by Teri Terry
Nico opens the front door, pushes me out into the night. I trip on the step, sprawl onto the muddy ground in the cold rain.
Run.
I glance back; he stands there. Watching and waiting.
It’s what he wants me to do. He wants me to run, doesn’t he? So he can shoot me in the back.
I stand up. Face him down, like Florence did at All Souls.
He shrugs, raises his gun.
‘Goodbye, Rain. It’s been fun.’
And I stand there, stare back at him. He’s waiting for me to cry, to plead. I won’t do it.
It’s a funny thing. Earlier I thought I was ready to die, but I’m not. Despite everything, I want to stay, to breathe this air, to feel even if all there is to feel is pain. I’m fighting tears that threaten, fear that trembles through my body as he slowly points his gun straight at my heart. He smiles, and then—
BANG!
And I flinch, anticipating impact, pain, being pushed to the ground, but instead am full of confusion.
Nico has fallen? It is Nico clutching at his chest, red red red spreading. Nico dying.
Footsteps approach.
It’s Coulson? Gun in hand, looking at Nico at his feet. But Coulson is a Lorder; Nico is with the Lorders now. Isn’t he? Other Lorders run in behind him.
‘I’m not dead,’ I say.
‘Correct,’ Coulson says. He opens the door, looks back. ‘Come on,’ he says. Dazed, I step around Nico’s now still body, walk back in the house behind Coulson.
Astrid’s eyes go round with shock. Her Lorders aren’t looking happy either, not that it is easy to tell with Lorders. But Coulson is a Lorder. Aren’t they on the same side?
Coulson gestures at the other Lorders in the room. ‘Get out,’ he says. They look at Astrid. Indecision plays on her face.
More Lorders step in behind us.
‘Do as he says,’ Astrid says, and they are ushered out.
Coulson checks the room, holds an arm out the door. A gesture.
In walk two people I was never more surprised to see: Dr Lysander? And with her is Prime Minister Gregory.
Dr Lysander rushes to the injured. Checks Ben, Aiden and Mac. Skye. And Tori, too: but this time Dr Lysander shakes her head. She closes Tori’s eyes. Tori…dead? Another shock that I can’t take in, can’t believe. ‘Paramedics are needed for the others,’ Dr Lysander says. ‘And a vet.’ Gregory nods, and a Lorder speaks into his collar. They’re not going to be killed, but helped?
‘So glad you came along, Prime Minister; lovely to see you as always,’ Astrid says to Gregory. ‘But things were well under control.’
Gregory raises an eyebrow. ‘Really? What, exactly, is it that is under control? What operation were you conducting here without my knowledge? Did you know anything about it?’ he says to Coulson.
‘Not a thing through any official channels. Luckily, my unofficial sources are rather good.’
‘Well. If my head of security knows nothing officially, and I know nothing, how should I take this?’
Astrid is pale. ‘I learned of this plot to discredit the glorious Central Coalition with lies. They were attempting to hijack our television transmission and broadcast it across the country tonight. I’ve been protecting you, on a need-to-know basis.’
So Lorders use that phrase, too.
Gregory shrugs. ‘I may not need to know, but if Coulson doesn’t know, how can that decision be made?’
She starts to speak again, but he holds up a hand. ‘Be silent. I’m reserving judgement until I learn more. I’ve decided that I need to know.’ His voice is icy, and Astrid is growing paler, but as much as I enjoy her discomfort, what has this got to do with us? They’re all Lorders.
‘You see, dear Astrid, I learned a few things I think I did need to know. Dr Lysander here – she was a friend of my daughter’s, did you know that? – came to me with some very interesting information. She was very persistent about getting in to see me, and when she told me about one of your special projects, I could see why. Slating is a legally sanctioned criminal punishment to be applied only according to due process of law, as you well know. Not to orphans under the age of legal responsibility.
‘And then we unearthed some information about your unofficial training camps. This is two of them?’ He gestures at Ben, and Tori’s body. ‘Selected for special abilities, subjected to experimental procedures. Trained and twisted.’ He shakes his head.
‘All within my ambit as JCO,’ Astrid says.
‘I doubt even you believe that. And then we’ve been piecing some more things together. And worked out some of what you’ve done to my daughter. And granddaughter.’
Gregory turns. Why is he looking at me? He’s blond of course, though grey-streaked now, but up close I see something I haven’t noticed before when I’ve seen him on TV or in photos: his eyes. Green eyes. The same shade as mine. Everyone is looking at me.
His granddaughter? Me? No. It couldn’t be.
Could it?
A siren approaches; paramedics enter. At Dr Lysander’s direction they take Skye and Ben away, and Tori’s body. Aiden’s arm is broken, but he refuses to leave. They strap his arm to his chest, check Mac’s injuries, then leave.
‘This is ridiculous,’ Astrid says. ‘They are traitors and should be dealt with as such.’
‘That may be. I’m still deciding. For now, I want to watch this transmission you stopped.’
‘It’s in my camera,’ I say. I point to it on the floor, where it fell when I tackled Astrid.
Coulson takes it, checks it and hands it to Gregory. My grandfather?!
‘Are we ready now? Shall we?’ He projects it on the wall.
We all watch it silently; this time, I don’t look away. I stare at Florence’s eyes just before she dies, standing there, facing them down. Did she feel like I did with Nico at that moment?
All are silent when it ends. Gregory finally turns to Astrid.
‘Astrid Connor, your actions have been unacceptable. Further investigations are necessary.’ He gestures at Coulson. ‘Take her away, and then leave us.’
After they’re gone, the door shut behind them, Gregory turns to me. ‘Can you record on this thing?’ he says, holding out the camera in his hand.
‘Yes.’
He hands it over. ‘Get ready.’
I set it to record, hold up the camera. Hands surprisingly steady.
He begins.
‘This is Merton Gregory, your Prime Minister, head of the Central Coalition Government. I’ve learned some news that has disturbed me greatly.
‘Many of you may know that in the riots over thirty years ago, one of the students who was sentenced to execution was my daughter, Samantha Gregory. At the time I was deputy to then Prime Minister Armstrong; he offered to intervene and pardon her. I didn’t allow him to save her, convinced the only way forward from the grip violent chaos had on our country was to apply the law in all cases. This is something I regretted my entire life, and is part of the reason why I always protected the rule of law at all costs when I became Prime Minister myself: if I didn’t, her loss was meaningless. And I have been wilfully blind at times in ways I now regret.
‘I have recently learned that my daughter was not executed, but this was not an act of leniency or kindness. There are more details I have yet to unearth as to where she was taken, or if she even still lives. But I have discovered I have a granddaughter I knew nothing of, a girl whose only crime has been being related to me, the punishment given for this beyond anything the rule of law could condone.
‘You’re about to watch some very difficult scenes. I’m sorry, but you need to know.
‘In light of what you are about to see, I feel I have no choice but to resign as Prime Minister. The government will be dissolved and an electi
on called. Change is long overdue. The Lorders served their purpose at the time; their time is over.
‘All right, that’ll do. I’m done,’ he says.
I hit stop record, lower the camera. My eyes find Aiden’s. Is this really happening?
Gregory turns to Mac and Aiden. ‘Now: can you get this out tonight before I change my mind? And we better use your hijacked system. I’m not sure this would get past the Lorder censors, even with my direct order. They might have me committed.’
That evening Mac does quick checks and repairs the damage to his transmission equipment that Astrid’s Lorders inflicted when arresting him and Aiden.
Dr Lysander draws me aside, bandages the cut on my cheek.
‘Tell me: how did you find out who I am?’
‘Deduction, and guesswork.’ She sighs. ‘Really, I’m embarrassed it took me so long.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Deduction: I was thinking about everything that has been done and manipulated in your life; the classified DNA set in the system so none could trace it, set by Astrid as it turns out. Who you really were had to be an important part of the puzzle. And guesswork: how I always thought I knew you.’
‘You said I reminded you of a friend, one who died.’
‘Not just a friend.’ She pulls on a chain around her neck, and out of her clothes comes a gold locket. She opens it. ‘Inside here? A lock of hair. From a girl I loved years ago, who was meant to have been executed in the riots. Gregory’s daughter, Samantha. When you cut your leg after your recent visit, on impulse I swabbed the blood you left behind for DNA. Later, feeling foolish for doing so, I compared DNA between that and this lock of hair. However she survived, Sam is your mother.’
‘And you went to Gregory and told him about me?’
‘Just so.’
‘Where is my mother? Is she still alive?’
‘I hope so. Gregory is working on that.’
‘But how did he link us to Astrid?’
‘Thanks to you. Telling me that the orphanage you visited was in Cumbria. It didn’t take Gregory long to link first the orphanage, then his daughter’s disappearance, to Astrid. She must have seen this opportunity with Sam: the ultimate way to discredit Gregory. He was the obvious next Prime Minister after Armstrong; Astrid wasn’t in position to take power yet when she arranged Armstrong’s assassination. She was a long-range planner.’
‘I don’t understand. What use was Sam to Astrid?’
‘She probably thought at the time that she’d use Sam when she was ready, to make it look as if Gregory broke the law to save his daughter. Then later on, when you appeared, she came up with an even better plan: having Gregory’s own granddaughter make a sham of Slating, and assassinate both Gregory and Armstrong’s daughter at the same time. How far back she was putting this in place we do not know; it must have been at least since you were ten, when she arranged through Nico for the AGT to take you.’
‘If her plans had worked that day, Lorders wouldn’t know who might turn – which Slateds were safe or dangerous.’
‘Astrid’s views are notoriously hardline. She prefers the death penalty to Slating. A clean sweep of existing Slateds wouldn’t have troubled her, and she would have been the obvious next Prime Minister if Gregory had been killed. But you thwarted her plans.’
‘Because I ran back to save you. I wasn’t there, next to Gregory and the others, when they meant to set off the bomb hidden on my Levo.’
‘Yes. And since then I’ve learned more from Gregory. That by then Coulson was suspicious of you, who you were: he’d noticed irregularities in your records. When the bomb went off at your house he took the opportunity to fake your death, to stop any possible AGT interference while he looked into it.’
‘But how did you find us here today?’
‘Gregory has been having Astrid watched. When she came south in force, we knew something big was up. We closed in.’
‘Just in time.’
Dr Lysander smiles. ‘Yes. Thankfully, just in time.’
I turn it all over in my mind, but keep coming back to two things. I was just a baby when I was taken from a mother I never heard about until today. Where is she? Is she even alive? And then there is Ben.
‘What is going to happen to Ben?’
‘I don’t know. He has committed crimes, though under coercion perhaps.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘He’s been taken to hospital for assessment and observation.’
‘When can I see him?’
‘I’m not sure that is wise. For either of you.’
Mac has added Gregory’s new introduction to Need to Know. It is 9 pm, three hours later than planned, when it hits every television, viewing and vid screen in this country and others. Can so much really have happened in such a short time?
I stand, awkward and uncertain, next to Aiden while it runs; the pain from his arm is showing on his face, but his eyes are gleaming. ‘We did it, Kyla. We really did it.’ He smiles, but his eyes slide from me to Gregory and back again.
When it is over, Gregory glances at Aiden and Mac. ‘Leave us alone for a moment,’ he says, in a voice used to being obeyed.
But things have changed. They look to me.
‘It’s fine. Go,’ I say, staring at Gregory while they leave. My grandfather; a stranger. Someone I used to hate with every beat of my heart for what he stood for, yet someone who unexpectedly saved my life. Saved us all.
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Do I pass inspection?’
I shrug. ‘I don’t know. There is good and bad.’
‘And you’re not sure which is the greater.’
‘Exactly. Are you really resigning?’
‘Isn’t that what I said? Yet you seem sceptical.’ He looks pleased.
I shrug. ‘Maybe this is just a way to get out of blame. Defeat Astrid, blame things on her, rebrand the party and start over again.’
‘Politics loves a scapegoat.’ He shrugs. ‘That’d probably work. You’ve got a suspicious mind. Maybe you got that from me.’
‘And?’
‘No. I’m done. The country can start over again without me. I’m not proud of things that have been done in my government’s name. I’m not proud of things I’ve done myself. I can’t change the past, but I will do what I can now to ease the political changes. But what I really wanted to say to you is this: I’m sorry.’
‘What for, specifically? Even if you leave Astrid out of things, it wasn’t her who had me Slated, beaten, and threatened. It wasn’t her who made kids disappear from my school for no reason. The list is long enough without her, but if you add her in and it gets a whole lot worse, who was in charge of her?’
He flinches. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t expect a hugs-and-flowers big family reunion. I don’t expect you to forgive and forget. But there is one thing I will do for you. For both of us.’
‘What is that?’ What can he possibly offer to do for me, now, that will mean anything?
‘I have a promise to make you. I’ll find my daughter, your mother. One way or the other, I’ll find her.’
He reaches out, grips my hand, and I don’t pull away. So many times I’ve thought, this is me, I know it all. And then there is another revelation. But Sam really is my mother – DNA doesn’t lie. Dr Lysander doesn’t, either. I fight the tears that threaten. Not here, not now.
‘Where is she?’
‘I’ll find her.’
When I get back to Mac’s house, Aiden waits out front. Alone.
‘Shouldn’t you be on your way to a hospital to get that arm seen to properly?’
‘Probably. I had to see you first.’ He reaches his good hand to my cheek, and I lean against him, into his warmth. So glad he is still alive, that we both are. And suddenly too full of everything that has
happened to want to be anywhere else.
Aiden tightens his good arm around me, and murmurs into my hair. ‘I heard what you said before to Dr Lysander.’
‘About what?’
‘About Ben. About asking to see him.’
I pull away. ‘I have to.’
‘After everything he has done?’
‘It’s not him. They’ve made him like that. You don’t understand.’
‘Then make me.’
‘He’s fighting what they’ve done to him.’
‘How do you know?’
‘He saved my life tonight: kicked a knife out of Tori’s hand.’
‘Then I’ll thank him for that. But does one good deed wipe out all the others?’
I stare back at Aiden, and I can’t answer. Does Gregory’s one good deed wipe out all his others? But it’s not the same thing. He had his free will; Ben didn’t.
‘Kyla, there is one more thing. The other day, when I said I loved you. I said how can you love somebody when you don’t know all of them? And you said, then how could someone who was Slated ever love or be loved.’
‘And?’
‘I do know all of you. And I don’t mean every memory you’ve lost: I know who you are, inside. Despite everything, how you could never deliberately hurt anybody. How brave you are, how fiercely loyal, and all the little insecurities, fears and stubborness as well, and I love all of you. Can you say the same about Ben?’
‘Yes,’ I say, but doubt gnaws inside, and Aiden knows it. ‘I don’t have any choice. I can’t abandon him; he hasn’t got anybody else. Not after everything we were to each other.’
His hand touches my shoulder.
‘Everything you were to each other. That is past tense. Let me know when you’re ready for the present, or maybe even the future.’
CHAPTER FORTY TWO
* * *
Everything happens very quickly after the broadcast.
Prime Minister Gregory makes his resignation official, as promised. Amid public outcry and international pressure, Parliament is dissolved, and elections called. And it is almost like Aiden always said it would be: once everyone really knew what went on, they said, no, no more. And the Lorders were no more.