“Nice,” Louise purred. Sunlight and Pimms were making her deliciously drowsy. She held up her glass for a refill.
Of all the strange days since she’d waved goodbye to her father, this one was undoubtedly the most mentally liberating. Conversing and mixing with Charlie’s friends and children left her faintly envious of them. They weren’t less moral than her, just different. Fewer cares and hangups for a start. She wondered if true aristocracy meant having the gene for guilt removed. A nice life.
When the appallingly energetic swimmers finally tired, and the sun was edging down the side of the dome, Divinia insisted on taking her for a massage, dismayed by the fact Louise had never had one before. A couple of the other girls joined them in one of the house’s original stable blocks which had been converted to a sauna and health spa.
Lying face down on a bench with just a towel over her rump, Louise experienced the painful glory of the masseur’s hands pummelling then kneading her muscles. Her shoulders became so loose she thought they’d fall off.
“Who are all the staff here?” she asked at one point. It was hard to believe that everyone in on the secret of B7 could be kept quiet.
“They’re sequestrated,” Divinia said. “Criminals that got caught by GISD.”
“Oh.” Louise twisted to look at the burly woman who was digging stiff fingers into her calf muscles. She seemed completely unperturbed by having her enslavement discussed openly. The idea bothered Louise, although it wasn’t that much different to turning them into Ivets. Either way saw them sentenced to work for others. This method was just more severe. But then she didn’t know how bad the original crime had been. Don’t think about it. It’s not as if I can change anything.
Divinia and the other girls gossiped their way through the massage, twittering and laughing over boys, parties, games. Though it began to take on the tone of a farewell reminiscence, places they’d never visit again, friends left out of reach. They talked as though Earth had already been lost.
Louise left the spa tingling everywhere, feeling thoroughly energized. Divinia walked with her back to the house to show her the guest room she’d been given. It was on the first floor, overlooking the orchard. The oak-beamed ceiling was low, barely a foot above Louise’s head, giving the room a snug atmosphere. A four-poster bed contributed generously to the theme, as did the rich gold and claret fabrics used for its canopies and the curtains.
All Louise’s bags and cases were stacked neatly on the pine blanket box at the foot of the bed. Divinia spied them greedily and started to go through the dresses. The long blue gown was taken out and admired, as were a number of others. None of them were quite right, Divinia declared, but she had something which might just suit the evening.
It turned out to be a quite disgraceful little black cocktail dress that Louise balked at on first sight. Divinia spent a full ten minutes coaxing her into it, outrageously flattering and encouraging. When it was on, Louise suffered a whole new plague of misgivings; you needed supreme confidence to wear anything like this in front of other people.
Genevieve came in just before they were due to go downstairs. “Blimey, Louise,” she said, wide-eyed at the dress.
“I’m treating myself,” Louise told her. “It’s just for tonight.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
The admiration she received from Charlie and his friends when she emerged out onto the terrace was reward enough. Charlie and the men wore dinner jackets, while the girls were all in cocktail dresses, some even more alluring than Louise’s borrowed number.
Outside the dome, the sun had finally reached the horizon. Light spilled out symmetrically from the brilliant orange disk to spread in waves along the crest of the verdant land. Charlie guided Louise over to the end of the terrace so they could watch it. He handed her a slim crystal flute.
“A champagne sunset shared with a beautiful girl. Not a bad last memory of the old planet, if somewhat laboured. How very considerate of the weather to stay clear for us. Its first favour in five centuries.”
Louise sipped her champagne as she admired the clean elegance of the shimmering orange star. She could remember the air as clear as this above Bytham, how it had been infiltrated by insidious wisps of red cloud. Her last memory of home.
“It’s lovely,” she told him.
She sat next to Charlie for dinner. Inevitably, it was a sumptuous affair; the food exquisite, the wine over a century old. She remembered being enthralled by the topics of conversation, and laughing at stories of mistakes and social catastrophes that could only ever happen to an elite such as this. Even though they knew they would have to abandon their world within days, they had an assurance like no other. After an age exposed to depression and anxiety it was a wonderful to experience such unabashed optimism.
Charlie, of course, made her laugh most of the time. She knew why, and no longer cared. Her clever, persistent seduction, and the effort he put into it, gave her a strong sense of belonging. It was classically played, and hauntingly refined. For a planetary oppressor, he was terribly charming.
He even helped Divinia guide her upstairs at the end of the evening. Not that she was drunk and needed help, she just didn’t want to spoil the mood by putting that nasty little detox program into primary mode. Their hands let go of her just outside her door, alowing her to lean against the frame, happy at the support it offered.
“My bedroom is just down there,” Charlie murmured. His lips kissed Louise gently on her brow. “If you want to.” He put his arm round Divinia, and they moved off down the landing.
Louise closed her eyes, pressing her lips together. She rolled against the wall to face her own bedroom door, and stumbled inside.
Her breathing still wasn’t under control, and her skin was flushed. She pushed the door shut firmly behind her. A white silk negligee had been laid out on the bed, it made the little black dress demure by comparison.
Oh sweet Jesus, now what the hell do I do?
She picked up the negligee.
It’s not as if anybody here will think less of me for having sex with them. The fact that it was even an option actually made her smile in amazement. There was no order in the universe any more, nothing familiar.
So do I, or don’t I? The only guilt I’ll carry is what I manufacture for myself. And that’s the product of heritage. So for all my bravado, just how independent from Norfolk have I become?
She stood in front of the mirror. Her hair was unbound, the flexitives inert, turning it back into a dark unruly cloak. The negligee clung to her body, showing it off provocatively. Just how aroused she’d become was blatantly obvious. A sultry grin was widening on her face as she acknowledged how sexually formidable she looked.
Joshua had always adored her naked body, almost delirious with praise as she gave herself up to him. Which was the answer, really.
Louise was woken by Genevieve bouncing onto her bed, and shaking her enthusiastically. Her head rose up, face curtained by wild hair. She had a headache and a revoltingly dry mouth.
For future reference, put the detox program into primary mode before you fall asleep. Please!
“What?” she croaked.
“Oh come on, Louise, I’ve been up simply hours.”
“Oh God.” Sluggish thoughts designated too-bright neuroiconic symbols, and her neural nanonics datavised a string of instructions to her medical package. It began to adjust her blood chemistry, filtering out the residue of toxicants. “I need the loo,” she mumbled.
“When did you get that nightie?” Gen shouted after her as she tottered towards the en suite bathroom. Fortunately there was a big towelling robe hanging up on the inside of the door. She was able to cover up the first-night-of-the-honeymoon garment before she went back to confront Gen. Her head was a lot clearer thanks to the package’s ministrations, though her body hadn’t caught up yet.
“Divinia loaned it to me,” she said quickly, forestalling any more questions.
Gen’s smile was wretc
hedly smug; she fell back on the bed, hands behind her head. “You’ve got a hangover, haven’t you?”
“Devil child.”
The breakfast room had a long table of big silver warmers containing a considerable variety of food. Louise went along lifting up each lid. She didn’t recognize half of the items. In the end she settled for her usual of corn chips followed by scrambled eggs. One of the maids fetched her a pot of fresh tea.
Divinia and Charlie arrived just after Louise started to eat. He gave Louise a modest little smile, conveying a tinge of regret. That was the only reference ever made to the invitation.
He ruffled Genevieve’s hair as he sat with them, earning himself a disapproving look.
“So when do we leave?” Louise asked.
“I’m not sure,” Charlie said. “I’m keeping an eye on developments. New York and London are the critical places to watch right now. It looks like New York is going to fall within a week. The inhabitants can only keep resisting the possessed for so long. And they’re losing ground.”
“What’ll happen if the possessed take over?”
“That’s when life becomes really unpleasant. I’m afraid our dear president has woken up to what that many possessed are capable of. He’s scared they’ll try to take the Earth out of this universe. That gives him two options. He can fire the SD electron beams in a circle around the arcology, and hope they’ll do a Ketton and just take themselves and a big chunk of landscape out of here. If not, it’s a very stark choice; we either go with them, or the SD weapons are focused on the arcology itself.”
“Kill them?” Gen asked in fright.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Will he really do that? A whole arcology.”
“I doubt he has the courage to make that kind of decision. He’ll consult the senate in an attempt to get them to take the blame, but they’ll just give him the authority and pass the buck right back at him without committing themselves. If he does give the order to hit the arcology, then obviously B7 will stop the SD network from actually firing. I’m of the opinion we should let the possessed remove Earth. It’s a cold equation, but that outcome causes the least harm in the long term. One day we’ll learn how to bring it back.”
“You really think that’s possible?” Louise asked.
“If a planet can be moved out of the universe, it can be returned. Don’t ask me for a timetable.”
“So what about London?”
“That’s more difficult. As I told my colleagues, if Dexter gains control of enough possessed he’ll be able to dictate his own agenda to everyone, possessed and non-possessed alike. If that becomes the case, we might have to use the SD weapons to kill the possessed he commands to take that power away from him.”
Louise lost all interest in her food. “How many people?”
“SD weapons have a large target footprint. There’s going to be a lot of innocent bystanders caught. An awful lot,” he said significantly. “There are thousands of possessed that have to be targeted.”
“You can’t. Charlie, you can’t.”
“I know. B7 is actually considering if we should actively help the New York possessed to take over that arcology. If they do so before Quinn expands his power base, then Earth will be taken out of this universe before he can menace it.”
“Oh sweet Jesus. That’s just as bad.”
“Yeah,” he said bitterly. “Who wants to rule the world when it means making those kind of choices. And they do have to be made, unfortunately; we can’t jump ship now.”
After the mild euphoria of yesterday, when they’d finally reached a genuine safe haven, however unorthodox, Charlie’s news left the sisters despondent again. They spent the morning in the drawing room, watching a big AV projection pillar to find out what was happening.
At first they switched between London’s news shows, then Louise found the house’s processors allowed her to access the security sensors studding the Westminster Dome’s geodesic framework. She was also able to superimpose the police tactical display grid over their peerless view of the streets and parks. They could follow events in real time, without the intrusive commentary and speculation from reporters. Not that there was much to see. An occasional running figure. Pulses of bright white light flaring behind closed windows. Police cars converging on a building, heavily armed officers moving inside. Sometimes they came out, hauling possessed off to zero-tau pods. Sometimes they didn’t, leaving a circle of empty cars blocking off the surrounding streets, their strobe lights flashing red and blue in futile distress. Local council offices and precinct stations would burst into flames without warning. No fire appliances came to their rescue. When the government facility concerned had been consumed, the flames mysteriously died away, leaving a blackened husk of crumbling masonry trapped between two unblemished buildings.
Reports from dwindling police patrols and the AI’s monitor programs indicated that small bands of the possessed were moving round by using the tube lines and utility service tunnels. As they infiltrated themselves across the arcology, electrical supplies failed in several districts. Then corresponding sections of the communication net went dead. More and more street-level cameras were targeted, showing a snatched glance of impacting white fire before dying. Rover reporters began to go off-air in mid-sensevise. Police datavises also fell, faster than possessed assaults against them could statistically account for. GISD estimated the desertion rate to be reaching forty per cent.
There was still a curfew operating across London, but Govcentral was no longer enforcing it.
Servitor chimps ambled into the drawing room around mid-morning and began packing away the ancient silverware and vases. Their preparations emphasised how desperate the situation was becoming, despite the physical distance between the house and London.
Louise caught sight of Charlie through one of the open patio doors; he was taking his two Labradors for a walk across the lawn. She and Gen hurried out after him.
He stopped at a gate in the row of yew trees, waiting for them to catch up. “I just wanted to give the dogs one last walk,” he said. “We’ll probably leave tomorrow morning. You’ll have to start packing again, I’m afraid.”
Gen knelt down and stroked the golden Labrador. “You’re not leaving them here, are you?”
“No. They’ll be put in zero-tau; I’m definitely taking them with me. And a great deal more, of course. I’ve spent centuries building up my little collection of knickknacks. One does become dreadfully sentimental about the stupidest things. I own four domes like this in various parts of the world, each with a different climate. There’s a lot of occupation invested in them. Still, look on the bright side, I can literally take the memories with me.”
“Where are you going to go?” Louise asked.
“I’m not sure, to be honest,” Charlie said. “I’ll need a developed world as a base if I want to retain control of my industrial assets. Kulu is hardly going to welcome me, the Saldanas are very territorial. New Washington, possibly, I have influence there. Or I might germinate an independent habitat somewhere.”
“But it’s only going to be temporary, isn’t it?” Louise urged. “Just until we find an answer to all this.”
“Yes. Assuming Dexter doesn’t come gunning for all of us. He’s quite a remarkable person in his own repellent way, at least as competent as Capone. I didn’t expect him to consolidate his hold over London quite so quickly. One more mistake added to a depressingly long list.”
“What will you do? The President isn’t going to order the SD strike, is he? The news said the senate has gone into closed session.”
“No, he won’t fire today. London’s safe from him, at least. Unless he sees red clouds hovering over the domes, he doesn’t consider the possessed capable of endangering the rest of the world.”
“That’s it then, we just leave?”
“I am doing my best, Louise. I’m still trying to locate Dexter’s actual position. There’s still a chance I can use the anti-memory against h
im. I’m convinced he’s somewhere in the centre of the old city, that’s where he’s concentrated his blackout procedures. If I can just get someone close enough to him, he can be eliminated. We’ve built a projector that uses bitek processors, it should work long enough even with the possessed ability to glitch electronics.”
“The possessed can sense the thoughts of anyone hostile to them. Nobody dangerous would get near to him.”
“Ordinarily, yes. But we do have one ally. Calls himself the friend of Carter McBride. A possessed who hates Dexter, and has the courage to oppose him. And I know he’s in London; he could probably get close enough. The problem is, he’s as elusive as Dexter.”
“Fletcher could have helped,” Gen said. “He really hated Dexter. And he wasn’t afraid of him, either.”
“I know,” Charlie said. “I’m considering if I should ask him.”
Louise gave him a blank look, sure she’d misheard. “You mean Fletcher is still here?”
“Well yes,” Charlie said, as if surprised at her surprise. “He’s been kept in GISD’s secure holding facility up in the Halo, helping our science team research the physics of possession. They haven’t made much progress, I’m afraid.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Louise asked weakly. It was the most wonderful news, even though it was accompanied by guilt for the man whose body Fletcher was possessing. There was also the knowledge she’d have to mourn all over again eventually. But . . . he was still with them. That made all the complications bearable.
“I thought it best not to. You’d both managed to put him behind you. I’m sorry.”
“Then why tell us now?” she asked, angry and suspicious.
“Desperate times,” Charlie replied levelly.
“Oh.” Louise slumped as understanding arrived. She began to wonder just how deep his manipulation went. “I’ll ask him for you.”
“Thank you, Louise.”
“On one condition. Genevieve is taken to Tranquillity. Today.”
The Naked God - Faith nd-6 Page 32