Tamaruq (12 page)

‘Thank you. For telling me. I needed to hear it.’

Dien laughs.

‘You’re surprising, I’ll give you that. I never expected to tolerate you.’

‘You’re too kind.’

The stiffness in Adelaide’s spine is a deep ache, as though she and Dien have been here for a long time, for longer than logic dictates; for years, decades, they have been in this room, having this conversation.

‘Dien. We will expose this, I promise you. But we’ll do it together. It’s our best chance of reconciliation between west and City. I’ve trusted you. I’ve done what you’ve asked. You have to trust me now.’

‘Looks like I don’t have much choice.’

‘No. You don’t.’

She hears Dien sigh, a soft expulsion of breath. The sound brings an unnerving sense of premonition, and she gets to her feet, aware of being drunker than she expected, suddenly craving light.

Her world has changed, and changed again. The gulf of what she and Dien know and what the rest of the city do not. She feels it in everything she undertakes, from a purchase of coral tea from the vendor on Wintervine waterway, to her latest rallying speech to another packed, sweaty bar where the press of crowds is at once exhilarating and terrifying. With the burden of their shared knowledge, she and Dien have become conspirators. However dark the secret, there is a thrill in this collusion, a sense of pitting themselves against the world that reminds her of the early days with Vikram. The comparison is odd and confusing. Dien and Vikram might be from the same place, even share some philosophies, but in all other ways they are aeons apart. A small, insidious whisper at the back of her mind starts and will not be ceased: was it even Vikram she fell in love with? Or only the idea of him, born from the romance of unison, of going to war together?

The other activists treat her now with a wary acceptance. They have invited a shark into their home, one who professes itself friendly but cannot be trusted not to revert to form.

Her speeches are printed on flyers and handed out on the waterways. To the west, she has another name. The Silverfish. One day she sees a new graffiti on the wall of a tower, a leaping fish in metallic paint, and her heart jumps with something like pride.

They agree how they will play it. Dien will act as the Silverfish while Adelaide listens in from the next room. The level of traction Dien can gain with Linus will decide whether Adelaide needs to step in. She is reluctant to show her face; to reveal herself will compromise their position.

Dien has selected a safehouse close to the border with easy escape routes in all directions, each assigned a guard.

Linus, as Adelaide predicted, brings his people to the tower but leaves them outside.

Dien is pacing. She looks nervous. It occurs to Adelaide that Dien would not have let this show in front of her, before.

‘You can deal with him,’ says Adelaide. ‘He’s only my brother.’

Dien gives her a look and mutters, ‘Exactly.’

Adelaide takes up her assigned place in the next room. Minutes later she hears a rap at the door and the sound of footsteps entering. For a few excruciating seconds there is silence. Adelaide imagines the two evaluating one another. She hopes desperately that her assessment of Linus is correct. If this goes wrong, it is all on her.

‘The Silverfish, I believe?’

Even prepared, the sound of her brother’s voice comes as a shock. The last time she saw Linus, she was begging him not to leave her alone with their father’s bodyguard, while he locked her into the penthouse. The memory stiffens her resolution. Linus is going to help them today. She’ll make sure of it.

‘That’s me.’

Dien sounds calm, assured. Good. She’s got a grip on herself.

‘You asked me to come here, and here I am. Alone, as requested.’

‘You brought your people to the tower.’

‘If you know anything about me, you should know I’m not stupid.’

‘That’s why I contacted you, and not anyone else.’

‘Should I be flattered?’

Adelaide can’t suppress a smile. So very Linus.

‘Not really,’ says Dien. ‘It’s more a case of limited options.’

She hears the scrape of a chair being drawn up. She can imagine him sitting there, one leg neatly crossed over the other, brain ticking away behind a face that can never quite escape the imperious.

‘There’s something we know about,’ says Dien. ‘Something I think you know about too. Something that would be… very unfortunate, if it came out.’

‘Get to your point.’

‘Before I do, I’d better tell you that I’m not the only one who knows about this information. If you do anything – if anything happens to me, after this meeting – I’ve issued instructions for it to be released at once. And trust me, this is going to be of great interest to the public – your side and mine.’

Linus sighs.

‘Of course.’

Now Adelaide wishes she could see his face. He must be running through the possibilities. Clearly it is some kind of scandal. Has Whitefly occurred to him? Is he even now mounting his defence?

‘Operation Whitefly,’ says Dien.

A beat. Another.

‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ says Linus.

But there is a rigidity in his tone. She can hear it, even if Dien can’t.

‘We both know that’s a lie, Linus Rechnov. You know a hell of a lot about Operation Whitefly.’

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to explain yourself.’

‘We’ve got papers,’ says Dien. ‘Documentation. And, wow, it has some interesting things to say. There’s a lot about boats. Boats coming to this city, but never leaving it. People going missing, because they’ve been shot to pieces by skadi. And it’s been going on for years. A whole conspiracy set up to keep us believing there’s no one else out there. Names are mentioned, Linus Rechnov.’

Linus laughs. ‘It sounds like a spectacular theory.’

Dien ignores him.

‘Let me see, who is mentioned? Oh yes. Your grandfather. The Architect, Leonid Rechnov. He features rather prominently. Then there’s your father, Feodor Rechnov. Such a beloved politician, isn’t he…’

‘You don’t have these papers here, I suppose?’

‘If you know anything about me, you should know I’m not stupid.’

Linus does not rise to the barb.

‘Again, how convenient.’

‘Even if they were a forgery – which we both know they’re not, however long you sit there denying it – you’re a politician, aren’t you, Linus? Don’t you know that the story – the rumour – is always enough? To destroy you?’

Don’t get carried away, thinks Adelaide. You’ve got to step carefully. He’s clever, cleverer than you think.

‘Don’t tell me you don’t have enemies,’ Dien continues. ‘I don’t believe everyone your side of the city worships the Rechnovs. There must be plenty of folk who’d like to take up the mantle of “founding family”—’

Linus cuts in smoothly. ‘I’m very sorry, but if this story is all you have—’

‘Get in here! He’s going to call for backup!’

That wasn’t their agreed signal. Adelaide scrambles to her feet, propelled by the urgency in Dien’s voice.

The shock on Linus’s face when she enters the room is unmistakable. He is standing, clearly about to make some kind of move, and with a jolt of apprehension, Adelaide remembers the invisible tracker placed on Vikram. Dien’s eyes meet Adelaide’s across the room.

‘Sorry. I couldn’t risk him doing a runner.’

‘It’s all right. You didn’t have a choice.’

Adelaide turns her attention to Linus. He’s aged. Even in these few months, it’s noticeable. There’s grey at his temples, and the lines around his mouth and eyes have deepened. Worry lines, she thinks. She wonders if he’s thinking the same of her – but then, to him she’s a dead woman.

‘Hello, brother dear.’

Linus sinks heavily into his chair. His mouth works, seeking words, before he gives up and settles on surveillance, taking in her hair, her face, her attire, a dazed expression continuing to occupy his features.

‘Adelaide,’ he says at last. And then, ‘The Silverfish.’

‘Yes.’

She waits.

‘I thought you were dead.’

Adelaide waves.

‘Surprise.’

Linus’s brow contracts.

‘I knew something didn’t add up. She—’ He nods towards Dien. ‘She wasn’t right.’

‘Hey, watch your mouth,’ Dien interjects.

‘Ignore him,’ Adelaide says softly. ‘He’s trying to remind you I’m from the City.’

‘Already? He doesn’t mess around, does he?’

‘No.’

She watches Linus watching her, noticing the dynamic between her and Dien, trying to work out how he can play it.

‘That’s why we need him,’ she says.

Linus rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes.

‘Fucking hell, it really is you. How did you get out of that tower?’

‘After you authorized the skadi to blow it up with me inside, you mean?’

‘Is that what I’m here for?’

‘It doesn’t matter how I got out. We’re here to talk about Whitefly. Now promise me, Linus – and remember
I know you
– promise me you haven’t set us up.’

He looks at her, the incredulity still there.

‘No. I came because I was interested. I gave her – you – my word.’

‘Good.’

‘We can trust him?’ asks Dien.

‘For now.’

‘What the hell are you doing here, this side of the border? We – I thought you were dead!’

‘That doesn’t matter. And don’t tell me anyone grieved for me either, because I won’t believe you. Tell us about Whitefly.’

Linus seems to crumple.

‘How did you find out about Whitefly?’

‘Axel left me some interesting material.’

‘Axel was delusional.’

‘Yes. But what he found was real.’

Linus doesn’t answer.

‘It’s true, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

The word seems to evacuate him, leaving behind a husk. For a moment Adelaide glimpses the man behind the politician: tired, no, exhausted, a man weary of the world and his role within it.

‘How long have you known?’ she asks.

‘Not as long as you seem to think. Dmitri knows, of course – doesn’t bother him. We could be living on the moon for all he cares, as long as it doesn’t affect his precious trading. Our dear father didn’t see fit to induct me into its mysteries until I started pledging support for the west.’ Linus falls into reflection. ‘That changed everything.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

He laughs at that, a brief spark through the weariness. ‘Do you really need to ask? Tell you, the most capricious person in the City? I’d be insane.’

‘I had a right to know. Me and Axel. We both did.’

‘Believe me, you were better off not knowing,’ he says.

‘He’s right about that,’ Dien remarks. ‘We all were. Because now we have to do something about it.’

Linus’s gaze slides to Dien.

‘And what exactly do you propose we do about it? If this comes out I might as well write my own execution order.’

‘That’s why we’re giving you an ultimatum. The Silverfish here, and me.’ Dien nods to Adelaide. ‘Tell him. You’re right, he listens to you, fuck knows why.’

‘We do have evidence,’ she says. ‘And Dien will use it, unless you get the distress signal back out.’

‘Stars above, you are actually insane. How the hell am I supposed to do that?’

‘You’re the only one who can. The Facility, am I right? That’s where Operation Whitefly runs from. Right above my old penthouse. Ironic, really. Some might even say, sadistic.’

‘You were the only person who would never have noticed,’ says Linus.

‘I’ve noticed now. Linus, listen to me. I know you’re not used to this, but I’m serious. Do you remember what you said to me? When you were trying to get me to help Vikram, all that time ago? You said people needed hope. You said there might be life outside the city. It was you who authorized the expedition boat, wasn’t it? Because you knew about this. You were hoping that boat would get out. If an expedition returns, it lets you off the hook. Whitefly could be quietly buried without anyone ever having to know about it. I’m right, aren’t I?’

Something tremors in Linus’s face when she says the words
expedition boat
. She has hit a nerve. Now’s the time to push her advantage.

‘I heard you on the o’dio,’ she says gently.

‘What if I did authorize it?’ he mutters. ‘Why would I risk everything doing this?’

‘You can’t live with this, Linus. It’s eating away at you. I get it. Me and Dien, we didn’t want to find this out either. I know I used to laugh at you when you said there might be people out there. But I want to know now. I have to know. One way or another, this is coming out.’

Linus shakes his head.

‘I never thought I’d see the day.’

‘What?’

‘You preaching right and wrong at me.’

She smiles serenely.

‘That day has come.’

‘The expedition boat might return,’ he says hopefully. ‘I know it got out.’

‘Have you heard anything?’

‘No. But that doesn’t mean…’ He trails off, and for a moment she has the impression his mind is working, he’s holding something back. Then he slumps in his chair, defeated. ‘No, I haven’t heard anything.’

‘All right.’ Dien jumps to her feet. ‘We need to know when you’re going to do this. How fast can you move?’

Linus looks at her with bemusement. ‘It’s been a secret for fifty years. What’s the rush?’

‘Why wait?’ Dien counters.

‘I just don’t understand what you’re hoping to achieve.’

‘It has to be broadcast on all the channels,’ says Adelaide. ‘Otherwise there’s no point. Trust me, Linus – get that signal out again, and people will soon be asking questions. And that’s all we need.’

‘Let’s say a week,’ says Dien. ‘Twenty-two hundred – that’s your time. We’ll be listening each night.’

He shrugs.

‘Have it your way. But don’t expect me to come and give you an airlift when the city descends into riots.’

‘We won’t.’

Linus turns to Adelaide.

‘What about you? You’re going to stay here like what – some kind of revolutionary?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you expect me to go back to the Domain and carry on this charade, pretending you’re dead?’

‘It’s a tiny charade in comparison to the one you’ve been enacting.’