Wants of the Silent

by McPartlin, Moira;

  ‘I could always come back here,’ I said. But she just smiled and shook her head.

  *

  Con led me to a corner of Steadie I’d never seen before. Specials were sifting through cargo containers, sorting a mountain of thin plastic gloves and bootees into clear and blue mounds. Con pointed to a fence post.

  ‘You’ll get a good signal here.’

  I looked at my communicator that had been blinking on and off ever since he’d returned it to me.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’

  ‘Because I wanted you out. I don’t want to risk the State picking out an illegal frequency from here.’

  ‘So why now?’

  He shrugged. ‘I still want you out but reckon the quicker you get in touch with your people the quicker you’ll be gone.’

  It took a while to boot. I knew what I had to do. The signal buzzed. The picture flickered and then I saw him, his smile splitting the screen and sending my heart into a black hole.

  ‘At last!’ Kenneth said. ‘Where the devil have you been?’

  I wanted to be with him. I wanted to tell him to his face so he could punch me if he wanted to. I tried to find a word to start with. I tried to find a smile. He noticed. He could see my face.

  ‘How’s Scud?’ I asked, stopping his question.

  Kenneth looked behind him. ‘He’s doing good. I’ll text a full report to you now I know you’re OK. Did you find Vanora? Is Ishbel with you? Where’s Ridgeway? Let me speak to him. We had a secret signal but I haven’t heard from him for aeons.’

  ‘You have to take Scud to Freedom.’ I told him about the ransom note and that we were going back to Black Rock. I told him about Steadie, I told him anything I could think of.

  ‘Where’s Ridgeway, Sorlie? Tell me.’

  ‘I’m sorry…’

  ‘Tell me, Sorlie, whatever, whoever, just tell me.’

  ‘He’s dead.’ A shadow of pain passed his face and with it flew all his wasted lonely years.

  He moved, maybe knelt down, I couldn’t be sure. His breathing was faint, struggling. ‘How?’

  Ishbel walked across the patch of land towards me, then stopped. She stood stock still watching me. Waiting for me to finish what I had started.

  ‘When Vanora and I left the Transport, it took off then exploded.’ He rasped a sharp intake of breath.

  ‘Why wasn’t Ridgeway with you?’

  ‘Vanora told him to go back.’ I lost the image of him, I heard him roar, something crashed, I think I heard Scud’s voice, at least Kenneth wasn’t alone. The blurred face that returned to my screen had aged a hundred years, he was back in his cave. His teeth clenched over his newly shorn beard. ‘I’m going to kill her for this.’ And he was gone.

  Ishbel patted my shoulder. Poor Kenneth.

  ‘Come on. Dawdle’s craft has arrived. Let’s go and get this done, whatever it is.’

  When we sank below the waves I waited for Dawdle’s pain, but it didn’t come. ‘Doesn’t the pressure affect you?’

  ‘Naw.’ Then he twigged. ‘Ah just cannae swim, never learned.’

  I looked towards Ishbel, who shrugged a ‘who cares’.

  ‘Do you know who we’re meeting?’ I asked.

  ‘Don’t you?’ At first I thought he was speaking to me but his eyes were on Ishbel. She took the chess piece from her pocket and twisted it round and round her fingers.

  ‘It can’t be.’

  ‘Who?’ I could feel my blood foam.

  ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

  The sub stank of diesel but was tidy and relatively clean. Not what I’d expected after seeing the state of the Noiri van I was trashed in. It was one of those tiny, stupid-looking orange things the Academy used to take us on Marine Biology field trips. We had a whole timetable of trips planned but after the second, when we ran into the vast plastic junk yard and our propeller was snagged on shredded blue rope and we nearly all died, the Academy cancelled the programme. It was pointless because we never saw any biological things, ever. I can understand how easy it is for Steadie to harvest their plastic from the ocean, there was an unlimited supply around the whole island. Anyway, the man Dawdle looked pleased with his sub.

  ‘Is this it?’ I said, more to piss him off and it worked.

  ‘Sorry, your Majesty. The gold-plated Transport is having an oil change today.’ His voice affected.

  It might have been clean but it reminded me of the Transport Ishbel and I travelled to Black Rock on the first time. Tired and worn out. It creaked and cranked but seemed to be watertight, even though it had to rest the engines every now and then.

  ‘We’ll never get there at this rate,’ I said.

  ‘Hold yer jets, pal. Peedle’s never let us down yet.’

  Ishbel was rooting around under one of the seats. She chucked a first aid kit across the floor then sat back on her heels when she had what she was looking for. It was a knot with a blue pearl in its centre.

  ‘It’s the same as the ones we saw at Steadie, when they all started going a bit weird,’ I said. ‘What is it?’

  Dawdle stared into the murky depth that lay beyond the scored and scratched front shield. I saw his jaw chew on some words but he kept them to himself.

  ‘It’s the badge of the Blue Pearl Society. A secret organisation who once venerated Vanora. I suspect, based on the Steadie folks’ behaviour, that this has now been appropriated by The Prince.’

  ‘What do you mean appropriated?’

  ‘He has managed to get them to switch allegiance to him.’ She threw it at Dawdle. ‘Isn’t that right, Dawdle?’

  ‘Look, dinnae ask me. Ah picked it up fae one o’ the consignments. Ah thought it might be valuable. If ah’d known you were going tae bump yer gums about it every two minutes ah’d huv chucked it overboard.’

  ‘Do you believe him, Sorlie? You’ve been in his company only a little while. Do you believe this fine upstanding Noiri man? No? Neither do I.’

  Her dander was right up. She had certainly shaken off her native training in the months we’d been apart. She smiled, she growled, I might even see her cry one day but I doubted it.

  ‘I wonder where all the people in Steadie got their badges? A community cut off. But they didn’t look like fanatics, they looked like people clutching at straws. It’s almost as though there’s been a recent recruitment drive.’ She moved behind Dawdle and placed her hands on his shoulders. ‘Facilitated perhaps by someone who has easy access to all areas of our society, even those cut off.’

  She squeezed his shoulders. I saw her knuckles turn white and the muscles in her right arm bulge. Dawdle didn’t even blink but his jaw throbbed.

  ‘Oh, and you never did explain how you know Merj.’ She picked the knot from the dash where it had landed and shoved it in Dawdle’s face. ‘Does he have one of these too?’ She closed her fist around it and shoved it between his legs so hard he gasped. I felt my eyes water in sympathy.

  ‘Look, Ish you don’t…’ he choked

  ‘You are up to your neck in this. What were you promised in return for your help?’ She left him and sat on the floor where she could see his face.

  ‘Did you arrange the kidnap?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What about Arkle and Ridgeway?’ I asked.

  ‘No, we think that wis Purist insurgents. That wis the report ah got. They’re starting tae become a right nuisance.’

  ‘Report? From who?’ Ishbel asked. He refused to answer. The memory of Kenneth’s pain clung to me like a stale cologne that refused to die.

  ‘Look, Ish.’

  ‘Stop calling her Ish, her name is Ishbel.’

  He left the controls and squared me. ‘Ah can call her what ah like. She owes me big time and she knows it.’

  It was like a slap across my face. ‘What the snaf is that s
upposed to mean?’

  ‘Don’t listen to him, he’s winding you up.’ But the pinkness in her cheeks suggested some arrangement.

  ‘She’s not a piece of property.’

  ‘That’s rich coming fae somebudy who’s treated her like dirt aw his Privileged life.’

  There was no answer to that barb because it was true. ‘She wanted tae get you tae Black Rock and this little beauty is the only means available.’ He slapped the console.

  ‘We’ll pay you.’

  ‘What with, books?’ There was no sneer or joy in his voice, just business.

  ‘So that was part of it too.’

  ‘Listen son, since ah got in tow wi Ishbel ah’ve lost millions o’ credits through lost business. Dae ye think ah operate a travel agent? No profit, no go, that’s ma motto.’

  ‘You’re not interested in meeting The Prince then? From what Ishbel was saying it sounds like you might be working for him.’

  ‘Ah work for no man. Ah’m a sole trader, pure and simple. If The Prince wants tae see me, he knows where tae find me, but it looks like today we’ll aw be meeting him. Ah cannae deny ah’m no curious tae see if ma guess is correct.’

  He scratched his chin for a moment and stared at the murk. Then he turned back to face us.

  ‘Tell me, what dae ye think is more valuable? You and Ishbel or Kenneth and Scud?’

  ‘What’d you mean?’

  ‘A spoiled brat and his very capable and, may ah say, beautiful native or the architect of the DNA dilution and the success of that experiment. Ah know which one ah’d rather trade in. Or maybe he already hus the first prize and wants the second too.’

  ‘Who?’ He was maddening.

  ‘He’s only guessing, ignore him,’ Ishbel said.

  ‘You still dinnae get it, dae ye son?’

  A small bell tinkled from the dash. ‘We’re here.’ Dawdle jumped back into his driving seat. ‘We’ll surface just off the coast before we motor in. Just tae suss out what’s what.’

  The journey hadn’t seemed real until I felt the ruffle of the wind in my hair as we emerged from the hatch. Salt nipped my nostrils and I was whipped back to my days at Black Rock and all the horrors they contained. We faced the penitentiary. Darkness had fallen while we’d been submerged and a sheet of low cloud had pulled down from the sky. It was raining – of course.

  ‘It always rains here.’ I said as if I was showing tourists my quaint ancestral home.

  A small light still shone in the window of my cell as if the place had held its breath waiting for my return.

  ‘How do you know it’s safe?’ I asked.

  ‘Because we’re expected, and if it wisnae safe we’d huv been blown out the water by now.’ But Dawdle looked uneasy. ‘Anyway, we’ve no choice.’

  When Ishbel joined us in the hatch Dawdle made way for her but instead of taking the place she punched him in the mouth. His hand flew to stop the trickle of blood that appeared, he eased his jaw. ‘What was that for?’ he mumbled.

  ‘You took my pill.’

  ‘Ishbel, they’re no going tae torture you here. They already huv Vanora. They’re not the Military, ah’d bet my best van on it.’

  Lights snapped a message from the castle crown, the ramparts where, in Davie’s reign, guards patrolled, taking pot shots in the dark. It was impossible to see who sent this message but Dawdle seemed happy and returned the message with a handheld torch.

  We dropped back down into the cab and he trundled through the shallower waters to the north of the island.

  ‘What’s in it for you?’ I asked him. He’d already said ‘no profit, no go.’

  Dawdle seemed to consider answering then nodded. ‘Monsieur Jacques,’ he said. ‘Ah’ve run a successful operation in Lesser Esp for years but it’s becoming more difficult. The flood, y’know? Monsieur Jacques, he’s connected. Ah need contacts in Major Esp. Although he has a base here, that was always the prize fur him. For me too, and The Prince. And if Vanora is smart, fur you too. So let’s just get in there and get this done.’

  ‘It’s more than that though,’ Ishbel said. ‘What’s Monsieur Jacques to you?’

  Dawdle rubbed his neck.

  ‘Come on Dawdle, spill. We’re not going to tell anyone.’

  I wondered what she was leading up to but stayed schtum. Dawdle looked uncomfortable.

  ‘Let’s just say when no one else wis around he wis there tae take care o’ me until ah could take care o’ maself.’

  ‘So he brought you up?’ she asked.

  ‘Ah prefer tae think on him as ma patron.’

  ‘And now you want to take over his operation.’ She didn’t even bother to hide her disgust.

  ‘It’s not like that, Ish. It’s complicated.’ But she wasn’t listening, she was working a hole in her tooth with her tongue where her pill must have been.

  ‘What about you?’ I asked her to take her mind off the pill. ‘What’s your prize, Ishbel?’

  She smiled – I’d broken the spell. ‘I still can’t get used to you calling me Ishbel. It was always ‘native, do this and that.’ Or ‘you’re in trouble, missy.’’

  Dawdle grinned and I felt my ears pink.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘I’m just not used to being asked. I think it is the first time anyone has considered what I want.’

  ‘Aw, come on, Ish,’ Dawdle protested. ‘Ah’ve been ferrying ye about aw over the shop.’

  She ignored him and turned her amber eyes on me. ‘I want to finish what Vanora started. When she returned to these shores from the Northern Territories she had it all planned. Her stash of gold and precious stones to finance her operation. She systematically recruited and set up her covert cells, found the best native brains credit could buy. She established Freedom as her base and managed a network of domestic natives to feed her hidden army. It took her five years to set up but she was focused and never wavered from that task. She knew what she had to do and did it.’

  ‘So what went wrong?’ I asked, remembering the unpredictable megalomaniac that I’d witnessed. ‘The network is a shambles; cells festering all over the country, waiting and waiting for a day that never came. No wonder The Prince was able to scoop it up.’

  Ishbel nodded. ‘The problem is Vanora herself, she’s a great organiser, and great on a small scale, but it all grew too big. She’s a rubbish leader. She thought she needed to rule by The Art of War – always. Sometimes that might be necessary but most people were eager to get behind the cause. She made some mistakes. She put Merj in charge of operations.’ Her face soured at the mention of Merj. I knew how she felt. ‘When the Blue Pearl fanatics began to treat her as a celebrity she enjoyed it too much. She used to be in broadcasting, she always enjoyed the limelight.’

  I remembered the T-map Vanora sent us with the plan of the prison break. It was pure theatre, but at least that worked.

  ‘Vanora is and always will be a showwoman, which is fine in its place but she made too many mistakes. Many of the operations she ordered were not thought through and harmed natives on the ground.’

  ‘Some were disasters,’ Dawdle chipped in. ‘Ah remem…’

  ‘Enough….’ And he shut it. ‘You can’t take the network she set up from her.’ Ishbel continued. ‘Many natives would not have their freedom or even lives if she hadn’t acted when no one else did. We can’t let The Prince waltz in and take that from her. She deserves her place. And she’s my mother.’

  ‘What about Kenneth?’ She knew what I meant. By forcing Ridgeway to come with us for no apparent reason she had signed his death warrant and probably killed Kenneth with grief.

  ‘She didn’t know that was going to happen. We all take risks coming from Freedom. As I say, she makes mistakes. You asked what I want so there you have it.’

  ‘It sounds like we all want the same thing,’ Dawdle said. ‘So in that
case this should be easy.’

  The hooded figure stationed on the jetty caught the rope and helped guide us in. He wore standard native civvies. I’d expected some sort of uniform to be worn by The Prince’s guards. Vanora had insisted everyone in her network wear uniforms to give the impression of an army.

  The rain was relentless. As we left the hatch the man hurried forward to help us up the slippery stone steps to a waiting three-wheeled buggy.

  I dared a shuftie up at the penitentiary I’d been incarcerated in for months. From the sea it looked like a ruin. A castle crown perched on a mound with the penitentiary hidden underground.

  There were many ways into the prison. When Ishbel had transported me here we had landed on the H pad and I entered through a roof door to descend that awful spiral stairway into the prison. The times when I’d been allowed out with Ridgeway, we’d gone from the corridor of my cell out onto the cliff face. The last time I had entered I’d shucked up a cooling water pipe into the reactor room. This time the guard who met us at the jetty trundled the buggy over a rough track towards huge gates that swung open on our approach. As we passed through I realised what a truly impressive castle this must have once been. The buggy stopped in a courtyard.

  ‘We’re being taken to a royal court,’ I said. ‘I remember from taught history of long gone monarchs. Is this what The Prince is about? Reliving the past?’ Although I felt calm Ishbel took my hands to stop my worry wart scratching.

  ‘We’ll soon find out if it is a court,’ she said. But it fitted the name and the use of chess pieces to send the message. More drama and symbolism, just like Vanora.

  A thin light sliced into the rain-drenched darkness to welcome us. The smells of peat fire and a Monday morning soup pot filled the space.