Liberator

by Richard Harland

  ‘Why not bring in the Swanks to help? There may be previous examples. That’s the sort of thing they can find out about.’

  Yes, thought Col, that’s exactly the sort of thing Septimus and the Professor can do. And if they manage to locate the Maxim guns as well . . .

  ‘No,’ said Lye. ‘We don’t need them. They’re just waiting for their chance to go over to their fellow Imperialists.’

  ‘This is a battle for survival,’ Riff insisted.

  ‘Yes, and they’ll make sure of their survival by helping the Russians. They know what’ll happen to them if we win.’

  ‘What?’

  Lye shook her jet-black hair, which gleamed and flashed under the lights of the chandelier. She turned to the crowd and raised her voice.

  ‘We don’t need traitors on our side. We don’t need fence-sitters. We need strong, pure souls who can change the world. Who will change the world! A hundred strong, pure souls to lead the assault!’

  She was filled with burning conviction and absolute belief. Her voice had the same thrilling intensity that Col had overheard in Riff’s bedroom.

  ‘The Imperialists fight only out of self-interest. But we fight for something bigger than ourselves. We fight for justice. For a world made fair and equal. What we do now lights a beacon for the oppressed. We make a revolution here in our hearts that will last a thousand years. Win or lose, live or die, the whole world will hear about us!’

  ‘It sounds like you want to die,’ Riff interjected, as Lye paused for breath.

  ‘I’m not afraid to die. I’m not going to hide and cower as though I’m in the wrong. I’m prepared to die because I’m in the right. We’re all in the right. This is our test, to prove ourselves. Our truth over their lies! Our justice over their tyranny! Our future over their past!’

  She was magnificent. Col didn’t want to admit it, but she was. Her beauty only added to the effect. He could see Gansy watching her with shining eyes, Padder following her every move with admiration.

  When she raised her arm and shook her fist, people imitated the gesture all around the hall. There was a general murmur of approval and a forest of fists in the air.

  Only Col kept his arm at his side. It was a serious mistake, marking him out as different. The red armbands nearby turned and stared, becoming aware of him for the first time.

  ‘Swank here!’ one called out.

  ‘Traitor!’

  ‘Spy!’

  Col tried to shake off the hands that clamped down on his shoulders. Too late. He scanned the faces all around him, and none of them were friendly.

  ‘Bring him forward!’ came the order from the front.

  Col found himself propelled roughly towards the front of the hall. Riff and Lye were still on their chairs, with the other Council members standing between them.

  Shiv eyed Col with cold distaste. ‘He heard our plan of attack.’

  ‘So what?’ Riff shrugged. ‘He won’t betray us.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘You think he’s going to make hand signals to the Russians?’

  Padder weighed in on Shiv’s side. ‘Someone betrayed our attack to the soldiers at Botany Bay. We never thought that was possible.’

  ‘Perhaps he’s the saboteur!’ cried someone in the crowd.

  Shiv glanced up at Lye on her chair. ‘Now?’ he asked.

  Perhaps Lye gave a tiny shake of the head; at any rate, she turned her attention to Riff.

  ‘Why do you support him?’ she demanded. ‘He doesn’t deserve it.’

  ‘Yes, he does. He’s a good person. I believe . . .’

  ‘What?’ Lye snapped out the word as Riff hesitated.

  ‘I believe in him.’

  The conversation had become a private exchange between the two of them, conducted over the heads of the other Council members. Then Riff broke the connection. She stepped down from her chair, and went across to stand beside Col.

  ‘I’d trust him with my life,’ she said.

  Col could have bathed in the glow of her words. Padder tried to draw his sister away by the arm, but she refused to budge.

  ‘Don’t do this,’ he muttered.

  Shiv had moved across to stand at the foot of Lye’s chair. ‘Time to announce it,’ he advised her.

  Lye’s gaze bored into Riff’s. ‘He’s a danger to us,’ she said.

  ‘Announce it now,’ Shiv repeated.

  Still Lye’s eyes were locked upon Riff’s. ‘You know he’s a danger to us.’ Her face looked so gaunt it was almost haggard. ‘Shall I announce it?’

  Riff frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Lye switched focus from Riff to the crowd. ‘The saboteur has been discovered!’ she proclaimed in a loud voice. She indicated Col. ‘It’s his wife!’

  Col gasped – along with everyone else in the hall.

  ‘How did you find out?’ he exclaimed.

  His question was lost in the general hubbub.

  ‘Her name is Sephaltina!’ Lye went on remorselessly. ‘She’s been our secret enemy all along!’

  Riff must have been as baffled as Col, but she took a different approach. ‘Wait a minute. He didn’t know what his wife was doing. He didn’t even know she was still on board.’

  ‘No?’ Lye expressed her disbelief in a sneer. ‘Doesn’t seem very surprised, though, does he?’

  Shiv pointed an accusing finger at Riff. ‘What about you? How long have you known?’

  This time, there were gasps of horror as well as amazement. To accuse Riff, the leader of the Liberation . . .

  ‘What’s this?’ Padder rounded on his sister. ‘Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Riff recovered her breath. ‘I was going to tell you.’

  ‘The Imperialist juggernauts turned up,’ said Col. ‘We were working on a deal.’

  It was the wrong thing to say. There was a long moment of silence.

  ‘Deal?’ roared Padder.

  ‘Behind our backs!’ cried someone in the crowd.

  ‘Where’s his wife now?’ Gansy demanded.

  Riff exchanged despairing glances with Col. ‘Er, in the Norfolk Library, I think.’

  ‘What? Still free? With the Swanks?’

  ‘I want the saboteur arrested.’ Lye’s voice lashed out like a whip. ‘And the whole Porpentine family. Starting with him.’

  Half a dozen red armbands jumped forward to secure Col, who decided not to make a fight of it. He could hardly win, and he would only create more trouble for Riff.

  ‘Take him down to the dormitory decks,’ Lye snapped.

  The hall was in an uproar. Shiv stepped up onto the chair vacated by Riff.

  ‘This is an emergency situation,’ he told the crowd. ‘We’re under attack from outside and in. We need emergency powers. I propose a war leadership to take charge of security and our assault on the Russian juggernaut. Since Lye and I planned the assault, we’ll need to be in charge. The other Council members—’

  ‘No, this is wrong!’ Riff turned to appeal to Padder and Gansy. ‘Do something! Take a stand!’

  ‘The other Council members will share in all duties,’ said Lye.

  There was a stamping of feet, and several voices called out, ‘Lye and Shiv!’ ‘Lye and Shiv!’ ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’

  Padder and Gansy appeared at a loss. They were obviously reluctant to go against a crowd so strongly in favour of emergency war leadership.

  ‘It’s a grab for power!’ Riff stormed. ‘It’s a takeover! It’s a new tyranny!’

  But she had no influence on the mood of the crowd. The sound of stamping grew to a thunder, the shouts of approval became a continuous swelling roar.

  Riff glowered at Lye. ‘You won’t get
away with this!’

  Lye’s face was like a mask. ‘Arrest her too,’ she said.

  Col couldn’t believe it. More red armbands leaped forward to seize hold of Riff. She was too surprised to react.

  ‘Take her to the dormitory decks too,’ said Lye, and just for a moment there was a quiver behind the mask. Still she stood erect and maintained her self-control.

  Col expected the crowd to turn against her. Surely they couldn’t allow the leader of the Liberations to be arrested? Surely Lye had gone too far this time?

  But there was no backlash. The crowd continued to roar and stamp their feet. Col scanned around and noticed for the first time just how many red armbands there were. In fact, virtually everyone in the hall wore a red armband – including all the Botany Bay convicts who hadn’t even been present at the time of the Liberation.

  It was then that Col remembered what the Filthy on the Bridge had told him – about Shiv’s security force going around to announce the meeting. Obviously they had announced it only to other red armbands.

  Lye and Shiv had won again.

  Col and Riff were hustled away under a guard of red armbands while the meeting continued. Lye and Shiv had further specific proposals about emergency powers that required endorsement.

  Once outside the Grand Assembly Hall, the red armbands produced leg-irons, which they locked around their prisoners’ ankles. Although they had appeared to spring spontaneously from the crowd, they hardly seemed like random volunteers. Would random volunteers be equipped with leg-irons? Col and Riff were forced to shuffle in small steps with chains dragging between their legs.

  They travelled by steam elevator down to Twentieth Deck. This was one of the dormitory decks, where Menials had once slept. Riff must have slept here too, Col recalled, in the period when she was playing the part of a Menial.

  Their guard of red armbands marched them along main corridors and side corridors. Other red armbands stood on sentry duty at corners and intersections. Their dormitory was dormitory no. 5, according to the label on the door.

  Inside were rows and rows of bunks: bare metal frames supporting narrow racks of crisscross wire. The racks rose one above another like shelves in a bookcase. There were no other occupants.

  The red armbands had a well-practised routine for every operation. While four held Col immobilised, a fifth fastened a chain from the frame of a bunk to the chain between his leg-irons. They repeated the operation with Riff. Someone put a folded grey blanket on each of their bunks, and a bucket nearby. Then they went out, locking the door behind them.

  Col and Riff faced each other across the alley between two rows of bunks. They sat leaning forward, hands on knees.

  ‘How could they have known?’ Riff mused.

  Col understood that she was talking about Lye and Shiv and the saboteur. ‘You didn’t tell anyone?’

  ‘Never mentioned it.’

  They talked over and over what had happened in the Grand Assembly Hall, but the mystery remained.

  ‘Lye and Shiv have been working towards this all along,’ said Col.

  Riff nodded miserably. ‘We’ve been thinking about the Imperialists while they’ve been thinking how to take power.’

  Half an hour later, a different gang of red armbands brought Sephaltina and the rest of the Porpentine family to the same dormitory. They were all shackled in leg-irons

  – Orris, Quinnea, Gillabeth and even little Antrobus. Col’s baby brother carried Murgatrude in his arms.

  When Sephaltina saw Col, she cried out and clapped her hands.

  ‘My husband! Now I’ve found you!’

  Her rosebud lips parted in a childlike smile. Col sat up straighter and distanced himself a little from Riff. Riff looked at him in surprise, then frowned and shrugged.

  When the red armbands fastened each of the new arrivals to the frame of a bunk, Sephaltina ended up on the opposite side of the room to Col.

  ‘It’s not right!’ she objected, and pointed to Riff. ‘I ought to be where she is.’

  Col’s family knew that Liberator had collided with the Russian juggernaut, but not much else. As soon as the red armbands were out of the room, Col gave them the full story of what had happened since. Orris, Gillabeth and Antrobus looked worried, Quinnea looked shaken, and Sephaltina continued to smile as though she hadn’t a care in the world.

  A little later, a further pair of red armbands brought Mr Gibber down to the dormitory, also shackled in leg-irons. He protested and resisted violently. When the red armbands chained him to the same row of bunks as Riff, he kicked out until he lost his balance and fell flat on his face.

  ‘It’s all a mistake! I’ve done nothing wrong!’

  One of the red armbands paused in the doorway. ‘We follow our orders,’ he said.

  Eventually Mr Gibber quietened down, though he still refused to get up from his prone position on the floor. ‘Why pick on me?’ he grumbled.

  ‘Because you’re associated with us,’ Col told him.

  ‘You? You’re Porpentines. I didn’t ask to be associated with you. I’m just a humble ex-schoolteacher.’

  He addressed himself to Col and Riff, since Gillabeth, Orris and Quinnea were absorbed in their own conversation.

  ‘I’ve been disappeared,’ he said. ‘That’s what it is. I’ve been abducted, and nobody knows where. Just like all those others.’

  ‘I suppose they’re imprisoned in other dormitories,’ said Col.

  Riff shook her head. ‘I suspect there’s more to it than this.’

  Mr Gibber snivelled loudly. ‘I’m going to meet the same fate as Dr Blessamy!’

  ‘And Victoria and Albert.’ Col chewed at his lip. ‘Surely they’d show a little compassion to Victoria.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She’s pregnant.’

  Riff clicked her tongue. ‘That’s not good.’

  ‘But if she explains to them . . .’

  ‘I mean, it’s not good if they find out. An heir to the royal family. Can you imagine what Lye and Shiv would think about that?’

  ‘Oh.’ Col fell silent, more depressed than ever. That was an angle he hadn’t considered.

  Mr Gibber had fallen silent too. He yawned and curled himself into a sleeping position on the floor. After a while, Riff spread a blanket over him.

  Gillabeth, Orris, Quinnea and Antrobus had all settled down for sleep. Riff talked on and off with Col, but she was starting to yawn herself.

  ‘I’m tired,’ she told him. ‘I didn’t get a wink last night.’

  She stretched out on her wire rack, rolled herself up in her blanket, and dropped off almost at once.

  Col thought he was the only one to remain awake – until Sephaltina caught his eye across the room. She held up the third finger of her left hand and proudly displayed her wedding ring.

  He groaned inwardly and looked away. Still, he sensed that she was waiting to catch his eye again. To avoid further displays, he pretended to go to sleep himself. He turned in on his wire rack, faced the other way and snuggled under his blanket.

  Soon enough, the pretence became a reality. He drifted off and slept right through until morning.

  A rough bellow aroused him. ‘Wake up, you lot!’

  A dozen red armbands had entered the room.

  ‘Say goodbye to your dormitory,’ yelled one. ‘We’re taking you down.’

  They descended to Bottom Deck. There were armed guards around the stairwells, and newly painted signs on doors and bulkheads.

  NO VISITORS

  ENTRY FORBIDDEN

  THIS AREA PATROLLED

  Col hadn’t visited Bottom Deck for a couple of months. As his eyes adjusted to the shadows and occasional pools of light, he saw that the coal mounds had slipped and fanned out, no doubt under the impac
t of the collision. Large areas were cordoned off by ropes, from which hung more warning signs.

  NO LOITERING

  KEEP OUTSIDE THE ROPES

  SUPERVISED WORKERS ONLY

  BE PREPARED TO SHOW IDENTIFICATION

  The red armbands marched their prisoners forward between the iron piers. Huddled groups of Filthies sat around everywhere, seemingly aimless and dispirited. They were blackened with coal and grease, and looked as all Filthies had looked before the time of the Liberation. Col guessed that they were workers from Below, who tended the great boilers and turbines. Right now, they weren’t tending anything.

  He wondered what had happened. The metal floor was colder than he remembered, and there was no rhythm of thrumming vibrations underfoot. It didn’t bode well for the juggernaut’s engines.

  A hundred paces along, they came to a different group of people, lined up in a queue. Their clothes were dirty, in some cases very dirty, but they were all instantly recognisable as Swanks. They stood with heads hanging, shackled by chains between their feet.

  ‘Now we know what happened to the disappeared,’ Col muttered.

  ‘Lye and Shiv,’ growled Gillabeth behind him. ‘I should’ve guessed.’

  There were forty or fifty Swanks in the queue. Many of the faces were familiar to Col – they looked up and nodded when he went past. Finally he saw Victoria and Albert: Albert with his arm round Victoria’s waist, Victoria with her head against Albert’s shoulder.

  Col waved a hand, and Victoria gave him a sad smile. Albert called out, ‘They got you too, then?’

  Col had no time to answer as he was hustled forward. One of the red armbands thumped him in the back with the butt of a rifle.

  Another ten paces brought them to the end of the queue. Beyond the last of the disappeared, a chain snaked over the floor and looped around the next pier. Col now understood the nature of the queue; the chain stretched from pier to pier, and everyone’s leg-irons were fastened onto it.

  His understanding was confirmed when the red armbands proceeded to fasten his leg-irons onto it.

  He found himself between Riff and Gillabeth. On Gillabeth’s other side was the last of the disappeared – a strange figure swathed in bandages. Col assumed it was a male from his short-cut hair, but his face was entirely covered apart from a slit for the eyes. When Gillabeth was tethered next to him, he uttered indecipherable grunting sounds through his bandages.