Isaac said nothing, but the twins clapped their hands repeatedly, the noise slapping through the quiet room.
“We knew it,” said Remus.
“Mr Chalmers, we know you believe it will take time to find Helena’s father, but we have perhaps a month; the twins, maybe five weeks. Any longer and this conversation may as well never have happened.”
David nodded and then asked, “If you die, doesn’t that achieve the same result? No more advantage for Euros, no more telepaths?”
Isaac laughed, but when he spoke his voice was bitter, “I’d prefer not to die just yet. If there’s to be a sacrificial victim, I’d prefer it to be self-determined.”
“Of course,” said David.
“What will you do when you have the key?” asked Helena.
“We will be free,” said Remus.
“You must hope for more than that.” said Helena.
Isaac replied, “You have seen enough of the world to know that making a life for oneself, free from the interference of others, is a goal worthy in itself.”
She was about to ask something more when Isaac said, “If you leave on the next train, you can be back in London before your working day begins. I don’t see any reason for anyone to wonder why you’re late. Helena, you need to find the Hound. Once we’re free we will go, disappear.”
“No,” said Helena. “Once you’re free you must help me stop this war.”
THE JOURNEY back was quiet. Helena would have gone straight home, except that David asked her to help him deal with the body. For all the information the three telepaths had given them, she had a hundred questions she wanted answering.
Instead she subjected David to her own interrogation. “Why chase Henry’s killer and those who blew up the trade centre?”
“It’s not that simple. I wasn’t working on the trade centre. I just happened to attend the brief when they fingered your pilot as being involved.”
“So why didn’t someone else come calling?”
He shrugged. “They may have done, but no one’s really interested in interviewing an Oligarch about a pilot they met once. They’ve all got his service record. Denholme’s never had a seditious day in his life.”
“How about you? I’m fairly sure you’ve just promised you won’t turn them in to the Company. Do you even get to make that choice?”
She trembled all over as she thought through what she had just done. David was right, what she had agreed flew in the face of everything she had ever chosen to be. Helena pictured explaining her actions to her boss, Alexander, which just made it worse.
She would look like what it was; a deliberate attempt to hide them from him. The bottom was dropping out of her morality, but she couldn’t see any other way of staying in control. What truly spun her around was the probability that even this wouldn’t help her make a difference. Somewhere inside her, she baulked at it, it made her feel sick, just contemplating the implications for her family if she were caught out.
She watched her hands for a while, examining their texture and shape.
How is it possible that Euros hasn’t captured the exiles yet?
If what they said was true they were more dangerous than Denholme and his Normals combined. It was ludicrous that those three could threaten her so easily.
She looked over at David, who was thinking his own thoughts. She tried to see whether he was shaken, but his posture and breathing were normal; if his heart rate was slightly elevated, it was from excitement, not inner turmoil. She still couldn’t understand why he had committed to help them; it was so far beyond his world, where did he begin justifying it?
“Aren’t you in the same boat as me?” she asked.
“I have a different goal, Helena. There’s no warrant for their arrest and they may help me in an ongoing investigation. As far as I’m concerned I have to help them.”
Seeing her watching, he asked her if she was okay.
“There is something wrong with them,” she ventured, as they came into a station. There were hundreds of people on the platform. It was rush hour and these, the richest and most powerful Normals, would be heading into the City to work. Murmurs of conversation floated through the crowded carriage, fragments about the explosion the previous night.
“For leaving when they were unhappy?” David was careful to leave his language neutral. It was bad enough for two Oligarchs to be travelling alone into the city at this time, without drawing added attention to the politicking of Euros. The seats next to them remained empty as no one dared touch them or take up room they might wish to use later in the journey. Helena was grateful at this point, but knew everyone who could was watching them, trying to hear what they were saying, without appearing to listen. The scent of interest and fear filled the carriage; invariably discussions of the bombing stopped almost as soon as passengers realised the two Oligarchs were aboard.
“They had no right,” said Helena. “Their contracts would have restricted such an action. How could they even have slipped away?”
“Oh,” said David flatly.
“You can’t just disregard the law whenever it suits you,” said Helena, slightly more loudly than she wanted to. David did not look at her, intent as he was on examining the floor, but she saw a thin smile pass his lips.
“Believe me; I know.”
“Then how can you take this course of action? Surely you of all people know that it’s not yours to reason why?” Helena kept her voice to a low whisper.
“We wrote the law,” said David quietly.
“Exactly, so how can you give it up so easily?”
“What I mean to say is that the law didn’t write us.” He looked uncomfortable.
“Don’t get metaphysical with me David, I know my philosophy. You don’t seem to see that what you’re doing is tantamount to subverting the very laws you are contracted to uphold. It might sound hysterical to point out the eventual outcome of undermining your own rules but difficult considerations always sound unreasonable.”
“You’re probably right Helena,” was all he said, wearily.
“You don’t get out of it that easily.”
“The laws we wrote,”
Helena interrupted, “The first generation wrote.”
He eyeballed her with an appraising gaze. “The laws were written to ensure that those with property had their rights protected. It was drafted to make sure that existing power structures were shielded from challenge. What if those who drafted the laws also made sure that as a result they couldn’t, by definition, do wrong.”
“Who are you to decide that?” asked Helena. “Even if true, you don’t get to decide when the law applies and when it doesn’t.”
“That way madness lies,” said David cheerfully.
“Last time I checked, you were a servant of the law, not its master.”
“If the law told you that your brother Michael was illegitimate, subhuman, because he has a different sexual orientation would you concede to the sanctions?”
“Don’t be absurd.” She paused. “Just how much do you know about me?”
“I rarely interview someone who’s had a murder on their doorstep without understanding their background.” She stared at him, angry at the intrusion, but he held her gaze without flinching. “That’s why none of my Normal officers would think of interviewing you.”
Eventually their conversation reached an end. Neither of them wanted to talk in public about the situation they found themselves in.
She could feel her AI fingering through her mind. How long do I have before I lose control? she asked it.
I am not going to destroy you, it replied.
All the papers I’ve read give accounts of people who believed that too. It’s part of my collapse, inevitable.
It’s not like that. For the time being your mind is stable.
Great.
It didn’t answer her sarcasm immediately. When it finally spoke, there was a tentativeness in its voice. This is the first time this has happened. I
am something new, something I still don’t understand. Two months ago I couldn’t have spoken like this.
Two months ago I was in control of my own mind.
I’m sorry, Helena. This wasn’t my choice any more than it wasn’t yours. I am not to blame. Do you think this is my fault?
She sighed. It doesn’t matter does it?
THEY RETURNED to David’s flat with a sense of trepidation. Disposing of a body was not the easiest of tasks, and despite David’s assurances that he knew no one would miss their attacker, he was evidently uncomfortable with what had to be done.
He said, only half-jokingly, “I’ll have to turn myself in after we’re finished.”
Reluctantly they approached the body they’d left sprawled like a dishevelled sleeper on his couch, only to stand there for a moment wondering what had happened while they’d been hiding. The body was gone. So was all the blood.
In fact, there was no trace that it had ever been there at all.
They went over the apartment looking for signs of entry, activity and for a body that no longer was. The only thing David noticed was the lack of dirt and a slight fragrance, which Helena informed him was detergent.
“Oh, that’s what it smells like,” was all he said, wrinkling his nose. “Slightly worse than the factory.”
With no sign of anyone waiting for them, watching or coming back for them, Helena excused herself as quickly as she could. It was eight in the morning and she had to get home, eat something, then get into the centre of the City for nine.
Jane would be frantic. Helena half expected to find her friend stood outside her door banging to be let in.
News boards were full of the previous night’s explosion. The snippets of commentary she caught were focusing on the possibility that it wasn’t an accident. She ran headlines in her augmented reality, but they provided little insight into the events. David had told her more about the bombing than all the newscasts combined.
Her personalised advertising was suggesting shrapnel proof jackets, flash resistant glasses and, perversely, a flame grilled steak restaurant near her office.
The media seemed remarkably slow to focus on the concept of Normals bombing the Families. Helena, who had heard more than enough from David, was inclined to see this reluctance as wise. There was no point in highlighting the premeditated nature of the event or any sense in giving the insurgents room to speak.
Helena pondered how she was going to face Jane. Just as she’d decided on totally ignoring their conversation from the previous night, she turned into her corridor to find Jane waiting for her outside the flat.
“Oh My God,” was all Jane said when she saw Helena walking towards her.
It was the first time Helena had bothered to think of her appearance since leaving the cinema the night before. Looking down she understood the extra interest they had sparked on the crowded train. She had blood spatter lightly covering her chest, not enough to suggest the fight she’d had just hours earlier, but enough to draw attention. Her sleeve was also slightly dirtied, something no normal self-respecting member of society would have stood for. The speed of the events, combined with the revulsion she felt at their course of action, had absorbed her attention completely.
Seeing Jane’s absurd fright, and the state she was in, brought Helena back to her senses. She set about cleaning herself up as she unlocked her front door.
Her AI reported back that the stains on her clothes had dyed the material and they would need washing. It is inefficient to ask your nanomachines to clean the cloth.
“Hi Jane.”
“Hi,” said Jane, answering rather automatically, unable to take her eyes of Helena’s splattered shirt.
Helena pushed past her into the apartment. She smelled the place, luxuriating in its cleanliness. The fragrance of the sea on a spring morning floated through the rooms as the building worked to keep itself clean for her. In that moment, she was more grateful to be living where she was than she’d thought possible.
Just because she could, Helena switched the perfume coming through the air conditioning to that of a woodland glade, with bluebells and honeysuckle touching the room with gentle fingers.
Jane followed her in and said nothing. Helena went to her room to change into something clean and fresh. Delighting in the feel of clean linen against her skin, Helena paced back into the living room and greeted Jane warmly, happy with the world once again in spite of her feelings towards the woman stood before her.
“You didn’t need to run last night Helena,” said Jane reproachfully.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied.
Jane rolled her eyes. “Darling, I’m not an idiot. We both know why you ran away.” She clacked her fingernails together. “Well, as you can see, I’m still here. I’m your friend.”
“So you are,” said Helena absently. “Drink?” Jane seemed at a loss. “I’ll take that as a no then,” said Helena.
“Don’t freeze me out,” said Jane. “I know someone was killed here last night, I know you didn’t want to face it. But you could have stayed at mine; you could have waited for me. I was worried sick that something had happened to you.”
Helena dished out some food; a couple of slices of bread. She spread something random on them from the cupboard, pretending not to take any notice of what Jane was saying or the way she was saying it. Jane’s body language was agitated: a conflicting set of postures, trying to display a calm concern while her folded arms and wide eyes gave away her need for answers.
Helena suspected that the woman in front of her really wanted to wring her neck.
“Helena, they could have come back, they could have followed you. Did you ever think of that?”
“My dear,” said Helena. “What on earth do you know about that then?”
Jane said nothing. “That’s what I thought.”
“You’re not as good at this as you think,” said Helena. “Your scent was still here when I got home. So the question really is: why should I have trusted you when you’d already been through my flat? And just how did you manage to avoid the murder outside, because there sure as hell wasn’t enough time for the murderer and you to come here separately.”
Helena picked up the bread, took a mouthful; she wished she’d taken more notice of what she was spreading on it and grimaced as the flavour of beef stock filled her mouth. She carefully put her breakfast back onto the work surface and came round to stand in front of Jane.
“I don’t know about you, but if we don’t go now we’ll be late for work.”
“No problem,” said Jane. “Alexander knows about the murder, I told him you weren’t feeling too well after discovering the body on your doorstep. He was happy to give us the day off.”
Helena ground her teeth in frustration.
“Jane, I know you’re working for a different part of Euros, I know you’ve been promised a leg up in return. Why don’t you simply come clean with me?”
Jane’s gaze remained solid, but something in her expression softened.
“Fine. If that’s the way you want it,” she said harshly. “Yes, I am contracted by someone else.” She held Helena’s gaze without wavering. Defiant.
“Your family is worried Helena, they think that your trip to Africa fried your mind. I promised I’d watch out for you.” She paused. “Your Uncle cares a lot for you, you should be grateful anyone gives a shit. My family would have let me sink.” She looked away.
Helena bit her lip, it was the first time she’d ever heard Jane swear and all her signals spoke of sincerity. She really believed she was helping Helena out.
Bugger.
“Why didn’t you tell me then?” asked Helena.
“Why didn’t I tell you? Look at you, you’re furious with me, with them. They’re only trying to help. Your Cousin, Adam, said you’d react like this if I told you.”
Damned by my own reputation, thought Helena.
“How long?” asked Helena, her anger draining away.
&nbs
p; “They contacted me two days after I’d met you. I’m not their stooge Hels. I agreed to do it because I liked you.”
Helena still didn’t trust her, but she could no longer find any reason to be angry with Jane. She was just one more set of eyes she had to worry about. At least if she was looking out for Helena’s wellbeing it meant the betrayal was a small one.
Unlike some, she thought at her AI.
She chose her course, it retorted angrily. I am not your enemy.
“It’s not good enough to tell me this and expect everything to be OK, Jane. I don’t know where to begin. Sure, you’re not to blame for what someone else asked you to do, but fucking hell.”
“Would you rather I’d not have your back?” asked Jane. She frowned, “So where were you last night?”
“If you promise not to report it to my sodding cousin, I’ll tell you on the way to work,” said Helena.
“There will be no reports to your sodding cousin, promise.” Jane smiled, hoping Helena would laugh with her.
Helena smiled wanly. “OK.” Jane didn’t need to know the whole truth, but there was plenty she was happy to share. David was attractive, centred and actually quite charming in an odd kind of way.
Chapter 13
Holographic screens hovered around the open plan office. The mainstream media did not discuss whether the blast was premeditated although footage of the explosion was looped continuously. The lack of mainstream interest didn’t stop everyone talking about it.
Helena endured comment after comment about what became known as ‘The Blast’ without getting involved herself. No one had to mention the location, the time or the explosion itself; by the end of the day it was enough to accept it was the only subject worth discussing.
Nor was list of suspects released by investigators.
“Makes you wonder who they think is actually responsible.” said Elizabeth, their pattern spotter. She was a sharp cynical woman at the best of times but no one disagreed with her.
There was a press conference from parliament where the President of Europe’s defence force announced they would investigate the causes and determine what had gone wrong but there was no mention of it being a bomb. Nor was there a communication channel for those who might have information about the blast. The powers concerned wanted everyone to forget about it as quickly and quietly as possible.
A Family War: The Oligarchy - Book 1 Page 29