‘Good. Then I’m out of here. I’m hunting down a set of archaeological detective stories for Accidie about Prester John.’
Irene wished her own mission was so easy to explain. ‘Please let Coppelia know I’m being as proactive as possible.’
‘I will,’ Evariste promised. ‘Good luck with your mission, then . . .’ He was clearly on the point of leaving, but curiosity prompted him to ask, ‘How are you handling all the surveillance?’
‘We’ve got a techie. She’s hacked into the local systems.’
Evariste blinked. ‘That sounds like something out of a bad movie.’
Irene shrugged. ‘Apparently programming languages are somewhat transferrable between worlds.’
Evariste’s expression was dubious. ‘Irene, do you hang out much in high-tech locations?’
‘Not as much as some,’ Irene admitted.
‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but . . .’ Evariste was clearly nerving himself up to disagree. ‘You want to be careful. Programs and exploits don’t transfer that easily. There are too many variables. If someone’s telling you that it will work, then watch out. Maybe they’re just telling you what you want to hear.’
Irene glanced to Kai, but his expression was guarded. It wasn’t shock or disagreement, but a studied neutrality. Her heart went cold. What has Kai not been telling me? She knew that he kept secrets from her; that was fair enough – she kept secrets from him. But if he was hiding mission-critical information, it had to be private dragon business. She didn’t like to think about the implications. ‘I see,’ she said. ‘We’ll be careful.’
‘Was there anything else?’ Evariste asked. He was clearly keen to leave as soon as possible.
‘No . . . I mean yes.’ A thought sparked in Irene’s mind. ‘I apologize for reminding you of Qing Song,’ she said, ‘but he was of the Winter Forest family, wasn’t he? Did he ever mention someone called Lady Ciu, when you were his prisoner?’
Evariste frowned, but at least he didn’t flinch at the memory. ‘In what context?’
‘Probably approving,’ Kai said. ‘She used to be a respected warrior.’
‘There was a Ciu,’ Evariste said slowly. ‘He didn’t talk about her as lady or anything, though. She’d worked for his family – I think it was teaching the kids swordplay. The way he talked about it, it was a century or so ago. He said she retired. Something about getting hurt in a fight. But her retirement wasn’t because of the injury, it was because she’d lost. He said she’d been taken care of, I seem to remember. Putting her out to pasture, that was it. But I got the impression that he’d liked her.’
So was this world Lady Ciu’s private retirement home? And were the two younger dragons her servants – or her nurses and keepers?
The phone in her pocket buzzed and she answered.
‘Tina here. We have a problem.’
‘What sort of problem?’ Irene demanded.
‘Felix says he’s going to shoot Indigo. Jerome’s backing him up. You interested?’
‘Tell everyone to stay calm, we’re coming now,’ Irene said, ending the call. ‘Evariste, Kai, there’s trouble upstairs – got to go. Take care, safe journey, thanks for the help—’
‘Whatever,’ Evariste agreed. ‘See you around.’
He was already heading out of the door as Irene hit the stairs running, and Kai followed. ‘What is it?’ he said.
‘Felix pulled a gun on Indigo,’ Irene panted. ‘Don’t know why.’
Kai speeded up, racing ahead. Visions of what might happen if the team indulged in an open confrontation – bloodstained visions – flipped through Irene’s mind like ratcheting film frames. They could say goodbye to the job if that happened. She kicked into a final burst of speed, dashing up the last stairs in Kai’s wake.
Indigo’s hands were curved open in a gesture that would have revealed claws if she’d had them, and though her eyes might not be dragon-red, they glittered with anger. Across from her, Felix held his gun in a marksman’s grip. Jerome had his gun out too, and though his grip seemed almost careless, the Fae had it aimed squarely at Kai, holding him motionless. Ernst still sat at a table, half-assembled bombs and detonators scattered across it in a dangerous detritus.
‘You were quick,’ Tina remarked.
‘Will someone kindly tell me what the hell is going on?’ Irene said, her tone ice cold.
‘Your Librarian gave it away,’ Felix said. ‘I was looking in the wrong direction when it came to betrayal. I should have gone for the obvious candidate.’
‘What do you mean?’ Irene asked. It had to be Evariste’s comment about programming. Inwardly she cursed having let the others listen in.
‘What she’s doing with those computers is flat-out impossible. Your friend said so.’ His paranoia was visible in the tense lines of his body. ‘So how come she can manipulate this tech so easily, if she’s never even been here before? How come she’s doing the impossible?’
‘Because I am that good,’ Indigo snapped, with a harmonic to her voice that should have made the monitors tremble where they stood. ‘So what if the Librarian couldn’t manage it? I can.’
‘But why’s it so easy for you?’ Felix demanded, nearly hysterical as his paranoia blossomed. ‘Is someone helping you? Are you planning to sell us out? And Mr Nemo too?’
Indigo tilted her arm so that the light caught the wide silver bracelet which still encircled her wrist. ‘I’m bound, fool. I need Mr Nemo to take this off. I’m one hundred per cent committed to the job. More than you are . . . Do you think I’d really be cooperating with creatures like you, if I had any other choice?’
Irene saw Felix’s finger tighten on the trigger. ‘I don’t think she is getting help,’ she interrupted, suspicion dawning slowly. ‘At least it’s not what you think. Want me to make some guesses?’ Pieces fitted together now.
‘Like what?’ Felix demanded.
Irene walked further into the room, Kai just a step behind. She could sense his anger, his readiness to move against any target which presented itself. Which might be her in a minute. ‘Contrary to what some of you may think,’ she said, ‘Kai doesn’t tell me everything. So I need to do some hypothesizing.’
Jerome shifted position. Now his gun might have been pointed at anyone – or everyone – in the room. This was no better. ‘Go on, then.’
‘I’ve noticed that the dragons are far more organized than the Fae – it’s one of your known strengths. It was evident during the treaty negotiations, when both sides were flexing their muscles. The dragon delegation argued that their superior organizational powers brought more to the table, and so justified the grant of wider concessions. But organization’s considerably easier when you’ve laid the groundwork in advance . . .’
Indigo didn’t move, but her eyes burned. Irene knew that she’d struck gold. She felt a bit sick; this betrayal cut deep. When she glanced at Kai, he looked like thunder, confirming her suspicions.
‘So tell me, Indigo – how does this work exactly? Laying down top-secret infrastructure for the dragon empires in secret, subverting human power structures? Do tech-savvy dragons like you grease the wheels of dragon commerce across a spectrum of worlds? It might sound mundane, but by making sure human and dragon software is compatible, you could control any world that uses technology – Alpha and Gamma worlds. Maybe even high-tech worlds where chaos rules and the Fae are stronger . . . is that right, Indigo? Can any dragon access the local computer networks, whatever world you’re in, whenever and wherever you want?’
Every Fae in the room looked ready to kill someone. Ernst’s hands froze. He carefully put down the tweezers and wire he’d been holding. ‘Surely that is not possible. The sheer numbers of worlds . . .’
‘I’m not saying they’ve done this in every world,’ Irene answered quickly, looking at the Fae, poised for action yet still hanging on her every word. ‘Maybe just the ones where dragons live full-time? Like this one, where Lady Ciu’s been a permanent resident for decades. Nor a
m I saying that every world’s going to have exactly the same operating systems. But perhaps with enough dragons “influencing” their target worlds, they can make sure the right sorts of technology get developed? All added up, it could be enough to allow an expert to carry a briefcase full of memory sticks and expect to hit the ground running, if she went to a high-order world.’
The pieces were all fitting together. She couldn’t believe the scale of it. Dragons made everything look so effortless – power, control, wealth. They always managed to place themselves in positions of high authority and stay there. This sort of sustained, covert, multi-generational campaign to infiltrate the software infrastructure across multiple worlds . . . She’d never even considered such a thing would be possible. It was like the old proverb about swans – floating gracefully on the surface of the water, but paddling away underneath like a millwheel. ‘Am I right, Indigo? And has there been draconic influence in this world’s software development?’
Indigo’s face was neutral, but her eyes flickered. Perhaps she was running through decision trees as logically as any computer, Irene wondered. Finally she sat down. ‘If anyone were to take this seriously, you realize that you’ve endangered yourself and everyone in this room?’
‘Well, of course,’ Irene said. And that was as good an admission as any she’d heard. The thought of bursting into manic laughter was very tempting. As if this job wasn’t messy enough. ‘This must be a huge dragon secret. Maybe their biggest. Naturally we’re all in danger of death – permanent death, inescapable death, death raining down on us in storms of fire – if word gets out that we know about this.’ She looked around the room. ‘Note that I said if word gets out.’
‘And if dragon boy talks?’ Ernst asked, his voice a quiet rumble of threat.
Kai picked up a discarded mouse from one of the tables. It splintered in his hand as he tightened his fingers around it. ‘You said it yourself, didn’t you? Irene and I are partners in crime.’ His voice was bitter.
Felix looked at Indigo. ‘I’d love to shoot you now – but we need more answers. And you’re hardly in league with your kin any more.’ He lowered his gun, sliding it back into his jacket. ‘So why were you on the run from your family?’ he asked.
‘Emptying my father’s bank accounts, on multiple worlds, to help finance revolution,’ Indigo answered. ‘Now are you going to help me with this theft, or not?’
‘I like your style. Any chance of future collaboration?’ Felix suggested.
Irene suppressed a sigh of relief as the tension coming from the Fae started to ebb away. Maybe no one would die today.
‘I think not,’ Indigo snapped. ‘My feelings towards my father don’t make me like you any better.’
‘Needs must when the devil drives,’ Felix said philosophically.
Kai stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Irene wondered if she’d hoped for peace – at least local, better-than-nothing peace – too soon.
‘You’d better go after him,’ Indigo said, a malicious edge to her voice. ‘You wouldn’t want him to slip his leash . . .’
Kai was pacing up and down the landing outside. He grabbed Irene’s arm the moment she emerged, dragging her into one of the empty offices. ‘Thank you, Irene. Thank you very much.’
He was genuinely angry. ‘There is a big difference between having a truce and actively giving away sensitive information to those creatures! How could you? How could you do such a thing?’
‘I didn’t ask you about this, so your loyalties weren’t compromised,’ Irene retorted. ‘I took great care not to ask you. I asked Indigo – and she confirmed it.’
Kai’s temper wasn’t abating. ‘It doesn’t matter where it came from – you know I can’t let that sort of information get out. You’ve made it impossible for me to tell my father that the others know without admitting that you do too. Was that deliberate? Were you putting your own life at risk, out of some foolish camaraderie with Fae who have been threatening to kill you? Irene, whose side are you on?’
‘I’m trying to keep everyone pointed in the same direction till we’ve stolen that damn painting!’ Irene snapped. ‘I hadn’t decided to say anything – but Evariste forced my hand and the others were out for Indigo’s blood. I needed to say something. And what about Mr Nemo – don’t you think he must know too? Why else would he have hired Indigo as his hacker, in a team of Fae? The Fae have mad scientists, or urban coders, or other archetypes. There must have been a reason why he chose a dragon.’
Kai muttered a sharp curse. ‘This grows more and more complicated. My father would have accepted the necessity of this mission at the beginning, to secure the book for the Library, but now . . .’
Irene was aware that then don’t tell him about it wasn’t much of an answer – or at least, not one that would satisfy Kai. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but that’s the problem with you taking the initiative and coming with me on a mission. I have my own priorities. You’re not under my authority any longer. I don’t want to do this without you – but if you honestly feel that you can’t stay any longer, I will understand.’
‘That’s emotional blackmail,’ Kai accused. ‘You’re trying to make me feel guilty.’
‘No.’ Anger was receding now, leaving Irene exhausted. ‘No, Kai, it’s honesty. I can’t make any promises about how this mess is going to work out, but I have to go through with it. If I don’t, a world I care about falls into chaos – and we’ll never get it back. That world made me who I am, perhaps just as much as my parents.’
‘Aside from the mission . . . Did you hear what she said, though?’ Kai interjected. He was clearly still very angry. ‘How Indigo admitted to stealing from our lord father?’
Well, Irene thought, it does explain why nobody was willing to talk about the details of her crimes. It might have given other dragons ideas.
Not for the first time, she wondered if there was such a thing as a universal standard of morality. Her old school had claimed that some lines should never be crossed. This seemed simplistic, but maybe they had a point. How would it feel if her own parents could never forgive her for committing a particular crime? Or if she couldn’t forgive them?
Actual laws only applied to human beings. Everything in dragon society came down to custom – including family obligations, personal standards and ties of loyalty. Indigo had irrevocably broken those ties. Fae society was driven by personal ambition and the perfection of an individual’s desired archetype. If a Fae took on the role of a fictional mass murderer, they could be an ally or an enemy, but not a criminal – unless their actions inconvenienced someone more powerful. And Librarians routinely stole books as part of their job. However, the only real crimes among them included betrayal of the Library and other Librarians, or failure . . . So was it actually possible for all these factions to share a morality? For this job, for the treaty and beyond?
Kai was looking at her, expecting an answer. ‘You know my mission must be my priority,’ she said. ‘I’m not trying to manipulate you.’
He snorted. ‘Maybe not, but you’re succeeding.’
Irene gave up and ran her hands through her hair. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘I’m going back in. Will you be all right?’
Kai raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you think I’m just going to stay out here? Don’t worry, I’ll behave myself. And I know you can look after yourself. But I promised to keep you safe, Irene . . . even against my family, no matter how angry I am.’
It was early evening in the Vienna Naschmarkt, and all the food stalls and mini-restaurants along the long street were up and running. Delicious odours tempted the prospective diner – fish and garlic, steak and sausage, curry and mustard and falafel. They all combined into a melange that would have been unthinkable in an actual meal, but which lured the nose and set the salivary glands flowing.
‘How much further does this market go on?’ Kai asked, half glancing at Irene. Things were still a little tense between them. ‘We don’t want to be late.’
He h
ad a point. They were off to deliver the gang’s ‘protection money’ and their instructions had been clear. Show up at seven o’clock on the dot, under the stall with a blue awning at the far end of the Naschmarkt – Vienna’s old night market. While technically Kai and Jerome were the contacts for the gang, Irene had invited herself along. Ernst and Felix were holding the fort with Indigo – ready to evacuate if CENSOR showed up. Tina was circling the Naschmarkt area in a small van, in case emergency pickup was needed.
‘It shouldn’t be much further,’ Irene said. The stalls along the street became more rundown and displayed shorter menus as they continued. The ones where they’d started, near the Ringstrasse – the circular boulevard at the heart of old Vienna – were good quality, tourist traps, or both. But further down, they grew seedier and cheaper. Not so much as to be dangerous – well, Irene reflected, perhaps not a place to be walking alone late at night – but perfect for illicit dealings.
‘There.’ Jerome nodded at a blue awning flapping in the rising wind. ‘That one, I think.’
The three of them perched on rickety stools at the stall’s single bench. It advertised Middle Eastern food, but it neither looked nor smelled appetizing. Irene checked her watch, just as a young woman laid an acquisitive hand on Kai’s arm.
She was strapped into tight Lycra and far too much fake leather. Her hair was a mix of blue and purple which gleamed under the streetlights, and her eyes were generously smudged with eyeshadow. ‘Hey, handsome. You here for the dog racing?’
‘We are,’ Jerome said, before Kai could wrench his arm away. He slid a small-denomination bill across the counter to the owner. ‘For your trouble.’
‘Not a problem,’ the man said, clearly used to that sort of exchange. Tucking the note away, he began serving another customer.
Irene watched the young woman carefully. It didn’t seem as if she could be concealing a weapon; everything fitted too snugly. ‘Straight handover?’ Irene asked.
‘The boss would like a word first,’ the young woman said. Under her bravado and the heavy eyeshadow, she looked more than uneasy; she seemed spooked.
The Secret Chapter Page 17