Trinity

by Patrick Morgan

  Ratha pointed directly down to a drain beside her. They all stared at it for a moment, then looked impassively back up at her. She looked frustrated, as if recognising that the message was not getting across.

  Emboldened by the Councillor’s apparent failure to get through to the group, Reva took another step towards her. ‘We’ve all been working with this syndicate of yours. What exactly is it you want?’

  Ratha fixed Reva with a venomous stare, her eyes narrowing to slits. Then, as if she had got the measure of the woman, she looked back to the group and said simply, ‘Discipline. I want discipline. Make sure your house is in order.’ She looked down to the grate beside her. ‘Fortunately, the little bastard that slithered into this drain is no more than a corpse rotting in the sewers, but I don’t ever want a repeat of that episode. Is that clear?’

  ‘You’ve made your point,’ said Reva, glibly. ‘Now what about our concessions?’

  Ratha smoothed the material of her grey robe, propped her hands on her hips and pushed her chin forward. ‘Nothing changes,’ she said flatly. ‘The mining subsidies will keep flowing for as long as is practical, the same goes for the refineries. There is nothing more I can do about the fulgurite situation, that’s down to the weather and even I can’t control that.’

  ‘What about the water supply?’ asked a tall man from the rear of the group.

  ‘Ah, Mitchell Crowder,’ said Ratha, affecting mock recognition. ‘I had forgotten you were here. Maybe you can explain to your colleagues the significance of this room in more detail? After all, it was your company that caused us all so much grief.’

  When Crowder didn’t respond, Ratha continued. ‘The arrangements for the water supply and filtration remain unchanged. The necessity is still assumed.’

  ‘With regard to Aya, there was a concern,’ began Crowder, but Ratha cut him off. ‘There was. It’s no longer a concern. Councillor Kane is not a factor. Whatever she might have discovered, which I suspect is very little, doesn’t matter if she’s not here.’

  ‘And the Intercessors?’ asked Reva with a raised eyebrow. ‘They are both out of the picture too. Was that your doing?’

  ‘Partly,’ said Ratha, who could not take credit for whatever madness had taken Kyra Devin. ‘Isn’t it amazing how a little push in the right direction can get you what you want, if you can take advantage of the prevailing circumstances?’

  ‘Whatever,’ said Reva dismissively. ‘I’ll ask you again, what is it you want from us? Discipline is all well and good, but it’s hard to imagine that’s the limit of your needs.’

  Ratha bridled, but kept control of her temper. ‘I want your support, when the time comes.’

  ‘You want to be Matriarch,’ said Reva, with ill-concealed exasperation.

  ‘That is already assured,’ said Ratha. The statement clearly startled Reva and had a discernible effect on the rest of the group. In the pause that followed, the Councillor took on a significantly more formidable persona. ‘What I want is for you to deliver me, via your employers, the means to change how our people are governed. You want change as much as I do – we’ve done enough skulking around trying to keep Skala going while pandering to the bleeding hearts. It’s time we cut off the dead weight and severed the red tape. We’re not going to repeat the mistakes of the past. There will be no slums in Aya, no divide in the chamber. It will be one city, where the righteous rule for the benefit of all. That’s what I will give to you if you choose to take it. If you don’t, then you’d better get the hell out of my way.’

  Reva looked momentarily surprised at this unexpectedly eloquent speech. She blinked a couple of times then, as if speaking for the rest of the group, shrugged and said, ‘Well that sounds desirable.’

  Ratha was clearly not impressed by Reva’s offhand manner and narrowed her eyes once again. ‘I assume you know what some people call me, Miss Reva?’

  Reva gave a little snort. ‘The Grey Lady.’

  ‘No,’ said Ratha, her tone dangerously low. ‘They call me the Hellion Bitch. Do you know what a Hellion is?’

  ‘I don’t,’ said Reva cautiously. She had in fact heard the name, but was nonetheless astonished Ratha had any awareness of it.

  ‘A Hellion is a daemon of the old world the bards speak of. I don’t expect history is a subject you have time for, between orchestrating your covert tapping of the Skala water supply from inside your plush office and your disgusting sexual liaisons outside of it.’

  An incandescent anger welled up in Reva as she felt the withering look of Crowder upon her from behind. That Ratha could be aware of either of these things was utterly unthinkable. What else did she know?

  ‘Do you see what I mean about the discipline now, Miss Reva?’

  ‘I do,’ said Reva, through gritted teeth.

  ‘Good. I expect Mr Crowder here will want a little chat after I’ve done with you. I trust we are clear on where we stand?’ This was apparently addressed to the group as a whole. ‘Don’t think Miss Reva is the only person I can dish the dirt on. I expect you all to stay in line and vote favourably when required. Do we have an understanding?’

  There was a collective murmur of assent while the Hellion Bitch assessed them with contempt.

  ‘Be under no illusions. Katherine Kane may be out of the picture for now but Kyle Devin is very much in the picture. If there is a threat to the Syndicate, it will almost certainly come from him.’

  ‘What about Nara Falla?’ asked Crowder, his anger at Reva held in check.

  ‘Nara’s hardly a problem. Her position is effectively redundant and she seems occupied starring at lumps of ice, so I see no reason to dissuade her from that noble pursuit.’

  ‘And Urasa’s onside now?’ asked Reva, recovering some of her former confidence.

  ‘Victor has his own agenda. He’s reduced the Privy Council to a state of disarray, which strengthens our position. Selwyn Abbot has effectively removed himself as a chamberlain, but I don’t think he knows that yet.’

  ‘I heard he won a no-confidence vote,’ said Reva, but Ratha cut in to correct her.

  ‘Quite the opposite. The vote was a confidence vote, not a no-confidence vote. No one voted in Abbot’s favour, he just didn’t notice. Petty I agree, but those are the rules.’

  Joss Ratha gestured to the open metal door and waited patiently for her guests to file out. It was lost on none of them that a single rack of meat hooks had been arranged next to the exit, each clearly engraved with a name. Not a single member of the group was left in any doubt who was in charge and, as Reva and the rest were soon to discover, this was just the first play of a much longer hand.

  038: Reunion

  Nastra Research Station, 5,100km East of Skala

  GVX’s progress steadily improved over the course of two shifts as the blizzard eased. Thoroughly exhausted, Katherine had been relieved to switch back to normal visual mode, exchanging mesh projections for a grey landscape lit by the diffused glow of a pink moon. ROOT was apparently keeping his own counsel and had not uttered a word for several rotations. Jacobs had nodded off beside her and she’d let him sleep – the mountainous terrain made the driving punishing, and neither could last long before needing a break.

  After some time searching, Katherine finally found the narrow, orange beam of a guidance light that reached up to the heavens from a distant vale. She steered towards it and a few kilometres later, a settlement came into view. Through flecks of falling snow, she could just make out the slim trellis structure of a communications relay pylon amid sparse, prefabricated buildings. Pushing forward on her splints, she throttled down and GVX came to a gentle, controlled halt just inside the tangled remains of a perimeter fence. The change in engine note made Jacobs stir.

  ‘We’re there?’ He sounded groggy and looked shattered.

  ‘Yes, we’re there,’ she said, resigned and a little sad. ‘I think it would be prudent to wake the others and expand the flanks. We could be here a few rotations or more.’

  ‘No prob
lem,’ said Jacobs. ‘I bet expanding will wake them up anyway, so…’ Reaching over to the console, he activated the controls to spread the hull. Motors whirred as the compartments moved out of the central chassis and locked into place.

  Katherine peered out of a side window projection at a nearby cylindrical tank. ‘I guess that’s the fuel pickup.’

  Jacobs, now fully awake, quickly verified all was well before putting the V10s into five-cylinder idle mode. Katherine stared expressionless out to a hut that stood dark and resolute amid the falling snow. For a moment, light spilled from an open door before a single figure blocked it. Trepidation gripped her stomach as she watched. The backlit figure pulled a fur-lined hood over its head and started out towards GVX.

  ‘Man, at least there is someone still alive out here,’ said Jacobs, noting the figure as he worked his control pad.

  Katherine climbed out of her seat with a speed that took him by surprise, her movements almost aggressive. Confused, he levered himself up to follow, finding her already stripped of her jumpsuit and pulling on a thin, woollen base layer.

  ‘You seem in an awful hurry to get out of here,’ he said, more sharply than he intended.

  ‘Let’s just say I want to head off any problems early,’ she replied, putting a leg into waterproof trousers. ‘You stay here and get Jayce and JJ to organise the refuelling.’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ he said firmly, retrieving his own gear. ‘Whoever that is has probably been here a long time, and it’s not exactly unknown for these Deep Ayon Research people to go a little bit nuts. No disrespect.’

  ‘He’s been here four cycles and he’s not going to be nuts, trust me,’ she sighed. Flicking her hair through a neck sleeve, she was at the exit before he could ask more. Frigid air streamed into the galley as the outer door opened. Jacobs pulled on his thermals, relaying the instructions for Jayce and JJ as he did so.

  By the time he was down the ladder, Katherine was at least twenty paces ahead of him. The air was the coldest he’d experienced and was strangely tasteless. Loose power hissed across the surface of deep, dry snow that juddered underfoot as he walked. Intermittently, the sound was loud enough to drown the gusting winds that howled though trees high up in the surrounding hills.

  Katherine approached the lone figure and, although Jacobs couldn’t make out their first exchange, he sensed an intimacy between them that stopped him short. He stood for a moment, hearing only the patter of fine particles against his coat and face before hesitantly approaching to within earshot.

  ‘I’m not insane, Iain,’ Katherine said, clearly exasperated. ‘I’ve got a job to do. We’re passing – collecting fuel, supplies and that’s all. I thought you might actually help us out.’

  The hooded figure looked up and in the dim light Jacobs caught straggles of hair strewn across a male face. ‘Help you? You’re mad. How in this world can I possibly help you? I’m here alone with scant resources, not to put it too mildly. Take the fuel, that’s nothing to do with me. But I can’t help much with this almighty thing.’ He gestured toward GVX which, in contrast to the dilapidated shack behind him, was a technological palace.

  Resignation washed over him and he sighed. ‘For the love of God, come inside. Bring your friend if you must.’

  Not looking at Jacobs, Katherine followed the man a pace or two behind. The crunch of the snow turned to a squeak as it became compacted around the boundary of the station. They headed past the wire of an inner fence towards a door, which screeched open on overstretched springs. The warm glow of sodium light spilled out onto the snow as they entered the building, the door banging shut behind them.

  The man pulled down his hood to reveal shoulder-length black hair and a strong, good-looking complexion hidden behind grey-streaked stubble. He rolled his eyes at Katherine, then reached past her to shake Jacobs by the hand. Jacobs greeted the loner with a restrained uncertainty.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, I’m Iain. What the hell has she roped you into?’ There was ill-concealed disrespect in his voice. Jacobs, deciding discretion was the better part of valour, looked to Katherine for an answer, but none came.

  ‘Good God woman, get your things off and go through there. There’s a rec room of sorts. Be with you shortly.’ He turned abruptly and pushed at another door. It banged shut behind him on a failed damper.

  Katherine reluctantly fought her way out of her coat, which was sodden with snow despite the short time they had been outside.

  ‘You know him?’ Jacobs asked.

  ‘Yes,’ was all she offered.

  ‘Worked together?’

  ‘No, we never worked together.’

  ‘Then what?’ Jacobs couldn’t help feeling annoyed, at her recent dark mood and now this evasiveness.

  She reluctantly came to a decision, and spoke in a sharp, disapproving tone he had not heard from her before. ‘He’s my husband.’

  ‘Your what?’

  ‘My husband, Iain Kane. We’ve been married seventy cycles but…’ her voice trailed off.

  ‘But you’re not together now?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s complicated,’ she said. ‘I knew this was coming. I’m sorry, I should have told you.’ Her eyes were filled with apology and self-pity.

  Jacobs shook his head, trying to make sense of it. ‘I should keep out of this,’ he said, genuinely wanting no part of any sort of retribution.

  ‘Just stay here,’ she said, in a pleading tone. ‘He’s been out here for cycles and, like I said, it’s complicated between us. He’s not dangerous or anything,’ she said, suddenly defensive. Seeing his wide-eyed expression, she assured him, ‘It’s just a mess. He wanted to get away and now here we are. It’s not exactly fair on him either.’

  Jacobs wasn’t willing to take that assertion at face value, but nevertheless agreed to stay out of the way.

  ‘I’ll be a while,’ she said. ‘Don’t be too alarmed if there is some shouting to be done.’

  Jacobs drew in a deep breath. ‘Whatever you say, ma’am.’

  *

  The rec room was sparse, with only a couple of partially disintegrated armchairs offering comfort to the inhabitants of this most far-flung outpost of humanity. Picking the nearest, Katherine perched on the edge of the worn seat cushion. It wasn’t long before a second door creaked open and Iain Kane entered, settling himself into the other chair. He was holding a short length of corroded steel tube, apparently a fence support. He didn’t look at her, preferring to concentrate on winding a length of leather twine around it. His hair, much longer than it had been when she had last seen him, drooped forward, partially obscuring his face. Before he spoke, he reached behind him to a low shelf and dragged a bottle from it, taking a swig before he finally looked up.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here Katherine?’

  She thought a moment, picking her words carefully. ‘I’m not here for you, Iain, but it is nice to see you.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ he said, in a disbelieving tone.

  ‘I said I’m not here for you,’ she flung back at him.

  ‘Yes, I realise that, but I can’t imagine it is nice to see me.’

  She shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. ‘You came out here of your own choice.’ She had hated these exchanges back in Skala but here, in the meagre dilapidation of his exile, the feeling was a hundred times worse.

  ‘Choice – that’s rich, coming from you,’ he said, placing the bottle carefully at his feet. ‘You left me long before I came out here.’

  ‘How?’ she said, simply but with conviction.

  He looked down at the tube. This was an argument she guessed he must have had a hundred times over in his mind, just as she had.

  ‘You left me the moment we were married. You preferred to spend more time with work and your colleagues than you ever did with me.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ she insisted incredulously. ‘I gave up some of my work for you. It was my whole life and then there was you.’

  Again he didn’t loo
k up. ‘You gave up some of your work, that’s great. I gave up everything for you. I waited in that apartment every shift, not knowing when or even if you were coming back. Every shift, Katherine. Every single bloody shift.’

  She didn’t respond right away. When she did it was in a measured tone. ‘What I was doing, what I am doing now is important.’ She paused again, the silence briefly hanging over both of them. She went on, conviction strong in her voice. ‘I was planning the migration of our people. A necessary move to Aya. That is more important than anything any generation has had to face in nearly thirty decades.’

  He fed the leather twine around the pole, making a knot with his strong fingers. Katherine noticed the muscles in his exposed forearms. They were every bit as strong as they ever were back in Skala, where he trained every shift without fail.

  Presently he spoke again. ‘Ratha – that woman is poison and you know it.’ He fixed his eyes on her as he reached down to the bottle to take a swig.

  ‘She’s misunderstood, and not just by you,’ she said in a supplicatory tone. Seeing derision writ clear on his face she started again. ‘She’s abrasive, I’m not disputing that, but she’s got good hearts. She has helped me my whole life.’

  Kane shook his head at her slowly. ‘That woman took you. She monopolised your time, shift after shift, and for what? Every time you came back with the same story, the same conversations over and over again. Okay, she advanced your career, but for her gain, not yours. Can’t you see that?’

  Deep down Katherine felt some truth in this, but natural defensiveness got the better of her, as it usually did. ‘She did help my career enormously, and I owe her for that.’

  ‘You don’t owe her shit. She used you – your father never did that. He stood you on your own two feet and trusted in you, he didn’t interfere. But Ratha did, and you let it happen to the detriment of you and me.’