by Roger Levy
‘He was better than good. I’m ex-military too, but that degree of invisibility was beyond any training I had.’
‘What had he done since military?’
‘Merc and sec, mainly,’ he said. ‘Not as much drinking and drugs as you’d think.’
‘Mercenaries pick up all sorts of tricks.’ She considered it. ‘And security. His security work was for the infotech industry? Of course it was. Who else employs people like that? And he was necessarily paranoid, as the industry is, and he was following his crazy plan. Nothing too curious there. He was just a crazy with a crazy plan.’
They trudged on along the promenade. ‘Okay,’ Bale said. ‘What if it wasn’t his plan at all? What if it was someone else’s plan, Razer?’
‘Mine, you mean?’
Bale said nothing.
‘It was a joke, Bale.’
‘I’m serious.’
‘I suppose it’s possible, two paranoid psychopaths feeding off each other. I imagine they’d more likely implode, though, one kill the other. No one came to Bleak with Fleschik?’
‘We only identified Fleschik because we had his corpse and then struck lucky, so how would we know? But no, no one suspicious. Discounting you.’
‘I assume you checked Tallen’s background as well as his last movements. You’re not thinking that, are you? He couldn’t be this other crazy of yours?’
‘Tallen’s a sad loner, is all.’
Razer glanced at Bale, but he seemed unaware that he was describing himself. She looked back at the sewage pipe. Two people could easily have dragged Tallen’s body up there. She said, ‘Well, even if some other crazy is still out there, you’ve done all you can. Pax won’t let you back. You can’t stay here. Maybe that’s a good thing. They’re doing you a favour, Bale. Another place, you can forget this and start again.’
‘I’ll consider it. Maybe I’ll stay. I’m used to it here.’
‘What could you do?’
‘I know the Chute. I’d work that.’
She said, ‘You’re not letting this go, are you?’
He said, ‘You want to ride the Chute with me, Razer?’
She sighed, then grinned. ‘What do you think?’
Twenty-two
ALEF
SigEv 28 A plan ends, a plan begins
For a while, that was the end of the excitement. Pellonhorc vanished again. It would have taken him about two weeks to travel back to the Eden String. Every night of that week I dreamt of him and of our childhood on Gehenna. I had dreams of betrayal and of punishment. I knew I should have told him the truth, that he might be returning to his death. It was what Father Grace would have called a sin of omission.
Two weeks passed, and a few days more, and I started to relax.
And then Drame called me to his office. Even over the comms, I knew something serious was wrong. Drame waved me to take a seat. He said, ‘I had a message from Ligate, Alef.’ He didn’t wait, just raised it on the big screen.
I was shaking. I knew what I was going to see, and it was all my own responsibility.
Ligate’s head came into view. ‘I have something of yours, Ethan. I wonder if you can guess what it is. I was hoping I could return it in person, but you didn’t arrive to collect it.’ The screen cleared.
‘Is that it?’ I asked. ‘Nothing else?’
He nodded.
‘What has he got of yours?’
‘I don’t know. My spy’s gone quiet. And…’ He trailed off. This was unlike him.
‘And Belleger?’ I prompted.
He took a long breath. ‘Belleger can look after himself. We’ll hear from him once he’s got to Ligate.’ He swallowed. ‘We go down Belleger’s route now, Alef. No more talk. Your plan failed, I’ve lost him.’
I was lost. I said, ‘Your spy? You think he’s got your spy?’
‘I don’t care about the spy. I don’t even know who the spy was. But his contact was Pellonhorc, and he’s disappeared.’
‘Pellon –’ I saw it, now, or thought I did. Ligate had uncovered the spy, and through the spy he’d caught Pellonhorc. And I was as much to blame for it as Ethan Drame. Drame had not forewarned him, and nor had I.
A few days later, a parcel arrived. It was addressed personally to Ethan Drame. It was beamed and scanned and brought to Drame’s office, and Drame called me in to see him open it. He knew what was in it, of course, from the scans, but I didn’t.
The parcel’s contents were cradled in bright yellow gift paper, and beneath the thin paper was a heat-sealed, temperature-stable, pressurised clear polythene bag marked HANDLE WITH CARE – HUMAN ORGAN IN TRANSIT.
Drame slit the bag open with his pocket blade. The abrupt release of pressure came with a gasp of gas, and we both caught our breath at the stench as the head tumbled heavily onto the desk and came to rest on its left ear.
Drame used the tip of the knife to turn the head towards him. It was eyeless and open-mouthed. The tongue was sticking out, or so I thought, and it was oddly swollen. But of course it wasn’t the tongue at all.
Drame poked at the head. Apart from the stink, it seemed fresh. Clots of blood came away to expose how the face had been mutilated. The cheekbones were caved in and most of the teeth had gone too, so it was hard to recognise him, but it wasn’t Pellonhorc. I knew that immediately. I knew that Pellonhorc had had his foreskin removed.
‘Belleger,’ Drame whispered.
* * *
That night, I walked for hours, and then I went to the café. After an hour, Pellonhorc walked in and sat beside me.
‘Hello, Alef.’
It didn’t surprise me that he was here. I don’t think anything would have surprised me just then.
‘How did my father take it?’
‘You knew about it?’
‘There were rumours.’
‘I think your father thought it was going to be you.’
‘He was disappointed, then.’
I laughed. It was crazy. It was all crazy. When I stopped laughing, I said, ‘Haven’t you spoken to him? What are you doing here?’ I couldn’t stop the questions tumbling out. ‘How did Ligate get Belleger? What happened to Drame’s spy? How did you get out of the String?’
He shook his head and called a couple of drinks over. We drank them and left, walking quickly through the streets until we reached Pellonhorc’s block. I wanted to know everything immediately. I couldn’t wait. Pellonhorc walked quickly, then slowly, checking we weren’t followed. He seemed perfectly calm.
‘So,’ he told me, once we were seated at his little table. ‘There is no spy. Which is to say, I’m my father’s spy.’
‘You? You’re close to Ligate?’
‘I’m very close. Even my father doesn’t know. It took me a long time, Alef. It’s taken years. I’m part of his victory. It’s perfect, isn’t it? Ethan Drame’s own son, turned against him.’
I saw my weave, all of it making sense. ‘You gave him the Eden String.’
‘Not just that, Alef. I gave him the idea, too. All of it.’
My head was reeling. ‘Why?’
‘You’ll see why.’
‘Your father –’
‘It’s all for him, Alef. Like we said, remember? To prove myself to him.’
‘Like this? By destroying him?’
‘Don’t be stupid.’ He paused. ‘Why didn’t you warn me? I gave you the chance.’
‘I –’ But of course I had no answer.
‘You were scared of him. It’s all right, Alef. I had to know.’ He looked at me and away again. ‘I guessed you’d see Ligate’s plan developing, and that he’d send a team to kill Ligate. Belleger wasn’t too hard to find.’
‘You gave Belleger to Ligate?’
‘I needed Ligate to trust me absolutely.’
I could see Belleger’s head on the table in Ethan Drame’s office, with his penis stuffed in his mouth. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I’ve promised my father to Ligate. The lure is the same as Belleger tol
d me you had planned for Ligate, only this is far better.’ He grinned. ‘Ligate is coming to Peco.’
‘I don’t believe that.’ I had a sense of everything spiralling down and away from me. It all made perfect sense, and yet it was insane.
‘Listen to me, Alef. My father’s new house. Does he still visit the site every month?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then bring him yourself this time. I shall be there with Ligate. Ligate can’t decide if it would be sweeter to have me kill my father, or to do it himself. You have no idea, Alef, how excited he is. To be able to touch my father.’ He slapped my shoulder in his excitement, uncomfortably hard. ‘He says to me, Alef, “I shall reach him.”’
Pellonhorc saw how I was looking at him.
‘Of course that isn’t how it’ll be. Don’t be crazy. I’m bringing Ligate to my father. I’m proving myself to him, Alef. This will end it all. I shall finish it all, and he will see it.’
There was a look in his face that I’d seen before. There was no doubt in my mind that he was telling me the truth. I could always see when he was lying, and he wasn’t lying now.
‘How long will it take you to get Ligate here?’
‘He’s in my ship already, docked in the ferry station. I’m above suspicion here. No one would search my ship.’
It took me a moment to realise what he had told me in such a casual voice. Ligate was here on Peco! I pulled myself together and said, ‘Your father goes to the house tomorrow morning, then again next month. We can do it then.’
‘No. It has to be tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow?’ I was hit by panic. ‘Wait –’
‘I’ve been preparing this for a long time, Alef.’ His voice was tightening. ‘Waiting’s risky. It’s already fixed. Ligate’s nervous. I’m telling you because you’re my friend. I’m not asking you.’ He softened. ‘You don’t need to do a thing. I’ll be ready before you arrive. Just you and my father, is that clear?’
I nodded.
I had consented. I was part of it.
I thought of Solaman again, his head tipping as he asked his wordriddle question, and in my mind I answered, ‘Solution. Solve.’
Twenty-three
TALLEN
The thrummer pilot put his head through the capsule doorway and said, ‘I’m green to go, rigger. Three minutes. I’m not supposed to tell you, but this is the time to say no. Once we’re up, it’s too late. I don’t carry the fuel to bring us both back.’
‘I know. I’m set.’ Tallen was running the harness through his hands, checking it for knots. It was damp and smelt faintly acrid.
The pilot nodded. ‘And this is the last time I’ll see you face-open. Once we’re in the high weather, you’re just cargo to be flushed. All that concerns me is my machine. Are you clear on that?’
‘I’m clear.’
This time the pilot smiled. ‘Okay, check your gear and harness up. Tight as you can. You’ve got your dismount routine straight?’
‘Yes.’
‘You nervous?’
‘No.’
‘You should be. Try not to puke on the webbing.’
The pilot slid his mask down and Tallen was staring at himself stretched wide over the curved black glass of the pilot’s headset. Tallen shrugged the harness on and yanked the straps tight, then checked it again. He recognised its smell as old vomit, and found it almost comforting. The weight was unexpected as he tried to stand, dragging at his shoulders and hips. It took him three goes to get to his feet. The pilot said, ‘Keep still while I take us up, and no sharp movements once we’re high. This machine’s finely tuned and I don’t need loose baggage. You hear?’
‘Yes.’
‘Not much of a talker. Not many of you are, but you, you’re totally power-down. Is that just about you or is it the reality hit, you think?’
‘I’ve already had my reality hit, thanks.’
Tallen couldn’t read the pilot’s face behind the shield, and he couldn’t read the stretched reflection of his own, either. He wasn’t sure if he was calm or simply empty.
The pilot waited a moment more, then said, ‘Good.’ His visor threw Tallen’s image around the small hold as he nodded. ‘Time comes, you won’t need to stand up. Just tip forward like you did in the simmed drops. When the door opens, adrenaline’ll take over. Okay. When we get there, I’m going in wayhigh and I’m going to stay as high as fuel allows. It means you get a longer fall, but you’re more likely to hit the net first off. I’ve only ever lost one on the drop.’
‘And high’s safer for you.’
‘And that, yeah.’ The comms blipped off and on again, the pilot’s voice a notch lower as he said, ‘I’m supposed to advise you to try to rest, but no one ever does. You want the screenery on, or you’d rather not look down?’
‘I’ll watch.’
‘Fine.’ He paused. ‘Pardon me for this, but are you taking anything? Only if you’re tranked, you won’t be sharp enough for the drop.’
‘I’m clean.’
‘Sure?’
‘I’ve said.’
The pilot’s helmet shook. ‘Well, not my problem, but no one’s ever as flat as this going out.’ He pointed a gloved finger at Tallen’s head and said, ‘There’s business going on.’ And with that, he closed the door and was gone.
The air sucked and Tallen’s ears popped. As he realised he was sealed in the hold, the harness buckles jerked at his shoulders and waist. While he could still adjust the tension, he couldn’t release himself.
The thrummer juddered and shook, then tilted hard, lifted sharply and stabilised. The screenery came up, and Tallen was gazing down over Lookout. He could see the dome as a blur, and far away to the west the rigyard with its flocks of crane-beaks and seeming wreckage. Then they were over the sea and rising still until the water was a speckled veil of grey on grey. The thrummer rose higher, the sea becoming like brushed shale, and then they were through the thin cloud and into the blue. A readout faded up at the base of the screen.
AIRSPEED 285KPH ETA RIG 5H48M
TURBULENCE 0.67 GRAVITY FLUCTUATION WITHIN 2.6G
The harness abruptly slackened.
RESTRAINT RELAXED. YOU ARE STRONGLY ADVISED TO EXERCISE
Tallen stood up with difficulty. He walked towards the pilot’s door, but the harness cable pulled him up a metre short of it. He walked back again, and found the leash would let him come within a metre of the hull in any direction. He walked a while, forward and back, then sat down again and adjusted the webbing to be as comfortable as possible.
There was nothing on the screenery. The thrummer banked and Tallen fought back a jerk of nausea, swallowing bile. The pull of the webbing at his shoulders brought a flashback to the hospital, and he closed his eyes to a tableau of masked faces, men staring, pulling at him, holding him down to bind him with straps, no, bandages, and himself screaming at the grinding pain. Had that been the hospital? His memories seemed disordered.
The heavy whine of the motor bored into his skull. Tallen gasped air and tried to shut away the rest of the memory, the rush of footsteps and then the shearing pain in his side, and the explosion in his skull. He remembered screaming…
Then an instant of perfect silence immediately replaced by the steady, harsh thrum of the machine, and it was diving and banking hard. The harness was tight, squeezing breath from him, lashing him down. Tallen found the screenery, focused on it. Something smelt bad.
‘Hey, cargo. You awake now?’
The sea down there wasn’t grey any longer, just a flux of white foam and black shadow. Tallen licked his lips. They tasted foul.
‘I said, you awake?’
‘Yes.’ Tallen could smell puke. It was all over him, starting to crust.
‘You okay?’
‘I think I puked.’
‘You did that before we were even out of the cloud. I told you about that. How are you going to survive a rig? You were screaming and throwing yourself around. Trying to. You remember any of that?’
‘I – No.’
‘I said you were too calm. I said it, didn’t I?’
‘What was I shouting?’
‘No idea.’ The pilot clicked off, then was back. ‘Not carried a sane rigger yet.’ A pause. ‘I had to gas you. I have to ask, are you going to try that again? I’ve never dropped unconscious cargo yet, but it’s in the manual.’
‘I’m okay.’ Tallen wiped his mouth with the back of a hand. ‘How soon will we be there?’
‘We are there. Watch your screenery.’
The sea bucked and twisted, and Tallen saw the rig slur back and forth across the screen and then momentarily centre and hold. The sea slewed over the rig’s framework, erasing and revealing it. It seemed fragile and tiny.
‘You all set?’
‘No. Wait.’ Tallen pulled his headset down and locked it at the neck, checked his boots. The thrummer banked sharply. ‘I said wait.’
‘Going in ten. And nine, and eight…’
Pushing his hands into the gloves, he made fists and felt the cuffs lock, sealing him into the dropsuit as the harness began to yank him towards the doorframe. He grunted as the suit bloated and pressurised.
‘… and three, and two…’
The helmet air tasted sour as the door slid away.
Lean and tip forward, Tallen remembered, trying to move into position, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t think now, and just watched as the harness cable jerked taut over his head, and then the floor was gone and he was hauled out of the machine and swinging in emptiness. Only it wasn’t emptiness at all, this solid slam of air throwing him around, and it was impossible to breathe.
And he was coming round in the hospital, though the memory was again disordered, this was before the hospital, and he took a deep breath of the gas to try to stay under, not wanting to remember, but the lungful of helmet air brought him back to the insane wind that was hurling him like a feather in a hurricane, the cable broken and Tallen just falling free.
And he was brought up sharply as the cable took his weight. He looked around, dizzy, and saw the thread of line curling away to the hazy grey dot of the thrummer.
He looked in the other direction. Down? In the sims there had been clarity between up and down and the ship and the sea, but here were just looming shapes, blurred spars and bars. There was no sky and no sea, just the crash of black water overwhelming even gravity. He didn’t even know if he was still falling.