‘Why do you persist with this?’
‘As if you have to ask,’ Charlotte spat.
‘What have I ever done to lose your trust?’
‘What have you done? How can you forget? You —’
The elder Betts raised her hand, seemingly to slap her daughter, but she just meant to cut the flow of Charlotte’s railing. When she spoke again, her voice was perfectly calm. ‘My darling, I know why it is you are upset with me, but I do not agree that you have justification.’
‘How can you talk to me like this? I am your daughter.’
‘I know. And it is because I love you that I am trying to help.’
‘When you say it that way, it sounds so warm and caring.’
‘You wouldn’t believe it no matter how I said it. Would you?’
Charlotte held her tongue.
‘I thought not.’
‘Mother, let’s just start over. Just pretend it never happened.’
‘No.’ She took the cane from beside the table and stood up, using it to strike the floor to emphasise her points. ‘Bettses do not ignore their problems.’ Tap. ‘We talk them through until they are worked out, or we part ways until you are ready.’
Charlotte knew Max wouldn’t want her to leave. It would look bad. Very bad. The same people who supported her crossed over with the Civilisation Society, BARD and all the other fuddly groups Ellizabeth was a part of. Her mother was staring at her with the fierce judgement she remembered. The woman could see everything she had ever done wrong.
‘Why did you let them use me?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Was it my place to stop them?’
‘Yes. Mothers are meant to protect their children.’
‘I tried to teach you everything you would need.’
‘But you knew what was happening.’
‘Of course I did. But you had accepted your Citizenship. I had to respect your right to choose.’
‘Because it helped you.’
‘Your choices are and were your own. You took those men to your bed willingly.’
‘But you knew and you didn’t stop it. You didn’t stop me.’
‘You are right. I never would stop you doing anything. To remove the agency of another human being is uncivilised. That is the basis of our society.’
‘And your beliefs were more important than protecting your daughter?’
‘Yes, my darling, they were, and still are. Even after you left my house and you ... you went rampant, you were still expecting me to step in and stop you, but I could not.’
‘You could have.’
‘But then you wouldn’t be responsible for your own actions. Don’t you know how much it hurt me to see what you were doing to yourself?’ Charlotte’s head was spinning. Was her mother right? She felt the old anger inside her, but now couldn’t be sure when it had started.
This was how she’d changed since becoming part of the Primacy. For so long she’d blamed her mother for not controlling her, but now she realised she agreed with her.
‘You wanted me to control you and when I wouldn’t you went looking for others. People like Max. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the mother you wanted, but I had to let you make your own choices.’
Charlotte couldn’t look at her. She bent forward and began crying into her skirt. She felt her mother’s arms encircle her.
‘It will be alright, Charlotte. It doesn’t matter now.’ She hadn’t heard her mother’s voice so soft since she was a child.
‘I should go out,’ her mother said after a while. ‘Should I leave you here for a bit?’
Charlotte nodded. ‘Thank you, Mother. Yes. A moment to myself would be good.’
‘Okay, dear.’ Ellizabeth took up her cane once more and stood by her daughter. ‘I really am glad we are speaking again. I’m thinking of being rejuvenated.’
~ * ~
It took Charlotte a moment to recover. She let the servitor bring her food and drinks and then adjusted her hair and make-up. She didn’t want the world to know she had been crying.
When she returned to the ruins the music was still playing and the glitterati still turned in their circles. The night was yet young but she didn’t want to stay any longer.
‘Representative Betts? I wasn’t sure you would be here.’
She turned to the voice. It was a young, pale-haired man in full Services uniform and a chest loaded with decorations. She looked at his face, the blue eyes ... ‘Colonel Pinter?’
‘Ah, you recognised me.’
‘Shouldn’t you be in Busan?’
‘One doesn’t reject an invitation from Ellizabeth Betts. You seem to know that as well as I.’ He then became the second man to wink at her that night. ‘They have me if they need me.’ He tapped the symbiot under his jacket. ‘Let me introduce my companion. Gretel, this is Charlotte Betts, Primacy Representative. Miz Betts, this is Gretel Lang.’
‘How very nice to meet you.’ The two shook hands politely. Gretel was a stunning young lady, with an expression of such calm it was disconcerting.
Pinter leant in close to explain. ‘I met her in rejuv.’
‘Ah. Well.’ Charlotte looked back and forth from one to the other. ‘I’m not sure what to say.’
‘Say it was meant to be.’ The Colonel grinned. He beckoned a waiter close and made each of them take a fresh glass. ‘To new life,’ he toasted. Gretel and Charlotte clinked glasses obediently. ‘Now, Charlotte, do you mind if I leave Gretel with you? She doesn’t know anyone here and I must say hello to a few old sparring partners. I’m quite enjoying watching their faces fall when they see mine.’
‘Of course ...’ The Colonel was gone and she was left facing his companion.
‘I was hoping to meet you,’ Gretel said. We have a lot to talk about.
Charlotte’s surprise made her choke on her champagne. The other woman patted her on the back. Please try not to react. ‘Are you alright? Should I get you some water?’ she asked.
‘No. Thank you. I’m fine.’
Try to act natural. ‘I’m a big supporter of yours. I back every motion.’
‘That’s very nice of you.’
‘As are my friends.’ Gretel waited for Charlotte to meet her gaze again.
‘Who are your friends?’
‘Nobody special, nobody who would get invited to a party like this.’ I speak for Tamsin Grey. My name is La Gréle. ‘I wondered if I could talk to you sometime about helping more. Ever since I was rejuvenated I’ve had so much energy.’ Please, Representative. We need your help.
‘Of course. We can arrange an appointment.’
‘You’re right. This isn’t the best place to talk, is it? Quite overwhelming.’
‘Yes, a little.’
‘I won’t bother you any more then, but I thank you for your time. It looks like the speeches are about to start.’ Gretel went to rejoin Colonel Pinter and Charlotte looked at the pair of them until the other guests began chiming their glasses.
Ellizabeth’s aide helped her step up onto a weathered block that raised her just slightly above the crowd. Charlotte could barely see her over the heads of the tallest men.
Ellizabeth spoke confidently into the floating microphone. ‘Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. I thank you all so much for coming and hope you are having a marvellous time. You honour me.’ The crowd raised their glasses again and cheered until she raised her hands for silence.
‘The reason I chose to hold this celebration here was not to show you something that was older than I am.’ The crowd tittered at the small joke. ‘No, the real reason was that I wanted to share with you a story that took place right where we are standing.
‘These ruins were once a hotel. People came here with their families and their romances. They came to places like this to remove themselves from their everyday lives so they could enjoy what was most important to them.’ She looked over the gathering, including everyone. Her gaze stopped on Charlotte. She h
ad heard this story before.
‘When the continent fell under the chaos a small group of staff and guests managed to hide here and survive. The mountains kept most of the troubles from reaching these heights until the Örjians came from the west, sweeping everything before them.
‘In this hotel, where we are standing, the Örjians arrived as they did everywhere. The story goes that the survivors living here were gathered in the courtyard, just behind us there.’ Ellizabeth raised an arm to indicate the flat area behind the crowd, where the light dimmed into darkness.
‘They were given an ultimatum: to live they would have to fight each other, as only one would be allowed to join the horde. And so the people fought. They either fought or were killed. By the end there were only two left. A man — who had seen his wife and children degraded and dismembered, a man who had just killed the friends he had been living with for years — and a young girl. She was barely two years old and no one had touched her during the fighting. The man had to decide whether it was worse for the child to die or for her to live and be raised by the Örjians.’
Her voice floated into the dark place behind them and they waited for her to continue. She looked over their heads to the darkness of the old courtyard.
‘What a terrible choice it must have been.’
‘What happened?’ somebody asked.
‘The story doesn’t say what happened. Or rather, I’ve heard it ended in different ways.’
Those in the crowd could feel the scene standing behind them. They had been drilled with fear for the Örjian horde, the eugenetics and splicer clones. Ellizabeth Betts left them to their thoughts for only a moment.
‘I apologise for telling this rather morbid tale on this night of celebration, but I tell it because there is much to celebrate. Life is a precious thing, which is to say life isn’t merely valuable; it is to say that life is fragile. Life is precarious. We can never forget what it is to be human and civilised. That is why I would like us all to raise our glasses to my daughter — who, despite everything that is happening in the world, has not forgotten that what makes life precious is more than just being alive. Thank you, Charlotte. Your gift of hope is the best present a centenarian could receive.’
The crowd raised their glasses.
~ * ~
The party did well for both Charlotte and Max. His rank brought him into the top 0.5 making him a candidate for the Primacy, and she had the potential to become Prime if she wished it.
Charlotte was quiet beside him on the flight home, nibbling at her bottom lip.
‘What’s wrong? Didn’t you have a good time?’
‘It was fine, I’m just thinking.’
‘You seemed to make up with your mother. I’d say that went very well.’
‘Yes. Yes. I did what you wanted.’
‘Then what is it?’
She nodded and smiled patiently at him. ‘Nothing, Max. I’m just composing.’
I have struggled, in this week of tragedy, to find a topic worthy of discussion. Tonight I was reminded of something. To control another is to remove their humanity. We have segregated the psis in fear that they would remove our control, but in doing so we have committed that very crime against them. How dare we judge them by the reactions we have provoked?
Max opened his mouth to speak. ‘Shush, darling, I’ll share it with you when it’s ready.’
When she returned to her apartment she stood before the mirror and quietly pinned a badge to her collar, a simple cloth circle with the white forked Y of the psis.
~ * ~
Atlantic was one of the biggest ecosystems in the world. It, like all the megacities of Earth, was encapsulated by the habitation, farming and industrial territory it required to maintain itself. It had many parts, as it had been born of older cities, some of which connected, many which didn’t.
The World Union had no sustained presence in the Cape. There was no centralised planning, no major transport, no single government. Each area looked after itself and protected its territory. Dozens of despots — alternatively called chiefs, bosses or mayors — ruled over small built-up areas and controlled tracts of farming land around the city to feed their people.
This had been the way of Atlantic for a long time, and the situation hadn’t changed with the coming of the psi rebellion. Each of these chiefs had been vying against each other for decades. James Reay, Hilary Carlton, Nathan Cusf and Teddy Bleech were low-ranking landholders who used their supply chains as leverage with the bigger chiefs — Lior Ligure and Boris Arkady. Freddy ‘Froggy’ Klinski had been considered the third big chief until much of his territory had been taken over by Chiggy’s benders; now he was hovering in a middle tier of power.
Doctor Salvator smoothed his hair back and looked around the table. Tamsin and La Gréle had nominated him as the speaker for the psis since the norms didn’t like being around telepaths. The reward for his good standing in the community.
It had taken a whole day just to agree on a location for the meeting, as none would meet on another’s territory, and nor would they come near the psi headquarters. Now they had been in the room for three hours and made zero progress.
‘You want something from me? How about I get something from you? That’s how trade works,’ Froggy said. He wore heavy chains of gold and gems over a high-necked metallic skivvy.
‘What can we give you?’ Sal asked, not for the first time. He reached for the jug of water and refilled his glass.
‘The benders have taken my buildings. I demand to have them back.’
‘We can’t give them back. We do not speak for the benders,’ Sal patiently repeated.
‘Then I want new buildings.’ Froggy pushed at the maps that were spread on the table.
‘I’m sure something can be arranged, but what are you offering us?’
‘Whoa, whoa. Hold your deal there, Sal,’ Boris interrupted. He was in a white suit with a lurid shirt bright enough to outshine his mirror teeth. ‘It don’t work like that. You can’t dole out territory without asking the rest of us first. Don’t throw the weight around, it’s irresponsible.’
‘There’s plenty of disused territory. Would that satisfy you, Freddy?’ Sal asked.
‘Hold on, now, I said,’ Boris interrupted again. ‘Froggy here is playing you. He only had plastics before. He’s just using this excuse to get a free upgrade to solids. Don’t let him sucker you, Sal.’
Sal turned to the man with the mirrored mouth. ‘Can you offer something better, Boris? You know what we need.’
‘Food and water. I have the most of both.’
‘So what will it take for you to supply us?’ he asked.
Boris leant back in his chair and pursed his lips. His teeth glinted out from beneath his cold smile. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to help you. I do, but what guarantee can you give me? The benders took Froggy’s buildings, what’s to stop them taking mine?’
‘Tamsin won’t let that happen.’
‘Are you saying, then, that she let it happen the first time? Can she really control this Chiggy so much?’
‘Yes.’
Boris laughed, softly in his chest. ‘Perhaps I should say that again. Will she control him?’ Salvator was slow to answer and the room felt the truth out for itself. ‘You see? It is my understanding that Chiggy doesn’t talk to tappers either. None of you have even met with him yet, have you?’
‘Not face to face,’ Sal admitted.
There had always been rumours of this Chiggy. A bender so powerful he hadn’t had any need to move since he was a boy. If he wanted something, he made it come to him.
Legend had it that Chiggy was so fat he could barely move his body. He lived in a bed on a mobile floor that he levitated with his mind.
When Atlantic had been declared a psi freedom zone he had emerged, claiming a huge area and blocking it off to telepaths. He was now Chiggy of Chiggy’s Arena where the benders fought. He used his powers to instil fea
r in his followers. If that didn’t work, he crushed their skulls and let it be a lesson to others.
Tamsin and Chiggy had been communicating on paper that was couriered back and forth by messengers. As strong as they both were, they could not trust the other to meet without attacking.
‘Have you met him?’ Sal asked.
‘No,’ Boris said, ‘but I speak with his associates. The benders are the real power in the Cape now, not the tappers. I think I’ll deal with Chiggy. He needs food too.’
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