Divine Born

by O. J. Lowe

  Subtractor’s face didn’t change, just folded his arms and let him get it out of his system. He might have heard a story, yet he wasn’t quite willing to believe the contents of his own eyes. He could clearly see Subtractor was stood here in front of him and yet he chose to speak of something not untrue.

  “A lot of people did die at the Quin-C final,” he said. “But as you can see, I very much was not one of them, Mister Carling.”

  “Aye, that’s true.” Carling gave him a sardonic smirk. “But look at you now. Still live, still kicking and still with a face like a diseased badger’s shitbox and speaking the amount of fuck-dribble that’d slide out of there if it had been violated over and over.”

  “You learned some colourful language in here.” Subtractor had been called worse, even if this chosen insult was a little harsh and not even remotely fair. “Interesting.”

  “Don’t speak down to me. You’ve not got that right. Tell me what you want from me or I’ll start screaming for the guard that there’s a dead man walking here. Might put a few cracks in whatever you’ve got planned here.”

  “Who says I’ve got a plan?”

  “You’ve always got a plan. You’re crafty like that.”

  “I’ll consider that a compliment, Nigel, from a man like yourself.”

  Carling puffed out his chest, drew himself up to his not overly impressive height and smiled at him. A couple of his teeth looked like they might have gone rotten, brown and yellow with decay. “Dear boy, there are no men like me.”

  Subtractor glanced along the length of the cell block, mentally counted the occupied cells, gave the old man a smile. “I can count about fifteen men like you right now,” he said. He mentally punched the air. Payback for the diseased badger’s shitbox comment. He wasn’t letting that slide. Wouldn’t have been right. Carling wasn’t his boss any longer. He couldn’t do a damn thing to him bar potentially exposing him, and he wasn’t worried about that. He’d surrendered his blaster, didn’t mean that he hadn’t managed to sneak in a method of dealing with Carling should he prove uncooperative in his efforts. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. It would truly be more trouble than the efforts were worth. Coalition would always be better than concealment.

  “These gentlemen and ladies were greedy. I was unlucky. I commit one minor indiscretion…”

  There had been nothing minor about it. Subtractor had been the one to discover it, the one who’d set the blackmail by proxy in motion. The information had gone to Lucas Hobb who’d used it to coerce Carling into helping him. He’d even faked Hobb’s death so that Unisco ceased searching for their disavowed sniper. Even then, the Mistress’ agenda had been pushed. The more compromised Unisco agents, the weaker the whole thing became. With enough seeds of discord, it would collapse in on itself. That had been her plan and he had been its architect.

  “… And it haunts me for the rest of my life. I don’t deserve to be in here like these people do.” Carling shook his head as he spoke. “The years of service go out of the window once you no longer have value to them. How they soon forget everything that you did. Once they hailed you a hero and soon you become a villain without so much as a cursory trial.”

  “Sucks, don’t it?” Subtractor said. He couldn’t do with self-loathing and recrimination, something Carling had managed to fill himself up with in the time that he’d been here. It grated on him. “If it’s any consolation, the last contract you and Hobb had got fulfilled. I had to do it my damn self, but it was done.”

  Carling perked up at that, he hadn’t expected those words and the look of surprise on his face was just simply delightful. “I wanted out from underneath Hobb, you know that?”

  “I know. I just don’t care. I don’t think anyone does. In a situation like yours, you’ve always got a choice. You can come clean and take your lumps, you could have done that, but you didn’t, you kept lying and kept facilitating in hopes that you could still make the best of it. You tried to con your way out of it, you failed miserably.”

  “I hoped Hobb and Roper would kill each other,” Carling said. “But not after Hobb had killed Prince. It relied on timing that didn’t work. Roper got to him first. Even my backup plan failed. I wired that whole damn thing to explode. Matthew Prince was going to die, one way or another that night and yet he didn’t. He managed to get away with it. My life ended that night.”

  “Not necessarily, Nigel,” Subtractor said. “Always there is a chance of redemption for even the lowliest of us, but when the opportunity comes along, we must seize it with both hands.”

  “You’re not here on behalf of Unisco, are you, old son?” That mind was still sharp then, it had grasped the concept with very little prodding, he’d arrived at the conclusion a lot faster than Subtractor had expected him to. Good. It saved time.

  “Indeed, I am not,” he smiled. “But I’d at least ask for you to hear me out before you do what you’re thinking about doing and screaming for the guard.”

  “I wasn’t…”

  “I won’t insult your intelligence Nigel, if you won’t insult mine. Some part of you is already considering whether the knowledge of what I’m about to ask of you could be exchanged for your freedom. Maybe it could. Maybe you’d spill your heart out, they’d thank you for it and then put me in the cell right next to you. I’d rather not find out and I’m sure you rather wouldn’t either. Not knowing is always better. It’s the same sort of logic that made you facilitate Hobb for all the time you did. You’d rather cling to an awkward secret than a painful truth. It’s human nature and you’re no different to the rest of us in that regard.”

  “Dear Divines, I’d forgotten how much you liked the sound of your own voice,” Carling said with disgust. “But, regardless, I’m happy to hear what you’ve got to say.”

  That was music to his ears. This was it, the point of no return. Once he put his offer to Carling, they either parted as allies or as the living and the dead. There could be no middle ground, nothing left behind between them.

  “How much are you aware of what is going on the kingdoms these days, Nigel?” he asked. “I’m not sure how much media they let you have access to in here.”

  “Not much,” Carling admitted. “Is there some sort of war going on, I hear something like that. Some woman named Coppinger. That name I know.” He shrugged. “Only what I can coax out of the guards. Some of them are remarkably chatty if you know how to get them to loosen their tongues.”

  That’s atrocious, Subtractor thought. These prisoners were supposed to get the silent treatment from their captors, not give up any sort of information they asked for. Never mind Carling had been a skilled interrogator back in the day, the fact they’d surrendered any sort of information would normally be cause for a review. If this was the quality of prison wardenship these days, this entire undertaking might be easier than he expected it to be.

  “She’s trying to take over,” he said. “She wants to remake the entire kingdoms into her image, fix everything that’s broken and be worshipped like a Divine.”

  Carling said nothing, just blinked his eyes several times. His mouth opened and closed, like he now wished to say something. Then without warning, he turned back to his bunk and sat himself down on it.

  “Goodbye,” he said. “Let yourself out please, you’ll understand if I don’t get up to wave you off, won’t you?”

  Lesser men might have given up there and then, just sidled off into the distance and called it a bad job. Subtractor had never considered himself a lesser man at anything, nor did he entirely care as to the notion of giving up. He stretched out his arms, buffed at the lapels of his jacket and smiled at the prisoner.

  “Mister Carling,” he said. “I think you’re rushing to a hasty decision here.”

  “Coppinger was the one who wanted Hobb to kill Prince, wasn’t she?”

  Ah, his memory was sharp then. Subtractor’s own relationship with the Mistress could have soured over the fuckup and yet it hadn’t. She’d kept an eye on him, he’
d made sure to work to atone for what had gone wrong, even if truly he was blameless for it. No harm in making sure that everyone else knew it.

  “Business rival,” he said. “She’s moved onto greater things since then.”

  “Didn’t she attack the Quin-C someone told me?”

  Subtractor had memories of that day, he’d been in the stadium when it had all gone down, not that he’d ever been in any sort of danger. He’d watched as the dogs had come and the men with the blaster rifles, he’d watched as people died and the Cacaxis had risen out of the ground. He’d even watched as Alvin Noorland had sacrificed himself, a brave but futile gesture. It might have saved the day, but they wouldn’t win the war. When their best people made acts like that, it would only hasten their defeat. Victory via attrition was no sort of triumph.

  “A statement of intent,” he said. “She’d been exposed…” He’d been part of the assault team to her ship, he’d only just managed to warn her in time that they were there, he’d enabled her getaway. She’d had a few choice words about the delay of his warning but what else could he do? It had been crowded on that transport, it would have been suicide to do it under watching eyes. When they were running amok on the station, he’d found himself a few moments to warn her and had she appreciated it? Not truly. “And she wanted to warn people that she wasn’t yet done. She might have taken a knock, but she was ready to punch back.”

  “Her strategy would appear to be flawed,” Carling said. “That’s not the sort of statement that will win hearts or minds. Wanting to make a change is okay, but ruling through fear ends badly, my old son.”

  “She took Vazara,” Subtractor said. “Had one of her men kill Nwakili on the steps of his palace. She’s already loved and worshipped there.”

  “Vazara has never been important to the scheme of things,” Carling said, a look of disgust on his face. “I suppose if you wanted some slaves, you might go there. Most of the valuable minerals went years ago.”

  “Strong bodies win wars, you should know that.” He knew how old Carling was, knew he’d been around in his youth for the last major war in the kingdoms. Little more than a boy, but he should still remember. Those who lived through wars and those who fought them were often the ones who sought to never see them repeated.

  “Ah, so that’s it.” Carling’s smirk lit up the room, he sat up in triumph. “She doesn’t want people to love her, she wants them to die for her. Difference my foot. Leaders have been wanting their less-desirable subjects to do that for them for years. It’s how you keep control. You put them on the front lines and hope they die before they realise how futile it is.”

  “And yet, she’s willing to offer you a pardon. A full second chance.”

  Carling rolled his eyes. He was being strangely resistant to this idea, Subtractor thought. He found it unsettling. Most people in his position would already be looking to sign up. Perhaps he still clung to some noble idea he was a hero in a bad way, but things would look up for him and he would find redemption.

  “This offer doesn’t come along every day, Mister Carling. I would not resist it if I were you. That would be foolish.”

  “Just weighing up the cost, old son. See something like that, it’s never done out of the goodness of the heart. Somebody always wants something, they never give it for nothing. You can’t pull the wool over my eyes, old son, I’ve been around the block a time or two and I know how it works.”

  “There’s no cost, Nigel.” He decided to try a different tactic, something to get under his skin. “You know, when you first started commanding me, I did my research on you.”

  “You did?” He sounded impressed. Everyone liked to believe they were someone after all. If they thought other people found them fascinating, they made more of an effort to be that way. Simple psychology.

  “I mean, you were so flamboyant with your language and all the ‘old son’s’ and all those little quirks. I researched the family Carling, such as it was. I thought, who is this guy who swans around like he’s a damn king.”

  The smile had faded from Carling’s face. He knew what was coming, that satisfied Subtractor immensely. Getting under his skin was some hells of an achievement, he’d always had a reputation for being notoriously tricky with his wordplay.

  “Not a lot to go on, is there? I mean, you like to behave and speak like you’re some sort of minor aristocrat. You want us to think that you’re so much better than the rest of us. And if that was the case, surely the name Carling would be up there.” Subtractor smiled sweetly at him, savouring the moment.

  “Is there bloody somewhere that you’re going with this!” The accent had faded ever so slightly, that plummy grandfather style that he always favoured so much slipped and something rougher crept in.

  “I know how much noble blood is in your veins, Nigel. Not a whole damn lot, if any, so we can cut through a lot of the crap. Lose the attitude, it really doesn’t suit you no matter how much you try to make it so.”

  “Of all the things I’ve alleged to have done,” Carling said, his voice rising. “Putting on a bit of an accent is hardly the worse. I never proclaimed to be royalty, if people assumed that by the way I spoke then they’re missing the first rule of doing a job like this. We never are what we seem. I mean, look at you. How long have you been paying lip service to Unisco while whoring yourself out? What exactly do you get out of the arrangement with Coppinger, out of interest?”

  “Credits,” he said. “A lot of them. More than I could ever earn on a Unisco salary, but hells, I’ll spend them like they’re going out of fashion. A man has debts, not all of his own making.”

  “So, it’s not about the cause then?”

  “I never said I didn’t feel a deep commitment to her cause,” Subtractor said. “Just that if she wants a job doing properly, it’s only fair that I should be adequately compensated for the danger involved.”

  “What would she want out of having me released?” Carling asked. “What would I have to do for her in exchange? Because I don’t pay lip service to psychopaths.”

  “She’s not psychotic,” Subtractor said. “Far from it. She is glorious and beautiful and terrible, everything you could ever want in a leader. I can get you out of here, Nigel and give you freedom. You’ll walk down the street a free man, nobody to stop you or harass you and you’ll never have felt so alive as you do right then.”

  He reached up, tapped the switch at the side of his head, let the mask slide across his face. Now he bore the features of Nicholas Roper, the man whose identity he had borrowed to walk in here. He glanced back towards the videocam, let it get a good long look at him before turning his face back away and retracting it.

  “I’d love to kill him,” Carling said. “Bastard. I worked my socks off to get him into a decent position and he ruined everything by surviving.”

  “You can’t kill him,” Subtractor said. “The Mistress wants him for herself. She has special plans for him. He screwed her bad, he tried to kill her, he’s on her shit list. She wants him ruined before we pull the trigger.”

  Carling snorted. “What about Larsen? Does she still work for the agency?”

  “Natalia Larsen is a liaison these days,” Subtractor said. “Effectively a bodyguard for the head honcho of the enemy army. We have no such limits on her. If you wished to eliminate her, you could. It’d do us all a huge favour if you did. That’s what the Mistress wants from you if you walk out of here. You know the identities of Unisco agents. Track them, find them, eliminate them. Discredit and destroy wherever you go.”

  For the first time since he’d walked into the cell block, he got the impression that Carling’s smile was genuine. All that was missing was him rubbing his hands together in glee. In that moment, he knew he had him. Carling was on his side in this. A partner in crime, they could do this in the name of the Mistress and everything she stood for.

  Carling laughed. “Freedom and revenge? Now that’s a boat I can get on board with, old son. Should have started with that ra
ther than giving me the salesman pitch. We could have been done by now and already out for high tea and biscuits. So, what’s your plan?”

  “My plan?” Subtractor asked. “Is very simple, one that will require split second timing on your part, Nigel. You need to follow every word I say to the letter, listen carefully and act without hesitation. Can you do that?”

  He’d have been amazed if he couldn’t. Getting as far as Carling had in Unisco required a certain level of intelligence. Though he’d ultimately been caught out, it had been due to a particularly unfortunate lack of luck he might have gotten away with under other circumstances rather than any loss of skill on his part. Still, back on the streets, he could be a potent ally.

  Subtractor stepped back to the guard post, wore the mask of Nicholas Roper as he did and gave the guard a big smile. It always felt weird when he did that, like the mask was a little out of sync with his facial muscles and so it reacted a split second later than the action. Weird but not uncomfortable.

  “Hello again,” he said, his voice nothing like Roper’s, but it didn’t matter. He saw the recognition dawn on the face of the guard, he’d worn this face to get this far, he didn’t sense the danger that was coming his way. “So pleasant to see you.”

  He never saw the hand come up through the hole in the glass, snatch his tie and drive him hard against the blast proof sheet of plastic, blood smearing the transparent material. Again, Subtractor yanked him into it until his face resembled little more than a battered piece of meat, let him fall limply to the ground. It took a little effort, he reached through the hole, found the release button on the other side, and tried to ignore the screaming pain in his muscles as he thumped it down.

  Within moments, he was in the post, not even bothering to give the man he’d knocked unconscious a second glance. He was unimportant now. He retrieved his blaster, ignored the stray thought about giving him one in the head to make sure he stayed down. Murdering him wasn’t a priority. Instead, he found out the cell release switch and studied it for five long seconds. Part of him was aware he was humming as he watched it, before finally he reached down and pushed it. Ahead of him, dozens of doors started to slide open and as one, dozens of prisoners started to file out of their confinement.