Sala rose, stood to attention, and stared silently straight ahead. Walker glanced at Hail, who nodded imperceptibly.
‘Please sit. Don’t make me order you to sit … Thank you. Now, if you won’t advise me what to do about Holland, perhaps you’ll tell me why not.’
‘He’s your friend. Your partner in revolution. You can —’
‘“Revolution” is not my preferred word for what we did.’
‘Fair enough. But it’s my word.’
‘It was more like a resuscitation.’
‘Whatever. It was great, whatever word you use. We’re here, aren’t we? And he’s your man from back then. He helped you save the world, or whatever the hell this place is. You decide what to do with him. Don’t use me for cover.’
If Walker hadn’t been so dizzy, he would have stood up at that moment, as a mark of respect for Sala. ‘Good for you,’ he said instead.
Sala gazed at Walker’s face, and then dropped her eyes to his stomach. She stretched a hand out towards him. Hail jumped between them, a stun gun drawn.
Walker reached out and pushed Hail’s arm aside. ‘It’s okay.’
‘No,’ Hail said. ‘Boss, no.’
‘Step back. She needs to see. She needs to understand. She needs to know the truth if she’s going to do this.’
‘If she’s going to do what?’ Hail said.
‘If I’m going to take Holland’s job,’ Sala said. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. And no,’ Walker said. He looked at Hail, who, although shocked, nodded spontaneously.
Sala pulled on the zip of Walker’s shirt and then yanked the shirt off him. Walker tried, but failed, to hide the pain she caused him.
‘Fuck. Me,’ Sala said.
She pushed the table out of the way, dropped to one knee, and rested her palm on Walker’s pot belly. She made a fist and tapped his flesh. She put her damaged ear against it, listening to his innards moan. She moved her attention from sore to sore, examining, touching, sniffing. Finally, she examined his face. With one calloused finger, she rubbed one of his cheeks until she exposed a raw blister.
‘So now you know,’ Hail said.
‘She already knew,’ Walker said. ‘Didn’t you?’
‘Everybody who sees you — on a screen, even — would know, if they only chose to look,’ Sala said.
‘Except,’ Hail said, ‘I’m pretty sure Holland doesn’t know.’
Sala turned her head to the side and rubbed her damaged face all over Walker’s face. When she was done, she took a step back, hope in her eyes.
‘I felt nothing. Nothing at all,’ Walker said. ‘But I appreciate the gesture.’
‘And I thought I had problems,’ Sala said.
Hail barked a laugh.
***
Grainy lay in his hospital bed, starving and surrounded by starvation. The patches stuck all over his body vibrated war footage directly onto and through his skin. Autoscreens sat at all angles, crowding him, running images of battles continually. The screen in his clearest line of sight, if only he could have forced his eyes open, switched from a battle scene to vision of a little boy standing outside a closed door. Every few seconds — or was it the same image, repeated? — the boy pushed against the door, but it never opened. All of it — the battles, the boy — was futile.
Grainy let out the deepest, longest sigh. One of his bare arms fell limp by the side of the bed. He sighed again, as if mildly irritated, and died. A nurse came, accompanied by a film crew that recorded the nurse easing back the sheet and peeling the patches from Grainy’s skin. The head doctor came next. She held Grainy’s hand for a time.
‘Leave that for now,’ she said to the orderlies, who were preparing to wipe the body with cloths. ‘I think this one warrants an autopsy.’
Only then, after a respectful time, after the nurse and the orderlies had backed away, giving Grainy a moment free of all help, did the war footage and the boy on the autoscreens fade away to nothing.
***
‘Should I strip?’ Sala asked. She stood in Curtin’s examination room, wedged between the autopsy room and the operating theatre, on the fringe of the maze that was Walker Compound.
‘There’s really no need,’ Curtin said. ‘Cleave finally had the water tested. It won’t cause you any lasting harm, though I wouldn’t go washing in the stuff.’
‘But did it get inside me?’
‘I wouldn’t worry, given the amount of Grand Lake dust you’ve breathed in over the years. Keep an eye on your skin.’
‘Will it impact my tumours? Should I increase my treatment?’
‘Look: from what I understand, you’ll be needing a clear head to worry about the things that need worrying about.’
‘You’ve heard, then?’
‘Your problem, Commander Sala, is not that the water that touched you last night was dirty. Your problem is that it was clean. Well, relatively clean. Cleave says they must be treating it somehow, which means they’re more organised than we thought, which means there’s more of them, which means —’
‘Is Walker dying? Will you take over?’
‘How’s that scar feeling?’
‘How long has he got?’
‘Does it stretch here?’ Curtin prodded Sala’s face and then shone a probe. ‘Fascinating.’
‘If that water really is safe. I mean, if you know it’s safe, and you’re treating Walker and God knows who else for this wasting disease, then why aren’t you out standing in the rain, growing plants? What’s stopping you?’
‘That’s the question, isn’t it?’ Curtin said. She turned her attention to the side of Sala’s face. ‘This ear: can you hear out of it?’
***
‘Why did you do it?’ Hail said to Holland. ‘I can’t believe you. After everything we’ve achieved.’
‘Sorry to have disappointed you,’ Holland said.
‘No, you’re not.’
‘All right now,’ Curtin said. ‘I’m sure we can keep it friendly.’
Walker, Hail, and Curtin sat on one side of a table in the interview room at Walker Compound. Walker sat in the middle, sagging at times towards Curtin, at times towards Hail. Holland sat on the other side, resting his arms on the cool plastic surface.
‘Do you three go everywhere together these days? Safety in numbers, eh?’ Holland said.
‘I’m a history buff,’ Curtin said, giving Holland a wink. ‘I wouldn’t miss this moment for anything.’
‘Why?’ Hail said again. ‘Come on. Give us something to work with.’
‘What difference does it make?’ Holland replied. ‘Why are you even bothering to ask?’
‘I’m trying to help you.’
‘No, you’re not. Anyway, I don’t need your help. Don’t need it, don’t want it … What’s going to happen to Dinn? Where is she?’
‘Ah, so you do need our help?’ Hail said.
‘I’m just seeking information,’ Holland said. ‘She can look after herself.’
‘Well, she’s fine, since you ask for information. Her lodgings are bordering on the salubrious.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘She’s not in any danger,’ Walker said softly. ‘There’s no need for concern.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Holland replied. ‘But I’d still like the details.’
‘Speaking of information: who is it? Best you just tell us now, and we’ll do what we can to help,’ Hail said.
‘Who is what?’
‘Enough of these games. Who’s starving?’
‘He’s very agitated today, isn’t he?’ Holland said to Walker and Curtin.
‘He misses you already,’ Curtin said.
‘It’s not your sister, she must be fit as a fiddle if she’s wandering around breaking into hospitals and —’
�
��Her name’s Dinn. And you’ve got no business calling that place a hospital.’
‘Seen inside it, have you?’ Hail said.
‘What does the expression “fit as a fiddle” even mean, do you think?’ Walker said.
‘Something about survival of the fittest,’ Curtin replied.
‘Is it your mother?’ Hail said.
‘Are you kidding? She’s the best eater in Rise. No one gets to live as long as she’s lived. She loves her battle scenes, although it’s true that she still talks about pepperoni pizza all the time. Drives the grandkids crazy, or so I’m reliably informed. As you’d understand, I don’t get home much.’ He looked at Walker. ‘Do we really need this charade? Haven’t I served you faithfully all this time?’
‘You have.’
‘And I’d do it all again tomorrow, for the right reasons. I don’t see why we need to put ourselves through all this.’
‘I know,’ Walker said. ‘I agree. But, look, indulge us. Hail needs this. Give him something so he doesn’t feel so bad about losing you.’
‘Hey, I’m here in the room. I can hear you,’ Hail said. ‘Am I the only person taking any of this seriously. What’s the name of that man you were seeing? Is he the hungry one?’
‘Who, Goldworth? I haven’t talked to him in years. He’s probably dead.’ To Walker he said, ‘He told me to choose between him and you. I chose you. But you know all this. Ancient history.’
‘And you chose well,’ Walker said.
‘I don’t know about that,’ Curtin murmured. ‘But he chose right.’
‘And you can choose right again,’ Hail said. ‘It’s not too late. Help us shut this thing down before —’
‘No. You’re looking to make sense of the situation from your perspective, which means you’re looking at it all wrong. And you’re fishing for information. I appreciate that. But I believe what I believe,’ Holland said. ‘Believe that, and move on.’
‘That’s it. That’s the truth,’ Curtin said to Hail. ‘He’s doing it because he’s following his convictions, like he always has. If that doesn’t make you okay about all this, nothing will. He’s doing it because he’s a soldier.’
‘Or he was,’ Hail said.
‘Oh, he’s more of a soldier today than he’s ever been,’ Walker said. ‘He’s just not our soldier. But he’s still clever. Smart. Loyal.’
‘Handsome. Virile,’ Holland added.
‘Brave, within limits,’ Walker said.
‘I just … I don’t understand. I can’t understand. How can you be so okay about this?’ Hail said to Walker. ‘And you too?’ he said to Curtin.
‘Would it help if you beat me up a bit?’ Holland suggested. ‘Throw a punch or two.’
Holland wanted to squeeze some jolliness out of Hail, so they could finish on good terms. Hail seemed to need it. But Holland was perplexed by Walker, who was seemingly so relaxed, so unfussed, and Curtin, so obviously amused. Walker had some new plan afoot — Holland could see it in his yellow eyes — and this plan, whatever is was, already involved him. Holland wasn’t sure he was ready to have his dissent, his autonomy, his free will, given in service to Walker yet again.
‘What do you think?’ Walker said. ‘Should we torture him a bit?’
‘It might be fun,’ Curtin said.
‘No!’ Hail said. ‘Not unless you think it’s … absolutely necessary.’
‘Well, you might find it therapeutic. Nothing too awful. Maybe rip out a couple of his fingernails,’ Walker said.
‘Pull my earlobes,’ Holland said.
‘You’re teasing me now. Stop it.’
‘I’ve got a loose tooth. Why not yank it out for me?’
‘I’ll do it. Don’t think I won’t.’
‘Okay, enough,’ Walker said, suddenly ready for the charade to be over. ‘I owe you a hell of a lot, Willy, but —’
‘I wish you wouldn’t call him th—’
‘— but you always had lousy timing. You always were impatient. So be it, soldier.’ He nodded to Hail. ‘Time to sentence him.’
Hail switched into formal mode, and immediately felt more at ease. ‘Stand, Commander Holland.’
Holland and Walker both stood to attention, although Walker did so with some effort. Curtin kept her seat. Hail looked at Walker for directions. It was Hail’s job to pronounce the sentence while Walker looked on impassively. But Hail had no idea what the sentence was.
‘Commander Holland, this tribunal finds you guilty of treason,’ Walker said, taking up the slack. ‘You are stripped of your rank and dishonourably discharged, effective immediately. You will be imprisoned for the remainder of your life. Do you understand, prisoner?’
‘I understand.’
Hail and Holland embraced, and then Hail fled the room. Curtin gripped Holland’s shoulders, squeezed them hard. Their foreheads merged as they leant against each other.
‘Be merciful to us,’ Curtin whispered to him, ‘when you win.’
She turned and left, and the doors closed behind her.
‘You shouldn’t have made Hail sit through that,’ Holland said to Walker.
‘He needed it. And you needed to put up with him needing it.’
Holland and Walker stood and embraced. But then Holland pulled Walker close and started scrabbling with his shirt. Armed guards stormed the room, followed by Hail. Walker, calm but exasperated, waved them out of the room.
‘Let me see it,’ Holland said. ‘I deserve to see it.’
With a nod, Walker unzipped himself, exposing his stomach. Holland reached out but could not bring himself to touch.
‘What’s it like to feel nothing?’
‘Curtin tells me I’m feeling something. Not much, but something. Otherwise, I’d have been dead months ago. And Hail keeps trying to find new food for me. But it’s getting worse. It’s only a matter of time.’
‘I wish … I wish it wasn’t happening.’
‘Don’t kid yourself that you’re doing this for me.’
‘Don’t flatter yourself. I’m doing it for all of us. For the people. I knew there was something wrong with you. But until today, I never dreamed …’
‘Well, now you can do it for the great citizenry of Shine. Barton has a job for you, if you’d like to take it. What do you say?’
‘I say I like to make my own decisions.’
‘Fair enough. You can choose prison. I won’t make you fight for what you claim to believe in.’
Holland smiled, a little defeated, a little victorious. ‘I said I like to make my own decisions,’ he said. ‘But I didn’t say I believed I’d actually get the chance to.’
‘Good.’ Walker spoke into his wearable: ‘Are you there, Commander? Are you close? … Good. The prisoner is ready for transportation. I’d like you to take care of it yourself. In the way we discussed.’
A moment later, Sala entered the room. Holland stood momentarily stunned, but quickly recovered himself.
‘Sergeant Sala, it’s good to see you back in action.’
‘It’s Commander Sala,’ Walker said.
‘Ah, I see. I had high hopes for you. I was right.’
‘Yeah, it’s all about you and your fabulous judgement of people,’ Sala said. ‘I always worried that you were down-to-earth when you needed to dream, and that you were in a world of your own when you needed to knuckle down and get the job done. I was right.’
‘Yes, you probably were.’
‘Five deaths in a month. Are you proud of that? What a start! Will you be proud of five million? Fifty million? Will you grow prouder and prouder each time somebody drops dead in a muddy ditch? Will it make you stand tall?’
‘She can be a touch righteous, don’t you think?’ Holland said to Walker.
‘Damned straight,’ Sala said.
‘Well, you’ve made a
grand choice,’ Holland said.
‘She chose herself,’ Walker said.
‘And I’m still here in the room,’ Sala said, ‘living and breathing and listening to the two of you old men chattering away like I’m a fucking ghost.’
***
Dinn’s cell was roomy, the plastic bricks soft. And the guards were treating her well enough: politeness, armchairs, and no tough questions. They’d supplied her with cleaning cloths morning and night. Her mattress was comfortable enough. The military police — a different nondescript pair each time — had visited several times. She’d expected thugs, but all of them were bland and chatty, as if they were stopping by to make sure she wasn’t too mad at them. None of them had pressed her for details of some grand plot. Perhaps, she thought, they believed that they already knew everything. And perhaps they did.
Despite their politeness — because of it — she didn’t trust the military police. She’d asked them more than once what they were planning to do to her. Each time, they’d smiled in unhuman unison, as if their jaws were linked. She wondered if they were robots. She wondered, mostly, if they knew that she was Holland’s sister. But she couldn’t think of a safe way to ask.
As she sat pondering her options — she had none, she concluded, other than to sit and wait — an autoscreen appeared before her.
‘Thank you, but I’m not hungry,’ she said quietly, assuming her cell was wired.
‘I encourage you to watch and learn,’ an unfamiliar voice replied. Someone, she thought, who sounded important. And self-important.
‘Might I ask who I am talking to?’ Dinn asked.
‘My name isn’t important,’ Hail replied, ‘but I’m one of your brother’s oldest friends.’
‘Oh, shit,’ she muttered. ‘Oh no.’
‘Your secret is not known to the prison authorities. Or to your friends, though they wouldn’t think any less of you,’ Hail said. ‘Please watch the screen. Please watch and learn.’
On the autoscreen in Dinn’s cell, footage ran of twenty or so people, all with distended bellies, lying in their beds in a hospital ward. The image then moved forward in time: the same people now sat up in their beds, the glow of life evident in their skin. A couple of them were even able to stand unaided. All of the patients were eating plants: a cucumber here, an apple there. Dinn could see that the plants were props. They were too perfectly proportioned, too shiny, too healthy, like the pictures in Old Time books.
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