The Bridge (21 page)

I knew my father’s name.

That was all I knew about him. I thought that if I ever saw Levkova again I would ask her who he was. I was the enemy to her now. But maybe, for the sake of the ten days we worked together, she’d tell me.

The door opened and a torch shone in my eyes. Jeitan’s voice said, ‘Come with me.’

‘Where? Is Fyffe okay?’

‘With your Maker friend. Hurry up. And keep your mouth shut. We get heard, we’re dead.’

I followed his torchlight along a twisting basement tunnel, through a series of doors. He fumbled with a bunch of keys to unlock each one, then locked them carefully after us. We went up some old stone steps to a ladder and a trapdoor, where he stopped. ‘This takes us outside. I’ll have to kill the torch and if you choose to run, I won’t stop you.’ He looked hard at me, the ‘guns and glory’ guise all gone.

‘But?’ I said.

‘Commander Vega could be killed tonight. Levkova has a plan to stop that. She needs us to put it in play.’

‘Us?’

‘You and me. She doesn’t know who Remnant has got to, so she can’t trust anyone in the squads. She thinks she can trust you.’ He shrugged in a God-knows-why sort of way. ‘Up to you.’

That was it: no threats – no ‘help us or we hurt you’
or, worse, ‘help us or we hurt Fyffe,’ just ‘help us.’

‘All right,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’

We’d come out on the west side of the hill, beyond the compound fence. The moon shone so bright that we cast shadows as we hurried down the slope. Jeitan broke into a jog once we reached the flat and after about twenty minutes we came into an unlit street where the houses all had tiny square patches of grass beside their steps, and broad pavements where bare-branched trees gleamed faintly in the moonlight. He unlocked the door of one of them and nodded me inside. ‘Levkova’s in the kitchen at the end. Go on.’

How do you front up to your enemy – that you’ve lied to and whose trust you’ve betrayed, and who has recently scared the living, breathing daylights out of you – how do you front up and ask them the most important question of your life?

I knocked and Max opened the door on a big old kitchen with a fire burning and a hefty table where Levkova was sitting. He patted my shoulder. ‘Youngster. Here you are. Jeitan’s lost his wager then.’ He cackled to himself as he left. I watched him go. I couldn’t look at Levkova.

‘He’s a good man,’ she said as the door closed. ‘A good man … I think I said that about you once. I was surprised, you see, that a scavenger from Gilgate should behave with
such … humanity. And now I’m even more surprised.’

‘I lied to you.’

‘And you would again, if you needed to. And rightly. Perhaps I cannot entirely trust you – no one trusts the city – but I do now believe you came here to find your friend.’ She studied me. ‘I know fear when I see it. It’s a great leveler. We use it when we must. We would do the same again.’

‘I almost told you once, but then Max told me about your family.’

‘Ah.’ She nodded and fell silent. The fire crackled and spat. At last she said, ‘It’s time, isn’t it, that someone told you about your family. Sit.’ I sat across the table from her.

‘Your mother’s name was Elena,’ she said.

‘You knew her?’

‘No. I never met her and – here’s an admission – I didn’t realize she was black. You’re the wrong color, you see, for all my preconceptions. But now that I look at you, you are so like your father. I should never have missed that.’

‘How do you know about her if you never met her?’

‘Your father told us. But they lived in the city and she never came over the river.’

‘You met my father?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘What happened to them?’

‘Elena was killed in an ISIS raid on what they thought was a Breken cell. Your father was in the Marsh at the time.’

‘Is that where he died?’

She looked at me. ‘Nikolai, child. Your father is not dead.’

Who is he? Where is he?
Why don’t I know about him? Does he know about me? If he knows, why did he leave me in that school all those years? Can I meet him? All that, I wanted to know – and more.

Levkova told me some of it. ‘He’s a strategist. One of our best. He moves around – it’s safer that way. We spread the rumor that he died getting out of the Marsh and, as far as we know, ISIS bought it and aren’t hunting for him. We must keep it that way. Do you understand?’

‘You mean I can’t tell anyone.’

‘I mean exactly that.’

‘Can I meet him?’

‘Yes, you can meet him, I promise, but right now I want to save Sim from a bullet. Oh, one more thing. Your friend is here. Sleeping upstairs. Safer, I thought, than leaving her in the infirmary.’

She called Jeitan in. ‘Jeitan thinks I’m mad to ask you for help. Why would a Citysider save the life of one of the city’s ablest enemies? But Sim is also one of its best chances for peace. Without him, CFM crumbles and the fanatics rule the day.’

‘What do we do?’ said Jeitan.

‘Start a rumor. That DeFaux is back, that he intends to assassinate Commander Vega at the ceremony tonight. Say that there’s a price on DeFaux’s head: medicine for a year for the family of whoever finds him before sundown. Nik, you’ll have to do this – you’re not a known face in the township and people down here won’t know or won’t care that you’ve been banished. Jeitan, go back up the hill, and when the rumor gets there, do your best to confirm it as officially as you can. Say that you’ve heard that Council will guarantee the reward. They can hardly deny it.’

‘What if we get to sundown and we’ve got nothing?’ asked Jeitan.

‘Then we escalate.’

‘How?’

‘We start a riot. Anything to stop the Crossover ceremony taking place. Are we clear? Good. Find some food and take an hour’s sleep upstairs if you must. I’ve sent word to the CFM leadership in Ohlerton, Gilgate, and Ferry Junction.’ She looked at me. ‘Those are the bridge councils that CFM still holds, upriver. I hope some of their people will get here in time for tonight.’

I hesitated in the doorway and decided to push my luck. ‘After this – if it all works out – will you help me find Fyffe’s brother?’

She looked up from the fire. ‘Yes, Nik. I will.’

Crossover morning dawned cold, with mist rising off the river. I spent it standing in the bread queues, wandering in the Crossover Day market, and hovering at street corner fires saying, ‘Have you heard …’ And thinking about my father: I had a father and I was going to meet him. Did it occur to me that he might not want to meet me? Not for a second. He was going to be overjoyed that I (a) existed, (b) had survived, and (c) had found him at last.

Before long I realized that I had a shadow. Lanya was watching me. She didn’t come close enough to talk, but whenever I looked around, there she was, standing on a street corner or leaning on the side of a building. After three hours of me wandering about rumor-mongering, she was still there. I came out of the crowd in the market square and saw her sitting on the steps of an old theater. She looked up at me as I approached and I stopped in case she didn’t want me near, but she nodded towards the steps and I sat beside her.

‘How’s Fyffe?’ I asked.

‘She’s on the mend, but worried about her brother. What are you doing?’

‘Something for Levkova.’

‘Oh.’ She nodded. ‘Do you think she’s forgiven you?’

‘I don’t know. Have you?’

She looked across at the crowds in the market. ‘I can see why you did it. You couldn’t leave a child to the traffickers. I asked the Commander about Fyffe’s brother – they turned Goran’s place into pieces, but he wasn’t there.’

‘No. They got wind we were looking and took him somewhere else. At least we know he’s alive.’

We watched the crowds and Lanya said, ‘What you’re doing for Levkova. Is it so secret you can’t tell me?’

‘Probably,’ I said, and told her.

She listened, frowning, then said, ‘Remnant are on the attack. We can’t lose Commander Vega. That would be disastrous. Levkova is right: if anything’s going to unearth DeFaux, the promise of a year’s medicine will do it. But there’s not much time, is there.’

‘We have to try.’

She held up a finger. ‘Did you hear that?’

‘What?’

‘You said
we. We
have to try. What do you mean? Why would you help us? Don’t you have loyalties?’

‘To what? The city?’

‘Of course.’

‘I don’t know what that is anymore. I thought I knew. I thought I knew what Southsiders were like as well.’

‘I see. You’re not a very good Citysider, are you?’

‘My mother was Breken.’

‘Your mother? Well, that explains a few things. But don’t you have people over there? Fyffe’s family? Your school?’

‘My school is a bombsite. My best friend is dead. Fyffe’s family – yeah, I’ll do what I can to get her and Sol home.’

‘You have a girl. Fyffe said so.’

‘Sort of. At least … I don’t know. I thought I did.’

She grinned. ‘You
sort of
have a girl?’

‘Well, you’re finding it hard to forgive me and I’ve known you all of two minutes. I’ve known Dash most of my life and I’ve only just told her I speak Breken. She didn’t take it all that well. She doesn’t know about my mother yet.’

Lanya laughed.

‘What’s funny?’ I said.

‘You are. You’re afraid to tell your girl – what’s her name? Dash. You’re afraid to tell Dash about your mother.’

‘So?’

‘You think she’ll be upset because your mother was Breken?’

‘Yes. No. All right – she’ll be upset because I am.’

She twisted round to look at me, still smiling. The world brightened. ‘There,’ she said. ‘You said it. It’s not so bad! And for that – yes, I do forgive you. Can I help you spread the rumors?’

Early afternoon, we headed back to Levkova’s. Fyffe was sitting at the kitchen table, talking to Vega and Levkova about Sol. ‘Remnant have him, almost certainly,’ said Vega. ‘I’d say he’s well cared for. He’s worth a lot of money.’

‘For you, too?’ asked Fy. ‘If you get him back, you’ll have us both to ransom.’

Vega sat a while looking at her and I think he was angry, but when he spoke his voice was quiet. ‘I know what they tell you over the river about us. Let me tell you this. Not all of us are prepared to barter the bodies of children for profit.’

Fyffe dropped her head and whispered an apology.

‘No matter,’ said Vega. ‘If we can find your brother, we will.’ He stood up, greeted Lanya, and nodded at me.

Before I could work out what that meant, Jeitan came in at a run, calling, ‘News!’ He pulled up when he saw Vega and remembered to salute. ‘Sir!’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Sir, we have a lead on DeFaux’s whereabouts.’

Vega glanced at Levkova. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘Where?’

‘The old art gallery in Newbourne Lane.’

‘Is that so? Well, it’s useful, certainly, but if we take him now, we’ve got no evidence.’

‘We’re not waiting until he shoots you, Sim,’ said Levkova. ‘I’ve sent word to the others. I think you’ll find you’re out-voted.’

‘Outmaneuvered, you mean. I won’t ask how you did it, but I assume you have a plan?’

‘Take him now. I think he’ll sing us a sweet little song about Terten. He has no loyalty. He’ll do what’s best for himself.’

‘That may be so but I can’t just walk in there with a squad and no proof.’

‘So we send Jeitan and Nik. They watch. They send word when he makes a move. We’ll have a squad ready once he reaches the square.’

Which is how I came to be doing an impression of a skiddy, lounging under a tree in the park – what used to be a park – in front of an ugly concrete block of a building that had once been an art gallery. They’d given me a lethal-smelling bottle of ‘shine, and a description of an assassin: fortyish, short, thin – everyone was thin here – long face, straight nose, large ears, and close-clipped, fair hair.

I was sitting there wondering how Sol was, where Sol was, when I felt the press of cold metal on the back of my neck. The chill of it charged straight down my spine.

‘Well, shit,’ Benit’s voice. ‘Just look at this. An escaped prisoner. Should we shoot it?’

‘I’m game.’ Hell. Benit and friend. ‘We’ll ask questions later, yeah?’ He laughed at his own amazing wit.

‘Get up.’ Benit again. The gun knocked at the top of my spine and I thought about the damage it could do even
if he never fired it. ‘Get. Up.’ I stood up. ‘What are you doing here?’ he said. ‘Why aren’t you under lock and key up the hill?’

‘Why don’t you go up there and ask them?’

He spun me round and pushed me against the tree. ‘That mouth of yours ever get you into trouble?’

‘Now and then.’

Benit and Benit II were a match – same haircut, same sneer – but Benit II must have been junior because he didn’t have a gun. Benit senior had an elderly assault rifle. He lifted it in my face. I looked at his eyes, narrow and stony above the barrel, and wondered how worn the trigger was and how itchy his finger. ‘You should run,’ he said. ‘That’s what your riot police say, isn’t it? Run or we’ll shoot – of course what they really mean is run
and
we’ll shoot, but I guess you know that.’ He smiled a cold tight smile. ‘Go on, then. Run. We’ll look after your whore.’

Benit II sniggered. ‘You know what they say about city girls.’

‘I SAID RUN!’ yelled Benit.

‘Ben!’ Jeitan’s voice, behind me. I didn’t dare turn my head to look.

‘J!’ said Benit. ‘Look what I found!’

Jeitan arrived in front of us. ‘He’s with me,’ he said.

The gun wavered. ‘He’s what? He’s supposed to be locked up.’

‘Put the gun down. What’re you two doing over this side of town? You’re supposed to be drilling for parade tonight.
Put it down!
‘

‘Special detail,’ said Benit and he lowered the gun. I practiced breathing.

‘For what?’ said Jeitan. ‘Who authorized it?’

‘Can’t say.’ Benit II was shooting agitated looks towards the gallery.

Jeitan watched him, frowning. ‘Protection duty?’

Benit II said, ‘A VIP for tonight.’ His partner gave him a shut-the-hell-up look and he shrugged.

‘DeFaux,’ said Jeitan. ‘You’re protecting DeFaux. Who’re your orders from?’