way. But where the hell does his illicit expertise come from, if that's all it is?'

They talked as if Heidi wasn't there, which scared her—

‘Who
are
you?'

The ninja woman said nothing. The officer looked startled.

‘Quite right, you should see my warrant card. Commissioner Barbara Holland, Crisis Special Ops.' She held out her card. Heidi saw the English Police logo and the officer's ID, but no Regional or Urban Force Badge. Just the Emperor's Gold Seal.

‘Tell me how you got into this room.'

‘The door. It was invisible, then it appeared, and it wasn't locked.'

‘It was masked. Now, Heidi, we need you to do exactly what you're told, do not repeat anything you may have heard, and tell nobody about what you've seen.'

‘Okay,' said Heidi, keeping her voice steady.

‘Stand by the door; somebody's coming to fetch you.'

She stood by the door. The two women, one solidly visible, the other hard to keep in view, talked softly as they carried on searching Mr Carron's secret study. Heidi got the feeling they were puzzled, or relieved; or both. The door opened. Two more figures wrapped in vanishing-trick black, including their faces, stepped in and grabbed Heidi by the arms.

26: Quadding By Moonlight

The Ninjas hustled her downstairs (not the Minstrel Gallery stairs, a different set) and handed her over to two ordinary police, who took her out into the glorified farmyard. There was quite a crowd: two separate groups of people, each surrounded by police in high-viz jackets. One group was the Exempt Teens. The other, larger group was mainly adults, some in nightclothes; plus a few young children. Heidi's escort told her not to talk to anyone, and dumped her next to Andy Mao.

‘What's going on?' she whispered.

‘It's a police raid! They suddenly walked in!
Loads
of them!'

‘Are we in trouble?'

‘Dunno. I don't think so. I think they're after Mr Carron!'

Too big to fail
, she thought, remembering what Clancy had said. ‘I hope you're right, but why are we all out here?'

‘Dunno! They got us, and the staff: got them out of bed too, and made everyone come out. Like a fire drill. I heard a copper say they're scanning the house with poisonous radiation, or something like that. But they tell you to shut up if you ask a question.'

A hi-viz jacketed cop told them to shut up.

Heidi looked for Challon in the crowd and gave her a thumbs-up, because she
had
found evidence: but didn't try to reach her. She didn't mind keeping quiet, she needed to think. Those Russian words haunted her. Some kind of meat? She repeated them in her head,
tukhlogo myasa
, and suddenly remembered. It was a joke. There was a saying from the Bible, or maybe the Qu'ran, she wasn't sure,
the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak
. If you auto-translated that into Russian it came out:
the vodka is good but the meat is rotten
.

Rotten Meat.

She concentrated on the crowd. George and Sorrel had a police guard of their own. One of the guards was holding the baby, in a bundle of blankets; not Sorrel. Selim wasn't crying. Either he'd managed to stay asleep, or he was too frightened. Police came and went. Once she thought she saw Barbara Holland, talking to a man who
might
have been Heidi's own Inspector, but she couldn't be sure. She didn't spot any Ninjas, but they could be all over the place. Those get-ups weren't fancy dress, they were digital cloaking. The Ninjas were cops whose presence wouldn't leave any trace on the video record of this raid—

‘Okay, everybody,' said a cop's voice, suddenly. ‘Your transport's here.'

‘What about us?' came Sorrel's voice, loud and scared.

‘I'm afraid you also have to leave Sorrel,' said the same cop. ‘There is some danger. But you'll soon be able to contact your parents.'

Someone touched Heidi's arm. It was Clancy.

‘
Watch
them,' he breathed. ‘And stay close.'

‘Watch who?'

‘George and Sorrel. You want to get to George Carron, don't you?'

The police started moving people towards the exit that led to the main drive. It wasn't hard to hang back and not be missed, as the two groups came jostling together. Heidi saw George and Sorrel duck out of the crowd and disappear. Clancy headed after them: she reluctantly followed. She caught up with him in the smaller barn, beside the big old Corn Barn.

The doors had been unlocked, but there was no sign of anyone but Clancy inside. Heidi shone her torch around, seeing only heaps of sacks; tarp-covered machinery, and an empty space where the vegetable boxes had been stacked, the day she'd met George in here.

‘Did you see them come in?'

‘Yes,' said Clancy. ‘And they didn't leave.'

‘Why didn't you tell me you'd made a big arrangement with the rest of the guys?'

‘It was Challon. I asked her would she give me her codes, right after the shipwreck. She told me all the reasons it wouldn't work. Then she came up with her intervention party idea; to give you cover. It seemed like you shouldn't know because—'

‘It was a Mehilhoc thing. But
you
could know? You were part of it? That's strange.'

‘To make it work you had to see Chall getting back with George, and react in a certain way; so he wouldn't suspect. I'm sorry, Heidi.'

Heidi blushed in the darkness, but she had a feeling she was being manipulated.

‘Why didn't you tell the police?'

‘Tell them what?'

‘If George and Sorrel know something, why are
we
chasing after them, and not the law?'

‘If you trust the police,' said Clancy, ‘Why are you here?'

‘To keep an eye on you. Where's the gun? The Coutance shooter? Where is it?'

‘Carron's friends are often armed. A visitor can carry a concealed weapon, and the security will take no action if no threat emerges.' He shone his own torch up into the roof space: the thin blue-white beam failed in darkness. ‘The police didn't take our devices, they just asked us not to call anyone. Some of the staff tried it anyway, and got nowhere, no signal: I saw the police taking note of who did that. I think Carron knows nothing about this raid. He's not getting any alerts from his hacked house. So George and Sorrel have run off to warn him in person.'

‘At the Solstice dinner dance?'

‘He's closer than that. I think I know exactly where he is. Maybe you do too, if you've put things together, but I just don't know how to get in—'

The wall between two mounds of tarp opened up, and George stepped out. Sorrel ran to the doors of the barn, bolted them and stood there staring, the inked patterns throbbing like a disease on her white, tearstained face.

George ambled up to Clancy, grinning. ‘I know who you are,' he said.

‘Do you?' said Clancy. ‘You're one up on me. I don't know who I am, or what I'm for.'

Without warning George hit out, a savage blow that knocked Clancy to the ground: kicked him over onto his belly and knelt on his back. He tugged the Coutance shooter from Clancy's waist, and stripped off the safety pouch.

‘That's better. Thanks for the steer, Cinderella. I knew somebody had to have this: it wasn't left on the beach. You want to meet my dad, mystery boy? Fine! I'll take you to him.'

‘I'm going to let Heidi go!' wailed Sorrel.

‘
No you don't!
' George stood up, breathing hard, and aimed the pistol at his sister. ‘Get away from the doors. Cinderella wants to come along, don't you, Cindy?'

‘Absolutely,' said Heidi. ‘It's what I've dreamed of.'

George dragged the tarpaulin, one-handed, from a quad bike, and checked the charge. The gun in his free hand kept wavering, he couldn't decide where to point it. It looked as if Sorrel was the favourite target. He hadn't yet released the safety.

‘We're going for a little ride. Get over here Sor. You're driving.'

‘NO! I'm not coming! We can't! He'll kill us!'

‘You're coming, little sis. Or I'll blow your head off.'