The Baba Yaga (5 page)

Larsen was struggling, Walker could see, watching her friend closely as she packed away her kit.

“Well,” said Larsen. “Now I know why you weren’t keen on being scanned for infection. I don’t think it would have done any harm, for the record, but there’s no way for knowing for sure. You’re fit and healthy, and there’s no point in doing anything to change that.”

“And the...” Walker’s tongue tripped over the word. “The baby?”

“We’d have to do some tests to be sure of that.” Larsen looked at Walker sharply. “Is that something I need to arrange?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Hmm.” Larsen fiddled with the clasp on her bag. “Have you talked to Mark?”

“Yes, I’ve talked to Mark.”

“And?”

“And he’s clear this is my decision and my responsibility.”

Larsen was staring down again into her bag, apparently fascinated by what it contained. “I can arrange whatever you need,” she said in a neutral voice. “Very private. Carry on as you were. Nobody will find out.”

“Somebody will find out.”

“Perhaps, but it will be just a little mark in someone’s little book. There alongside the alcoholics and the pill-poppers. No real harm done. I can tell you that for sure.” She shot Walker a quick look, under her eyelids. A confidence for a confidence, Walker thought, and a sign that Larsen could be trusted. “Discretion is all that’s required—that and a speedy return to work. Particularly now.”

“And if I choose another option?”

Larsen looked up from the bag. “Then I’d advise you to start considering how your skills might be transferable to the private sector.”

“Nothing else? You don’t you want to tell me it would be a terrible, dreadful, life-destroying mistake?”

Larsen fiddled with the clasp on her bag. Open andshut. Open and shut. “Do you want me to tell you that?”

“I want you to tell me what you think.”

“Do you need to hear that? You’re not a fool, Delia. You surely know already what the consequences will be. They won’t let you stay. Even under ordinary circumstances, this would probably mean the end of your career. As for now...”

She didn’t need to go further. Carnage on Braun’s World. Andrei gone. Adelaide Grant on the warpath and controlling the narrative. “I know,” Walker said. “I know.”

“May I ask where this sudden desire for motherhood has sprung from?”

“I don’t know. Circumstance. Age. I’m as surprised as you are. But there it is.”

“Hmm.” Larsen closed her bag, decisively. “Mark may be a bloody idiot, but he’s right about one thing. Ultimately, it’s your decision.” She held up her hands, as if each one was a weight upon a scale. “Two alternatives. Utterly incompatible. I know my choice—but I’m not you.” She lowered her left hand. “As I say, though—it might be a good idea to start looking for other sources of income.” She nodded at Walker’s belly. “Because soon everybody will be finding out.”

W
HICH HAPPENED SOONER
than Walker had anticipated. Late morning, she slipped out for some air, taking a long walk along the central waterway where other officials—junior and with less to trouble them—were gathering to enjoy the sunshine and lunch. It was a scene she had observed many times, and had, in the past, enjoyed watching, reminding her, as it did, that she was at the heart of things, and that all was well. Not all was well now, but being amongst the impromptu picnickers did ease her mind for a while. This great civilization—this great Expansion—that she had served so assiduously. Surely nothing could destroy it?

Comforted a little, she returned to the Bureau, but found that the doors did not respond to her retina scan. She stood back, rubbed her eye, and tried again. Still no luck, and by now the entrance to the building was blocked by two security guards whose patience, sense of humour, and state-of-the-art weaponry Walker wasn’t inclined to test. “There wasn’t a problem this morning,” she said, pulling at her lower lid and feeling rather foolish.

But there was clearly a problem now. One of the guards, after a quiet conversation with someone via the headset in his helmet, said, “Your clearance has been revoked.”

From the corner of her eye, Walker saw his colleague tighten his grip on his firearm. Only a little, but enough. She took a deep breath and stepped back. “All right,” she said. “Not your problem.”

One of them nodded his agreement. She walked down the block, conscious of them both watching her, and stood on the corner looking around. Some mistake, she assumed; some piece of paperwork she had neglected to complete, some password she had forgotten to change. She reached for her handheld to send Kinsella a message—and then she saw Latimer sitting at a table outside the café across the road and knew there had been no mistake.

He gestured to her to join him, and she slipped through the queuing traffic. He watched her impassively as she sat down. “Sorry for the scene,” he said. “The problem is... Well, I simply don’t know who can be trusted these days.”

“Is this about that bloody scan?” Walker said. “For God’s sake—”

“It’s not about the scan.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s not about
that
scan, I should say.”

Walker felt her shoulders slump. “Ah.”

“Do you see my dilemma?”

“Actually,” Walker said, “I don’t.”

“And there lies my problem.” He picked up his coffee cup and drained it. “Divided loyalties. New priorities.”

“You’re saying that having a child would stop me from doing my job?”

“I’m saying that I’m not going to take the risk. Not as things are now.” He stood up. A black flyer, sleek and unobtrusive, had pulled up. “I’ve got you a ride. Go home. Think about your future. I’ll have your personal effects sent on.”

Personal effects,
she thought, as the car rose and then sped towards to her flat. It made her sound like she was dead.

Back home, she sat for a while with her head in her hands, until her anger got the better of her. Then she put a call through to Kinsella.

“You son of a bitch,” she said, when his face came up on the screen. “You couldn’t wait, could you? What did you think? That I’d cause a scene and embarrass you in front of everyone?”

“
I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,
” Kinsella said. He glanced sideways. There must be someone in there with him. “
I’ve never had you down as the kind of person to cause a scene. Not until now—
”

“I’ve been fired, Mark!”

She realised immediately that she had made a mistake. You couldn’t feign that kind of shocked expression. He hadn’t known, and he hadn’t said a word.

There was a pause. Walker heard voices in the background; she couldn’t distinguish who was there, but she could hear the questions being asked, the sound of the rumour mill starting to grind... “I’m sorry,” she said.

“
Christ, Delia, are you okay? Do you need me to come over?
”

Walker ended the call. There was only one other person it could be and, to be fair, she had even warned her.
Soon everybody will be finding out...

“
I’m sorry, I really am,
” said Larsen. “
But what’s happened on Braun’s World—it’s changed everything.
”

“I trusted you, Kay! Not only as my doctor. As my friend!”

“
Delia, you know the score. None of us can afford to be showing divided loyalties right now. You shouldn’t have put me in that position—
”

Walker cut the line. So much for professional ethics. So much for the fucking sisterhood. She stared around the room. A call came in, from Andrei, but she directed it to messages and, when his gentle civilized voice came through asking her to pick up and speak to him, she silenced it and deleted his message unheard.

So this is what it feels like to be outside
, she thought, dazed. Twenty-five years of effort, of hard work and dedicated service, and for what? All over, in the time it took to pop out for lunch.

She lay back against the cushions and, half-consciously, half-instinctively, rested her hand against her stomach.
What do we do now?
But the little collection of cells multiplying within her didn’t have an answer either. Only demands.
Think about your future
, Latimer said. But outside of the Bureau, she didn’t know what that could be.

T
HE LITTLE SPACECRAFT
had been waiting for them in the middle of the desert. Maria hadn’t asked how Kit knew it would be there. What mattered was that it was there, ramshackle and ancient, looking like it hadn’t flown in decades, and didn’t plan to ever again. But Kit was working it on it anyway, and Kit knew what he was doing when it came to getting battered old pieces of junk airborne.

But would it matter?
Maria thought to herself.
Would we simply carry the danger off with us?
She looked at the little ship, its tiny hull and smaller cockpit, and thought of the three of them huddled in there, with nowhere to go, no way of putting space between them and any infection they might have brought with them...
What would it be like? What would happen? Would we know what was happening? Or would we all suddenly be gone?

She reached out to the little girl, fast asleep on a rug on the bare red earth, and stroked her hair. Jenny stirred slightly, and muttered, but didn’t wake up. Maria twitched the shade so that the girl was safely out of the sun, and then stood up. Picking up the water bottle, she walked over to her husband and offered it to him. He stopped and drank gratefully, then turned back at once to his work.

“Kit,” she said, softly.

“Love, I have to get on with this. We don’t have much time.”

“Kit, please. You have to tell me what’s going on.” Seeing his face, she amended that.

“You have to tell me
something
of what’s going on.” He hesitated, so she pressed on. “I know we’re in trouble,” she said. “I’m thinking more kinds of trouble than I can even guess.”

“Yes,” he said, sliding through the hatch back into the cockpit. She followed him down. Inside, it was hellishly hot and there was nowhere to go.

“I think you’re AWOL,” she said. “I think you’re running now from the military police. And I think we don’t have long before we won’t be able to get away.”

He stared down at the control panels in front of him, not answering.

“Am I right? Kit, am I right?”

“You’re right—as far as it goes.”

“Somebody’s been helping us, haven’t they?”

He shook his head. “Love, don’t ask. I can’t talk about that.”

“All right.” She sighed in frustration.

“Yes,” he said, unexpectedly. “Somebody has been helping us. They told me where to find this ship.” He held up a finger to stop her questions. “That’s all I can say. It’s not safe otherwise.”

That frightened her. “Will they continue to help? Kit! Will they keep on helping us? If we get off Braun’s World?”

“I don’t know.”

She watched as, wearily, he rubbed his eyes. She touched the back of his hand. “I guess we’ll have to cross that bridge when we reach it,” she said. “What will we do when we get away? Where are we going?”

He smiled. “You’ve got a lot of faith that I can get this bag of bolts flying.”

“If you can’t, nobody can. And it seems a lot of risk on the part of our mysterious helper to send you to a ship that won’t fly. That, or some sort of baroque plan that I can’t understand.”

He grunted.

“So where do we go? We can’t go core-wards. Where are we going?”

“Satan’s Reach,” he said, without looking at her.

“Satan’s
Reach?
Kit, we can’t go there! It’s dangerous! It’s no place for a child!”

“It’s not as bad you think. Some of the worlds are supposed to be fairly safe...”

But Expansion propaganda had its hold on both of them, and there was only one thing that Expansion citizens knew about Satan’s Reach, that part of inhabited space that remained stubbornly beyond its jurisdiction. “It’s lawless,” Maria said.

“I know!” he said, desperation in his voice. “Do you think I’d drag you both there if there was anywhere else? Maria, we’ll be lucky to get away from this damned world with our lives!”

Suddenly, the control panel fired into life. Maria took Kit’s hand. “Said you could do it.”

“Not quite sure
what
I did...”

“Don’t ask too many questions,” she said dryly. “Come on, all aboard. I’ll get Jenny.”

They were up and flying over Braun’s World within the hour. Maria watched and listened carefully: no air traffic control; no friendly messages directing ships around the planet. The occasional curt order from the military. It was if a thick black cloud was descending over the world. A shroud.

And Kit—whenever he was asked—offered codes that somehow, miracle upon miracle, let them pass whenever they were challenged...
Don’t ask
, he’d said.
I can’t talk about that...
She studied her husband’s weary, grey face.
Who is helping us, love? And why?

They saw the bombardment of Braun’s World from a great distance: pinpricks of light at first, hitting the ground, and then great flares of white, pluming upwards. For a few seconds, Maria didn’t understand, and then she turned to Kit and said, “
Everyone?
”

“Everyone,” he said. “There’ll be nothing—and nobody—left alive.”

He turned to the controls, and lay in a flight path for Satan’s Reach. And, unnoticed, a little ship peeled away from the fleet sent to wipe out whatever infection was loose on that damned world, and began to follow their trail.