She gave me a close description of the arresting party. What a difference it made when the victim was a trained professional and could give you precise, detailed information. She’d printed off her statement and signed it already. They hadn’t been detained long – just locked in an interview room for a few hours. Unlike Helena, Aurelia had kept her cellphone in her inside pocket when they were arrested and, once locked up, she’d simply texted Silvia. From a detached professional viewpoint, that custody sergeant needed shooting – sloppy not to have searched them.
Silvia had been told by two of the renegade senators that the Mitelae were behind a coup. She couldn’t consult with her chancellor, Conrad’s uncle, Quintus Tellus, as he was away in Geneva and “there was a communications problem”, the PGSF signals office had claimed. Superbus, now lording over the PGSF – the treacherous bastard – had ordered the arrest of Conrad, Aurelia and the children.
Silvia hadn’t believed a word, and ordered the women’s and children’s immediate release. She’d reluctantly agreed to Conrad’s detention, not dreaming what they’d do to him, but insisted on no more than house arrest for Aurelia and the children until the situation clarified. I guessed Superbus obeyed, thinking it didn’t matter as, within a few hours, Petronax would have launched the real coup and Silvia would be permanently out of play soon afterwards.
‘I was more worried about Helena,’ my grandmother said. ‘Oh, I think she’s been to some slightly risky parties and there was that kidnap business with Renschman six years ago…’
Jeffrey Renschman – my father’s first-born child who’d grown into a psychopath and hunted me down in retribution for the misery he thought my father had caused him. I shuddered at the memory of how he’d threatened to kill Helena. I remembered the sense of betrayal and, to be honest, anger at my father for never having mentioned I had a half-brother. That came later after I was recovering in hospital from my near-fatal fight with Jeffrey. He’d cracked his head as he’d dropped to the ground and went into a deep coma, dying not long after.
‘… but she’s never been touched by this kind of brutal political conflict,’ Nonna continued. ‘Like a lot of professional people, she hasn’t a clue about what I did and you do.’ She smiled at me, one soldier to another. ‘Shame they don’t still do compulsory service.’
I let that one go. I couldn’t really see Helena in a uniform.
I hadn’t analysed why I did what I did. It seemed so natural for me. Service to the state was a complex idea. Some clever political scientist could say it a lot better than an ex-advertising account handler. It wasn’t always desperately comfortable; we had to make some harsh decisions and slog on through impossible situations. Serving your team, building relationships that literally saved your life, submitting to discipline, going into situations no sane person would – this was all part of it. Anyway, the uniform was cool, and you were given a free drink now and then.
‘Do you feel better now you’ve told me?’ she said.
‘To be honest, I’m not sure. We still have all the clearing up to do – just think of the paperwork!’ I glanced away. ‘And I’m dreading the fallout amongst my colleagues when the whole story comes out.’
‘And Superbus?’
‘Oh, gods! What an embarrassment for the family. He’ll have some fancy lawyer who’ll spin it out and our name will be dragged through the courts. I’m so sorry about that, Nonna.’
‘It’s not your fault, darling. Unfortunate he wasn’t caught in crossfire, but never mind. However, I think the family may be able to help if he proves intractable. Do you know Dalina Mitela’s daughter?’
Nonna smiled like an Egyptian sphinx and outlined a possible idea…
Back in our wing, I changed into jeans and tee and went up to the children’s dayroom. Helena was clearing up the morning’s activities. She gave me a tight smile and nodded. Allegra was sitting at the table finishing some writing. She looked up and saw my face, smiled and walked over to me, far too calmly.
‘Hello, Mama,’ she said, her face serious.
‘Hello, darling.’ I gently folded my good arm around her.
‘What happened to your arm? Did those men hurt you as well?’
‘I’m fine. I’ll tell you over lunch.’
She just hugged me. As I pulled back, I saw two tiny tears roll down her face.
We ate our macaroni and cheese, Gil and Tonia being messy and showing off, Allegra giving them disapproving looks. I sympathised with her.
‘They are pretty disgusting, aren’t they?’ I whispered to her. ‘But they’ll get better, you know.’
She looked at me doubtfully.
Helena carted the twins off to clean them up before their nap and Allegra and I talked some more.
‘Have you killed all the bad guys?’
I swallowed hard. ‘One, but the rest are in jail, and will stay there for a long time. As well as punishing them, we have to teach them to change their minds and not go around being nasty to other people just for what they are.’
She absorbed that. ‘So they were thinking bad things?’
‘Well, everybody’s allowed to think anything they want. Most people have a lot of different thoughts, and that’s fine. But it’s not allowed to act on bad thoughts if it’s going to hurt other people. Sometimes, soldiers like Daddy and I have to stop and catch these people.’
‘Oh, I see.’ She glanced down and sideways as she twisted her fingers around each other. She brought her eyes back up and searched my face. ‘But they were unkind to hurt you. Is your arm very poorly?’
‘It’s a lot better than it was – better every day.’ I grinned at her. ‘They all keep making me take my medicine.’
She made a face in sympathy.
Right on cue, a knock at the door and a beaker of the damn restorative appeared. I couldn’t believe it. More than that, it was Marcella, Nonna’s assistant, carrying it.
‘The Countess’s compliments and you’re to take this after you’ve finished your lunch, which I believe is now.’ She looked pointedly at the empty plates.
‘Thank you, Marcella.’ I tried to sound sarcastic, but she was being kind, that stifling kindness that people who’ve known you for several years feel they can exert on you.
Allegra was watching me, as was Marcella, so I had to swallow it all down.
Marcella started to go but as she reached the double doors, turned. ‘Welcome home, lady. We’re all delighted to see you back safely.’
I took Allegra down to the swings in the garden. We perched on the seats, idly pushing at the worn patches in the grass with our feet, Allegra’s legs at the perfect angle, mine bent back almost on themselves. Helena’s assistant brought out some milk and biscuits which we ate sitting side by side at the picnic table with the blue and white segmented umbrella shading us from the strong sun.
I sought my daughter’s hand and held it in mine. ‘Allegra, do you want to tell me about when the men took you all away?’ I cringed inside, not knowing what to expect.
‘They were cruel and noisy. The twins cry at anything, so they don’t count.’ How hard children were to each other.
‘Why did they push Nonna and slap Helena?’ she asked. ‘We hadn’t done anything wrong – I always try to be good. So why did they hurt us?’ Her face didn’t show distress or upset, just bewilderment. ‘Helena said they were bad men obeying bad orders from that smelly Superbus. But they looked like soldiers, like you and Daddy.’
‘Oh, darling, they were a different type of soldier. Not very good ones. I’ll show you some pictures of different sorts, if you’d like, so you can see the difference.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘So I know for next time.’
I hugged her tightly to me. After a few minutes, I released her and said, ‘Allegra, I’m going to do my very best to make sure there won’t be a next time.’
‘I know you will, Mama, but, as Great Nonna says, you never know.’ She looked straight at me. ‘Will you punish the ones that were cruel to u
s?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, well. That’s all right then.’
We walked back, hand in hand. In the dayroom, we kissed and I left her with Helena.
I was far too incensed to start my report. I had to calm down first, so I went and talked to Aurelia again. I told her about my conversation with Allegra. One of Helena’s friends, a cognitive counsellor specialising with children, had started sessions with Allegra, but Nonna thought Allegra would get over it reasonably quickly now that I’d started the healing process with her. I wasn’t too sure that was what I’d done, but Nonna seemed confident.
I tried for an hour and a half to draft the bones of my report for Conrad and managed to flesh out part of it as well, but it was a struggle. I had an ergonomic desk in the office in the apartment, a comfortable, personally-contoured chair, perfect lighting – everything of the best. Normally, I could sit there forever. This evening, I found I had to stretch, rub my neck, stare out of the window, and flex my legs. I let my arm out of its sling and made it attempt a few picking up exercises around the rest of the office. I drew the drapes, filed some papers, played with the paperclip pile. Eventually, I ground to a halt, saved my draft, password-protected it and messaged it to my secure storage box at the barracks. After a quick sandwich, I put my uniform back on and went on duty.
XXIX
Before reporting to the Interrogation Service, I checked in at my strategy office for mail and requested a couple of slots with Julia Sella for the next day. An email from outside pinged in. [email protected].
Justus! Crap squared. I was toast.
Knowing I should know better, I opened it. It was very formally worded and had numerous attachments. A second one pinged in. More attachments. He’d sent everything we’d uncovered – statements, recordings, reports, photos – all of it. I stared at the screen, unable to move. It had penetrated the security check system. Albinus was a real smart Harry. The internal security section had been disbanded. What was I supposed to do with this bunch of stuff? My finger hovered over the Delete button. How easy to tap and erase the two emails and save myself a shovel-load of trouble. Except, of course, there’d have been copies saved automatically on the central registry.
I closed down, locked up and reported to the interrogation centre, as requested.
Unfortunately, Somna was on duty. She was a professional soldier of many years’ standing, extremely effective at her job as senior interrogator. Conrad had enormous respect and liking for her. I was biased, having been on the receiving end several years ago. I’d always felt nervous around her.
Despite the name, the Interrogation Service mostly used psychological techniques, persistent questioning, hours of it, sometimes the odd chemical, but that was strictly regulated. They just sat there, going on and on at you. They didn’t interact or show a flicker of emotion. One favourite of theirs was when three of them sat in a circle around you and just stared. Didn’t sound too bad but, after an hour, most people start gibbering.
Somna had been a captain working with Conrad on the Pulcheria case when I’d first encountered her seven years ago. I’d been brought in as the chief suspect. The interrogation had taken a dangerous turn, and I’d ended up holding Somna in a threatening death grip. When the DJ had identified me as their agent and had me released from PGSF custody, she’d simply nodded at me and said, ‘My respects,’ and walked away. She was one of the few who knew the full story. Her only reaction when I joined the PGSF was a tiny jolt of recognition in her normally expressionless eyes. Nothing since.
The duty sergeant directed me to her door. I swallowed hard, which was difficult with a dry mouth, and knocked.
‘Enter.’
‘Good evening, ma’am.’
‘Ah, Captain Mitela, glad to see you.’ She smiled at me. ‘How’s the report coming along?’
‘Um, quite well, ma’am. I’d hoped I might be able to work on it tonight. However, something’s come up.’
Her grey eyes showed a flicker of interest.
‘I’ve had a couple of emails with some sensitive attachments. I would have reported it to the internal security office, but there isn’t one now.’
‘No,’ she said dryly and glanced at my sling.
‘So who would I inform?’
‘Sepunia and I are combining forces for the present. Our teams are working their way steadily through their whole set-up and work history. Why don’t you run it past me?’
‘May I log on to my account here and show you?’
‘Please.’ She moved aside from her keyboard and waved me to it. Wired as I was, sitting closely to her made me even more hot and uncomfortable. I forced myself to breathe evenly and slowly while downloading everything from Justus. Somna stared at the screen, her eyes darting in synch as if they were interacting directly with the information and images on it. A smile grew on her face like some alien construct. She looked like she’d been taken on a world tour of interrogation conferences, all expenses paid.
After she’d seen everything once, her hand darted out and she jabbed a button on her commset. ‘Longina, get in here. Stat.’ She didn’t shout, but it was on its way there.
A tall brunette, slender beyond skinny, came in; another one with a smooth, expressionless face. Was there a special factory turning them out? But, as she leaned over to the screen and absorbed the contents, she was moved to say, ‘Fuck me!’ which I thought was appropriate, but entirely unexpected from a robot.
‘Right, Mitela, start telling us about this lot.’
It went on for hours. True to type, they were relentless. Not in a hostile way, but like thirsty vampires, natural to them. I felt sucked out by the time we’d finished. Almost everything was acceptable. Somna regretted that I’d stamped on Pisentius’s foot and kicked Cyriacus, but it didn’t invalidate it.
‘Although a little crude from a professional point of view, for an untrained interrogator I think you did very well,’ Somna commented. I ignored the patronising tone and almost passed out with surprise at her praise.
‘I didn’t realise Jus— they were making recordings,’ I said. Sneaky bastard.
Longina took me to find a drink. Thank the gods. I was gasping.
‘That’s a goldmine, Captain.’ She held her hand out. Her handshake was dry and unbelievably firm.
I reciprocated and smiled back at her, relieved that it was mostly legal as well as useful.
‘The Colonel will want your report even more urgently now.’
‘Well, there’s quite a bit more to go in. It may take a few days.’
I was trying to put off the inevitable confrontations. Now, not only Conrad was on my case but Somna as well.
‘Let me know if you’d like to observe any of the sessions,’ Longina said.
She smiled, and I think she meant it kindly, like she was conferring a favour, but I passed for that shift. My nerves were still jangling from talking to Somna, and I needed to give them a break.
Instead, she gave me a quick tour of the service’s work and organisation. I was fascinated by the analysis and compilation facilities. I saw now there was much more work in this function than in the physical interaction with the prisoners – the iceberg syndrome, I guessed.
‘So how are the interrogations going generally?’ I asked.
‘We’ve wrapped up Aburia now. Her hearing before a military tribunal is scheduled for next week. Obviously, you’ll be called, so I’ll get a legal staffer in to brief you tomorrow or the next day.’
She consulted her screen. ‘Sextus Cornelius is wrapped. He’s being transferred to the remand centre for psychological reports. Ah! There’s a new note – the Cornelia Family legal officer is to support him. Lucky boy! They’ll bring a top-rate lawyer in for him. Not that it’ll make any difference.’
I didn’t want to shatter her illusions. Sextus would probably tell the legal officer to go stick herself.
‘Caeco, Pisentius, Trosius and Cyriacus were work in progress but, with your material today,’
she raised her head from the screen and smiled, ‘we’ve made a quantum jump.’
I seemed to have made somebody’s day, at least.
I finished just after two in the morning, pleased with the progress I’d made on my report. As she was also going for sleep, Longina introduced me to the early shift supervisor, Porteus. Somna was still welded to her desk but would probably nap for a few hours later, Longina said.
It was quiet in the IS general office: just the hum of computers, a vidscreen on low volume, and a few people working at desks. Desks were arranged open-plan in continuous worktops with a generous space for each workstation. I thought it resembled mission control in Houston. A meeting table and chairs occupied the corner opposite the entrance to Somna’s office. It looked like any boring workplace, but, of course, it wasn’t.
I tapped on the door frame of Colonel Sella’s office at 08.30 next morning. ‘I’m sorry to have made such a short-notice appointment, ma’am, but I wonder if you could do me a small favour.’
‘Well, you can certainly ask,’ she said.
That jarred. Her usual friendly tone was gone, her expression neutral with no smile. Nevertheless, I had to get this done. ‘I have a young cousin, Lucilla Mitela. She’s a student at the Central University, and she’s been working at the library over the vacation, down in the archives. She’s finished there now but still has three weeks to fill. I wondered if I could use her for some routine input work here?’
‘Fill in an application form online and I’ll approve it then.’
‘She’s filled it out. I have her CV and character affidavit right here,’ I said. ‘And her security form.’
She looked at me with a sucked-in face. ‘Do I get the impression you’re trying to steamroller me?’
‘Not at all, ma’am, but she only has three weeks, and it can take a week to process these things, at best. I promised her.’ I smiled with what I hoped was an appealing expression.
‘You’re not going away until I approve it, are you?’
I judged it better to say nothing.
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