Divergence (35 page)

Edward sat back in his seat, his posture one of happy contentment.

“I like it here,” he said. “I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.”

Maurice let out a tired laugh. “Oh, Edward. Don’t be such a fool.”

“Leave him alone,” Saskia said indignantly. “You have to admit, the place is beautiful.”

“Of course it is,” Maurice said. “That’s because it was made that way by the Watcher. And look at the people, smiling and happy and following the paths set out to make their lives satisfying and fulfilled.”

“Yes,” Edward said. “It’s nice.”

“No it’s not,” Maurice said. “This is the logical conclusion of the Watcher’s ideals. The whole process has just been accelerated since the arrival of the Dark Plants. The planet is on a war footing now, fighting the seeds and the BVBs, and that’s been sufficient excuse for corrupt leaders to do whatever they like, for all of history.”

“Well, I don’t see what is so bad about it,” Edward said, folding his arms defiantly.

“You will,” said Maurice. “You will.”

The Lite train dipped underground. Patterns of lights strobed past them as they descended to an I-train station.

“We’re stopping,” said Edward. “Are we there?”

“No,” said Maurice. “We’re changing to an I-train. It will cut a chord through the Earth…”

The Lite train emerged into a great open space lined with blue glass. The flexible silver snakes of several I-trains were coiled around a central pillar.

“Which way now?” asked Saskia as the train slid to a halt and the door opened up.

“This way,” said a passing man wearing a dark beard and a grey kilt.

“Look over there,” Edward breathed. Rising above the hurrying passengers, Saskia saw the banded pillar of a lighthouse, its honey eye watching the crowd. She shivered and followed Judy and Constantine across the platform, underneath the blue-patterned roof of the terminus.
We must look odd
, she thought,
all of us wrapped up in our active suits. Everyone else looks so happy and free. Short skirts and bare arms and open sandals, while we are breathing recycled air. Maybe if I were to just take off my hood?

“Let me help you!”

A young man dressed in green had appeared at her side. He was already helping Miss Rose into the wheelchair he had fetched from somewhere.

“Thank you, dear,” Miss Rose said.

“No problem.” He smiled. “Now, platform nine point seven five, isn’t it?”

Off they went, Judy and Constantine striding ahead.

“Not long now, Judy,” said Constantine.

Snow was falling in the square in Freiburg. They emerged from the I-train terminus into daylight to see millions of flakes falling out of the sky towards them.

“I’m cold,” Miss Rose complained loudly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Saskia. “Let me have a look at you.”

“Why should she be cold?” Maurice wondered. “She’s wearing an active suit.”

“Something’s the matter,” Edward said. “Look at all the people.”

The square was bordered by old gingerbread buildings. The people within its open space were dressed in the same bright colors as those of St. Petersburg. The same food stalls surrounded the square, but the busy activity was coming to a startled halt. Fathers paused right in the act of buying pretzels and hot soup for their children; the conversation of the crowd around the Glühwein stand stumbled and faded.

“What is it?” asked Edward.

“Oh, hell…” Saskia said. “Look over there….”

Like snowflakes in her veins, her whole body was chilling at the sight. There were lighthouses all around them, peering over the tops of the gingerbread buildings. The honey-colored bands around their tops were darkening.

Constantine had already seen it. “Quick,” he called, “back into the I-train terminus.”

“But what does it mean?” Saskia’s voice was shaking.

“It means there’s something here that the Watcher doesn’t want us to see,” Judy said grimly.

The dark entrance to the I-train terminus lay just ahead.

“Come on, Miss Rose,” Saskia urged. She glanced back towards the darkening eye of the nearest lighthouse and shivered.

“Hey,” called Judy. “Wait for us!”

A woman was in the process of closing the shutters across the entrance to the I-train terminus. She gave Judy a smile.

“Sorry,
Schatzi
. They’ve calculated the capacity of the trains, and there is space only to transport the passengers already down there away.”

“But what are we supposed to do? We have an old woman with us!”

A flicker of something close to envy crossed the woman’s face.

“In that case count yourself lucky.”

Flakes of snow purred down, seemingly from nowhere, endlessly manufactured somewhere in the churning emptiness of the grey sky. Snowflakes clung to the hats and coats and eyelashes of the pale-faced pedestrians that were calmly emptying from the square. Saskia held out a blue arm to halt a young woman with strands of blond hair curling down from her black fur hat.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Chris is attacking,” replied the young woman. “He has seeded Dark Plants somewhere close by.”

“Chris?” said Judy, swiftly moving to stand between Saskia and the young woman. “Did you say Chris?”

The young woman gave a tight smile, then pointed along the road, in the direction from which she had just come.

“The source is back down there. Follow me. We might be able to outrun it.”

Calmly, she removed Saskia’s hand from her arm and resumed her steady pace along the street.

“Why does nobody run?” Saskia asked, looking puzzledly at the stately stream of pedestrians flowing along the street.

“Because it’s safer that way,” said Maurice. “It stops there being a stampede and people getting hurt.”

“Well, that’s sensible I suppose,” Saskia said. “But it doesn’t seem natural.”

“You’re telling me. Don’t slow down.”

The snow was thickening. The tops of the lighthouses loomed dimly over the peaks of the surrounding buildings, their honey bands now totally black.

“I don’t think we’re going to make it,” said the young woman with the blond hair, who now walked alongside Saskia. “My name is Anna, by the way.”

“I’m Saskia. What do you mean we’re not going to make it?”

“The watch towers are blind now. The Watcher does not want to gaze upon any Dark Seeds. That means that the BVBs will be spreading freely.”

Snowflakes twinkled prettily on the ends of Anna’s long dark eyelashes. She brushed them clear with a black velvet glove.

“I already have two BVBs on my left arm,” Anna said matter-of-factly. “Still, I was lucky. My father died of asphyxiation when BVBs formed around his lungs.”

“How much longer, dear?” Miss Rose asked. “I’m getting tired.”

“Another five minutes should decide it,” Anna said. “Would you like me to take a turn helping your elderly friend, Saskia?”

“I’ll be all right,” Saskia said. “What’s this?”

Someone in a yellow-and-black striped tabard was jogging along past the line of pedestrians. He seemed to be counting as he went along.

“Not good,” Anna said, “there must be a blockage ahead. Maybe another Dark Plant.”

The runner jogged past them, Saskia heard him gasping a total, counting up in fives “four hundred and seventy, four seventy-five, four eighty…” and then he was past. She turned and saw him come to a halt just a few places down the line behind them. He held up his hands to bring a halt to the line of people just behind Saskia. Saskia marched on, turning all the while to see the people back there who stood to calm attention, pale faces watching Saskia and the rest walking on. Two children back there were separated from their father. They stood just there, twin girls in woolen hats with pink bobbles, white mittens on a string emerging from their pink-striped coats.

“What are they all waiting there for?” asked Saskia.

“There must be a blockage ahead,” said Anna. “Other people converging on our escape path. There will not be room for all of us to get through before the Watcher sterilizes this area.”

“Sterilizes…?” The word was an icicle plunged into her heart. Saskia knew, with cold certainty what Anna meant.

“Do you mean they’re just standing there waiting to die?”

“Of course,” Anna said. “It is the logical thing to do.”

There was a disapproving murmur from behind. A man was walking quickly back to the twin girls. Their father, presumably. He pushed one of them forward, sent her running to join Saskia’s line. He picked up her sister, cradled her in his arms as he watched the other child go. Still the crowd complained.

“What’s the matter?” Saskia asked.

“He should not send on the child,” Anna said. “She will be slower, more likely to panic.”

“But it’s his daughter!”

“There are others here, too.”

“Everyone acting completely selflessly,” Saskia murmured. “That’s what Judy said.”

“Don’t look down,” said Anna. Of course, Saskia looked down.

Three black cubes lay on the snow near her feet, frozen in position by her gaze. Still the snowflakes fell. The man behind her tapped her on the shoulder.

“You saw them first. Pick them up. Don’t let them escape.”

“What?” Saskia said incredulously. “No way. Why should I?”

She tore her gaze away from the Dark Seeds.

The man who had spoken to her made a tutting sound.

“Then I shall do it,” he said, and he bent down and scooped up the seeds. Saskia watched him walking back along the line, cradling them in his hands, gazing at them with rapt concentration. Flickering black tendrils emerged from his palm, fascinating black tendrils…And then she realized what he had done.

“No!” she called. “That should have been me!”

“Too late,” Anna said, a strained smile on her face. “Maybe next time.”

“No, but he’s heading back to be sterilized with the rest! I didn’t realize.”

“I know,” said Anna kindly. “You are obviously not from hereabouts.”

“Yes, but, I mean…”

“Just keep walking.”

Up ahead, Constantine was a fuzzy grey blur, his skin’s fractality increasing all the time. Judy walked at his side, seemingly unmoved by the scene unfolding around her, marching along the street, part of the stream of people moving in a river of snow. Individuals were peeling away from the crowd as they spotted the Dark Seeds flickering throughout the containment area. They picked them up and headed back the way they had come, towards the sterilization zone.

“Why are they going back?” Saskia heard Edward ask Maurice, and she blinked back a tear.

“Because,” Maurice said. “Because they have been programmed by the Watcher to be selfless individuals who do everything for the common good.” His voice was shrill with evangelical fervor. “This is why we are wearing our active suits. This is why we must resist!”

“But—” Saskia began, and then something else hit her.

“The old people,” she whispered. “They are choosing all the old people.”

It was true. It wasn’t exclusively the elderly, but there was a preponderance of grey hair, of thin limbs and careful steps amongst those now shuffling in the opposite direction to the line. Suddenly Saskia understood the enigmatic words of the woman closing the shutters outside the I-train station.
Count yourself lucky,
she had said. Count yourself lucky to have an old person with you. Saskia gulped, and warm tears ran cold trails down her cheeks.

“They’re not all old,” Maurice said bitterly. “Look at that one!” He pointed at a man in a long checked coat and a mink hat who walked palely down the road, his hands clasped tight together, his face a battleground between calm acceptance and absolute terror. He was young, barely in his twenties, his beard too thin, barely covering his chin. His eyes darted towards Saskia’s, dark brown eyes miserable with fear, gazing at her in an unspoken plea for help.

“No,” Saskia said, letting go of Miss Rose and moving in front of him, blocking his path. “No, drop it! One seed is going to make no difference at all!”

The man licked his lips. “Let me past, please,” he said in tones of utter misery. “I have to do this.”

Saskia looked back at the waiting crowd of people in the square. Dark lines wavered over them and around them, Dark Plants erupting from their quantum world.

“Let him go, Saskia,” Anna said kindly. “You are now endangering us all, and it’s what he wants to do.”

“He’s not fighting me very hard,” Saskia said, and those miserable brown eyes held hers. And then someone pushed her gently aside. Two red gloves reached out and clasped the hands of the young man.

“Miss Rose,” Saskia said. “What are you doing?”

“What I came here to do. Something important. Give it to me, dear.”

The man released his hold on the seed and Miss Rose clasped it tightly. Painfully she turned around and began to shuffle back down the road towards the square.

“But Miss Rose—” called Saskia.

“Good-bye, dear.”

“Come on, Saskia, you’re holding us all up.” Maurice took hold of her and gently pushed her forwards. He then tapped on the shoulder of the man whose life Miss Rose had just saved.

“Come on, get moving,” he said. “She saved your life, so you do something about it. Fair Exchange.”

Saskia walked backwards, watching Miss Rose hobble away, hands held tightly together.

She reached out with the senses of her active suit, trying to touch Miss Rose, wanting to speak to her.

“Not a good idea,” said a voice from behind her. Judy had seen what had happened and come back. There was something like sympathy on her pale face. “Not a good idea to use your suit’s senses. Not with all of these Dark Seeds about. We don’t want to observe them any more than necessary.”

Saskia was crying properly now. Her face was cold with tears. Her active suit blew warm air to dry them.

“That’s it?” she said. “That’s why she came all the way here? To save one stupid man?”

“He’s not stupid,” Judy said. “Just programmed that way by the Watcher.”

“She entered into a Fair Exchange! She was supposed to do something important before she died!”

“She did,” Judy said quietly. “She saved a life.”