Rising Tide (24 page)

He nodded, enthusiastically. I wonder if he could relate to them being imprisoned there.

“Tell me about Lewis,” I said.

“What about him?”

“What are he and his party trying to accomplish?”

Diego shrugged. “He's been leader of the minority party for a few years now. He's tried a few times to put his party on top, but Brana and her folks have been too popular. People here are scared, about our vulnerability, but they want to forget about that. To have a life. Brana's hard line gives them the sense that they can.”

“So why was Lewis there to meet us the other day?”

“I get the sense that he is trying for one last push. With the raiders and . . . what happened on Gastown.” He shrugs. “He must sense Brana's vulnerability. I just don't know if he can do anything about it.”

“Maybe he just needs a little help,” I said.

“What do you mean?” He searched my face, suddenly suspicious. I had to remind myself that this was his home. His people. And here I was trying to manipulate it for my own needs. Maybe Ben had rubbed off on me too much.

I shrugged. “Brana hasn't been a friend to us. She only reluctantly let us set up on the small island. She hates Ben. She's been awful to you.”

Diego's face was impassive.

“Maybe we appeal to Lewis instead.”

Diego started pacing. I got the feeling I was making him uncomfortable.

“Can you set up a meeting for me?”

Diego narrowed his eyes. “I'm not on the inside anymore.” He shook his head. “They don't listen to me like they used to.”

I walked up to him. Damn it, I'm ashamed of it, but I walked up to him and I put my hand on his shoulder, reaching up to him. “Please,” I said. “You must still have contacts. Can you reach out to him?”

He looked down at me, meeting my eyes. The sun was just coming up and I remember him seeming enormous. And steadfast. And I remember thinking that he was meant for another world. An older world. “I think so.”

“Then do it,” I said.

He didn't ask me why or to explain, which I was grateful for. I was tired of talking. I needed to do something. Instead I just leaned up against him and together we watched the sun rise.

Diego set up the meeting at a place called the Frothy Brew. I recalled Ben talking about it in the past. I think maybe “
raving
about it” is more accurate. He always got a little ridiculous when it came to beer.

Me, I'd prefer another whiskey or Malik's wine, but I ordered a light ale and chose a table. Lewis found me soon afterward, settling into a chair opposite me, a dark ale in hand.

“Diego said you wanted to talk.” He sipped at his beer like it was a practiced motion.

“I was hoping you could help me,” I said.

He didn't respond. Instead he took a long draught of his ale.

“There are some scientist friends of mine, former colleagues, and they're being held in a prison camp run by people out of Gastown.”

“I'm sorry,” Lewis said.

“So am I,” I said, meeting his eyes. “Which is why I want to get them out.”

Lewis steepled his hands together, drew them close to his mouth, the fingertips touching his lips. Then he said, “I don't think that's going to be possible.”

A hot, fiery anger kindled in the pit of my stomach. I capped it, but I still felt it pushing through. “I get it,” I said. “They're nothing to you, except maybe a risk. But . . . what if they could offer you something?”

Lewis flagged down a server for another drink and said, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I'm one of three people working right now on studying the virus. Imagine if there were three times as many.”

“Go on . . .”

“You know what a jigsaw puzzle is?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Imagine the picture of the Maenad virus is like a jigsaw puzzle. And like most jigsaw puzzles any of us have seen, it's missing a lot of pieces. The pieces we have give us a fraction of the picture, but there's still so many missing that we can't get the whole thing.”

“Okay.”

“The data I took from Gastown helps fill in more of the pieces. Only there are only three of us to see how they fit together. If I could get more people, if we could all work on filling in the puzzle, we could definitely make some progress.”

He pushed his empty cup away and leaned in. “Tell me exactly what you mean.”

There was my opportunity. To lay it out. To make my case. I inhaled, held it for a moment, then exhaled. “Based on the data, and some calculations I've made, I think I can make a virus-detection kit.”

He frowned. “How would that work?”

“It would be a simple blood test,” I said. “We'd need specialized equipment, of course, but once we do that, once we can identify the virus, it should be an easy thing to do it on a regular basis.”

Lewis pulled his cup back to him and curled his hands around it. “How long would it take?”

“The blood test?” I shrugged. “Maybe an hour at most?”

“And this would be reliable? How would you make sure it works?”

“We would do rigorous testing, of course. Testing on clean subjects as well as infected ones.”

“Ferals.”

“Yes. Alpha, our Feral test subject, would be ideal. But we would want to do field tests.”

“On living Ferals.”

“Yes,” I said. “Though anything along those lines would be done off of Tamoanchan, of course. Alpha is on a nearby island. We might test on the mainland as well.”

The waitress returned with another dark ale and set it down in front of Lewis. He sipped at it absentmindedly.

“As you can see,” I said, “it would eliminate the need for quarantine. At most you would need to hold people for the time it took to run the test. And that means a quicker turnaround for supply runs and, most importantly, safety. If someone did arrive infected, you could identify him almost immediately and take immediate action.”

Lewis nodded, then took a swig of his beer. “Isn't this what you already agreed to do for Brana?”

“Yes,” I said, expecting that. Ben and I had made our bed with Brana on our previous visit, but it became clear on us returning that she wouldn't support us. So I reformulated—reformed the equation. “Our agreement was that I would research along these lines. But that's not really important. Not in your world.”

“Oh no?”

“No.” I don't care anything for politics; I've never been interested in restarting civilization or analyzing the best forms in which to do so. But I know how to lead people. Anyone who works with scientists realizes that it's maybe the hardest way to lead. I know that a group of people, all with genius-level intellects, all wanting to head off in their own directions, is maybe the hardest group to corral. But that's what I've been doing. And that's what I know. So I told him.

“It doesn't matter how the test works or whom I originally talked to about it. It matters who announces it. Who brings it to the people. If we do this, and I appear with you to talk about it, people will link this to you. This could be a big win for your side.”

Lewis leaned back, his face thoughtful.

“You need an edge over Brana,” I said. “You're racing her, but you keep coming up behind. This can put you ahead.”

He tapped the rim of his cup.

“You have a choice,” I continued. “You can keep playing it safe or try for something bigger. Something grander. You want to lead your people, you don't do that with backroom deals and power plays. You get up in front of them and you spin them a vision of the future. You draw them a picture—Tamoanchan, five years from now. A paradise. A city unlike any since before the outbreak . A city free of the virus. Free from fear of the virus.”

He stared at me, his eyes slightly glassy. “And what is it that you need to make this happen?”

“More hands,” I said. “Sergei, Clay, and I can do a lot, but I need people to help with the analysis. I need people to verify and duplicate my work. And I need people to question me. We'll need to gather supplies. And we'll need to run tests. That will take time, but it will be quicker with more people.”

“And these people need to be brought here.”

“We need to be in the same place,” I said. “We work as a team.”

“And they're being held in a prison camp?” he asked, sipping at his beer.

I nodded. “I don't know how many. But if we can get them out, and back here, then we'll not only be saving them, we may be saving everyone on Tamoanchan.”

“So you need me to authorize the resources to get them.”

“Think of it as an investment. In the future.”

He shook his head. “What makes you think I'd be able to back something like that? I have to operate within the Council, and I'm telling you that I'll be voted down by Brana's party. They'll delay a vote until it's a moot point. You're an outsider—you don't know how the Council operates. It's not designed for efficiency.”

“And there's no other option? Is there any way you can put her on the defensive? Have her party have to catch up?”

His cup paused halfway to his mouth, then he put it down on the table. I recognized that look—inspiration. “There is an emergency order,” he said.

“What's that?”

He leaned forward, suddenly energized. “We're allowed to authorize measures without getting Council approval if doing so is vital to the safety and security of Tamoanchan. They'll likely fight me on that, but by the time they do, it'll be too late.” He slammed his hand down on the wooden table.

It was just about then that I sympathized with Ben. Specifically how he convinced Diego to take him to Gastown. He wanted the
Cherub
so badly that he hammered at Diego until he acquiesced. I want my people back so badly that I did the same to Lewis.

“This is an enormous risk for me,” Lewis said. “So we have to set some parameters.”

“Like what?”

“I'll need something tangible. And soon.”

I nodded “You'll get it. I've been studying Maenad since I was a child. My mother and father studied it before me, and with the data that I recovered and my friends . . . we can do this. We've been waiting for a breakthrough like this. The other steps are in place. Now we can cross the gaps.”

He chewed on this for a little while. “I'll need to assume full oversight of your research.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means that for my help and my risk, I will conduct periodic visits for progress and safety. It means that ultimately you report to me. If I do this, your project becomes my project, and I intend to make sure it comes to fruition.”

That was the hardest pill to swallow, to be honest. I'm used to running my own projects. I knew I'd need to enlist someone else, but to give up control . . . that didn't, no, that
doesn't
sit well with me. Who was Lewis, anyway? Just a politician. With an agenda. I almost said no.

But then I thought of my people, in a prison camp. Trapped, tortured, and abandoned. This could be my only shot to help them. To bring them back home.

“I can't have you interfering in my work,” I said.

“My work,” Lewis said. “If we do this, it's my work.”

For my friends
, I thought.
It isn't about me—it's about them. And all the people we might help.
“You stay out of the science,” I said.

He shrugged. “That's not really my thing. You're in charge when it comes to that. Everything else, though, goes through me.”

I leaned back. I thought about how I used to have all my people together, and a safe place to study. I thought about how long I had been in charge. Then I thought about how it all had come crashing down, so quickly. I remembered the lives that were lost in the process. I looked Lewis in the eyes. “Okay. I agree.”

Lewis nodded slowly. He drummed his fingers across the table top. “I do, too.”

Thank God
, I thought.

“Then let's get to planning,” I said.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T
hey put the
Dumah
at the western edge of the island where they've set up yet another airfield. It's smart thinking. With the risk of attack still looming, they're setting up multiple places to get ships off the ground. Multiple areas for evacuation. Multiple targets for enemy ships.

She's a strange-looking ship, I think, as we approach, now that I can see her up close in daylight. She's not like anything I've seen before. Flatter than most ships, and with that matte coating to the envelope. But she looks sleek. Not as sleek as the
Cherub
, but sleek nonetheless. She's being topped up as we approach, the hoses feeding her hydrogen to get her ballonets nice and plump.

Guards stop us before we get to the airfield proper. “We have orders to keep him out,” a grey and grizzled man says, indicating me.