Havoc (14 page)

‘All!' said Lanya.

‘But listen to me,' he said as he ushered us back into the office. ‘Since they came
to Sentian, young people have begun to disappear. One dozen, at least, in the last
four weeks. Young people your age.' He paused. ‘They are not the most cared-for young
people—they are the ones who sit on the street corners singing or rattling a cup.
One day there they are, the next—' he lifted a hand in dismay, ‘—gone. The soldiers
blame One City.' He shook his head. ‘It is not the work of One City.'

‘You think the army is taking them?' I said. ‘As conscripts?'

The head shake again. ‘They are young people without homes, without shoes, and not
healthy. They are not ready to be soldiers. I do not know. These are bad times.'

‘In Moldam, too,' I said and told him about the rocket attack and the lockdown.

‘Yes, I see,' he said. ‘Do you know about the postings? No? These are attempts to
spread the news, the real news: news of the army and the security service, news of
protests and talks, arrests and hearings. The news on screens, we
cannot trust, and
all actions online are watched. So, with the ingenuity of the human race—' he smiled
to himself, ‘—we have returned to the news on paper! Posted on walls and windows
and lampposts. Posted on posts!'

‘Where?' I asked.

‘Every day at a different time and a different place, because they are no sooner
posted than torn down or painted over. You see?'

I saw. ‘But do you know where and when?'

‘I like to read the news,' he said. ‘People know this, so every day, through my door,
comes a slip of paper with news of the news: a time, a place.'

‘Every day?' I said. ‘Today?'

‘Today has been. The corner of Gilley Street and West Oaks Avenue at 11am.'

‘Tomorrow then?' I said.

‘I do not know until tomorrow. The slip of paper only comes a short time before.'

‘Can we come back here early tomorrow and wait for it?'

He nodded. ‘Surely.'

‘Okay,' I sighed. A lead at last. If we could get to one of these postings, chances
are we could make contact with One City.

The tall clock in the corner with its slow pendulum and antique face struck four.

‘We have to go,' said Lanya.

Mr Corman told us to take care and walked us to his front door.

Back in the lane, Lanya said, ‘We will come back, won't we? After all this is over.
We'll come back and help him move the books before the 'dozers come?'

There were thousands of books in there, and Mr Corman probably knew every one of
them. I thought about ripping the demolition notice off the window, but that would
only bring him more grief from the army. He had enough grief.

‘I don't think he'll be moving his books,' I said.

She looked from the bookshop to me, taking in what that meant. ‘Or himself?' she
said.

‘Or himself.'

CHAPTER 18

Fyffe was on the lookout for us and hurried us up the stairs. ‘Dad's due back in
an hour. Then we're supposed to be going out somewhere for dinner, but I've told
him I'd rather stay in.'

Lanya and I paused at the top of the stairs. The games room was still in its half-dressed
state and looked forlorn in the slanting afternoon sunlight.

‘You haven't done much packing,' I said, half joking, testing Fy's mood.

‘I'm unpacking,' she said, flopping down on a couch and casting a glance around the
mess.

‘Oh,' I said. ‘Why?'

‘Because everyone is so keen for me to be leaving.' She looked at me defiantly. ‘You
have a problem with that?'

I held up both hands. ‘No, of course not.'

She beckoned us in. ‘Did you get to Sentian?'

Lanya sat on the edge of one of the leather armchairs, and I began a wander round
the room, peering into half-packed boxes. We told her Lanya's idea, that we try winning
Nomu herself over to Moldam's cause. It might at least put the lockdown front and
centre on the news and force Frieda to back off.

Fyffe nodded. ‘That could work. But how do we get to her with Moldam closed off?'

‘We have a boat,' I said.

‘Oh,' she said. ‘Wait a minute.' She fired up the flatscreen on the wall and zipped
through the day's archived news footage. ‘Not that boat?'

There it was, our boat in an item with a Southside Smuggling Shock banner headline
and a news reporter offering commentary as the battered old thing was lifted from
the water and carted away. We watched, forlorn.

‘Had a boat,' said Lanya.

‘All right,' I said. ‘We have to find the One City people. They must have links with
Southside—comms links or tunnels or something. There'll be a way.'

‘There's something else,' said Fyffe. ‘I went to see Dash.'

That stopped me.

‘I didn't say anything about Nomu,' she said. ‘I wanted to know why the lockdown,
but she's not letting on. She must know something. We'll have to push her.' She looked
at me. ‘Actually, you'll have to. She won't
take me seriously.'

‘And that would be fine,' I said, ‘But last time I saw her she tried to arrest me.'

‘She won't this time,' said Fyffe.

‘This time?'

Fyffe looked down at her hands. ‘I told her that I'd seen you. I know—I probably
shouldn't have—I didn't tell her you were here, but I said that you'd seen the lockdown
and that it was for real. She wants to hear about it from you. She'll be at the Inkwell
tomorrow morning at eight. I made her promise to come alone.'

I looked at Lanya. We were going to the bookshop tomorrow morning. But suppose we
found the One City people at the news posting, then we'd be swept off to do this
deal with Nomu. I wanted to see Dash; I wanted to know if what she'd said at St John's
the day before was true. That my mother had been an agent for the security services,
in other words, she'd been working with Frieda against Southside, against my father,
against all things Breken even though she was Breken herself.

This was off mission, as any good spook would say. It was a bad idea that could only
go wrong. Why not leave my mother to be the person I'd imagined her to be? Why go
digging?
Because
, the kid in me was shouting,
because I want to know!
And the me
that was trying to be a grownup was saying
shut the hell up, it doesn't matter.
But
it did.

‘We're supposed to be going somewhere else tomorrow,' I said. ‘To find us some One
City people.'

‘I can go,' said Lanya. ‘We can meet up after.'

‘You don't know the way,' I said. ‘And it's—'

‘Don't say it's dangerous! What isn't dangerous now?'

‘Okay, but you still don't know the way.'

‘I'll take you,' said Fyffe. She smiled a sunny smile at me as though she'd just
suggested a picnic on the heath. ‘You're not keeping me out of this. And don't look
so worried!'

I looked at Lanya who nodded, and I felt a guilty relief.

Fyffe was saying, ‘You go and find out what you can from Dash. She'll help, I know
she will.'

Maybe, I thought. But Dash had changed. We all had.

We stayed the night, camped in the spare room. Thomas Hendry came home and went out
again then Fyffe came in with a tray of ham sandwiches and chocolate cookies, and
we sat on the bed and ate and talked about One City and fathers and old Mr Corman
and school and Cityside food and what would it be like to leave all this and go somewhere
new.

Late in the evening Fyffe went off to her room and came back holding out her hand.
‘Look at this,' she said.

On her palm lay a finely crafted slip of silver, like an elongated S with as empty
centre. The talisman of the Southside Charter:
Not crescent, not cross…each to their
own god and their own Rule, but space at the heart of every Rule for mystery, for
the unknown.
She said, ‘I thought it might help us tomorrow in Sentian, if we need
to prove who we are.' She looked at it doubtfully. ‘It might not too, I suppose.
I don't know.'

She handed it to Lanya, who took it and turned it in the light and asked, ‘Where
did you get it?'

‘One of the nurses in the Moldam infirmary gave it to me,' said Fyffe. ‘When she
knew I was going back over the bridge with Sol. “A peace offering,” she said.'

Lanya nodded. ‘It's precious.'

She passed it to me. The talismans are supposed to be handed down, parent to child,
but sometimes, too often, parents reclaim them from the bodies of their dead children.
Sub-commander Levkova wore one for her daughter Pia. The one I usually wore had been
given to me by my father, but I'd left it behind to come to Cityside.

I handed it back to Fy. ‘Don't be caught with it by the wrong side.'

‘No,' she said and closed her fingers on it.

We talked some more, and I asked Fyffe if she ever saw Jono. Back in school, Fyffe
and Jono used to be together, the way Dash and I were, and Lou and Bella. Like Dash,
Jono had graduated straight from
school into the security services.

Fyffe shrugged. ‘Not so much. We had a—' she searched for the word ‘—a falling out.
A disagreement. I guess I came back from Southside a different person. He didn't
like that. He wanted me to be quiet and scared, like before. And I am still, quite
quiet and quite scared, but I don't need him to be rescuing me or protecting me,
you know? I told him that, but he wasn't happy about it. He thinks we should still
be together. But I do see Dash whenever I come to town. She doesn't mean any harm
to you, Nik. She thinks you've been brainwashed. As far as Dash and Jono are concerned,
everything Breken is hostile, and all Breken are the enemy.'

She stacked the dishes and stood up. ‘I'd better go. I'll see you both tomorrow.'

‘Fy?' I said as she reached the door. ‘Thank you. I mean…' I looked for more words,
but I couldn't find any big enough. ‘Thank you.'

Lanya took the bed and I took the couch. We turned out the light, telling each other
how tired we were and how great it was to have somewhere safe to spend the night,
but sleep deserted me completely. Her too, because after a while she said, ‘Nik?'

‘Mm?'

‘You asleep?'

‘I wish.'

‘What are you thinking about?'

Pause. ‘You. Me. You and me. Your family. Mine. Dash and Lou and Sol and Fyffe. Moldam
and the Marsh, revenge and the end of the world. You?'

She laughed softly, low and throaty. I loved that laugh.

‘And did you come to any conclusions about any of that?'

‘Nope. Not a one.'

We were whispering in case the Hendry bodyguard on the floor below us had robo-hearing.
She said, ‘I keep thinking, what if we're too late? What if that Kelleran woman has
ordered some kind of hit. I mean: Havoc. It means war and plunder and destruction…'
She rolled over and looked in my direction. ‘Are you afraid?'

‘Usually.'

She snorted a laugh. ‘You know why I like you?'

‘Wait. You like me?'

‘Shut up. You know
why
I like you?'

‘Is it for my extremely cool good looks and my amazing brain?'

She laughed again, into her pillow.

‘C'mon, humour me,' I said.

‘Okay. Those—'

‘Thank you and good night.'

‘But.'

‘Oh.'

‘Actually I like you most for something you're no good at.'

‘Terrific.'

‘I like that you're no good at pretending. You don't pretend you're not afraid. You
don't pretend you know the answers. Even when you first came to Southside, you didn't
try and tell people you were a Breken scavenger, you just let us assume that's what
you were.'

‘But you told me I was a different person over here.'

‘That's not you pretending, though. It's what the city does to you when you're here.
You slot back into it because this is where you grew up. You know it, and you know
how to work it.'

I thought about that for a while. Then the fact that it was too dark to see each
other and the other fact that tomorrow we'd be walking in different directions into
enemy territory made me brave.

I said, ‘How about pretending it doesn't matter that you might go off and be a Pathmaker.
How am I doing at that?'

There was a little silence. Then she said, ‘Um…'

‘Um?'

‘Okay. Not…badly, exactly….'

‘But not great?'

‘You give me space to think.'

I hesitated, unsure how to ask the next question. ‘How's it going, that thinking?'

‘It's got a little… derailed recently. I've had that plan my whole life. Derailing
doesn't come easy.'

‘So you feel like you're in a train wreck, then?'

I could hear the smile in her voice. ‘No. I don't,' she said. ‘Not even a little
bit. We'd better try and sleep.'

As if. But then I heard her breathing slide into a deep, easy rhythm. I lay there
listening to her, but it was a long time before I slept.

In the morning, Fyffe came in, closing the door carefully behind her. We were up
and dressed and waiting. She said, half whispering, ‘My medic friend just called.
Sandor's gone.'

‘Gone?' said Lanya. ‘As in dead?'

‘No, no. Gone as in disappeared from his bed some time in the night. It's crazy—it
makes no sense.'

‘It makes perfect sense,' I said. ‘He knows where Nomu is. I'd bet any money he's
after the reward.'

We were about to lose our one chance to bring pressure on Cityside.