The Secret Chapter

by Genevieve Cogman

  ‘Worth it,’ Kai said smugly, watching them stagger away.

  ‘Worth it to what – call off my fight?’ Jerome said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Abruptly, Kai remembered Jerome had never agreed to his plan to pay and would clearly have been happier if he’d handled the thugs himself. It would have been . . . more of a challenge, more of a gamble.

  ‘I didn’t want him getting blood on your overcoat,’ he answered, trying to keep the tone light. ‘I don’t care what they say; even with cold water, it never washes out.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ Some of the tension between them ebbed away. ‘Nice work.’

  ‘You too.’

  ‘Is your sister also that good, if you’ve had the same training?’

  Kai bit back the words do me a favour – highly dangerous when the Fae could take it literally, and demand a price in return. Instead he said, ‘I’d be happier if you didn’t call her that. And probably, yes, but we’ve never sparred.’

  ‘Could be interesting,’ Jerome mused.

  ‘Save that thought till after this is over.’ Kai stared at the gloomy sky without really seeing it. ‘Being shaken down by the local gang isn’t much of a surprise. But the fact they used CENSOR as a threat – that means the fear of the supernatural is far more embedded in this world than we realized. Where are these local supernaturals, anyway? Could they help or hinder us?’ They began to walk towards the Metro, the quickest way of reaching the museum – which had, after all, been his original target. Although public transport suddenly felt a bit too public.

  ‘Who knows?’ Jerome replied. ‘But if CENSOR has stirred up that much suspicion of those with “powers” we’ll have to be really careful. The last thing we want is to trigger a lynch mob waving stakes, or whatever they do here.’

  ‘Keeping that gang happy, so they don’t set CENSOR on us first, will help,’ Kai pointed out.

  ‘Looks like we dodged a bullet, then. We only need to pay.’

  ‘It does make me wonder, though.’ Kai gestured at the street, the city beyond. ‘If we’ve hit problems already, what’s it like for people who actually live here, experiencing this environment of fear on a daily basis?’

  Jerome’s eyes were bleak, and his amused smile vanished. ‘There are more ways to control a land, or a world, than by dictatorship. And I think CENSOR’s found one of them.’

  Irene looked up from her monitor. The two of them were alone. ‘Could Hao Chen still be here? Tell me about him.’

  ‘He’s worthless.’ Indigo was working through another set of computer memory sticks, doing tests of some sort on the contents of each before discarding it. Each had its own little labelled nook in a foam-rubber-lined case. Even when Indigo would have – by her expression – preferred to have thrown them across the room, she carefully put each one back in place before trying the next. ‘I don’t have time for him.’

  ‘Worthless in the incompetent way, the libidinous way, or the frivolous way?’ Irene asked, with a wry smile.

  ‘Frivolous. He has no mind – no, that’s not quite correct. He does have a mind, but he chooses not to use it. He spends all his time on gambling and betting and theatres – and he’s led his sister into bad habits too.’

  ‘His sister?’

  ‘Shu Fang. They have the same parents on both sides. They made a binding contract for life, would you believe it? Of course, they’re low family, so they can do that sort of thing.’

  Irene knew that the royal dragons engaged in what Kai had referred to as ‘mating contracts’. They didn’t seem to go in for long-term or permanent marriages. It seemed that less powerful dragons had a bit more leeway. ‘If Hao Chen is still hanging around this world, does that mean we might expect his sister as well?’

  ‘You should have asked Kai before you sent him out,’ Indigo said, unfairly she thought. ‘Why are you pestering me for details?’

  ‘Because I thought you might know something useful,’ Irene said carefully. She wasn’t here to make enemies.

  ‘You seem to have dropped your bad attitude . . .’

  ‘And you seem to have stopped calling me “girl”.’

  ‘I needed to know your limits,’ Indigo said. She slotted in a new memory stick. ‘Fae are manageable, once you’ve grasped their particular delusion, but humans are less logical. You’re associating with Kai, for a start.’

  ‘You do realize that I’m curious about what’s going on there with you two,’ Irene said, leadingly.

  ‘And you do realize that I’m not going to discuss my private life with you.’

  Irene felt disappointed, but she was used to hunting down secrets. Indigo clearly had a few of them – and again, knowing so little about her teammates felt far too risky for comfort. ‘So why did you rebel against your parents?’ Irene probed. ‘Is the rule of dragons really that bad?’

  ‘No, not if you ask someone who accepts everything they’re told by their father,’ Indigo countered. ‘But if, unlike Kai, you really think about politics, about our monarchs’ right to rule, about the gaps in our history . . . what then?’

  ‘You tell me, Indigo – you’re the one who would know. Is there something to hide?’

  ‘Of course there is,’ Indigo said with casual scorn. ‘And people would kill to keep those secrets. Our so-called history is a shared fiction, agreed to keep those who are in power where they are. There is no such thing as genuine truth, only received truth. The winners write the history books in all cultures, as it serves their advantage. Parents tell their children the stories which paint them as heroes. Enlightened self-interest is the best that anyone can hope for.’

  ‘And I thought I was cynical.’

  Indigo leaned back in her chair. ‘Why don’t you tell me something instead? This program needs a few minutes to run, so you might as well . . .’

  Irene shrugged inwardly. Maybe if she talked, Indigo would be inclined to share in turn. ‘Let’s start with CENSOR. It was founded after the second “world war” – which happened in the nineteen-forties here too. It also shared the same standard Axis–Allies split which occurs in a lot of alternate worlds. But after the war, people discovered major-league supernatural interference. Secret cabals of vampires, packs of werewolves roaming the streets, hidden organizations of magi behind the scenes.’

  ‘That’s curious,’ Indigo said. ‘If they were so secret, how did they get found out?’

  ‘It seems new surveillance technology was invented during the war,’ Irene answered. ‘CENSOR’s archives would have more detail. Have you been able to access them?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Indigo muttered, irritation in her voice.

  Could it be that Indigo wasn’t finding the local systems quite as easy to hack as she’d boasted? Probably not helpful to ask. ‘Anyhow, after that period there’s a constant stream of supernatural incidents. An attempt by vampires to take over the Conservative Party in Great Britain, a rampage by werewolves down Las Ramblas in Barcelona, some sort of cabal of blood sorcerers in Belgium—’

  ‘Something strange always happens in Belgium,’ Indigo interrupted.

  ‘Why’s that?’ Irene asked, distracted.

  ‘I don’t know. Go on with the supernatural idiocy.’

  ‘There’s an ongoing seething boil of lower-grade problems, too; enough to keep CENSOR busy and everyone else paranoid. What I couldn’t find was any public mention of what happened to the arrested supernaturals afterwards.’

  ‘If I was in charge of CENSOR, I’d either use my supernatural captives to test new strategic initiatives, or I’d assemble them into my own private army,’ Indigo said. ‘Either way, I wouldn’t welcome public interest in my activities. When you were researching CENSOR in the library, do you suppose you triggered an alarm that provoked the raid?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Irene said. ‘My research didn’t suggest someone could be caught by an online search. All the same, we’d better be careful. And I hope you are very good at your job, if they are capable of that level of oversight.’
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br />   Something flashed on one of Indigo’s screens and she peered at it. ‘The whole thing seems messy. If there are all these supernatural factions, why haven’t they seized control? And if CENSOR’s so vigilant, why hasn’t it stamped them out?’

  ‘It’s only been sixty years or so since their rise,’ Irene said thoughtfully. ‘And it seems to be mostly a Europe-specific problem. America’s a theocracy with very strictly controlled travel in and out. China, Russia, the Middle East – most of them have their own CENSOR equivalents, which seem even more effective than here.’

  ‘The United Kingdom?’

  ‘Very strongly tied to Europe, which is why CENSOR has an English name and acronym. It did attempt to leave the European Union last year, but apparently that was prompted by demonic interference. A lot of politicians were subsequently tried for treason and beheaded at the Tower of London.’

  Indigo looked up and seemed to come to a decision. ‘Irene, between us, this hacking job may be slightly more difficult than I’d thought.’

  Irene’s mental alarms went off. They were hardly on ‘between us’ terms, and she sensed an attempt at manipulation.

  ‘There’s all this security. And now CENSOR to consider. What if we can’t get the job done on time, with this limiting my powers?’ Indigo lifted her right hand. The silver cuff gleamed coldly on her wrist.

  ‘I don’t suppose I could be of assistance with that?’ Irene offered, to see what she’d say.

  Indigo sniffed. ‘You honestly think you could do anything with those Librarian tricks, that I couldn’t do myself? Please, don’t be ridiculous.’

  Was that reverse psychology, to get Irene to remove the bracelet? Or was it a test of Irene’s commitment to the team? ‘As you like,’ was all she said.

  And was the momentary flicker behind Indigo’s eyes amusement, or disappointment at a failed gambit?

  ‘So what did Mr Nemo offer you?’ Indigo asked, too casually.

  ‘A book for the Library,’ Irene answered, equally non-committal.

  ‘Good to know that we can count on you for anything up to and including murder, then, with that bait . . .’ Indigo said, and turned back to her computer.

  Irene was still wondering about Indigo’s motives when her phone buzzed. A text from Kai.

  We have a problem. Museum closes for renovations in two days.

  Night had fallen. The once-empty office was filling up with a detritus of guidebooks, maps, notepads and crumpled bits of paper. If CENSOR did ever manage to find them here, they’d need to torch the place to conceal their plans, or hire an industrial shredder. Outside, lorries groaned and rattled past, following their nocturnal routes through the more industrial parts of Vienna.

  Ernst rolled his shoulders thoughtfully. ‘I think we need more pizza.’

  ‘If you can think at all, then you should be thinking about this,’ Felix snapped, marking locations on a tourist map of the museum’s second floor.

  ‘At least ordering in food fits our cover as a tech start-up company,’ Irene said, leaning over to study the exits. ‘Staying up working, living off pizza, coffee and takeaways . . .’

  Kai had returned, then been sent out again on a shopping mission by Indigo. He was now installing technical bits and pieces at her direction. Rather to Irene’s surprise, he seemed to be enjoying himself. She sometimes forgot that he’d spent time in a high-technology world. ‘Night work is essential,’ he said doggedly, ‘if we only have two days.’

  ‘Two days counting tomorrow, or two days starting from today – when they shut the place down?’ Tina asked. She was scrawling illegible markings on street maps of Vienna. She’d also obtained some miniature cars, which occasionally came whooshing down the main table and into the planning session. She was clearly a woman deeply in touch with her archetype.

  ‘The first, unfortunately,’ Jerome said. ‘I still think we should go in post-closedown. If there are going to be builders and security people all over the place, it could give us the perfect cover.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Felix agreed, ‘but we don’t know exactly how it’s going to work. If we move now, we can expect their regular security and guard patrols – more of a known quantity.’

  ‘But if we move after, we can do as much damage as we like,’ Ernst suggested. ‘We can have a big fire – or explosions – and blame it on terrorists or even evil mages. There will be so much destruction that there will be no evidence we took the painting. Nice and tidy for us. Messy for them.’

  ‘We are not burning down the Kunsthistorisches Museum,’ Irene said flatly. The very thought of destroying so many creative works made her flinch. Even if they weren’t books. ‘Nor are we blowing it up. Overkill is not an option here with the threat of CENSOR hanging over us.’ Some Librarians would have considered the cost – in lives or artworks – a reasonable price to pay. But while there were still other options, she’d use any excuse to get the others to back down.

  ‘I still can’t believe they didn’t have the planned closure online,’ Indigo muttered. ‘It’s blatant incompetence.’

  ‘It’s certainly odd.’ Irene scribbled on a sheet of paper, trying to work out which aspect of the building was most amenable to illegal entry. Unfortunately for their purposes, the museum had wide open spaces all round it: roads on three sides, and a park area facing the Natural History Museum on the fourth. The roads would be convenient for a rapid getaway, but they were well lit and covered by multiple cameras. Having their getaway vehicle park there for half the night wouldn’t be an option.

  ‘They’re closing because of subsidence,’ Kai interjected. ‘Isn’t that what the notices said?’

  ‘Still, the timing is suspicious,’ Irene continued. ‘We show up. Later the same day, they announce that the museum’s going to be closed for renovations. Maybe I’m being paranoid?’

  ‘No such thing as paranoia when on a job,’ Ernst said. ‘But at the moment no clear evidence to support it. Let us return to planning. Will computer technology be able to help us?’

  ‘There is a minor problem,’ Indigo said, reluctantly.

  ‘Ah, if it is minor, then you can explain it easily.’

  Indigo’s glare could have been used to polish diamonds. ‘I can explain the consequences easily enough, but unless you want to go back to school, not to mention university, I can’t explain why it’s a problem. Not to you, at least.’

  Ernst looked amused, but Felix seemed annoyed. Irene hastily said, ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘The CENSOR networks have unusually tight safeguards.’ Indigo pushed her long hair back irritably. ‘The easiest way of getting round them would be to insert physical interrupts into their systems. The problem with that is that it involves breaking in to insert them.’

  Kai frowned. ‘Into the central network systems, under the Vienna International Centre?’

  ‘The UNO-City buildings, yes. North-north-east of the Prater – the amusement park – on that curve of land between the Danube and the Danube Canal.’ She pointed it out on one of the maps. ‘If you thought security around the museum was high, security around CENSOR’s own nerve centre is going to be very high indeed.’

  ‘What one man can invent, another can break into and steal,’ Irene said thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps we could hire locals to arrange a distraction? More hands would be useful.’

  ‘Didn’t you have your own crew, Felix?’ Tina asked. She sent a car whizzing down the table, to do a ramp jump off an angled pizza box lid.

  ‘Not any more,’ Felix said, in tones that shut off any possibility of raising the question again.

  Irene decided a change of tactic might be an idea. ‘Indigo, is there a particular point where you need to put your physical interrupts, or are there options?’

  ‘Multiple options, but none of them particularly good.’

  ‘What I’m wondering is – whether any of them are under the river?’

  ‘What does that have to do with it?’ Indigo followed Irene’s gaze towards Kai. ‘O
h,’ she said, then with more interest, ‘Oh. Well. I didn’t know you had that level of control.’

  Kai sat back. His expression could not be defined, even by the most charitable, as anything less than extremely smug. ‘It’s not as if you would know, is it?’

  Felix sighed. ‘Does this mean that we have an option besides scuba diving and wetsuits?’

  ‘It’s certainly possible,’ Indigo said. ‘Though in that case, if Hao Chen is in the city, we might have a problem.’

  Kai’s smirk slipped. ‘That’s true. His element is also water. While he’s certainly not as strong as I am, if I use my strength he might feel something.’

  Jerome frowned. ‘Wait, did you just say Hao Chen?’

  ‘Does the name mean something to you?’ Indigo asked.

  ‘I saw it this afternoon.’

  ‘Details, please,’ Irene said, trying to repress a groan of frustration.

  ‘I was making the rounds of local casinos, to get the hang of the underground scene here. One of them – one of the less legal ones – was touting for a big event tomorrow evening. I managed to see the guest list. One of the names listed was Hao Chen.’

  Silence fell briefly as everyone considered this.

  ‘You said he was a gambler,’ Irene finally said to Indigo. ‘Do you think it’s really him?’

  ‘Well, there’s an easy way to check. What’s the name of the place? I may not be able to hack into CENSOR yet, but I can certainly manage a cheap local casino.’

  ‘An expensive local casino,’ Jerome contradicted her. ‘And one with an illegal side – the security’s likely to be good.’

  ‘Yes, yes, whatever,’ Indigo agreed dismissively. ‘The name?’

  ‘Casino Nonpareil. Founded by a French gambler somewhere in the seventeen-fifties.’ He shrugged at people’s gazes. ‘Look, it’s my business to know these things. She knows libraries.’ He nodded towards Irene. ‘I know casinos.’

  ‘Give me a moment.’ Indigo lowered her head towards her monitors like a cobra swaying towards its prey.