Cardinal, (Citizen Saga, Book 2)

by Claire, Nicola

  I wondered if Wang Chao was aware of this.

  We sat and drinks were brought, which I pretended to consume. More chance of not recovering swiftly if I indulged in alcohol. The food I couldn't ignore. I needed sustenance. I had to only hope Wang Chao had no intention of keeping me drugged. But as the luncheon had no effect on me other than refuelling, I thought perhaps eating the sumptuous meal before me was all right.

  "Here's to us," Wang Chao announced part way through the meal. He raised his glass, forcing me to do the same, although I held his gaze with a hard one.

  "You assume a lot, Wang Chao," I tried, unable to hold my tongue any longer.

  "Only what is right," he countered in fully supercilious tones.

  We clinked glasses and I pretended to drink. Placing the wine back on the table I asked, "What did Harjeet receive for me?"

  Wang Chao lifted his eyes from the fork he held suspended before his lips.

  "Why do you insist on knowing this?"

  "I'm curious as to my worth."

  "You are priceless." It should have meant something. But coming from him it was hollow.

  "What did you give him, Wang Chao? He cannot be trusted." If the Chief Overseer thought I was concerned with his safety, or the safety of his Wánměi, then he might confide.

  "He had something of mine," Wang Chao replied steadily, "that I wanted. I paid a price, that is all."

  He wasn't going to divulge his secrets, but I could hazard a guess. Harjeet wanted access to what was on that flash-drive. Enough to throw caution to the wind and sell the rebels out. I'd thought Harjeet on the side of the revolution, helping to free an imprisoned Wánměi. But I'd also known he was a businessman. Whatever was on that flash-drive was worth more than a liberated Wánměi.

  The possibilities were frightening.

  "Are your quarters to your liking?" Wang Chao asked, just as a drone approached from the corner of the room. He held up a hand to stall my answer, which was probably just as well; it would have been scathing. And turned his attention to the drone.

  "Chief Overseer," the drone announced. "We have a situation."

  "Where?" Wang Chao asked.

  "In Muh Gareh," the Shiloh voiced drone replied. "The rebels."

  My heart skittered inside my chest, I worked hard not show the elation on my face. The drone watched me, but Wang Chao was already standing from the table, throwing his napkin down on the seat he'd just vacated.

  "Take Selena to her quarters. I'll deal with this," he announced. Then he took a step away, only to stop and spin back toward me.

  I'd also risen from my seat, so when he approached we were face to face. He reached out and took my cold fingers in his hands, rubbing his thumbs, in a move that seemed instinctive, over the frozen digits.

  "Stay in your room. You'll be safe there. Muh Gareh is some distance away, but I'd like to know you are secure."

  I searched his eyes, wondering if the cold darkness I saw there meant Trent's death. Dread was no longer unknown to me. But the dread I felt at Trent's potential demise was entirely too vivid. Soul destroying even.

  "Will you be long?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "I'll try to return to you tonight."

  Not an answer I wanted, but he bent his head, brushed foreign lips against mine, and strode from the room. Leaving me alone with the drone.

  I waited, after returning to my quarters, for Wang Chao to return. The Shiloh unit mounted on the wall refusing to give me vid-screen status. Not daring to pull my Shiloh out and attempt to see what was happening outside these walls. By midnight I allowed myself to sleep.

  When I awoke in the morning the first thing I did was ask the drone at my door if the Chief Overseer had returned. The reply was not welcome, but at least telling.

  "He will be here for you at nine, Honourable Selena Carstairs," came the oh so helpful reply.

  At eight a drone appeared to assist me to dress. I ordered it from the room, thankful it complied.

  At nine Wang Chao knocked on the door. Dressed in a different but no less beautiful suit, this time a tie that matched the colour of my eyes. He swept his gaze over my dress, but seemed to accept my choice, and offered me an arm to take.

  "Where are we going?" I asked, slipping my hand onto his forearm, knowing resisting would be futile.

  "A walk in the gardens. There are no storms forecast for today," he announced.

  Getting outside could prove helpful, seeing the Palace from a different angle could provide necessary intel in order to escape. So I kept up with his brisk pace through the hallways, trying to decide how to ask about last night.

  "You didn't come to me," I tried.

  I felt him jolt slightly, his body jerking with surprise.

  "I wanted to," he admitted. "But it was late when I returned."

  "A long night," I offered.

  "Yes."

  "Did you get them?" I asked, holding my breath.

  "Selena," he said steely. "You will not concern yourself with them again."

  This time the dread almost made me stumble. I certainly didn't see the beautiful blooms in front of my eyes as we walked through an orchid grove. Nor hear the plethora of jewel-toned birds as they sang above our heads.

  We'd made it to the lake, swans gently gliding over its serene surface, when I was sure I could speak without giving myself away.

  "What are your plans for the rest of the day?" I asked, trying to determine when would be best to attempt an escape.

  "I intend to spend the day with my betrothed."

  All day?

  "Tonight," he added, "we dine with my council." The Overseers. "It is time they were made aware of your return to me."

  I wondered if he still answered to them. He clearly hadn't informed them I was back at the Palace. And it had appeared, in Overseer Markhams' suite at The Quay, that Wang Chao simply wiped any opposition they presented on that front. More and more like his father as the time passed.

  "How many Overseers has Wánměi?" I asked.

  "Enough," he said softly. "For now."

  I wanted to ask more, but a drone appeared around the edge of the lake, coming to stop in front of us.

  "What is it?" Wang Chao asked, frustration evident in his tone.

  "Epsom," the Shiloh controlled drone advised. "A sighting, Chief Overseer."

  Wang Chao let out a harsh breath of air, then turned and looked down at me.

  "I have to deal with this," he started.

  "What is it?" Anger marred his once handsome face.

  "Nothing for you to worry about. Stay indoors." And then he was gone.

  Leaving me alone with Shiloh.

  "The rebels?" I asked, hope warring with angst inside my heart.

  "The rebels, Honourable Selena Carstairs."

  It was the first time I truly believed that Shiloh's endgame was positively different from Wang Chao's.

  The night dinner started out laboriously. Fine china, heavy crystal, a feast fit for a king. I smiled when spoken to. I demurred to Wang Chao when a question was asked. I performed as an Elite consort should.

  My father's oldest friend had informed me, upon a brief private moment when I'd appeared, that the rebels had escaped. I didn't look at him now as he sat across and down the long ornate table we ate at. Bringing our connection to light right then, with drones surrounding the four walls of the banquet hall and Wang Chao watching my every move, would not be wise.

  But we had friends in the Overseers. Hope replaced dread, but didn't quite alleviate the angst.

  "A toast," Wang Chao suddenly announced. "To my bride!"

  All the Overseers cheered.

  Then a drone approached from the side.

  "What the hell is it this time?" Wang Chao growled and I forced myself not to smile.

  "Grey Lynn," Shiloh answered. And all the guests at the table held their collective breaths.

  "Well?" Wang Chao pressed.

  "A riot," she finally replied.

  Silence. And then
the room was empty but for me and a Shiloh controlled drone.

  I glanced up at it. Red glowing eyes stared back impassively.

  And I finally allowed myself to smile.

  Chapter 38

  Oh, Well I'll Be Fucked

  Trent

  Our first contact was a bust, but it did tell us one thing. The black market was rife with suspicion. Everywhere we went we received fearful glares or outright hostility. Blatant shows of non-model behaviour, but considering where we were, if we'd actually been Cardinals, then the jig would definitely have been up.

  No point pretending otherwise.

  Still, everyone we approached refused to entertain us.

  Going so far as to ignore us. Except for the docks. Under more watchful Cardinal presence, our only possible contact with the outside world was guarded stringently. But a lead had taken us to a secret, and absolutely inappropriate, union meeting which we disrupted in the most explosive of ways.

  After that, word got out about two men looking for a fight. With tension the way it was, and fear at all time high, not to mention the dodgy off-grid locations we were frequenting, we ended up running for our lives in Muh Gareh, evading a stampede in Epsom, and starting a riot in Grey Lynn.

  Wánměi was a hairsbreadth away from imploding. And even if I wanted our people to rise up against the Overseers, I knew without structure, without order, without someone to lead them, this way would fail.

  And senseless rage would get us nowhere. Not if we didn't get the weapons we desperately needed and the tech we couldn't succeed without. But the black market was on hiatus. Just angry men, women, and in many cases children - Lena's lookalike zebras running amok - storming the streets. Causing chaos that thankfully hid us, but also hid the aid we knew was out there but couldn't reach.

  Tuesday became Wednesday, which demoralisingly became Thursday. And then things turned south pretty fucking seriously.

  As if they weren't bad enough.

  Alan and I sat in yet another dive, this time in the thick of Muhgah Keekee, trying to overhear conversations that would lead us to our next mark. Or, in the case of myself, trying to drown my ever increasing worry over Lena. There'd been nothing on the news about her "safe" return to the Chief Overseer. Harjeet was in the wind. Mention of drones in Park Road, in amongst the various bars' patrons we'd overheard, led us to believe even the D'awan hadn't returned home.

  But someone expected us to. Just like they'd expected Lena to as well. In Elliott Street.

  Frustration was a familiar emotion. Along with dread and regret.

  I slammed my empty glass down and growled for the bartender. Receiving a top-up swifter than the last two I'd had. My mood had deteriorated along with the Haldors XXX I was drinking. Even the bartender was willing to keep me appeased rather than see the fury apparent in my eyes unleashed.

  "Easy, boss," Alan murmured to my side. "You're scaring all the customers away. Can't hear much if they cower in the corner of the bar."

  He had a point.

  But...

  "This is fucking useless!"

  Alan shrugged, opened his mouth to say something, and then she was there. On the large vid-screen behind the bartender, taking up the entirety of it in Elite perfection and pale skin, her signature black and white striped hair glistening in the afternoon light.

  "Lena," I rasped. And the world ceased its incessant spinning.

  Only to explode out of orbit in a deathly whirl.

  "It gives me great pleasure to announce the upcoming live coverage of the Chief Overseer's wedding to Honourable Selena Carstairs," the vid-screen announcer advised. "This evening at eight o'clock we will all get to share in our leader's most private and intimate moment, when he reunites with his fiancée in front of Wánměi, in a union that is sure to unite all classes."

  No.

  "Trent, we should..." Alan attempted, clearly seeing where my mind was going.

  But he didn't get to finish his sentence, my pint of Haldors smashed against the vid-screen behind the bartender, making shards of glass and sparks of electricity rain down on the poor guy's head. Deathly silence followed, as I lurched to my feet and hurled Alan's stein at the already broken screen as well.

  "I will fucking kill him!" I yelled, spinning and upturning a table with its load of Haldors onto the floor.

  Pandemonium ensued, as it would in a bar brawl.

  I welcomed it.

  If none of these cowards could see what the Overseers were doing, then I'd beat the knowledge into them.

  A fist connected with my jaw; I growled in appreciation. My body slammed into a wooden column; I laughed at the feel of my ribs damn near breaking. A glass of beer was smashed against my skull; I shouted a challenge for more and harder.

  "Is that the best you've got?" I yelled, swinging blindly at an approaching threat. "Why stop here? Take it to the Overseers!"

  A few shouts of agreement, a couple more scuffles, and then my face hit the pavement outside the bar, and the bartender yelled, "And stay out!" in a scene fit for a vid-screen movie.

  I crawled into a sitting position, Alan standing over me and shaking his head.

  It had lasted no more than two minutes.

  "You all done, boss?"

  I cracked my jaw, running a hand over my face, and let out a defeated breath of air.

  "How the fuck do I get to her, Alan?"

  "I don't have an answer for you, Trent. But sitting in the filth of a back street gutter won't bring any further enlightenment."

  I agreed, allowing him to haul me to my feet. Fuck, I wanted her back.

  "Look," he added, once I was standing. "I know she wasn't smiling in that image, but at least she wasn't upset."

  "What? You think she wants to be there?" I demanded, fury raging through my blood vessels all over again.

  "Of course not, fucknut," Alan chastised, in typical Alan style. "But she didn't look harmed."

  Yeah. There was that.

  "Come on," he said, slapping my shoulder and starting to move away from the front of the bar. "Drones will be here soon. They've been chasing our arses for days. This'll keep 'em happy."

  I started following him, struggling to think of an answer.

  "Besides," he added, "we've got until eight to get her out of there."

  And I knew, even though I didn't have a clue how to do it, that Alan and the guys would not hesitate to follow me into Ohrikee.

  We rounded the corner, keeping an eye out for approaching drones, and made it halfway back to the van when we were jumped. For a second, I thought it was a Cardinal. Then in the next, I wondered if it was the bartender coming back for a second round.

  My body hit the far wall of a deserted alley, bruises forming on top of bruises, and then a gun was levelled determinedly at Alan's head.

  This time the "fight" lasted less than thirty seconds.

  We both raised our hands slowly and looked at the Citizen who stared back. No fear. No model behaviour. Totally... unbelievably... perfect.

  "Who are you?" I demanded.

  "You looking for a cause?" the guy asked. I glanced at Alan. He shrugged.

  "Isn't there enough of a cause what with the Overseers?" I chanced.

  "Yeah, but you looking to join an army?"

  "An army?" I queried, stunned. I had an army. Or at least, I used to.

  "Yeah," he repeated. "A rebel army."

  Oh, this was too good.

  "Sure," I said, offering my own nonchalant shoulder shrug.

  "This dude," the guy said, thrusting a piece of paper into my hand. "You go to him, he'll set you up."

  I glanced down at the paper, it just held the name of a park.

  My eyes darted up to the guy still holding the gun at Alan's head.

  "What's the army for?" I asked.

  "One Wánměi," he said, with obvious pride.

  I snorted. The guy frowned.

  "Fuck," Alan announced on a huff of laughter, making the guy holding the gun to his head grip it
tighter. "Someone's stolen your army, Trent."

  "Your army?" the guy asked, dumbfounded. He swept disbelieving eyes from my head to my toes and then back up again.

  "Yeah, my army," I confirmed with a nod.

  The guy shook his head and took a step backwards. "Nah, man. I don't think so. The dude calling Citizens to arms is a Wáikěinese."

  "A Wáikěinese, huh?" One of Wang Chao's, at a guess.

  "Yeah," the guy insisted. "A Wáikěinese with blue eyes."

  Oh, well I'll be fucked.

  Chapter 39

  And Then I Was Running

  Lena

  The cameraman signalled filming was over. I stood statue still as Wang Chao conversed with the Overseer approved reporter regarding the upcoming nuptials. Nuptials I was determined not to take.

  My mind was reeling, my pulse was thrumming, I swiped sweat away from above my lip, praying no one noticed my overly agitated state. I'd escaped Ohrikee many times growing up. On some of those occasions Wang Chao had apparently followed me, so was aware of some of the routes I'd taken. But I had no idea which ones were safe, or which ones he would have told the Cardinals.

  But waiting any longer for Trent to come and rescue me was out. The rebels had led the drones on a merry chase through some of the hardest working areas of Wánměi. Riots and non-model behaviour had broken out in what could have been considered a spectacular rebellion, if not for the death count that had ensued.

  In such a short amount of time Trent's small rebel army had managed to incite outrage enough to make the Citizens rise up in unity against the Overseers. But, still, it wasn't Shiloh drones they saw in numbers when they were rounded up and arrested for wiping. It was what they thought were Cardinal controlled sPol.

  Reinforcing the Overseers' tight fisted grasp on our society. Proving beyond a shadow of doubt that resisting was futile and inevitably fatal. The consequences ones they'd known for years.