Noble Conflict (29 page)

‘Yes.’

‘To give her that necklace?’

‘Uh-huh. A very special necklace. It has twenty-one beads.’

Kaspar peered closer. Each bead had a long number etched around it. ‘What’s the significance of the numbers?’

Rhea smiled and cocked her head to one side.

‘Oh  . . . twenty-one beads. I get it. One bead for each member of the High Council?’ Kaspar stretched out his now-working left arm and took the necklace from Rhea’s unresisting hand. Resting the necklace on his chest, he twisted each bead round for a closer look, using the fingers of his left hand. His right hand was still useless. ‘These numbers  . . . are they  . . . are they sets of coordinates? You have the coordinates of all the twenty-one High Councillors? How on earth did you get that?’

‘Well, from the backup for the Power Grid Statistical Analysis department, of course.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Kaspar, handing back the necklace.

‘I get it, and I’m only eight.’

‘You’re cheating!’

‘Am not!’

‘You’re not really eight. You’re the same age as me.’

‘And a lot smarter.’

‘I’d be smart as hell too if I had the knowledge and experience of all my ancestors rattling around inside my head,’ frowned Kaspar, sitting up. He could sit up! His body was slowly becoming his again, though his right arm was still a useless lump hanging off his shoulder.

‘That’s a bit snotty, considering most of them died because of the Alliance,’ said Rhea.

‘Sorry.’ Kaspar grimaced. It was such a little word but it was all he had.

‘Common knowledge is how we evolve,’ said Rhea. ‘Our way of making sure we don’t make the same mistakes as our ancestors.’

‘Huh?’ Kaspar tried to stand but his legs still weren’t his own.

‘I told you; when one of us dies, all our memories, everything we know and everything we are passes as common knowledge to those left behind,’ said Rhea.

Kaspar shook his head. ‘How is that possible?’

‘Certain animals can do something similar. Sheep and blue tits and some other birds, I think. Have you never heard of communes of animals where one animal is taught how to overcome an obstacle, say to find food, and then all
the others know how to do the same thing without having to be shown? Well, it’s the same with us. We can share our knowledge, but only when we die. And not all of us can do it. Only a few, like me. All those who can pass on knowledge volunteer to fight to get back what was once ours. We’re the elite of the Insurgency. There aren’t very many of us left now, though.’

‘All of you who can pass on knowledge, you’re the ones I call ninjas,’ Kaspar realized.

Rhea nodded and continued to skip around him, her bare feet shining with the early morning dew from the grass.

‘Most of us live in Capital City using fake IDs and living fake lives. That’s why we have to use masks when we break into places, to protect our identities. You blew my cover when you came into my gym. I was very cross with you.’

Kaspar exhaled sharply when he remembered how to breathe. It all made so much sense now, the
real
reason why the Council were desperate for none of the Insurgents to die. ‘That’s why you’re kept alive in drawers, so that none of your knowledge can ever be passed on.’

‘You’re not very clever, are you?’ said Rhea. ‘Your mum figured it out all by herself.’

‘How the hell is any normal person supposed to figure out that you and the other ninjas have that capability?’ said Kaspar, stung.

‘Your mum did.’

‘Am I going to be stuck here for all eternity listening
to you tell me how stupid I am?’ snapped Kaspar. ‘Because if it’s a choice between you and living in a drawer, I’ll need to think seriously about it.’

Rhea stopped skipping to stare at him. She sniffed, her lips turned down, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. ‘That’s not very nice.’

Kaspar closed his eyes briefly before exhaling on a sigh. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m just angry and frustrated and I’m taking it out on you.’

‘You wouldn’t like it if you were shut up for ever in a drawer without ever being allowed to die and pass on what you know.’ Rhea was one wrong word away from bursting into tears.

‘I’m really sorry,’ said Kaspar. ‘I  . . . it’s all been a bit of a shock. And the worst part is, I can’t do anything about it now.’

Rhea knelt down next to him, her expression now serious. ‘What happens when there’s a major power cut?’

Kaspar blinked at her sudden change of subject, but her expression told him that what she was saying was important – at least to her.

‘Well, the backup power kicks in.’

‘And if it’s a
really
big power cut?’

‘The backup power is prioritized.’

‘To  . . .’

‘Hospitals, military headquarters?’

‘All of whose locations we know. And  . . . ?’

‘And  . . . other high-priority places?’

‘And what are your most important high-priority places?’

‘I don’t know. Key industries, computer nodes. Oh, wait! The mobile shelters of the High Councillors. They’re self-contained but they all tap into local power. I get it now. Anyone accessing the power-usage statistics can ignore fixed locations and concentrate on power drains in out-of-the-way places to locate the mobile headquarters of all the Council members. That’s why you needed the real-time power usage statistics, to find the Councillors’ current locations. And now you have the coordinates of all their locations. That’s brilliant.’

‘I like it,’ smiled Rhea. ‘It was my idea, actually. It’s ironic really. It only works because your High Council are so paranoid about security. If they parked their shelters near to factories or hospitals or major computer hubs, we wouldn’t be able to spot them. But they go and hide them in the middle of nowhere, so the power drains show up as anomalies. We can now locate all the High Councillors of the Alliance to within one hundred metres.’

Kaspar nodded slowly.

‘You get it now?’ asked Rhea.

He nodded again.

‘Rhea, why didn’t you just tell me this face to face? At the gym, or the night you came to my room?’

‘Would you have believed me? Besides, trusting any of you doesn’t come easily to us. The last time we trusted you, you stole everything from us and tried to wipe us out into the bargain. Besides, I didn’t come to tell you anything: I came to find out what you knew and how you
knew it. But we never wanted to kill people. And we had nothing to do with what happened at Loring School or any of the bombs that killed innocent people. We’ve only ever killed Guardians, and only then when we had no other choice.’

Kaspar nodded. ‘I know. By the way, how did you get into my room at the Academy that night?’

‘You could see some of my secrets so it’s only fair that I could see some of yours. I peeked into your memories to learn the layout of the Academy, guard patrol positions, passcodes to the doors and the exact location of your room.’

Oh God! She saw far more than Kaspar had thought possible.

Rhea stood up and faced him, her hands on her hips. ‘Two things. First, you should train more seriously. I kicked your bottom. Twice.’

‘Yes, you did,’ Kaspar agreed ruefully. ‘Thank you for not killing me.’

‘You’re welcome. Don’t make me regret it.’

‘And the second thing?’

‘Always check for hidden weapons. For instance, you didn’t suspect this, did you?’

Rhea fingered the chain around her neck and pulled out a pendant from beneath her dress. She held it out and Kaspar looked closely. It was a smaller version of her black dagger, barely ten centimetres long, in a snug little scabbard.

‘This belonged to my mother,’ she said. ‘I always keep
it close to my heart.’ She tucked the knife back into her dress. ‘I need you to use this on me.’

No way.

‘I can save you,’ said Kaspar.

‘No, you can’t. That SSG Guardian made sure of that,’ she replied. ‘I thought you said you got it now?’

‘I do. It’s just  . . . maybe our medical people could try to find a cure.’

‘It’s too late for that,’ said Rhea gently. ‘And we both know it.’

‘But what you’re asking me to do  . . . You’re not my enemy, Rhea. How can I kill you in cold blood?’

‘I know I’m asking a lot, but I’m also asking you to help me stop this war. I’m asking you to help me save hundreds, maybe thousands of lives. I need you, Kaspar,’ she said softly. She threw the necklace up into the air and caught it again. ‘It’s pretty, isn’t it? It really was
very
expensive.’

‘Yes, I know.’

Rhea gave him a significant look. ‘No, you don’t.’

Kaspar couldn’t look away. She was right. He had no idea how many of her friends, her family, had been tortured or were now living in stasis hell in the Clinic’s North Wing to enable her to get the information she had on the necklace.

‘It’s getting chilly.’ Rhea wrapped her arms round herself against the morning air, which was beginning to have a bite to it. A strange, icy breeze was beginning to blow around them. ‘It’s time for you to go back.’

‘Voss will be waiting for me,’ Kaspar protested.

‘You have surprise on your side,’ said Rhea.

‘Suppose I fail?’ said Kaspar desperately.

‘If you fail, we all do. So don’t!’ Rhea smiled. ‘I have to go to sleep now. I need you to promise me something.’

‘Anything.’

‘Promise me you’ll make sure I don’t wake up.’

Kaspar slowly opened his eyes. He tried to move, to stand, but his legs were still not accepting messages from his brain. Voss was standing seven metres away holding Rhea’s dagger. The unconscious girl still lay slumped across him, face down. His left hand was round her shoulders and his right was trapped between her stomach and his thigh. Kaspar shook his head to clear it. He needed to do this. He had one shot at getting it right. Voss wouldn’t give him another. But how could he do this when his body still wasn’t working properly?

Voss started towards him.

‘There’s still something I don’t get  . . .’ Kaspar began. Hidden from Voss by Rhea’s body, he wriggled the fingers of his right hand. Thank goodness. They were finally working. His right hand crept up the front of Rhea’s chest and hooked into the zipper of her costume.

‘And what would be the point of telling you now?’ asked Voss.

Six metres.

Kaspar slowly pulled down the zip. ‘Don’t you want to explain  . . . ?’

Five metres.

His hand reached between her breasts, and found the scabbard.

‘No, I don’t. I’m not Tilkian. Time to die, kid.’

Four metres.

Kaspar slid the knife from its sheath. It was small, but it was heavy.

‘Not even  . . .’

Three metres.

Heavy blade, minimal handle. Perfect for throwing.

‘Oh, shut up, Wilding,’ Voss hissed.

Two metres.

‘You’ve been a pain in my arse for the last time.’ Voss leaned forward and raised the dagger to point at Kaspar’s throat. Kaspar let his right hand drop slowly to the floor.

‘Goodnight, kid.’

One metre.

Yeah. Good night, you bastard! And rot in hell.

Kaspar brought the knife up smoothly in a rapid underhand throw. Kaspar was still weak, but over such a short distance he really couldn’t miss and Voss had no time to react. The knife caught him just under the sternum and lodged deep in the right ventricle of his heart. Voss made a little sighing noise and collapsed, first to his knees, and then face down on the floor, dead before he fully hit the ground.

Kaspar gently rolled Rhea off himself and then carried her a couple of metres further into the room, mainly to get her away from Voss. He walked back and prised Rhea’s
long-bladed dagger out of the hand of his dead boss, wiping it carefully on his sleeve. He didn’t even want Voss’s sweat on Rhea, much less his blood.

Outside, he could hear sirens approaching in the distance. He knew that in a couple of minutes the goons of the SSG would arrive looking for their boss, Tilkian. Kaspar knelt down and instinctively felt for her pulse. She was still unconscious from the effect of the neuro-paralyser, and according to Tilkian that was the way she’d stay, locked in her head, screaming silently in agony until the day she died. He took her hands in his, then stopped. He quickly went back to Voss’s body, rolled him over onto his back and pulled the little throwing knife out of his body. He wiped off the blood on Voss’s tunic before slipping it back into the scabbard on the cord around Rhea’s neck. He then zipped up her costume.

And yet he hesitated. Kaspar knew what was at stake, but could he do this? Cold-bloodedly cause the death of someone who wasn’t his enemy? But if he didn’t, nothing would ever change. The truth would never be known. And after tonight, when the Brothers and Sisters of the Council moved to new positions, the information on the necklace would be useless. The beaded necklace Rhea had held in her hands during his vision was just a dream-state representation of the knowledge she held in her head. If he didn’t do as she’d requested, he’d be failing her, and everything they’d both been through would’ve been for nothing.

It was the last thing she had asked of him.

He placed Rhea’s long-bladed knife in her right hand. Curling his fingers around hers, he held the point of the dagger pointed towards her abdomen, just like he’d seen the other ninja do.

‘I hope Grandma likes your present,’ he whispered.

And Kaspar pushed the knife inwards and upwards to the hilt. He owed Rhea a swift death, if nothing else. It took less than five seconds for Rhea to stop twitching. Tears in his eyes, Kaspar leaned over her to kiss her warm lips. He stood, stepped over Voss, walked past Tilkian without a backward glance and slipped away into the night.

In the Badlands, about a hundred and twenty kilometres from the city, a lizard scuttled away as a crack suddenly appeared in the hard-baked sand. A second parallel fissure opened up, and both lengthened and widened until a strip of sand about thirty metres long and four metres wide had been raised a few centimetres above the desert. Then the strip started to rotate along one edge, tilting up like a capsizing raft until a deep trench was revealed. But the trench wasn’t empty. In it lay a large truck with an armoured cab. The huge wheels were completely deflated and the engine was beyond repair, but on the back of the truck lay an immaculately maintained missile and its support equipment. As soon as the oblong piece of fake desert that had camouflaged it for so long was clear, the missile started to rise, the launch rail rotating smoothly until the missile pointed vertically.