Trinity

by Patrick Morgan

  Evelyn Tudor herded her staff out of her office, skilfully dispatching them on innocuous errands to give her visitors some privacy. JT told the story, feeling it to be far-fetched even to himself, but Ira backed him up when needed. When they had finished, Evelyn picked up the phone to O’Brien and requested a meeting in person. O’Brien had been reluctant at first, but relented and, to everyone’s surprise, suggested the Vault under Ayon Research as a safe meeting place. In fact this made perfect sense, since he still had access and the building was a natural enough place for JT to visit. It also guaranteed privacy: now both IDCs had been removed, the place was effectively deserted.

  And there they stood, O’Brien looking at the photograph Connor had provided and whistling in amazement.

  ‘Do you have any idea how hard we’ve tried to learn what you’ve just told me?’ he asked. JT and Ira both shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. ‘And you guys just walk in there. I must say I’m impressed.’ He pushed his spectacles up and looked at each of them in turn.

  ‘There was a scream, and that blade had blood on it. There was no doubt,’ said Ira, with total assurance.

  ‘I’m not doubting you,’ said O’Brien, eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘Everything you’ve told me confirms what we’ve suspected for cycles.’

  ‘What does it mean?’ asked JT.

  It was now Evelyn Tudor’s turn to look uncomfortable. O’Brien regarded JT seriously. ‘I don’t know exactly, but I’ve got a reasonable idea. I think it’s about subsidies.’

  ‘Subsidies?’ asked JT incredulously. He looked at Ira and saw a strange look of understanding in the man’s chiselled features.

  ‘Subsidies,’ repeated O’Brien firmly. ‘The Council has been funding mining companies, processing firms and others to employ people from the slums. It’s a way of making them look like they’re solving the problem of mass poverty without actually doing anything they might be accountable for. No overt help, but they can claim they are trying to improve the situation.’

  ‘But why keep those people penned in?’

  ‘My guess is that the mine has run its course. You said the drill-rig operator thought they hadn’t extracted ore for cycles?’

  ‘That’s what she said. She also said the geologists disputed it.’

  ‘They would do,’ said O’Brien, knowingly. ‘To keep the subsidies flowing the mine would have to be viable. What we think is happening, and not just in Mal-Kas, is that some mines have run dry, but it’s more lucrative for the operator to keep them running on a skeleton crew. Fake the output to make them appear… viable.’

  ‘And subjugate the workers on whose backs the subsidies are provided,’ interrupted Ira.

  ‘Exactly.’ O’Brien looked at him with appreciation.

  JT ran a finger across his lower lip in thought. ‘In real terms wouldn’t someone, the Council or whoever, know that there is no output?’

  ‘That’s the bit we don’t fully understand,’ O’Brien agreed. ‘The companies are getting help from somewhere to cover that up. We think it runs high up in government but we don’t know how far it goes. Not yet anyway.’

  O’Brien was cut short as the Cannula lift ascended, apparently called from above. He looked at it with narrowed eyes, the photograph in his hand momentarily forgotten. They waited, concern building that they were about to be discovered. The lift descended, and came to a smooth, painfully slow halt before the doors slid open with a hiss.

  Together they watched the dishevelled form of Tyler Olson step out. He was followed a moment later by an equally shabby-looking Megan Devin.

  ‘What on earth happened to you two?’ asked O’Brien, startled.

  Olson was about to speak but Megan got in before him. ‘It’s Myra Cena. The person on the inside, the person that got HEX out is Myra Cena.’

  O’Brien frowned, not knowing what to make of this unexpected assertion, let alone their appearance. There was a momentary stand-off as he looked to Olson. The agent’s face looked doubtful, but he didn’t object. Finally, O’Brien unclipped a radio from his belt and keyed the mic.

  ‘Find Myra Cena and bring her down to the Vault, please,’ he said. There was an acknowledgement, followed by something else the others didn’t catch. He keyed the mic again and said, ‘Okay then. Be aware she may panic and run. Tell Councillor Kane she’s to escort Cena down here herself if at all possible. You stay with them, but keep your distance and be ready if she does run.’

  The radio crackled again then fell silent. ‘You have some explaining to do, Miss Devin,’ he said, attention momentarily averted as he clipped the radio back onto his belt. When he looked up again he saw Olson staring past him in astonishment.

  He turned to see Ira returning the stare with obvious recognition, but also a little sheepishness.

  JT had also picked up on this exchange and looked as puzzled as O’Brien. ‘Ira, what’s going on?’

  ‘Ira?’ asked Olson, apparently confused.

  ‘Hello Tyler,’ said Ira, with a faint trace of apology in his voice. ‘That’s the name I’ve been going by lately.’

  ‘I thought you died a decade ago,’ said Olson in wonder. His eyes suddenly glistened and he took a step forward, as if not quite believing what he saw.

  JT became aware of a sudden dawning of recognition in Evelyn Tudor, who stood beside him. O’Brien, for once, looked totally confused.

  ‘This man’s name isn’t Ira,’ said Olson slowly. He looked straight at O’Brien. ‘His name is Jason Karalydes.’

  Evelyn Tudor took a step back, appraising Ira as if for the first time. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. Ira returned the look but in confusion rather than recognition.

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are?’ he said.

  Evelyn regained her composure and looked at the floor with a wry, almost girlish grin. ‘Well no, you wouldn’t recognise me, and that can only be for the good. I was Tyler’s boss during the time you were helping us. We really didn’t think you made it out of that warehouse alive. I’m very glad that you did.’

  ‘It wasn’t easy,’ said Ira. ‘I was in pretty bad shape, they damn near cut my arm off. The only way out was through a sewer. I got blood poisoning, thought I was done for.’

  ‘But you got out,’ said Evelyn with clear relief.

  ‘Not right away. You might say I was rescued down there.’

  Megan, standing apart from the group and forgotten by all, spoke up. ‘By the Hadje.’

  Ira narrowed his eyes as the rest turned to regard her. ‘Yes, by the Hadje. How on earth do you know about them?’

  ‘We’ve seen them, seen their home.’ She looked to O’Brien. ‘That’s where the tunnel led, to a place called the Siphon. Below that there’s a huge water storage tank. People live down there.’

  O’Brien frowned, as if this was a very unlikely tale, but Olson quickly moved to assure him. ‘She’s telling the truth, that’s where we’ve been the last two shifts. There’s a mini-civilisation living down there.’

  O’Brien ruckled his nose in disapproval.

  ‘It’s not how you might imagine it,’ said Ira in response. He favoured Megan with a momentary glance. ‘It’s very beautiful. They’re good people.’

  Megan nodded vigorously but didn’t get the chance to elaborate. Unnoticed by anyone, the Cannula had made a second trip and now settled back down into the Vault. The door slid open and out stepped Katherine Kane, followed by a mystified-looking Myra Cena.

  *

  Katherine, who had been working flat out to come up with a strategy for removing ROOT from GVX, had resented the interruption. Now, seeing the assembled group, at least three of whom she didn’t recognise, she wondered what could possibly be so important as to warrant her compliance with CID at such a critical moment. Nearest to her stood the uncharacteristically dirty figure of Megan, who ignored her to look daggers at Myra. Olson wore a curious look of what could have been relief. He made his way towards her but, to her surprise, kept going to stand in front of t
he elevator doors. Katherine was startled, and a little confused, but composed herself before addressing Vincent O’Brien.

  ‘Mr O’Brien, what can I help you with?’

  ‘Mr Olson, could you or Miss Devin explain please?’ said O’Brien.

  ‘She’s the one on the inside,’ said Megan impetuously, while engaging Myra with a hard stare. Myra looked bewildered but said nothing.

  ‘The Hadje, they told us Myra had been down there. Down to the Deep Wells, Buni Sound they called it. She’s been back and forth through the 7075 tunnel, she knows who took HEX.’

  Katherine looked at Megan as if she’d gone mad. Olson gave a small and slightly embarrassed smile and took to examining his feet. O’Brien was studying Megan intensely, as were the others.

  Myra looked around, trying to make sense of what was happening. ‘I have literally no idea what you just said. Buni what? The Ha… who?’ Her confusion turned to disbelief as she studied the look on Megan’s face. ‘You think I helped steal HEX? You’re mad. I’m in the CCTV the whole time.’

  ‘Someone must have told the, the…’ Megan stuttered, trying to find the right word, ‘the thieves.’ It didn’t do the perpetrators justice, but it was as close as she was going to get. ‘You told them the coast was clear. They must have known.’

  Myra shook her head. Her look had turned from confusion to amused sympathy. ‘No, I wasn’t involved at all. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I had no idea that tunnel was there until you came down here two shifts ago. I’m sorry but you’re wrong.’

  There was a moment’s silence before Tyler Olson spoke in a quiet, measured tone. ‘Megan, did you ever find out who last looked at the tunnel schematics in the Central Library?’

  Megan turned her ire onto him then seemed to relax a little. ‘No, I didn’t ever follow it up.’

  ‘I think you should do that now,’ suggested Olson firmly.

  Megan was clearly unhappy with being dismissed and walked gracelessly to the security room. The guard, seeing her approach, opened the door. When it closed again, Olson returned his attention to the group and began his explanation.

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Cena. The tunnel we found, we followed it and found a group living underground. They call themselves the Hadje. I’d heard of them before but not met them myself. Their figurehead, if you could call him that, told us that a woman called Myra had recently been through the 7075 tunnel and had spent some time with them. I’m afraid Miss Devin is trying to hammer a square peg into a round hole and has concluded you are the Myra in question.’

  ‘But you disagree?’ asked O’Brien.

  ‘I do,’ said Olson with quiet confidence. ‘For one thing, as Miss Cena pointed out, she is in the CCTV footage. She could have communicated with others outside the Vault, but if I’m correct you’ve found no evidence of that.’

  ‘That’s correct,’ O’Brien confirmed.

  ‘In my view, her reaction at the time she discovered HEX’s disappearance looked genuine and panicked. She didn’t delay raising the alarm and she’s not behaved in an obstructive way as far as I’m aware.’

  ‘Well that’s how she might behave if she were guilty. What else?’

  ‘The scar on her cheek,’ said Olson, pointing to it.

  Myra fingered it unconsciously. ‘I was born with it,’ she said absently. ‘My mother had to have the operation, she couldn’t give birth naturally and the surgeon nicked me.’

  ‘The Shaman, the figurehead, he said he didn’t remember a scar. I think we’re looking for another Myra.’

  There was a silence as everyone took this on-board. Katherine looked over into the security station to see Megan talking on the phone, presumably to the Central Library. Katherine thought she looked a little ashamed of herself. O’Brien, more as a distraction than anything else, raised the photograph he still held and peered at it.

  ‘Could be one of these people,’ he said thoughtfully to no one in particular then gestured towards JT and Ira. ‘These two gentlemen retrieved this photograph of a Unit that was stolen from Hellinar Research a few shifts ago. There are five people standing in front of it. It’s possible this is how your Intercessor got out of the city.’

  He handed Katherine the photograph. ‘Shame their faces are all covered up.’

  ‘The vehicle’s set up for Ayon, that’s for sure,’ she said. ‘Just like ROOT thought.’

  She sighed and studied the photograph more closely, looking at the faces wrapped in patterned cloth. You couldn’t see any more than their eyes. She looked at the vehicle again, not really knowing what she was looking for. Then she saw something that tugged at the edge of her consciousness.

  ‘There’s another person in this photograph,’ she said. ‘In the cab, look. It’s faint but there is definitely someone sitting up there.’

  ‘Let me see,’ said O’Brien. JT and Ira closed in to see the faint profile of an almost ghostly face.

  ‘Connor, the man who took this, said he took it as insurance. For some reason they wanted photographs,’ said JT.

  ‘I can’t make out the face,’ said O’Brien. ‘There should still be a field kit in security, can you get it for me?’

  Olson moved to the door. As it opened they heard Megan’s voice in deep discussion. A moment later Olson returned with a black case, which he set down and opened. He retrieved a large magnifying glass and handed it to O’Brien.

  ‘I’m amazed you still use those,’ said Evelyn Tudor. She sounded a little sarcastic.

  ‘No batteries to go flat,’ said O’Brien evenly. He squinted into the glass and gave a short, sharp snort that suggested something of interest. He handed the photograph and the glass to Katherine, who peered at it. She took a double take before her eyes went wide.

  ‘What is it?’ asked O’Brien urgently.

  Katherine didn’t hear him. Her ears rang and she felt suddenly faint. She turned to look at Megan, who was staring back at her through the glass with an identical look of total shock. The phone slipped from her hand, the thud as it hit the desk just audible. She shook her head very slowly, tears forming in her eyes. She mouthed a single word that Katherine simultaneously voiced out loud.

  ‘Kyra.’

  030: The Last Rain

  Research and Development Facility, Eastern District, Skala City

  Given the gravity of the situation, the events that followed Katherine and Megan’s concurrent revelations in the Vault were uncomfortably brief. The two sisters shared a momentary and rare emotional embrace before Vincent O’Brien, who had been wise enough to wait, demanded an explanation. There was little to explain. Kyra was pictured sitting in the cockpit of Unit Hydra and, according to Megan, had most recently accessed the Central Library’s plans of underground Skala in the area of the Vault. It seemed conclusive, and somehow monstrously simple at the same time.

  For a brief, foolish moment, Katherine found herself thinking that at least Kyra was away and safe, before admonishing herself. Of course she wasn’t safe. If the Hellinar quartermaster and ROOT were right, she was heading deep into the danger of the icy wastelands of Ayon, the most demanding terrain encountered by civilisation. She was also suddenly elevated to enemy number one by most of her own people.

  O’Brien, to his credit, took no further convincing and immediately called off what had become a city-wide search for the presumed abductee, Kyra Devin. Tyler Olson fell in by O’Brien’s side, the two men working in unison. Not forgetting Megan, with whom he had shared two terrifying shifts, he asked Evelyn Tudor to take her home. JT Gilbert and Ira, or Jason as Olson referred to him, had been thanked and temporarily dismissed with the proviso they made themselves available for further questioning when needed.

  Which left Katherine. Unsure what to do next, she had followed O’Brien and Olson out of the Vault and found herself, without quite knowing how she had got there, back at SVA. She found John Orchard hovering around the internal bulkhead into which ROOT was still locked. Trying to formulate a salvage scheme that was both saf
e for ROOT and did as little damage as possible to the integrity of GVX’s chassis was proving extremely challenging.

  Orchard had the lights turned down inside GVX’s expanded galley, one of those eccentric things he did to help him think. For the same reason, he had also removed his shoes and paced up and down in black cotton socks, occasionally pausing to look out of one of the trellis-braced windows into the bright expanse of the hangar outside. Distracted herself, Katherine dithered. She made the occasional observation, but his lack of response made her uncomfortably aware she was contributing next to nothing. Too late, Katherine saw him looking past her in the direction of the outer door. She heard him say, ‘We’ve got visitors.’

  From the entrance stepped two women, the last people Katherine expected to see together. Joss Ratha, ever immaculate in her customary full-length ashen robe, moved to stand in the centre of the galley at a respectful distance, while Nara Falla leaned against a vertical rib between the expanded compartments. Dressed for the field as always, her white hair was plaited and hooked forward over one shoulder. She wore a look of concern that contrasted with Ratha’s apparent indifference as she made a condescendingly random inspection of GVX’s interior. Orchard, who shared a frosty but professional relationship with Ratha, stood his ground for as long as dignity required, then made his way past the frowning Councillor and out into the hangar.

  ‘So it’s Kyra,’ said Ratha, her cadence suggesting intrigue more than disapproval.

  ‘It seems so, yes,’ Katherine replied weakly from her position next to ROOT. She felt cornered.

  ‘She was always impetuous, that one. Although what she thinks she’s doing this time I can’t pretend to understand.’