‘Your mother betrayed us, Letta. She set off, she and your father, against John’s orders. She abandoned Ark, abandoned me, abandoned you, Letta. I couldn’t accept it. I told John that I never wanted to hear her name again. I couldn’t bear to look at you. John sent you to live with Benjamin and warned the people that you were not to be told about your family background.’
‘How could you do that?’ Letta could hear the bitterness in her own words. ‘She was still your sister.’
Amelia sighed.
‘They were both my sisters. They both betrayed John, but more than that, they betrayed Ark. That I couldn’t forgive.’
‘Please, Amelia,’ Letta said, ‘help us.’
Amelia shook her head, sighing deeply.
‘I will tell you this,’ she said. ‘Carver doesn’t trust you. You may have convinced John, but Carver won’t give up. Be warned.’
Without another word, Amelia got up and walked away, not looking back. Letta stood watching her, hearing her hoarse breathing get fainter as the distance grew.
Somewhere in the ether she could hear Leyla’s sweet voice:
Down in the valley
The stream flows on
Later, back at the shop, Letta couldn’t rest. She felt as though she were trapped in Ark as much as Amelia was. She stood looking out at the street and let her mind wander over all that had happened. Her whole world had imploded, but in a strange way, she felt more real, more alive because of it. She had always seen herself as special in Ark. She was the wordsmith’s apprentice, part of John Noa’s team. The ordinary people were somehow separate from her. They didn’t have as much language or the right to speak it. They didn’t have information or power.
She realised now that it was that sort of thinking that had made Noa into the monster he had become.
She thought about the Desecrators and their way of life. Among them, she had got a glimpse of what life could be and, having got a glimpse, she was hungry for more.
And she thought about her mother, tried to imagine those three young women so full of hope and enthusiasm for the new world. Leyla was dead, Amelia transformed into a pitiful old woman and Freya …
Finally, she pulled out a box of words that Benjamin had brought back from a field trip and that had not yet been sorted. She was laying them out on the counter when a noise startled her.
A few minutes later she looked up to find Werber at the door.
‘No harm!’ he greeted her, his round face wreathed in smiles. ‘Bring you water.’
Letta felt as though her heart had stopped. In his hand, he carried a box with six large bottles of water in it.
‘I bring to Green Warriors in morning. What wrong, Letta?’
‘Nothing,’ she managed to say. ‘Nothing wrong. Thank you.’
He wagged his finger at her.
‘Thank you no List word!’
Of course it wasn’t. List didn’t accommodate please and thank you. Not any more.
She nodded. ‘Leave water there,’ she said pointing to the counter.
Werber hefted the box onto the counter.
‘Good water,’ he said to her with a smile.
Once he was gone, Letta allowed herself to panic. The water was being distributed. That meant that Noa was about to use the Nicene. She had to stop him. She sat at her desk with her head in her hands and tried to think. She didn’t hear Marlo come in. She looked up and found him, dressed as the cat collector, looking down on her. She jumped to her feet.
‘I am so glad to see you,’ she said. ‘Where’s Finn?’
‘At the pump house,’ Marlo said. ‘In a bad way.’
‘Leyla?’
Marlo nodded. ‘We don’t know where they’ve buried her.’
‘Listn, Marlo,’ Letta said. ‘Noa’s going to put the Nicene in the water. Any minute. I have got my bottles of uncontaminated water, and Werber is delivering some to the Green Warriors tomorrow. It’s time.’
They sat in silence for a moment.
She shivered at the thought of the water bottles in her house. It was as if the evil emanating from the house on the hill was a physical thing. She could almost touch it.
A sound from the direction of the back door startled Letta. ‘Did you hear something?’ she hissed at Marlo.
Without a word, he slipped out the door, and made for the stairs to the Monk’s Room. Letta got up and walked through the shop and out to the door at the back. She opened it cautiously. There was no-one there. She looked down the lane just in time to see a figure dressed in a long black coat disappear around the corner. A woman? Whoever it was, they had left in a hurry. As she turned to come back in, the drop box caught her eye. She opened it and saw a single sheet of paper. She picked it up. Three words:
TOMORROW AT DAWN
She recognised the handwriting. It was the same person who had written BENJAMIN NOT DEAD a lifetime ago.
CHAPTER 22
#496
Wordless
People no speak
FOR the remainder of the day, Letta and Marlo struggled to think of a way to get into the tower. She didn’t tell him about her mother. It was all too raw, the story too new to share it with anyone else, even Marlo. Instead she concentrated on her mission. She had to find a way to be there at dawn.
‘It’s impossible!’ Marlo said, when he got back from observing it. ‘We can’t get past the gavvers. Werber was right about the extra security.’
‘One more time,’ Letta said pacing the room. ‘Who can get in there? Who is allowed in officially?’
‘Not much happens there, to be honest,’ Marlo said. ‘Salt water comes in. It’s desalinated in one big tank. The fresh water goes into a second tank to which they add chlorine, to purify it. Then the clean water is piped out.’
Silence stretched between them. Letta stared at her hands, straining to come up with another route into the tower. When she looked up she found Marlo’s eyes looking back at her. He held out his hand to her and she put her own hand in his. He caressed it with his thumb. He smiled at her then and her heart raced.
I need to focus, she thought. Focus.
‘The water-cleaning process may be very simple and automated, but there must be people who are officially allowed into the tower.’
‘The Green Warriors,’ Marlo said, standing up. ‘And no, Letta, you cannot disguise yourself as a Warrior. The gavvers may be stupid but they’re not blind.’
Letta smiled. ‘Who else?’ she pushed him.
‘Werber?’
Letta frowned. ‘He won’t help us. I know he won’t.’
‘Amelia?’ Marlo suggested.
In her mind’s eye, Letta saw Amelia walking along the beach. ‘That’s it!’ she said, nearly knocking Marlo over in her excitement.
Marlo’s eyes widened. ‘You think Amelia would help?’
‘No!’ Letta said. ‘Not that. Listen!’ She grabbed Marlo’s arm. ‘I met Amelia today on the beach. While we were there, men were filling barrels with sea-water.’
‘Water gatherers,’ Marlo said. ‘What about them?’
‘The barrels!’ Letta had to stop herself from shouting at him. ‘The barrels go into the tower.’
Marlo frowned. ‘I have no idea what –’
‘I could hide in a barrel.’
The words hovered in the air between them.
‘Not you,’ Marlo said. ‘I’ll do it.’
‘You won’t fit,’ Letta said. ‘You won’t, Marlo, but I will.’
Marlo shook his head. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
‘It’s the only way,’ Letta said and, as she said it, she knew it was true.
‘It means that I can get into the tower. When he puts the Nicene in the water I’ll be there. I can talk to him. And if that doesn’t work I will be close enough to overwhelm him. He’s an old man.’
He adored you. If what Amelia said was true, maybe that would help too.
‘You have to help me,’ Letta said gently.
‘What do you need me to do?’ he as
ked.
Over the next hour they refined and polished the plan. Marlo would identify a barrel and remove some of the water. They couldn’t empty it altogether: the water needed to slosh when the barrel was moved, or it would be noticed. He would also put a small hole on the side so that Letta wouldn’t be short of air. Finally, he would distract the workers.
‘That won’t he hard,’ he said. ‘It’s a low-security job, and I know one of them, Colm.’
Letta nodded.
‘While you are in the tower,’ Marlo continued, ‘we will marshal as many people as we can find.’
‘To do what?’
‘We might not be able to get into the tower, Letta, but we can cause confusion outside it, keep the gavvers occupied so they can’t interfere with what you’re trying to do.’
Letta frowned.
‘We will be armed. Finn managed to get some Black Angel guns last week,’ Marlo hurried on. ‘And they won’t be expecting us. We can easily take down the gavvers guarding the tower.’
Letta remembered the cupboard she had seen at the pump house and the crude knives lined up, waiting to be called on.
‘We have all night to raise an army,’ Marlo went on. ‘We already have supporters, waiting for the call. Finn has been working for months to recruit people. More than thirty men have signed up from Tintown in the past few days. They are being led by a man called Kirch Tellon. He said he knew you.’
‘He does,’ Letta said, remembering the quiet man and his father.
‘You should let us do this altogether Letta,’ Marlo pressed. ‘It’s too dangerous for you alone. We could storm the tower and –’
‘And then what? Noa could put the Nicene in the water in a second, long before you had a chance to overpower him.’
Marlo didn’t answer but Letta knew that he had accepted what she said.
‘How is Finn?’ she asked, after a moment.
Marlo shook his head. ‘I’ve never seen him like this. His heart is changed somehow. He loved her very much. There are no arranged partnerships amongst the Creators, you know. People get together because they love one another.’
With his last words, something struck Letta. A thought that seemed to have come from nowhere. John Noa loves Amelia. She didn’t know why that might be important, but she knew it was.
‘I’d better go,’ Marlo said. ‘I’ll see you at the beach. Five bells?’
‘I’ll be ready.’
After Marlo left, Letta went on pacing the floor, going over the plan. The barrel would get her into the tower. When Noa came she would plead with him. Persuade him. If that didn’t work, she would overpower him physically, knock the Nicene out of his hand so it didn’t go in the water supply. She was certain she could do it, once she got close enough to him.
She was distracted by a noise outside the window. She went to the door and looked out.
On the street, a small group of men stood in the fog. Their arms and legs were bare and they wore their hair long. They were the Wordless. She opened the door and walked onto the street. The men were trying to communicate with the people who passed by. Letta could see them grabbing on to people, grunting, gesticulating.
They’re trying to tell them something, Letta thought sadly. The Wordless persevered, stopping anyone who came near. Bruno, the tinsmith, pushed them away roughly and walked on. A woman crossed the street to avoid them. Letta could see the aggression growing on their faces. As she watched, a small boy tried to cross in front of the group. Without warning one of the men lashed out, his hand catching the back of the child’s head. The boy fell face first right in front of Letta. In a heartbeat, the Wordless dispersed, even as the child’s cries cut through the air. Letta knelt down beside him. He looked up at her with enormous frightened eyes.
‘Allove!’
The scavenger’s boy. She remembered him from the pump house.
He gazed back at her, stunned from the fall. Then she could see recognition dawn slowly.
‘Bad people! Bad people!’
Letta jumped. The child was terrified of her, she could see that.
‘You!’
She looked up. Smith Fearfall was staring down at her. He looked from the child back to Letta as if in slow motion.
‘You were there that night. You are one of them.’
Fearfall reached down and grabbed her arm. She could feel his nails dig into the soft flesh.
‘Desecrator! Desecrator! Call gavvers!’
Letta didn’t wait to hear any more. Yanking her arm away from him she pushed him as hard as she could, felt him stumble, and then she ran.
Adrenalin coursed through her body. Her feet pummelled the rough ground, her arms pushing people out of her way. Behind her, she could hear shouts and jeers but she didn’t look back. She was sure there were people in pursuit but she didn’t care. All she could think about was getting away. Up ahead, she saw the cobbler’s shop and behind it the lane where she had played as a child. She had to get there before they caught her. She tried to go faster but her breath was catching in her chest now, her side was hurting her and she could feel a stitch developing.
Thump! Something hit her on the back. She pitched forward but managed to stay standing. She glanced back. A small crowd was fifty strides behind her, howling like wolves. She turned the corner, sprinting past the front door of the cobbler’s and made it into the lane.
She knew this area like she knew her own face. This was where she had played with Eva, the cobbler’s daughter. In front of her she could see the high stone wall that marked the end of the lane. A dead end. She fell to her knees in front of it. Her hands moved urgently along the ground until she felt it. A cold metal ring. She pulled. At first it didn’t move. She pulled again. This time she managed to lift it. The old manhole cover was big but it moved easily enough. Holding on to the edge of the stones, she lowered herself down. Her feet hit the ground. She found the groove cut into the cover stone, and pulled it across, as she had done so many times when she had played hide-and-seek with the cobbler’s children. It didn’t fully close and she could hear the crowd now. They were at the top of the lane. Another tug, and the stone sealed the crawl hole. She waited, her breath coming in gasps.
She could feel their feet above her. Hear their muffled curses. What if one of them knew about this hiding hole? She closed her eyes and hoped that they did not.
Minutes passed. They were still there. Still muttering, still searching. Then she heard a high-pitched whistle. Gavvers. More running. Then finally silence.
She stayed where she was, not daring to move. She had to be sure they were gone. Every so often, a siren rent the air. They were still looking. Carver wouldn’t rest now. He had proof. An eyewitness.
But she had to get to the beach. She had no idea what time it was.
She raised her arms and gently slid the cover across. Grabbing the stones on either side she lifted herself up. She climbed out carefully. The lane was empty. She crouched there for a moment, ready to run. The wall, to her right, loomed out of the darkness. There was a door there that led to the cobbler’s small back yard. She turned the wooden knob carefully. The door opened. On a line, strung across the yard, hung the hides the cobbler used to make his leather. She touched one, gingerly. The smell was overpowering, just as she remembered it from when she had played there as a child.
She crossed the small yard and exited through a gap in the fence. It had started to rain, dark clouds gathering overhead. Within seconds she was back on the street, head down heading for the potato fields. She trudged up the hill feeling the bustle of the town falling away behind her. As she crested the hill, she stopped to catch her breath. She never heard the man behind her till his hand clamped on her arm. She screamed. The hand covered her mouth.
‘Quiet!’ a voice said.
She looked around.
‘Finn!’
In his hand Finn held a wooden club.
‘I have to meet Marlo. At the beach.’
She could hardly get the wo
rds out.
‘Come quickly,’ Finn said. ‘We don’t have much time.’
The latest intelligence said that the Desecrators were about to strike. An outright rebellion this time, drawing on the disaffected, not only in Ark but also in Tintown. They had spent months raising an army. Time had run out. He knew that he had to make his move now, but he couldn’t concentrate.
Why did it have to be Leyla? He paced the floor feeling like a caged lion. Of all the Desecrators, they have to drag her in. He could feel Amelia’s pain but could do nothing to help her. Everyone in Ark knew Leyla had been arrested. If he had not dealt with her, they would have sensed his weakness and attacked. He had seen it with the wolves many times and knew man would be no different.
No. Leyla had had to die. Amelia would understand, eventually. She was clever. He could have concocted a story to ease her grief. Maybe he should have said that she had died of natural causes.
A heart attack.
Amelia would have believed him, she had always believed him. He buried his head in his hands.
No! He couldn’t have done that, couldn’t have used words to deceive her. He was not a hypocrite. Amelia would understand. She had been fond of Benjamin, but she hadn’t opposed his decision when it came time to get rid of him. She would support him now too. When she recovered from the first wave of grief, she would know that what he had done was right.
She had been quiet when he told her, her face white, her eyes wide. He remembered her grief when she lost her younger sister. The long nights by the window, waiting. He had tried to hold her, but she had been like a block of ice in his arms. It was understandable, he told himself, they were sisters no matter what Leyla had become. He would save Letta for her. That would mean something. Letta was her own flesh and blood. Amelia would forgive him.
Why then did he feel such crushing anxiety? It was like the walls were closing in on him. There was tightness in his throat like a noose. He pulled at the shirt buttons at his neck. He needed air. He turned quickly, stumbled, almost fell. He reached for the wall to support him.
He had to calm down. It would be time soon. He would take Werber with him. The boy was loyal and stupid. Werber could guard the door while he …
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