Roofworld

by Christopher Fowler

  ‘And make no mistake, Mr Cutts,’ laughed Chymes, ‘I am the villain. No eye-rolling madman I, but an intelligent, selfish, cunning leader of men. All black, no white, no shades of grey. I know what I want, and I know how to get it. Why, I could have been a politician.’ Stan Cutts’ world was reduced to the view of a single approaching black-cloaked figure.

  Chapter 29

  Spice

  ‘What is this place?’ asked Robert, slowly turning around on the vast flat roof. Only a handful of office blocks stood taller, the highest of them being the National Westminster building, over a quarter of a mile away. The wind moaned forlornly across the concrete plane on which they stood, plucking at their clothes before sweeping away through the granite canyons of the city’s financial institutions and down toward the deserted reaches of the sluggishly ebbing river.

  ‘We’re on top of the new Stock Exchange, our temporary home,’ said Spice. ‘We’ve had to move half a dozen times in the last few weeks.’ True to her word, she had collected Robert and Rose from the Planetarium, even if she had arrived over half an hour late. Supplying them with fresh climbing equipment from the hidden panel in the building’s copper dome, she had led the way across the city, expecting them—unfairly, thought Robert—to keep pace with her during the journey.

  Rose looked at her watch. It was almost 11.30. She was starting to feel tired. The rarely used muscles in her arms felt torn and stretched and even in the cold night air she was once more aware of her body sweating. Her face and hands were covered in grease from repeatedly grasping the overhead lines.

  Far below, the traffic was thinning as cars roared around the one-way system leading toward Tower Bridge, their drivers anxious to return home after a night filled with parties and Christmas celebrations. Rose failed to feel much seasonal spirit as she rubbed the backs of her arms briskly, watching Spice’s nimble fingers at work as she reloaded her line-gun for her.

  ‘This is probably a stupid question, but is there somewhere where I can take a wash?’ she asked. Spice pointed across the roof to what looked like a large cream-coloured conduit.

  ‘In there. It ain’t exactly the Ritz, but it’s OK for makeshift headquarters. We used to have a very smart place on the roof of Mornington Crescent tube station, but they found us. Pity, it was nice there.’

  Rose thanked her and wearily headed off towards the conduit with her bag slung over her shoulder. Robert watched her go, then turned to Spice.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said, sitting down with his legs dangling over the side of the building. ‘Zalian is very reluctant to explain the trouble you’re in. Is it like this all the time?’

  ‘Of course not,’ said Spice, laying down the gun and joining him at the edge. ‘There was never any trouble here. There’s always been something binding us together…a feeling of continuity with the past, I suppose. Nathaniel likes that. He wants to keep things as they’ve always been. Says he hates the thought of a society which dumps people on the scrapheap if they don’t fit in. He lives in a fucking dreamworld, but I guess we still need dreamers. There aren’t many left down below any more.’

  She lay down along the narrow cement ledge, casually resting her head on one of her slim, muscular arms in what looked to Robert like an extremely dangerous position.

  ‘See, below, if you’re unemployed they think you must be a layabout. Nathaniel says it’s easier to call someone work-shy than it is to blame the system that failed them.’

  There was more than mere admiration for Zalian in her voice. She waved a hand back at the group of people who sat around on the other side of the roof smoking and talking quietly. ‘Assuming that any of us could even find jobs below, I don’t think we’d want to spend our lives improving the sales of Coca-Cola, or trying to convince the Chinese to buy Chicken McNuggets. There’s got to be more to life than always fighting to grab your share.’

  ‘Well then, why don’t you do something which helps the community?’ asked Robert. He shivered a little, zipping his jumpsuit to the top of his chest.

  ‘We do enough for the community as it is, but not through their system. It’s too slow, too bogged down with red tape, hampered by lack of money. Who wants to do the community any favours? People on the ground would rather work for a record company than an old folks’ home. That’s human nature, isn’t it?’ Spice rose up on one arm to light a cigarette, her face softening in the flare of the match.

  ‘So how do you spend your time?’ asked Robert. ‘I don’t understand what it is that you do up here.’

  Spice gave him a crooked smile. ‘No, you don’t, do you?’ she said, the smile turning into a grin. It made her look completely different, friendlier, her cropped blonde hair untidily framing her pale round face. ‘That’s the beauty of the Roofworld. The same thing has been going on up here for sixty years and nobody on the ground has ever noticed. Be interesting to see if there’s anything left by the end of the week.’ Her voice was light and unconcerned.

  ‘You don’t sound very upset about the possibility of losing it.’

  ‘What’s the point? They say the Roofworld used to be brilliantly organized. Now the runs are falling into disrepair and every day the operation gets more slipshod. A lot of the new buildings are installing roof cameras. It’s only a matter of time before the system breaks down and we’re discovered. Technology will finally catch up with us. Then we’ll end up in jail. At least this way it looks like we’re gonna go out with a bang.’ She looked out across the deserted office buildings, the night breeze lightly ruffling her hair.

  ‘But I’ll stay on up here whatever happens. I think I’d still rather fall from a roof than die at home, in front of the video. I’ve been here for six years and I’ve watched the Roofworld slowly fall apart. The ones who could have rebuilt the system have been seduced away. Nathaniel’s a good man. He really did his best for us. But now he’s lost the battle.’ She finished her cigarette and flicked it over the side. Robert leaned forward to watch the tiny red spark spiral down to the street as Spice looked away into the grey-black clouds scudding above the skyline.

  —

  Rose was astounded. Inside the ‘conduit’ was a complex of rooms, including a portable shower, toilets, an operations room fitted with lightweight computers, a mess with an adjoining kitchen and a storeroom piled high with climbing gear and weaponry. The shower water was heated by a flexible plastic tank which was wrapped around some of the hot water pipes belonging to the Exchange below and was operated by a simple foot-pump. In minutes she was clean and refreshed. Rose stepped with surprise into a heavy white towel held at arm’s length by Zalian.

  ‘It’s OK, I have my eyes shut,’ he said, opening one and peering over. Rose grabbed the towel and tied it tightly around her breasts.

  ‘Let me dry your back, at least.’ Amusement played in his pale eyes. ‘What do you think of our temporary headquarters?’

  ‘It’s surprising what you can do with an unfurnished property,’ said Rose, accepting the back-rub. ‘What are the computers for?’

  ‘We run them from the lines going into the Exchange,’ he said, sidestepping the question. ‘The kitchen has a gas pipe running from the same system. Lee fixed it. You’ll be pleased to know that he made it back, by the way. In one piece, too.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ said Rose. ‘What about Simon?’

  ‘No sign yet. But he’s pretty good at looking after himself. Here.’ Zalian held up a pile of neatly folded clothes.

  ‘You want to step outside while I dress?’ she said, pushing him toward the door.

  ‘No, but I will.’

  She pushed the door firmly shut. Zalian’s changes in mood made her uneasy. It was as if he was reacting to each new situation on a purely emotional level, running on empty, with no hope approaching on the horizon. No wonder the morale of his troops was so low, she thought. They could never know what he was about to do next.

  After she had pulled on the black jumpsuit and zipped it up, Rose walked into the deserted operations ro
om. She stifled a yawn, idly looking over at the computers as she passed them.

  Despite the shower, her joints still felt stiff and sore. One of the computer screens glowed softly green in the dim light. It was displaying a list of corporation giants, NatWest, Pepsi, IBM and several others, each with a disc index number. Her interest increasing, she leaned over the console and keyed in the number corresponding to ‘NatWest’. The screen scrolled down an endless list of names, dates and financial amounts. She was still staring at the screen, puzzled, when the door opened behind her.

  ‘Rose? You OK?’ Cold night air flooded into the room from where Robert stood. ‘Do your arms hurt? Mine are bloody near hanging off.’

  ‘Yeah, mine are too. Apart from that, I’m fine. Coming right out.’

  ‘Quite a set-up he has here.’ Robert looked around, impressed. ‘Wonder what he needs the computers for.’

  ‘I was just wondering the same thing.’

  ‘Well, let’s ask him.’

  ‘You won’t get a straight answer.’ Rose stepped beneath Robert’s arm and out through the door leading onto the roof. ‘He’s waiting for you to give him the second notebook, Robert.’

  ‘I’ll trade him, information for information. There’s got to be full trust on both sides if we’re to help each other.’

  ‘Fighting words, kiddo,’ said Rose, slapping Robert on the back. ‘Let’s go and see if it works in practice.’

  Chapter 30

  New Age

  Zalian had gathered his people together and was mapping out a plan of the night’s activities, addressing the remaining members of his depleted order. Most were standing or sitting in a ragged circle on the broad aluminium strips which covered the roof. A few hung back by the conduit, with their hands in the pockets of their black overall suits. All of them looked dejected and cold.

  ‘Rose and Robert here have brought us some new information which, we hope, will help us find the location we need.’ Even in the gloom, Zalian’s pale iridescent eyes were uncomfortable to catch directly. Robert wondered if these young men and women were under the power of a fanatic, even one so seemingly benign.

  ‘It’s almost certain that Chymes will try to locate and attack us tonight. They may even be on their way here right now. None of us can afford to fall from constant guard.

  ‘What I propose is this; that we divide into three groups. Lee will lead the first, Damien can take the second and Spice the third. You’ll each cover a specific city sector, using the walkie-talkies to stay in touch. If any of you make visual contact with Chymes or his followers, radio in your position immediately and give a full report, then wait until we can get back-up over to you.

  ‘Don’t go in alone, even if you outnumber them. I don’t want any stupid heroics. We must work together to capture Chymes himself, or any accomplices who are likely to share his confidence and have access to information.’

  ‘Which group are you gonna go with?’ asked a skinny Asian boy at the front of the gathering.

  ‘I’ll be here, studying the new information with these two. They aren’t as used to roof climbing as you and I need them to help me. I’ll radio each group as soon as we have a lead.’

  ‘Wait a minute.’ Lee had stood up at the back. The stocky Oriental boy was kitting himself with a nylon backpack as he spoke. ‘What happens if you still don’t find out anything? We don’t even know how many of them are out there! They could be setting traps all over the city, just waiting for us to fall into them.’

  ‘That’s a risk we’ll have to take. He’s got twelve of our finest people awaiting execution. We’ve no choice but to try to discover their location. If we fail, they also die.’

  Although it was clearly intended as fighting talk from Zalian, a murmur of dissent ran through the group. Nobody seemed to think it proper that he should exempt himself from his rightful place on the front line. In earlier, more peaceful times, the doctor’s unequivocal manner had helped to maintain discipline, energizing and encouraging them to enjoy their alternative life above the city. Under the leadership of Zalian, each day in the Roofworld had taken on different aspects of an extraordinary adventure. He had given them a sense of community and purpose. He had been their teacher, their guide, their friend and adviser. But now the utopia he had helped to create lay in ruins about them and it was becoming all too clear that he could no longer be counted on to lead them to victory. His faith had been shaken. Too many once-trusted friends had defected to the other side.

  ‘Lee’s going to kit you out with every weapon we can find. I know none of you have been trained to fight, but then nobody thought it would ever come to this. I want to say one thing.’ The group simmered back into silence as Zalian walked forward into their midst. ‘If you believe in the life we have been trying to create up here, you must see that the system continues for another generation. You must do everything within your power to ensure that—somehow—the Roofworld endures.’

  Most of the people around him were looking down at their feet, embarrassed. Zalian then addressed himself to individual members of the group.

  In order to break up the dismal silence that followed his pep talk, the loyal Lee clapped his hands and began pulling people to their feet. ‘Right, Mack, Little Jo, and those of you who have done any weapon-training, this way. Come on, let’s move out.’

  Slowly, people started to rise and follow. Spice, taking Lee’s lead, began to organize her party. Damien, a spiky-haired boy who moved with an awkward limp, was the unenthusiastic leader of the third group. He too began pulling people to their feet and dividing up the supply of makeshift weaponry. Robert and Rose dutifully followed Zalian back into the operations room inside the conduit.

  The doctor flicked on an Anglepoise lamp and sat down as Rose handed him the dog-eared notebook.

  ‘Let’s divide up the pages,’ he said. ‘If there’s anything at all in here that might lead us to the New Age headquarters or the execution sites, we have to find it.’

  ‘Hold it,’ said Robert, raising his hand. ‘Am I missing something here? What execution sites? What the hell is the New Age anyway?’

  ‘If you’re planning to see this thing through you might as well know,’ said Zalian, pinching the top of his long nose with a grimy thumb and forefinger. ‘The last thing we ever wanted up here was any trouble.’ He sat back and looked from one face to the other, realizing that he would have to elucidate before Robert and Rose could be of any use to him. An explanation was obviously in order.

  Rose decided to take the initiative. ‘You could start by telling us how you entered the Roofworld,’ she said.

  ‘I mean, you didn’t just answer an ad in The Guardian, did you?’

  ‘If you’re asking me why I left the ground, let’s just say that life had become—unbearable for me,’ Zalian replied, clearly ill-at-ease. ‘It began with a patient of mine, an old man…one day, as he surfaced from an operation anaesthetic, he started to tell me about a place he knew of, one which had existed above the city for decades. He kept talking of this…other way of life.’ He shrugged and rose, hiking a pack of Pepsis from beside his packing-crate desk and pulling a can free.

  ‘Naturally, at the time I assumed him to be hallucinating, describing a dream, but still the idea intrigued me. Some time later I heard the story again, from a completely different source, so I decided to do a little investigating.

  ‘The whole thing sounded too good to be true—and in a sense it was. To cut a long story short, I was about to abandon my search for this fabled “secret life” when I accidentally stumbled on the headquarters of the Roofworld.’ He popped open the can, then slid the rest of the pack across to Rose. ‘The place was a total shambles. The previous leader had given up and returned to life below and only a few people had remained behind here. Still, it seemed important—to me at least—to try and rebuild what was left.’

  He ran his hand through the long blonde hair which curled across the nape of his neck, smiling now at the memory. ‘I declared my
intentions and quickly found that there were others who were willing to help me resurrect the Roofworld. They showed me all manner of books relating to customs and rituals which had been practiced up here over fifty years earlier. I threw out the arcane and the obscure and kept the laws which seemed to embody something good and useful. I reinstated the Roofworld’s ideals and adapted them for a new generation….’

  ‘So what went wrong?’ asked Robert.

  ‘I guess I was too successful. More and more people were growing dissatisfied with life on the ground and wanted to join us. Security started to slip. Tongues loosened a little too much. People we rejected as unsuitable knew enough about our operation to blow the whistle. For the first time since its creation the Roofworld was in danger of exposure.’

  Zalian looked to the door. ‘Wait, let’s talk outside. I want to watch everyone prepare. The way things are going at the moment, it may be the last time we’re all together.’ Zalian stretched his long legs and stood. Once outside, he began to walk slowly along the roof, following the edge of the parapet as if continually challenging the laws of gravity. As he spoke, Robert and Rose were forced to fall in step with him in order to hear. Everywhere, people were packing bags and checking line equipment.

  ‘Then what happened?’ asked Robert.

  ‘Other gangs started to appear on the rooftops,’ said Zalian. ‘They cared nothing for the ordered, idealistic society we had re-created. It soon became obvious to me that someone with enough strength could use the network for harmful purposes. When the inevitable occurred, it was far worse than anyone could have imagined. The group that appeared was literally forged in evil. Its rules and codes became sick parodies of our own.’ The wind began to pick up around them, ruffling Robert’s hair and tumbling litter across the rooftop.