Trinity

by Patrick Morgan

  When Katherine didn’t reply, Ratha spoke again, her voice harsh and annoyed. ‘Come on, woman, she’s your sister. No insight? No hypothesis? You’ve always been one for a good hypothesis, why not now?’

  Katherine, feeling small and under fire, looked to Nara for help, but found Nara staring blankly upwards at some pipework in the hull.

  She said, ‘I’ve no idea, Joss,’ which was the truth and must have come over as such, as Ratha gave a short grunt of disapproval but not disbelief. She looked around the dimly lit interior before settling on ROOT.

  ‘And what’s all this?’ she asked pointedly.

  Katherine frowned at the floor to avoid Ratha’s glower. ‘ROOT’s internal locks have jammed and he’s stuck in this bulkhead. We’re trying to figure out a safe way to remove him.’

  Ratha unhelpfully offered her opinion – based on no knowledge of GVX’s construction, but that detail didn’t seem to bother her. ‘Can’t you just cut through whatever anti-vibration mounts he’s sat in?’

  ‘Someone else suggested that,’ said Katherine, anger rising in her voice as she met Ratha’s narrow stare. ‘I’ll tell you what John said, his words exactly: “The anti-vibration mounting consists of eight wheels and sixteen temperature-controlled springs and dampers. Cut those if you like, but it will still leave you with a hundred and twenty tonnes of metal to deal with.”’

  Ratha, despite resenting Katherine’s tone, seemed not at all deterred by this insight. ‘Well then, you’ll have to remove these panels and cut a section out.’

  ‘It’s not that easy,’ said Katherine testily. ‘This isn’t a panelled wall, it’s a bulkhead, part of GVX’s structure. It was designed that way to give him maximum protection, you can’t just cut into it.’

  ‘So what are the options?’ asked Nara, speaking for the first time.

  ‘Well,’ said Katherine, considering her words carefully. ‘ROOT’s staying where he is, at least for the short term. John’s working on how to extract him safely. Whoever is going after Kyra could take an Ice Runner, but it’s unlikely they would catch up with her any time soon. Or we wait until we can use GVX and hope it’s as capable as we think.’

  ‘Or ROOT goes with GVX,’ offered Ratha.

  ‘I don’t see that as an option,’ said Katherine, regarding her in astonishment.

  ‘I don’t see why not. If I understood your ramblings in the Council meeting, you said ROOT has an idea where Kyra or HEX is heading.’ Her tone had become flippant, which put Katherine further on guard.

  ‘He’s not said anything further on that.’ She was going to continue but ROOT’s synthesised voice cut her off.

  ‘I can’t pin down precisely where they are going. The geography has changed over time, but I can get you very close.’

  Ratha looked around absently. Refusing to address the Intercessor directly, she looked back at Katherine. ‘Ask him, what geography? What’s changed?’

  Katherine was about to speak but again ROOT took the initiative. ‘You need only look around you, Councillor Ratha. Skala was built by a lake, yes?’ Ratha didn’t respond. ‘It was a sizeable lake when the city was built, over forty kilometres wide. Now it’s less than five kilometres wide. My data is much older than that. If I could give you a precise location, of course I would.’

  Astonishingly, Ratha seemed placated by this. ‘Well then, it makes sense to me for ROOT to go. He would have to be accompanied, of course. By someone with an adequate level of authority…’

  Her voice trailed off and Katherine saw Nara’s narrowed eyes scrutinising Ratha, who began again in a parental tone.

  ‘You were responsible for the commissioning, Katherine, is that right?’

  ‘Yes, I…’

  ‘And you’re a councillor, familiar with the tundra. Quite the right person to act as chaperone, wouldn’t you say, Nara?’ There was a snarl in her voice and, despite outward appearances, Nara was clearly under pressure.

  ‘You’re serious?’ asked Katherine.

  ‘Yes, I’m serious.’

  ‘You’ll consult the Matriarch?’ asked Katherine in faint disbelief.

  ‘Consult her? Don’t be stupid. I’ll tell her what’s going to happen. She’s in no position to object. With the migration coming, her time possessing any meaningful influence is over and she knows it.’

  Katherine, lost for words, looked back to Nara, who had fixed her attention on a survey drone hung on the cockpit bulkhead. ‘It does seem a plausible option at the moment, Katherine. I’m going to send supplies out to the furthest outpost we have in Ayon, which, at the moment, is Nastra – fuel, food and anything else we can get out there, to give you as much range as we can. You can burn as much fuel as you need to get to Nastra as fast as possible. After that you’ll have to rely on economy and mulching.’

  Katherine’s stomach gave a lurch at the mention of the Nastra outpost and Nara knew it. Ratha, however, seemed totally oblivious and smoothed her robe in readiness to leave.

  ‘Do I get a say in this?’ asked Katherine, looking from Nara to Ratha and back again.

  ‘Of course,’ said Ratha, with feigned conviviality, before snarling, ‘provided you agree.’

  She turned and swept out but Nara hung back a moment and regarded Katherine seriously. She pushed herself off the rib she’d been leaning on, her small frame poised as if ready for anything, despite her advancing age. Still fixed on Katherine, she dropped her head and closed her eyes a fraction longer than was necessary. Katherine understood the gesture, her discomfort now giving way to near panic. After Nara had gone she looked about her, lost for words or comprehensible thoughts. She waited as long as she felt she could before making her way into the hangar and out into the darkened outskirts of Skala.

  *

  She walked aimlessly for a time. The wide streets of the Central District were relatively empty, the sand-strewn cobbles looking dull and grey under the morose, blackened sky. There was no breeze but the temperature was lower than was typical. Her thoughts circled endlessly in her head. Kyra – what had she done and why? Ratha and Nara – why had they come to find her together? That was unprecedented. ROOT and GVX. Yes, she was probably the right person to pilot the huge vehicle into Ayon, but it all seemed too confused, too unreal and far too rushed.

  She turned back to the east. If she was going, and it looked like she was, she would have to pack clothes at least. She didn’t want to set foot in her apartment, but knew she had to. She wondered where Megan was – at home and safe, she hoped. She felt an intangible pull to be with her but knew that now was no time to intrude. Megan was so young, and needed their father and his family more than she did. Kyra’s actions would hit her hardest of all, Katherine knew.

  She walked a couple more blocks out of her way – anything to delay the inevitable and give her time to come to terms with it all. Still lost in thought, she ran her fingers through her hair and was brought back to the present by the sensation of cool dampness upon her skin. Bringing her hand down, she saw it was wet. She stood still and watched a few tiny droplets appear on her palm and fingertips. She raised her head towards the blackness of the sky above and felt cool, light raindrops kiss her forehead and cheeks.

  Skala had not seen rain for as long as she could remember, since she was a child in fact. The sensation was extraordinarily calming, her frayed nerves subsided as the hot tightness of her skin was cooled and cleansed. The few drips became a stream, then a torrent. She had forgotten the sound, the rush of raindrops striking hot cobbles, the muted thudding as they met dry dust and sand. She took in the smell of damp earth that rose up and filled her lungs. It only took a few moments for the street to become saturated; the old, disused drainage system had long been clogged and did nothing. It didn’t matter, though – drains were at the very bottom of a long list of priorities. She stood stock-still and closed her eyes as her clothes became wonderfully cool and sodden.

  She realised with a start she was standing next to a school. Suddenly, from every doorway, child
ren spilled into the street, whooping and laughing as they splashed into swirls of dust-filled water. Adults followed, as excited as the children. She watched as together they jumped and splashed, not caring how wet or dirty they were. It was an extraordinary sight, and for a moment, Katherine forgot her troubles. But she couldn’t forget the children, how she felt as a child before the death of her mother and how she still longed for children of her own. In that moment she was grateful beyond words for the flood of water that fell from the sky, hiding the tears that spilled down her cheeks and flowed out into the streets of the dying city.

  031: Council of Three

  The Landlord’s Arms, Gygath Slum

  ‘If you two ‘ave just done what I think you ‘ave this one’s on me,’ said the Landlord, smacking down a bottle of clear spirit in front of JT and Ira. ‘And there’s another one tucked under the bar for you for later.’

  ‘You sure?’ asked Ira, with one eyebrow raised.

  ‘You done good, Ira. Makes a change, I must say. They’ll be ready for you in ten to fifteen. I’ll tip you the wink.’ The Landlord turned before bellowing at a nearby table. ‘What are you bastards looking at? You’re supposed to be getting wasted, not interested.’ He playfully cuffed one of the men as he passed, eliciting a drunken grin for his trouble.

  ‘Can I ask you a personal question?’ asked Ira.

  ‘You can ask, but I can’t guarantee I’ll answer,’ said JT, expecting he knew what was coming.

  ‘You’ve just voluntarily walked into a mine and interviewed a known psychopath, a killer, in his own territory. I’m not saying you weren’t scared, I was shitting myself. But you don’t seem to care much about a threat to your life. Then there’s your flat, a total mess, and, worst of all, you’re sitting here sharing a drink with a man that knocked seven shades of shit out of you.’

  Ira leaned in, regarding JT quizzically. He grimaced as he spoke, as if the mental effort was a strain. ‘Have you recently figured out you’re gay or something?’

  JT choked on his drink but looked immensely relieved. ‘Well… You’re about 5 per cent right there Ira. No, I’m not gay. Would it matter if I was?’

  ‘No,’ said Ira, with total seriousness. ‘I’ve got no problem with that at all.’

  ‘Good,’ said JT, and took another swig of the fiery liquid. Then more seriously he said, ‘Obviously I’ve got some problems, I’m just not ready to talk about them yet.’ He looked down at the table while Ira looked on expectantly. Then he shook his head as if clearing it. ‘So what about you? What was that about a warehouse and CID?’

  Ira exhaled a short, nasal breath of amusement. ‘Well, I’ve had a decade to think about that, so I suppose I’m okay talking about it. I was an accountant before, if you can believe that. I worked for a water purification company in the Central District, a well-financed start-up.’

  He looked at JT a moment, seeking assurance, then lowered his voice.

  ‘Well, near enough a start-up. The company I worked for before that went bust, so I had to move. I was young, just like the company. For a few cycles it was great – we were treated well, worked hard, long rotations and all that. But they looked after us, arm around your shoulder, took you out at the end of a hard shift, that sort of thing. Then, when they felt they trusted me, when they felt they had me hooked to the good life, I got promoted. I started looking after more of the accounts and it didn’t take me long to figure out that something wasn’t right.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ asked JT, to fill a prolonged pause.

  ‘They were investing heavily in water purification, cutting-edge stuff on the face of it. But there was another arm of the company. It looked innocuous enough on the surface, but if I asked what it did I could never get a straight answer.’

  Again, Ira paused and stared intently at the knotted wood surface. JT felt obliged to prompt him. ‘What was it? Opium, money laundering, what?’

  Ira screwed up his face, as if the memory was painful, then took a swig of liquor. ‘They farmed shrubs. Fields and fields of shrubs. Well, one particular shrub. Do you know what Fatsia is?’

  ‘I’ve never heard of it,’ JT admitted.

  ‘It’s nothing special, but native to this area. Most people, farmers particularly, regard it as a pest of a plant. It has medium-sized leaves, small bulb-like flowering bits in the middle, I forget the actual term for them. So this company, of which I’m now a senior accountant, is growing masses of the stuff. They’ve taken out bank loans to finance it and all I’m told is it produces castor oil and there’s nothing to it. But I know full well they’re not selling castor oil. So what are they using it for? I have a friend, a biologist, in Ayon Research, so I ask her. She consults her books and finds nothing. Then a few cycles later she comes across a paper. It’s something related to a question put to the Intercessor ROOT, the only Intercessor Skala has at the time. The paper is to do with pathogens and plants, specifically Fatsia. According to ROOT, this plant can be processed to produce a potent pathogen he calls ricin, which is pretty deadly as a gas but less so if dissolved in water. My friend, concerned, passes this on to me.’

  ‘I can see where this is going.’

  ‘I bet you can. They’re poisoning the bloody water to justify the purification business, pure and simple. No one died as far as I know, but they proved there was a risk and built their livelihood on it.’

  He took another swig to fortify himself. ‘The company I worked for before was called INI Industries. Their main products were computer hard drives, emulators, that sort of thing. You know what I’m on about?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Well, INI went down like I said. The ‘Old Man’ wouldn’t change, and as soon as the solid-state memory stuff came on the market they were done for. The son took the fall, very unfairly in my view. That was Tyler Olson, who you met earlier. I’d heard talk he’d retrained and joined CID. He knew a lot about how big corporations operated, despite apparently not being able to run one himself. So, I looked him up and I told him what I’d found.’

  ‘And he understood?’

  ‘Yes, completely. I started to feed him information, copies of accounts, any paperwork I could lay my hands on. Between us we assembled a bloody great dossier – this was over a period of about six cycles. Where the stuff was grown, where it was processed and by who. The only thing we couldn’t rumble was how they were getting it into the water system, although we knew what part of the system was contaminated. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out, right?’

  ‘The slums,’ said JT, catching on.

  ‘Exactly. The point was to demonstrate how ill the water could make you if it wasn’t treated. The upper crust of Skala don’t want to be sick, so they agree loans to purify the water in the whole city to stop the spread. Other companies jump on the bandwagon, sewerage, drainage and all that stuff.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Nothing, we didn’t get the chance. There was a leak on the inside, within CID. During an off shift these two thugs came for me, dragged me into a meat storage warehouse, just to impress upon me the likely outcome of my situation. They tied me down to a chair in this tiled room where they bleed the carcasses, you know?’

  JT nodded, although in reality he had never set foot in such a place.

  ‘They gave me a good going over, like I did to you.’ He paused to give a brief grimace of regret but kept his eyes down. ‘Then one of them got carried away.’

  Ira looked up at JT for the first time in several turns then drew back his left sleeve to reveal a prominent scar that ran around the upper part of his bicep.

  ‘There was a lot of blood. Too much. They panicked and started arguing, worried I was going to die before they got paid their due. You probably won’t believe this, but the stupid bastards left me alone to call a doctor. They did, honestly.’

  ‘I believe you,’ said JT reassuringly.

  ‘That means a lot, for what it’s worth. They made another mistake. They shackled my hands with one of t
hose enforcement handcuffs that were popular at the time, the metal ones?’

  ‘I remember them.’

  ‘Well, there was so much blood running down my arm I managed to slide one hand out. Then I spun the cuff and used the ratchet to saw through the tiewraps on my legs. That was the most intense three turns of my life, I can tell you.’

  ‘I bet,’ said JT, captivated.

  ‘There was this drain in front of me, where the blood was running. It was big, made to cope with the cows from the outland farms, so I decided to hide in it. It might sound dumb but there wasn’t anywhere else to go. What I didn’t know until I climbed in was that it drained into the main sewer. I crawled for ages, I have no idea how I kept it up, but I did. I crawled through shit, piss, rotting bits of dead animal and anything else that gets flushed down there.’

  ‘You said you got blood poisoning?’

  ‘I did, and so much else.’ Ira looked down at the table, momentarily reliving the pain. Abruptly he was brought back to the present when the Landlord placed a hand gently on Ira’s shoulder.

  ‘They’re ready for you,’ he said softly.

  ‘I’ll tell you the rest another time,’ said Ira. ‘For now we need to talk about Mal-Kas.’

  *

  The elder woman sat at the low table, flanked by the bearded man and the wild, captivating younger woman. JT lowered himself down, and this time Ira moved to sit beside him. When nobody spoke and the elder woman resettled herself and frowned, JT felt obliged to say something.

  ‘You’re still not going to tell me who you are?’ he asked.

  The elder woman looked implacable, but the man and younger woman shifted uncomfortably. It was Ira who spoke next.

  ‘Considering what this man’s been through and what we’ve got to tell you, I think you should level with him. He’ll find out anyway.’