The Abyss Beyond Dreams (72 page)

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Authors: Peter F. Hamilton

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BOOK: The Abyss Beyond Dreams
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The outright accusation made Slvasta stiffen, only partly in anger. ‘I didn’t blow up anything.’

‘Of course not, not personally, you’re not an idiot, but can we say the same thing about your colleagues, eh? What would Tovakar tell us under interrogation I wonder? Or Andricea?
How long would it take for her to crack if the Captain’s police were to bring her in? Apparently the process is a lot worse for women, especially when they’re young and good looking. I
believe the First Officer takes a personal interest.’

Now Slvasta was deeply worried. If the colonel was using plain talk, this was no simple horse-trading arrangement any more. This was something a lot more serious. ‘Actually, they’d
say the same thing. I don’t know who blew up the oil depot. Frankly, it’s the last thing I need right now.’ Which was true enough. It had taken Bethaneve two days of sifting
through the scraps of information which percolated up through the network of cells to discover who might have sabotaged the oil company, then a follow-up visit from Javier and Yannrith had
confirmed it. Three members from a cell on level twenty-eight had grown frustrated by the lack of action and decided to take things into their own hands, striking a definitive blow for the
movement, hurting the establishment. Yannrith had to pull Javier off one of them; the man was now in hospital with broken bones and heavy blood loss. Such a show of capability and determination
could have given the game away. If the Captain’s police had caught them, the interrogation would have lasted until they were either dead or confessed everything. As it was, Trevene’s
interest in the cells and suspected radicals had risen to dangerous levels. His agents were pressing informants hard. Three more cell members had disappeared in the last twenty-four hours.
Bethaneve was busy warning their contacts.

‘The deal was: you get Langley and in return peace is restored to our streets,’ Gelasis said. ‘No more acts of sabotage, no more Shanty mobs looting and wrecking, no more union
bullying of hard-pressed businesses. Life becomes civilized once more, with you acting as a conduit for legitimate concerns and complaints.’

‘That is my wish, too,’ Slvasta shot back. ‘Come on, I’ve invested everything in getting this seat. I’m not going to blow it now.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. From now on if your lowlife supporters have problems with the world, they take those problems to you. Even with drosilk sales bringing fresh cash in, the
economy needs a time of stability to get back to what it was before Democratic Unity’s paranoid campaign against mods. You do know the capital is the only place that particular idiocy took
hold? Rather like your voter base.’

‘People will realize—’

‘No, Slvasta. They will not realize. Because nobody is going to stir up that prejudice any more. I’m sorry about your arm. Really, I am. But you need to get over it. Your private
obsession is damaging Bienvenido. Is that what you want?’

‘We have to eliminate our dependency on—’

‘You haven’t been sworn in to the National Council yet. Think carefully what you say, and remember the oath you will be taking before the Captain. Specifically, the part about
protecting this world from
all
forms of harm.’

Slvasta glared at the colonel, trying to control his temper. He had the distinct feeling Gelasis was deliberately baiting him. This was another test to see if
they
were going to allow
him his seat. Democratic votes were an irrelevance to those who held the true strings of power. ‘I’m going to bring it before the National Council.’

Gelasis nodded in satisfaction. ‘You do that. And at the same time you keep your hotheads quiet. That’s also your obligation, understand?’

‘Nobody is going to be blowing anything up on my watch.’
And, Uracus, it feels good looking you in the eye and being just as deceitful as you.

‘Glad to hear it. You can have a great life, Slvasta; the rewards for people in your position are enormous. I wouldn’t want you to sell yourself short.’

‘I won’t.’

‘So what’s going to happen about your engagement? Clever electioneering move that, by the way. She looked jolly pretty on your arm out there on the campaign trail. Won quite a few
bachelor votes for you, I imagine.’

The change caught Slvasta by surprise. ‘We said we would wait until after the election before setting a date.’

‘Indeed. Then consider this: there is a whole city of opportunity opening up to you now. You should enjoy yourself for a while before making a smart choice.’ The colonel leaned
forwards slightly, studying Slvasta closely. ‘You need a girl who will enhance your new status. After all, you do know what your little radical sweetheart did before she met you, don’t
you?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘It’s different for her class, of course; we all know that, not like Lanicia. People can judge harshly.’

‘I don’t understand. Bethaneve is a Tax Office clerk.’

‘Of course she is. Well, I’d offer you lunch, but I have a rather pressing engagement. Dull but necessary; I’m sure you remember what responsibility is like. If not,
you’re going to get a swift hard reminder when you take your seat. Oh, and I forgot to say: congratulations.’

*

‘We’ve underestimated them,’ Slvasta said. ‘Uracus, did we ever.’ After leaving the Westergate Club he’d collected Bethaneve from the hall
of records on Wahren Street, and the two of them went directly to the house in Tarleton Gardens, where Javier and Coulan were still living.

‘Who?’ Javier asked.

‘The Captain, the First Officer. The establishment. Especially Trevene. Uracus!’ He started to pace up and down the empty lounge. ‘They know everything!’

‘What do they know?’ Coulan asked.

‘He told me: Gelasis. He sat there smirking while he told me. It’s a warning. They’ve just been laughing at us. They know it all.’

‘What?’ Bethaneve asked. ‘Focus, please.’

Slvasta gave her a broken look. ‘They know about you. I’m so sorry.’

‘What do they know about me?’

‘That you used to do narnik. How do they find these things?’

‘The same way we know Trevene’s nephew has gambling debts. That the Captain’s second daughter has just had a baby and she’s not sixteen yet. That Gelasis and Trevene are
both members of the Travington Society. That the First Officer is a psycho nutcase. We hear whispers on the street and ask questions.’

‘They know Andricea is helping us, and Tovakar, too; so they’ll know about Yannrith.’

‘They know the name of every party member and union member. They’ll know which of them are activists. Their list of names and all the details will fill a whole floor of
Trevene’s offices with filing cabinets. You know the one: Fifty-Eight Grosvner Place, his secret headquarters, which extends six levels below ground, and occupies the buildings on both
sides.’ She went over to him and held his arm to stop him walking. ‘We know them, and they
think
they know us. They
think
we are idealists trying to bring justice to
the poor through the ballot box and a bit of petty agitation. They know nothing else. They don’t know how extensive our cells really are. They don’t know about our weapons. They
certainly do not know our plans. They do not know they’re about to die and we are going to sweep their whole rotten regime away.’

Slvasta looked at her, then at the other two. Seeing their calm, concerned faces, he took a long breath and nodded. ‘Okay. Sorry. He was just so crudding confident.’

‘He doesn’t know anything else,’ Coulan said. ‘People always fold for him. Nobody’s ever mounted a serious challenge to the palace since the Jasmine Avenue
rebellion, and that was hardly threatening, not really. All they’re used to are small groups of radicals and thugs up from the Shanties who don’t have a clue what they’re doing.
The whole concept of our organization is beyond his understanding.’

‘The explosion is a problem, though,’ Javier said. ‘Our people are getting very impatient. I’m not sure we can keep a lid on things for much longer. They want
action.’

‘We agreed to a month,’ Coulan said.

‘That we did. That would suit us. But what about all our comrades? They don’t know the plan. They don’t know how big this thing goes. All they see is an election where
Democratic Unity finally gained some seats, and
nothing
is happening. The Captain’s even put off inaugurating the National Council, which demonstrates what he thinks about democracy.
We’ve primed thousands of people, promising them drastic change, and they’re still waiting. The idiots in that level twenty-eight cell who bombed the yalseed oil company depot are going
to be the least of it if we don’t give the membership decisive action soon. And if that happens, if they move without us, without a coordinated plan, then it’s all over. The cell
network will fragment. The Captain’s police and the sheriffs will swoop. We’ll probably have to go into exile. The whole movement will be in ruins. We lose. The end.’

Everything Javier had said made perfect sense. But . . . still Slvasta hesitated. If they started this, there would never be any going back – win or lose. ‘Bethaneve? Can we bring it
forward?’

‘There’s no practical reason why not. We were waiting a month to position ourselves politically, to give you some respectability in the National Council. But seeing as how we
haven’t got a National Council actually sitting yet, that has to be a secondary consideration now.’

‘The Captain is opening the Council in three days, if nobody else sets fire to anything. Can we get phase one up and ready for that night?’

‘Yes.’

‘We need to leave at least a week between phases one and two,’ Coulan warned. ‘People have to feel the hurt from having their water supply screwed with. They need to become
political. Then, once they’re angry enough, we frighten them with phase two.’

‘And put our people on the streets,’ Javier said. He walked over to Bethaneve and Slvasta, putting his thick arms around them. Coulan joined the embrace.

‘Together we are strong,’ Bethaneve said.

‘Together we stand,’ Coulan said.

‘Together we will succeed,’ Javier said.

‘I will never turn away from you, my true friends,’ Slvasta said. He squeezed them all hard. ‘Together we have the courage we need. Now, let us liberate this world.’

3

The Hevlin’s orangery stretched along one side of the hotel’s neat little central courtyard, where fountains played and fig trees formed a tall canopy to ward off
the midday sun. The table where Kysandra sat was right next to the glass, with a gentle breeze drifting down from the open windows above. A snow-white tablecloth was laid out with shining silver
cutlery, and the cut-crystal goblets sparkled in the dappled sunlight. It was Madeline who served the fish starter – smoked macod wrapped in kall leaves, and drizzled with a lime sauce.

‘Enjoy,’ Madeline said in a very knowing tone.

‘Thank you,’ Kysandra replied levelly.

‘Would you like more wine?’

‘Not for me.’ She looked over the table at her companion.

Deavid smiled happily. ‘No, thanks.’

‘Madam.’ Madeline gave a small bow and left.

Kysandra hoped Deavid hadn’t noticed how smug Madeline had been. Every time that happened, Kysandra couldn’t help wondering if Nigel’s domination technique was slipping.
After all, I have finished up spending a lot of time on my back in the Hevlin’s bedrooms recently – just not quite the way she and Ma intended
. The thought made her grin across
the table at Deavid’s handsome face. His answering smile was worshipful. They’d met five months ago. He was twenty-two, the youngest son in a family who owned a respectably sized
carpentry business in Jaxtowe, fifty kilometres to the south. With Adeone’s prosperity rising dramatically over the last two years, he was one of many salesmen arriving in town to seek fresh
markets. He played football for the Jaxtowe team, which kept him in very good shape, and when she ran her fingers all over him his ebony skin was gorgeously smooth to the touch. Best of all, he
made her laugh. His cheery, mildly disrespectful attitude was a rarity among the young men she got to meet, who were all so desperately serious would-be businessmen or entrepreneurs. All on their
way up – or believing they were.

Deavid had convinced his father they needed to open an office in town, with himself as manager. And Kysandra suddenly found herself with a lot of reasons to be in Adeone, supervising the flow of
goods which the industry inside the farm’s compound consumed, as well as overseeing activities among the radical groups Nigel and the ANAdroids had established.

That was during the morning. Afternoons were spent with Deavid in the Hevlin’s garden suite, exploring new ways the huge four-poster bed could be used to accommodate their wanton
gymnastics.

‘This is delicious,’ he said.

‘They catch macod in the freshwater lake upstream. It’s quite the local speciality.’

He held up a fork with a perfectly cooked pink sliver impaled on the tip. ‘Can you stay tonight?’ His tongue came out slowly and licked the piece of fish off the fork.

‘I could be persuaded. I have some meetings tomorrow afternoon which I can reschedule for the morning.’

‘Do you really need an excuse?’

‘No. I’m just being practical.’

‘Of course, you wouldn’t need to be practical or have excuses if I moved out to the farm. We could spend every night together then.’

She looked at his eager expression and felt her own buoyant mood start to deflate. ‘Deavid . . .’

‘I know: your guardian doesn’t approve. Strange, considering he doesn’t seem to mind you spending as much time as you want with me in town.’

‘It’s not that.’

‘I’d really like to visit. All the wagon drivers who go out there talk about how it’s practically a town in itself.’

‘We have a few extra barns for engineering, that’s all. Nigel’s hobby is making things he hopes to sell one day, and we maintain the farm’s traction engines
ourselves.’

‘Really? They say you have hundreds of mods working on the farm. And there’s like a train of goods carts that carry stuff out there every day. Weird loads, too, crates of minerals
from all over. Barrels full of Giu knows what.’

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