by O. J. Lowe
“Not worth it,” Leclerc said quickly. “Unless you want to hit Coppinger or Mazoud. Rest of them split fifteen ways wouldn’t be worth getting out of bed for.”
“Fifteen of us could hit Mazoud easy,” Derenko mused dreamily. “Eight hundred grand, fifteen ways… Just over fifty thousand each. Not bad for a morning’s work.”
“Nice to see what sort of loyalty we have from our agents when the times get tough,” Brendan said sarcastically. The room went silent, an ugly undertone to the quiet. He might just have crossed the line with his joke, even Arnholt and Crumley glared at him.
Only Nkolou and Navarro, the two captured pilots remained any sort of unmoved by it, Nick noticed. They’d been kept around, they were down numbers after Harper had been killed in action and despite their rustiness in field action, they’d survived in the enemy camp for a good few weeks. They had information, potentially. They would be useful. They’d already proven themselves heroes in what was now being dubbed the Battle of Red Sky by the media after the explosions had stained the sky temporary shades of red and orange. It hadn’t been easy to miss; everyone had been about forming their theories as to what happened. Catarzi confirming it was the best thing possible given some of the rumours.
“Just a thought, Chief,” Fagan said. “We’re all on the same page here.” Maybe because he was feeling ire at the suggestion, he also added. “As if you have to ask.” Brendan let it go, even with the hint of challenge in the words. Maybe it was just Fagan’s accent. Everything sounded like it was bordering on insubordination at times. When he was annoyed, it sounded like he was about to set off on outright mutiny.
“I know it’s a terrible situation,” Arnholt said. “But hey, we all know the score. We know that nobody on our side is going to come out a winner in this. We might have to do terrible things and we’ll have to live with the consequences.” He sighed sorrowfully. “Can’t do anything about it. Goes with the job I’m afraid. This is the greatest catastrophe to hit our lives, certainly our working careers. We need to step up or be stepped on. Sad truth I’m afraid to say. Everyone here is needed to be ready, willing and able to do what needs to be done. I’m told the Senate is now voting to relax our regulations. Maybe even restructure the organisation for times of crisis.”
“Fuck me!” Nick said aloud. “It must be bad then.”
His reaction brought a few titters from the group, mainly Leclerc and Fagan, Arnholt rolled his eyes. Brendan looked like he wanted to say something but bit down on it. His jaw muscles must have been aching badly, Nick noted, the Field Chief had a face like it was hewn from stone right now.
“And it has been dutifully summed up by Agent Roper there and then,” Arnholt said. “Relaxing the rules that we must follow to do our jobs to an efficient standard of enforcement. To say the least, it would appear they are desperate for a quick resolution. They have apparently arrived at the conclusion that the ends can justify the means. The reality is so very different. I don’t have to tell you what a delicate situation this could turn into.”
“I don’t follow, sir,” Alex Nkolou said, piping up for the first time. “If the regulations are relaxed, then surely that’s a good thing. We can do our jobs easier…”
“And it’s a can of worms,” Pree Khan replied to her. She’d shown back up not too long ago, unwilling to talk about how she’d gotten back. “Where is the line? If we don’t know where it is, how the hells can we avoid crossing it? Your view is what the Senate believe, if suddenly we don’t have to follow their regulations and can trample roughshod over whoever the hells we want, we’ll have the job done in five minutes. It’s not that simple…” She paused suddenly, aware of the look Arnholt was giving her. “Sorry, Director.”
“Oh please, go on,” Arnholt said. “You’re putting it very succinctly. Don’t interrupt me next time, Agent Khan.”
“Apologies,” Khan said. “Anyway, the reality is different to what the Senate believes will happen. Think about it. Claudia Coppinger is fighting a war based on change, correct me if I’m wrong, Agent Caldwell. She wants to go out with the old, bring in the new and she has to tear down that old before she can build on top of it.”
“Sounds about right,” Caldwell said, stretching out his arms behind his head. “She wanted to find people disillusioned with the current system…”
“Currently that extends as far as the ICCC and probably us, but it could move towards the Senate as well. Chances are that it will go towards the Senate in time. Can’t do anything about it,” Khan said. “What we absolutely don’t want to do is give her weapons to use against us. If she’s going on about how the Senate are corrupt and want to safeguard their power and want to do anything to ensure that happens, and then it comes out that they’re telling us to do whatever we must to do just that, it could give her fearmongering a new angle…”
“See,” Arnholt said. “Knife edge. I still expect all my agents to use their judgement as wisely as possible in any given situation.” Nick thought it was a touch ironic given what had happened just a few weeks earlier in the whole Jeremiah Blut affair but didn’t bring it up. Under new rules, he’d have probably gotten away with it. Irony. He rolled his eyes at that thought. “This is all just hypothetical anyway. The Senate are voting on it later in the week.” He lowered his voice. “The rumour I hear is that they’re waiting until the Quin-C final. They want to bury it amidst a bigger story in the media. It’s not a decision that’s going to make them popular. A lot of people already don’t like us. They don’t like what we do. The Senate might not even vote to approve it.”
“I think we all appreciate your optimism, Director,” Okocha said wearily. “But the general feeling is that the senators are terrified by everything going on. If Coppinger goes after them, they’re going to want to do everything they can to get her first.”
“Where you hear that?” Tod Brumley asked, curiosity in his voice.
“What, you’ve not got sources on Five Point Island?” Okocha asked dryly. “I know a few of our guys who work down there. There’s that much terrified chatter in the air, it’s screwing with the auditory detectors. Some of them are already finding excuses to leave their homes on the island and return to somewhere a little less exposed. Seriously, not lying.”
“I think what Will’s trying to say,” Noorland said. “Is that scared people do desperate things. And those senators sound scared, by what he’s saying.” He grinned around the room. “Because whoever heard of a politician ever leaving luxury accommodation willingly?”
Nick knew what he meant. Five Point Island was the home of the Senate building, a huge colosseum of a structure opened to the sky but protected against the elements by use of a protective shield like those employed around spirit battling fields. Surrounding it for most of the expanse of the island were a huge number of private accommodations, each of them easily as luxurious as the best hotels on this island. The only reason the media didn’t absolutely slate them for living like that was perhaps because they truly didn’t know the extent of the decadence present.
The only journalistic presences on the island were limited to the Senate building, they had their own landing pad, passes were only available on a strictly vetted availability. Anyone caught outside the approved zones was arrested for trespass. It had happened many, many times and each time the journalist in question had been dealt with under the full force of the law of the island. Suffice to say that exposing the lap of luxury had been the last thing on their mind when faced with the trial for their supposed crimes.
When you thought about it like that, it wasn’t hard to see why Claudia Coppinger had decided to do something. Granted maybe she was going about it in an excessive way, but maybe she had a point. Nick sighed to himself. This was all going to be a horrible mess before too long.
“Okay then, we have a building of terrified senators, we’re going to be ass-deep in bounty hunters wanting to make a name for themselves, we’ve got a sociopath ready to really fuck things up and we’re allowed
to do whatever we want to stop it before it really descends into chaos?” Lysa asked. “Any good news to throw at us, anyone?”
“Just that while they might be wrong to go about it the way that they are,” Arnholt said, “It doesn’t mean that they’re not right in thinking that this needs to be resolved quickly. If we fail to do so…”
He didn’t need to finish his sentence. Everyone knew. They didn’t like it but they knew. Just as they knew that the stakes were higher than they’d ever been for them.
Burykia.
The fifth day of Summerfall.
The town of Hoko stood silent in the night, the only sounds of life beyond the crickets being the crunch of grass beneath her boots as she and Wim Carson made their way through the fields. She looked around under the faint lights that lined the streets and found herself… Well if not at peace, then definitely more relaxed here than she had been before. Now she was away from it all, things felt good.
Since they’d landed in Burykia, she’d heard from Rocastle, had been pleasantly surprised to hear that he’d done some good for her. Finally, and not without good timing as well! The man was a liability and the potential for buffoonery but maybe she’d misjudged him. Perhaps he could hold some further long-term use. His role in her plans had initially been a small one, yet it had turned out to be so key. He’d had to jettison parts of the Eye but she’d ordered him to do it so he couldn’t be faulted for following orders. Not this time. When she returned from this trip, she would have to run an inventory, see what had been kept and what had been lost by the efforts. What had been up there wasn’t her only stockpile, she had others around the kingdoms but it was still a blow.
Silently she cursed her foul run of luck in the recent days. What had brought Unisco and the five kingdoms army to her doorstep? She never knew but she suspected Collison had something to do with it. The absolute fucking snake! She stopped for a moment, let the rage flow through her, hot white anger brushing against the sides of her vision. She’d trusted him! Let him back into her life when he’d tried so hard to get away from it and what had he done? He’d betrayed her. Admitted to conspiring with her enemies against her. The bastard would have to be dealt with at some point. A message to all those that might go against her when it mattered.
Still revenge could wait for now. It was a dish best served freezing but she wasn’t intending to leave it that long. Not if she could help it. He knew stuff about her plans that could be fatal, she was just grateful that she’d chosen never to reveal the identity of her source within Unisco to him. If he was with that group of malcontents, then it would have been disastrous to have that leak plugged. Perhaps she could arrange for her man to deal with her traitorous brother.
As an idea, it was rejected the moment it entered her head. Drawing suspicion on her mole wasn’t likely the best course of action, even if it could be explained away. The unialiv had failed as well, though she wasn’t sure how. Rocastle had reported that there was no sign of it on board the station and no bodies in the hangar. If they couldn’t find a body, it wasn’t dead. They had recovered the body of one of the Unisco operatives, someone who they’d identified as a Melanie Harper. The name meant nothing to her, whether it should have or not, she didn’t care. It meant that there was one less of them in the kingdoms. Either way, her remains had been disposed of.
“I’ve never been here before,” she said aloud, anything to draw her out of her thoughts. Wim Carson had halted, arms folded and looked at her with a cocked eyebrow that made him look way too reckless. She’d noticed he’d become unarmed since his encounter with that troublesome little girl back at the base.
“You seem troubled,” Wim said.
“You know what?!” she said, anger suddenly rising in her gorge and she couldn’t stop the bile spilling out. “I am! I’m trying to heal these sick kingdoms and everyone seems intent on stopping me! I didn’t expect them to lie down and die but their resistance is becoming tiresome. I had a plan and it’s all been blown to shit before we even started! Now I’m trying to get it all back on track and I’m worried about where the next screw up is going to come from.”
“They say every plan is sound until it comes into action,” Wim remarked evenly. “In my experience, it is perhaps not the ability to formulate a plan that defines the ability of an individual but rather the ability to adapt once it all falls apart. You cannot plan for every eventuality. To try and do so is a waste of effort. And you’re not doing too bad. You’re still alive. You still have most of a battle station. You still have most of the Ista Neroux.”
That was a sore point. Two of them were unaccounted for right now. Not only was the unialiv missing in action but the sabuyak had never been retrieved either following that mini breakout they experienced weeks ago. It was rather hard to track a ghost at the best of times but to have completely lost track of it… It irked her to say the least. It hadn’t been the most powerful of what they’d put together but still that it wasn’t where it was meant to be annoyed the hells out of her. It was her property and how dare it wander off!
“You still have most of your facilities! You still have your vision,” he continued. “You know the medicine that this place needs and you are in the position to ensure that you acquire it. I can think of nothing else that you need. You perhaps are too critical on yourself.”
She let out a bitter laugh, more for show than anything else. If Wim was half as sensitive to moods and emotions as he made out, it wasn’t going to fool him. But she didn’t care about that. Fooling him wasn’t part of the deal. “The thing is, if I’m not going to be hard on myself, who else is? If I fail, it’s all been for nothing and I can’t let that happen.”
“Then don’t fail,” Wim said simply. “Do or do not. If you die, then at least you died making the effort. It’s more than most of the people in these kingdoms can say. If you die, your name will be mud. Everything you have done will be regarded with scorn and disgust. You will have lost everything and it will be beyond you forever.” Then he smiled at her, a warm almost fatherly expression that made her think of days long gone and times that weren’t going to come back to her. “But what if you win?”
Exactly. What if I do win? She was sacrificing so much in this venture, so much and yet so little appreciation right now. She was set to be a pariah and her list of friends and allies that she could count on was growing smaller by the minute. Rocastle had reported that the crime bosses she’d invested so much effort and time in bringing together had been taken by Unisco. Phillipe Mazoud still had her back for now, he was throwing his lot in with her but his organisation was limited outside of Vazara. If she was caught here in Burykia for example, he wouldn’t be able to do a lot to help her.
No, she needed more. In recent months she might have been hesitant about this decision but she had no other choice. Even had she the means to put it into play before, still she might have shied away from it.
It was the statue. Of course, it was. She’d never been to Hoko before but everyone who knew anything about Burykia always said that the biggest brightest statue of Gilgarus was always to be found here. It was, Claudia had to admit, damn impressive as she stared up at it from paws to collar to crown.
“I remember the first time I saw this,” Wim said thoughtfully. “My master brought me here, told me the legend of how this thing came into being.”
“Gilgarus?”
“The statue. Although the two are linked. I believe you know the story. I believe your Doctor Jeremiah Blut definitely did as well, not that he knew how to definitely prove it or not.”
“You always seem to know a lot about this stuff,” she said. “And yet you never share how you came about this knowledge.”
He did that thing with his eyes, smiled without smiling. He had the look of a man hiding smug beneath his secrets and privately he loved that feeling of superiority. “I wasn’t always a man of the streets. I did used to be someone. Before I got it all back, I lost it. And before I lost it, well who I was should have been
feared. At least if people were in the know, they would have. I was the archivist for the Council of Nine.”
“The what?” She wasn’t even a little bit ashamed to admit that she’d never heard of them. The sense she got from him said he would have been even more surprised if she had. The supercilious way he’d been talking and acting since he’d brought them up, almost preening with his own foreknowledge, she got the impression she wasn’t expected to know them.
“The rulers of the Vedo,” Wim said. “The nine strongest to govern them all. I was one of them. As I’m aware, the only survivor. Though that wasn’t without its cost. A life left living is worth more than a death dealt dead. There are others but by right I am the heir to the empty throne.”
“Fascinating.” She only half meant it. Perhaps better to deal with Wim sooner or later. He could be a problem if he had thoughts like this.
“You speak with scepticism?”
“Perhaps,” she said. “I still find it hard to believe that an organisation like yours existed for all this time and nobody ever found out about it.”
“Well of course they did,” Wim said. “People found out about us all the time. Hence the need for our Buffers. They were always needed to be heavily employed whenever we announced our presence to the kingdoms. Always the circumstances would be great and our greatest mentalists would be out there to fog the recollections of those who saw us, to make us as ghosts. We prided our secrecy. Anyway, enough about people long dead.”
He cleared his throat, rubbed at his chest with the scruff of his fist. “In my role as archivist I found so much out, more than I could possibly ever remember. Information is the greatest weapon imaginable, I believe you would agree with me on that score. I always remember the rumours about this statue though. It’s built above a nexus of power; the fabric of reality is ever so slightly thinner here than anywhere else in the five kingdoms. Hence, with a place like this, you need something to mark it. And what better than a great statue of Gilgarus? It makes a certain amount of sense when you think about it, do you not think? More than that, people come here to worship. All that belief, all that faith, into an area where reality is weaker than everywhere else. Belief is a powerful force, Mistress.”