Liberation (I Am Margaret Book 3) (29 page)

Surprisingly, Bane spoke up first.

“We
can’t
! The whole point of the nonLethals is that the soldiers are innocent dupes of the EuroGov. Are we going to turn around and say now it’s our
own
lives at stake, rather than
mere reAssignees
, it’s okay to kill people’s fathers and sons and registered partners?” His sarcasm was cutting. “It’ll destroy everything we’ve worked for!”

Jon nodded.

“Let’s at least leave something for the rest of the Underground to carry on with.”

Pope Cornelius nodded decisively.

“This is my opinion as well.”

Eduardo looked less than happy.

“But...”

“How much time would we even
gain
?” I pointed out.

“Some of us might get killed in the fighting,” said Eduardo dryly. “You can’t pretend that wouldn’t be a bonus.”

“No,” said Pope Cornelius firmly. “We will not, at the last, through mere fear, destroy everything we’ve worked for. Let them come. We will hold to our principles. We do not fear them. At any rate, we will not stoop to their level.”

Eduardo gave a slight sigh and shrugged.

“Bane’s fear’s destroyed quite enough already,” muttered someone.

“And we’ll have none of that!” snapped Pope Cornelius.

But Bane was staring at the TV screen again.

“A spark...” he murmured. His face was still white and guilt-ravaged.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.” He kissed me, tenderly. “I’m... going for a walk.”

“Oh... okay. I’ll... I’ll be in our room, writing.”

“I know.”

He squeezed Jon’s hand and slipped out. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to get away from everyone.

“How do we
know
he didn’t turn us in?” demanded the person who’d made the last nasty comment.

“He wouldn’t!” I snapped fiercely.

“How do you know? He’s not a Believer. What’s he got to cling to?”

“He... he...” I floundered for a moment, then a line from our wedding came into my head. “He believes in me,” I said defiantly. “He wouldn’t betray
me
.”

“People have betrayed God himself on that gurney, I think he would. Perhaps they promised to spare
you
.”

“How stupid do you think he is? EuroGov, spare
me
? Anyway, if he’d known they were coming, he’d have snuck off with me last night, wouldn’t he? He was more surprised than anyone.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said the man grumpily. “It
could
have been an accident, I suppose.”

“Self-evidently an accident,” broke in Eduardo impatiently. “Now why doesn’t everyone go and do as the Holy Father ordered? Just to recap...” He listed people to stay and people to go and people to organise various things. He’d just finished when his wristCell bleeped and he raised it to listen – probably an update from a wall guard.

Everyone began to shuffle towards the door – an oath from Eduardo stopped them. He snatched up the TV remote, groping for the mute button. I focused on the screen. Someone had chucked a rope from the battlements – a small lonely figure stood outside the walls, in the middle of the ramp, shouting at the soldiers – and the press. My heart clenched, even before Eduardo found the button and a familiar voice came to my ears.

“...can have
me
, I suppose, I’ve actually
done
something, haven’t I? I killed that man – and I’d do it again if I had to. But leave all them alone!” Bane pointed back towards the Citadel behind him, walking slowly down the ramp towards the tank as he spoke. “None of them have done anything! They’re innocent! How can you possibly justify what you plan for them? How can anyone in the EuroBloc stomach it? How can you sleep at night, all of you?”

“
Bane
...” Everything had gone numb. My mind floundered. One thought managed to crawl through the ice –
he’d found a way to assuage that unbearable guilt
...

“
Bane
!”

I slammed through the door and ran. Other people followed but I didn’t stop. Reaching the battlements, I raced to where a wall guard was twisting the rope in his hands, clearly wondering whether to reel it in.

“Leave it!” I glanced at the knot and grabbed the rope. Fighting with my skirt, I wrapped the rope around my leg, placing one foot on the other where the rope lay across it – for a brake – and hopped off the crenellation.

“I really don’t think you should...” wavered the guard, but I was already sliding down.

Bane had moved on to the subject of the illegal annexation of Malta. He often claimed not to be eloquent, and he wasn’t much for writing. But he’d a good memory, and he expressed himself in simple, passionate language, peppered with phrases and sentences lifted almost word for word from my blog. If I wasn’t out of my mind with fear for him, I’d have stopped to listen.

I hit the dusty paving slabs too fast and my ankle twisted painfully under me –
stupid, Margo!
– I hurried after him more slowly than I’d intended. He’d got a long way down the ramp now, clearly intent on giving himself up. Did he think the EuroGov would actually
listen
?

No... he just thought there was nothing left to lose...

“
Bane
...” The cry broke from me as I stumbled along.

He spun around, breaking off in mid-sentence.

“Get back over that wall!” He looked as terrified as I felt.

“Only if you come with me!”

Bane looked over my shoulder. Sounded like someone was opening the gate a crack.

“Get her inside!”

Running footsteps behind me...

“What has Malta done to you?” Bane picked up his thread again. “What have any of these people
done
to...”

He staggered back a step and crumpled like a dropped doll.

“Bane!” His head smacked into the hard ground. Silent, so nonLethal, but no way to count the shots...

My ankle was holding my weight better. I tried to break into a run just as someone grabbed me from behind.

“Margo, it’s no good...” Kyle.

I struggled wildly, twisting and trying to break his grip.

“Bane...
Bane
...”

“He’s too close to them! You can’t go down there!”

“Bane...” I screamed, deaf to his words. Soldiers were running towards that crumpled form. “
Bane
...” I tried to stamp on my brother’s toes – his grip loosened...

“
Margo!
”

I slipped free, he grabbed for me... More running footsteps behind and a wild
tap-tap
...

“Kyle, get clear...” Jon’s voice. Kyle let me go suddenly. I twisted to evade any attempt at recapture and caught a glimpse of Jon, standing still, head cocked, a nonLee in his hand, then I was sprinting towards Bane...
Bane
...

Something smacked me in the back and a black tunnel dropped over me. My cheek hit the ground and my last sight was of the soldiers dragging Bane away.

***+***

26

FOUR O’CLOCK

Wooden ceiling beams high above. A horrible sick feeling in my belly and my head ached, but the beams made me feel happy. This was my new room. Bane’s and my new room. We were married. So why the sense of utter foreboding?

“Margo?” Kyle sat by the bed, timidly proffering a bowl. “Do you... need this?”

I hadn’t, but memory crashed in on me –
they had Bane
– I snatched it from him.

By the time the retching stopped my head was splitting. I sank back against the pillows.

“They took Bane... Why did you stop me?”

“Oh, so it would help if they had you too?” Kyle put the bowl safely on the floor “How, exactly?”

“I might’ve been able to save him...”

“You’d have been caught. Or shot. Probably not with a nonLethal. Most wanted person in the world, remember?”

I lay back and stared at the ceiling. They had Bane. Rescue was impossible. Everything was drowned in grey mist.

“Margo?
Margo
?” Kyle was getting upset that I was ignoring him. “Without meaning to offer Eduardo-style comfort, is there any point going catatonic about this? I think we’re all going to be in the next world soon enough. You, me, Bane. All of us.”

I said nothing. Bane had been snatched away again, and it was unbearable.

“Margo? Aren’t you going to... leap out of bed and start blogging? Try and help him?”

The happy memories were an ache in my chest as I stared at the ceiling again.

“Eduardo’s right. I can’t write Bane out of this one, can I?”

“You can try!”

Listlessly, I looked at my watch. Took me a moment to decipher the face. Eleven. I must’ve slept for a good while after the nonLee wore off. Five long hours until four o’clock.

“Where’s Jon?”

“Hiding. He’s afraid you’ll be mad at him.”

“I’m mad at both of you,” I said dully.

Kyle eyed me unhappily.

“Right now, I kind of wish you were. Look, I’m going to get you a hot drink. Something with sugar in...”

He left. I stared at my watch some more. Four o’clock an eternity away. And what would happen then? Something that even now, I could hardly bear to contemplate. Would Bane even still be alive? The EuroGov weren’t likely to let us see each other. Not unless it was to make one of us watch the other die...

Clawing my way free of the sheets, I dived for the bowl, threw up yet again. Or tried to. Nothing left in my stomach.

I knelt on the floor for a while, lost in a daze of misery. Finally relocated Kyle’s handkerchief and wiped my face again. Turned to look at the laptop, closed and silent on the desk. Kyle knew me too well.

But when I sat down and pressed the
on
button, the screen was fuzzy and blurred and it didn’t seem to be starting up right. I switched it off hastily. It would have to die
now
!

I picked up the phone – it crackled wildly in my ear. No use... Why was everything
broken
?

Jon was out in the corridor, leaning against a wall, looking lost in his own personal cloud of misery. His head turned.

“Margo?” He sounded wary.

“My computer’s broken. D’you think Eduardo has a spare?”

Jon thought about this for a moment. Or perhaps he was wondering if he was forgiven for shooting me in the back.

“It’s not broken,” he said at last.

“It
is
, you come and listen to the sounds it’s making.”

“It’s not. Eduardo’s switched on the Anti-Aircraft Lattice.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be interfering with it, surely? They had it running over the Vatican all the time.”

“Yes, but the system was
designed
for the Vatican. The lattice boxes are far, far too powerful for the tiny dome we need here. So they’re saturating the entire area – inside and outside – with interference. If it’s any consolation, it’s probably pissing off the EuroGov as well.”

“But it means I can’t blog!”

He smiled ruefully.

“It makes Eduardo feel better. Like he’s still doing his job.”

“It’s not going to help! The tank’s going to blow a hole in the front gate and they’ll march straight in. They’re not going to bother with the expense of paratroops. And I hardly think anyone would be too upset if they did decide on aerial bombing as the best way of disposing of us!”

Jon spread his hands.

“You’ll have to take it up with him.”

“That’s where I’m going. The phones are out too.”

“Ah. Yes.” Jon fell in behind me.

“Won’t help,” said Eduardo, in response to my demand that he switch the Lattice off. “The EuroGov have some sort of massive internet/microwave jammer out there – maybe on that ship. Probably strong enough to block the whole state’s communications – I expect they’re trying to control what people hear about the annexation. Switch off our A.A.L. and we’ll be able to pick up old terrestrial TV signals from Africa – but not much else.”

“Bugger!” I aimed a kick at his waste bin. It had been thoroughly cleaned since my last encounter with it.

“Calm down, Margaret. There really is nothing you can do.”

“And that makes
you
feel better?”

He grimaced slightly.

“No. Point taken.”

I trudged out of the room, feeling as though the Citadel had collapsed on top of me. Nothing I could do.
Nothing
. Bane was lost. We were all lost.

“Been to confession yet?” I said heavily.

“No.” Jon sounded every bit as glum. “Shall we go?”

We went. And with our souls all squeaky clean and ready for eternity we went to pray at a favourite side altar afterwards, where Kyle finally hunted me down, a mug of cold hot chocolate in his hand.

“There you are! Do you want this?”

“No.” I fought free of the black cloud enveloping me enough to add, “Thanks, though.”

He gave something half sigh, half groan and plunked down to sit on the kneeler. Downed the mug of hot chocolate himself, then pulled a face. Muttered, “Bad idea. Now I feel sick...” Swallowed hard and gave another sigh. Then dragged himself to his feet and went off to join the line for confession, still clutching the empty mug.

All afternoon I tried to pray, but I’d fallen through ice into dark and freezing depths. I couldn’t see through the gloom, and I could barely feel. Just the icy pain of separation and terror. Almost a relief when it was time for Mass. Except it meant the end was very close...

And then Mass was over. Even the wall guards had come in for it. Ten to four. We really weren’t going to escape. Everyone had pulled the rows of chairs askew, into little groups. Sister Krayj sat nearby, her face coldly expressionless. Pope Cornelius still knelt at the High Altar, the final consecrated Host in the whole Citadel cupped in his hands. We’d have our Lord’s presence for just as long as possible, but as soon as they broke in he’d consume it, to avoid desecration...

“Told you we should’ve gone to Africa,” Foxie joked to his brother. Half-heartedly.

“Funny, seem to recall you were the one begging to come,” returned Fox, with determined lightness. They were both resplendent in their Swiss Guard uniforms.

On the other side of the cathedral someone began to cry in little, frightened hiccoughs. Several people converged in comfort.

Five to four. I shifted my chair slightly closer to Jon and he slipped his arm around me. Kyle sat on my other side, holding my hand tightly.

“The really annoying thing is,” Foxie was saying, “Alligator will have snaffled the best harp for himself.”

“Yeah,” agreed Fox, “and knowing Al, he’ll have already modified it so it
looks
like a harp, but actually contains a complete polyphonic keyboard and full eavesdropping capabilities. I can just see it.”

“Really, you two!” sniffed a priest who was just then looking rather grumpier than usual. “Harps! Next you’ll say you’re expecting white fluffy clouds and a nice old guy with a long white beard.”

“Calm down, Father,” said Foxie consolingly, “Harps and clouds are just metaphors, we get that. We’re just trying to be cheerful about it.”

“Nothing
un
-cheerful about the heaven part,” said Jon softly. “Just the bit that comes before.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no way to make that cheerful.” A tiny shake in Foxie’s voice.

“No, so we’d better shut up and pray,” said his brother. They bowed their dark heads and fell silent, shoulders touching.

I bowed my head and tried to pray too, clinging to Jon’s and Kyle’s hands, but my mind was turning into a thrumming blank. Every muscle was screwing itself up in useless anticipation...

Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong.

Four o’clock.

***+***