The Future's Mine (11 page)

Noah’s face stretched into a grim smile, pleased that one of his students had finally started to follow the thread. ‘Go on,’ he urged.

‘They couldn’t have done. How? Why? It’s not even possible. It’s completely impossible. Oh God, all those people. Drowned. Dead. I don’t … I can’t believe this, no …’

‘Then explain to me how she knew it was coming?’ said Noah.

Matthias stood up abruptly and ran for the door, shoving other customers out of the way, leaving a trail of drunks sprawling on the floor.

I screeched my chair back and ran after him, Noah close behind.

Matthias was sprinting for the shoreline. Where the hell was he running to? I suddenly realised why he was running when he keeled over at the edge of the water and began to vomit.

‘Oh, God,’ I said, looking at Noah, ‘I’m so sorry, it’s the gin.’

‘No,’ he replied calmly, ‘I don’t think it is.’

We stood, side-by-side, watching, not touching, in the cold night air for two minutes while Matthias finished his business. The moon was crescent shaped and bright; a manic grin leering down at me. When he had stopped gagging, Matthias leaned back on the coarse sandy pebbles, stretching out on his back with his hands over his face. I knew he was covering his eyes to prevent us from seeing their redness and I could hear his uneven, ragged breathing. It was strangely unsettling.

The tide was coming in. It rushed in on a sudden swell and touched his trousers. As the cold water grabbed him at his ankles, Matthias cried out and scuttled backwards.

‘Don’t touch me,’ he yelled at the water, ‘just don’t touch me.’

I’d never seen him so disturbed before. I ran to him and kneeled by his side. Arm around him, comforting. For just that moment, I forgot about why we were there; I just wanted to calm him and make him be the person I was familiar with – unshakable, stable, strong Matthias. This new character made me anxious. I looked back at Noah and saw him wistfully gazing at us. The luminous moon was reflected in his eyes, small crescents that framed his pupils, cat-like and mysterious.

‘Matthias.’ I grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me. ‘This isn’t us. We don’t do this. Whatever it is, we’ve faced worse.’

He nodded and began taking his sodden boots and socks off, burying his toes into the pebbles.

‘Now, tell me what it is.’

I turned to Noah and motioned for him to sit next to us.

‘What do you both know that I don’t? Just out with it.’

‘Maida …’ Matthias began but then gave up with a sigh. ‘I can’t even …You go,’ he said to Noah.

Noah lowered his body next to mine, shoulder to shoulder. His eyes were suddenly full of concern, as though he was worried what he was about to tell me would send me loopy too.

‘I have a theory,’ he began. ‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while.’ He took a deep breath, pausing, considering how to frame the sentence. ‘I don’t think the Flood was natural. I don’t think it was an unavoidable climatic event that melted the caps. I don’t think it was
unplanned.
’

‘Unplanned? Well of course it was unplanned, nature can’t be planned, it just
happens
. That’s how nature works.’

‘But I don’t think this was nature. I think it was
manmade
. This Flood was planned. Planned by men. Planned by the Metropole. And planned by the Mayor.’

Like rays of bright, penetrating sunshine evaporating mist, I saw clearly for the first time that night. I had been constrained by what I thought was possible, probable, natural, moral. But now Noah had broken the barriers of possibility for me, it made so much sense.
The Flood had been planned and carried out by the Metropole. It was not natural. It was manmade.
Made by men with an agenda. Made by men with no moral compass. Made by men with a desire to proclaim themselves masters of nature, masters of us, masters of the world. All those people. The victims of power-hungry men, lying at the bottom of the artificial sea. It made me feel ill. I suddenly understood Matthias’ reaction when the water touched him. That water caused the death of his parents. If the men hadn’t made the Flood, hadn’t melted the caps, his parents wouldn’t have had to stand up to the Mayor.

‘How? Why? When did you find out?’ So many questions.

‘We learnt geography in school.’ So they did go to school. ‘It was my favourite subject so I decided to read a bit more. My grandfather had some geography books in the library at our mansion from before the Flood. They were really old but very interesting. They said that climate, weather, all the natural stuff happened slowly, evolving over time. It just seemed odd that all that ice could melt into nothing in a few months. I asked my parents about it. They didn’t seem to care about the strange circumstances of the melt, all they cared about was that they managed to get all our antiques out of their old manor on the coast and into our new house on higher ground before the Flood hit. Millions of commoners didn’t manage that. Didn’t manage to get to higher ground. Do you know how my parents and all the other nobles managed it?
They were warned
.’

‘What?’ shouted Matthias, suddenly roused from his stupor.

‘Not explicitly. But the Mayor sent a quiet note to all the important people in the area telling them that they might want to move to higher ground. He didn’t say why but my parents, knowing the contacts he had, knowing how powerful he was, obeyed him. He probably wanted to save the people with money to establish his new regime. But even though they were warned, my family didn’t know anything about the Flood until it hit,’ Noah added, looking worried at Matthias’s murderous expression.

Matthias looked faintly green. ‘And none of them, none of those families, none of the Bluebloods, thought to let the townsfolk know. None of them
deigned
to trouble themselves to save our worthless lives.’

‘Matt,’ I said in a warning voice, ‘you’ll make yourself ill again.’

‘I feel sick as it is,’ he replied.

Noah looked ashamed and uncomfortable. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said simply. ‘It’s unforgiveable. The only excuse I can give is that they, the nobles, didn’t know how bad it was going to be. They didn’t know that the Metropole would melt the caps and they didn’t know how many would die.’

‘You don’t have to apologise for them,’ I said, ‘you weren’t there.’

‘Still …’ he replied. I felt sorry for him, he shouldn’t have to apologise for his background any more than I should – we couldn’t help being who we were. The fact he was telling us now was redemptive in itself.

A thought came to me. ‘Those men with accents Iris filmed. They were from the Metropole? The Mayor was having meetings with Metropole officials about this before it happened. He planned it with them?’

‘Yes. I can’t be sure about this but what I guess is that the officials of the Metropole wanted to gain more power. With so few natural resources left, the Metropole was under a lot of pressure, fighting with the Americas and Asia for any scrap of oil or coal. So they came up with a plan. A plan that would allow them to access the last reserve of inaccessible oil hidden under the Arctic, a plan that would drown large parts of its enemies’ territories and a plan that would allow them to establish an Empire to gain more resources. It was a plan that would kill four birds with one stone. The Metropole became the Imperial Empire of the Metropole, gained all our land and resources, drowned large parts of Asia and the Americas, and gained the last reserve of oil on the planet.’

The scale of the plan was simply inconceivable, mind-blowing. The Metropole had sacrificed millions of people, whole countries and continents,
the entire future of our world
, for oil and power.

‘They couldn’t have done it without some co-operation from insiders. Ones who were prepared to betray their people in return for power in the new order. Ones who would ensure the submission of the survivors. Ones who would make sure the Metropole had a firm grip on the outer edges of their Empire.’

‘Harpick. He knew millions would die and he did nothing. He as good as murdered them with his own hands,’ I finished.

Matthias sighed. ‘And there’s not a thing we can do. Who would believe this? And even if people did believe us, we wouldn’t last five minutes until the Mayor found out and had us conveniently involved in an accident. There’s nothing we can do.’

‘Well, I don’t know …’ Noah said, with a hint of slyness in his voice. ‘Why do you think I told you about Iris and the video camera? No. I think we have proof.’

‘The tapes!’ I cried. ‘She filmed them talking about it?’ But then my heart quickly sank. I remembered Noah had said Harpick had confiscated the camera after he had discovered her filming his meetings with the Metropolites.

‘The tapes are gone, aren’t they?’ I asked Noah.

‘After the Flood, Iris was kept in a secure room, basically a cell, in the Mayoral Complex. She languished there for years. But five years after the Flood, Harpick and Iris had a child, Flora.

‘My family were utterly surprised. Perhaps the Mayor was starting to think of his succession, keep power in the family, that sort of thing but he was obviously disappointed. Flora turned out as mad as her mother. But having a child seemed to renew a fighting spirit in Iris, she finally had something to live for. And she became troublesome, attempting to escape. Knives were found hidden in Flora’s cot – probably to be used against the Mayor. But the thing that sealed her fate was that she began talking about tapes, about secrets she knew, about how she would prove he was evil if he didn’t let her and Flora go.

‘This frightened the Mayor more than the knives did. He had ordered one of his guards to confiscate all the tapes Iris had ever made when he confiscated the camera, but the guard obviously didn’t do a very good job. Iris had hidden the most incriminating ones away. And now she was threatening to use them against him. He couldn’t kill her or else my grandparents would raise the other nobles against him. So he did the only thing he could – banished her to the most remote place he could think of and use Flora as a bargaining chip to secure her and my family’s compliance. When the Mayor finally decided to get rid of her and banish her to the Highlands, my family were allowed one last goodbye with her. Her parting words were “they’re hidden where the earth splits”.’

‘Where the earth splits? Where’s that? Do you think they’re still hidden in the Complex?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know. But I’m going to find them and play them for all the townsfolk to see. That’s why I had to stay last night. I’ve been looking for clues about where they are. That’s why I have to carry on being the Mayor’s assistant until I find them, until I find where the earth splits. Only I’m all out of ideas. I can’t find them. I’m not sure that they’re even in the Complex anymore.’

‘Then, what are you going to do?’ Matthias asked.

‘I’m going to go to the Highlands and bring Iris back. With Flora dead, she can finally return and challenge him without fear of repercussions. She can tell us where she’s hidden the tapes. But I don’t have much time. There’s something else you should know. This might come as a shock but the Imperial Monarch has been dead for a year now.’

‘What?’ I cried. ‘He can’t be – he’s on all the posters, his face is stamped onto the bread.’

‘I know, but trust me, he has been dead a year. All the Parrots, nobles, and the Mayor know. That’s what the feast was about – discussing succession plans. The Metropole doesn’t really need him in person, they only need the
idea
of him to keep control.’

‘Why hasn’t his son come to the throne?’ asked Matthias.

‘There have been some problems with the succession. Apparently his son is even more hard-line than the Imperial Monarch was, and his wife is even worse. But the Metropole is finally preparing for the announcement that the Imperial Monarch is dead and his son will take over. Brigadus has the
honour
of being the first stop on the Coronation Tour of the Empire.’

This struck me as bizarre. Brigadus was considered savage and barbaric, somewhere that the Metropolites hated coming to and we were often, thankfully, missed out of tours.

‘Why were we chosen?’ Matthias asked.

‘Apparently his wife has a keen interest in Brigadus, God knows why. But we’ll be their first destination. It’s in one week. They will expect a good show. And I intend to give it to them – I’m going to interrupt the coronation ceremony to show the tape to the nation and to the Empire. Broadcast it live where everyone can see their treachery – so that everyone knows what they’ve done.’

Matthias and I looked at each other in shock. Noah’s plan trumped every plan we had ever made; every little act of resistance, every small rebellion, even the most recent plan to get the food from the Complex. This was the ultimate act of defiance that would bring the entire Empire, the entire world order, crashing down. I didn’t need to hesitate.

‘Count me in,’ I said.

‘Me too,’ added Matthias.

‘I need to find those tapes quickly. And that means I need Iris. I need to bring her back from the Highlands, only it’s hundreds of miles across the flooded plains.’

‘Need a boat?’ I asked.

He nodded. Matthias and I smiled.

‘No problem. Consider it done,’ I said.

I wondered how our creaky houseboat would fair on the high seas.

Chapter Thirteen

It was 3.30 am by the time Matthias had dropped me off at our houseboat.

‘You think she’ll sail?’ he asked, looking sceptically at the old hull. The creaking was particularly loud in the darkness.

‘Well, she hasn’t ever sprung a leak. I better get inside, make sure Edie and Aiden are OK and tucked up.’

‘All right, see you tomorrow at six.’

We had been invited by Noah to his parents’ mansion for tea. Apparently they wanted to talk to us; they had some information that they thought would be useful before we set sail. The thought of stepping into a Blueblood mansion scared me for a number of reasons. It was like offering yourself up to the wolves, willingly. I’d need a strategy to cope with being there. But first: sleep was my priority.

Matthias yawned loudly and started down the jetty in the direction of his grandmother’s house.

‘Matt – tell your grandmother I’ll call in on her tomorrow, OK?’ I hadn’t been to visit her in a few days. I had been too caught up in my own plans that I had forgotten about her. I scooped together a small pile of kindling on the deck and made a mental note to take it to her tomorrow. He looked back and nodded. He had to be in the munitions factory at 7 a.m. for his morning shift. I regretted making him stay up so late. He’d be exhausted. It was dangerous work in the factories; every worker needed his wits about him to avoid a fatal mistake. I hoped he’d manage to get some sleep and not lie awake, mind whirling, as I knew mine would be.

Wolf greeted me with a happy wag but stayed in his basket. I stuck my head around the twins’ bedroom and saw them sleeping softly, blonde hair stuck to their foreheads and looking much younger than they were. I closed the door quietly and went to my room in the old captain’s cabin. I blew out the oil lamp and fell on the bed, persuading my overactive mind into a state of calm emptiness. I was asleep within the hour.

The first thing I noticed was the smell. Acrid, pungent, like vinegar, filling the room. I then noticed that there was a weight at the foot-end of the bed, tipping the mattress and pulling at the bedcovers. It was still completely dark. Morning had not arrived yet. I was blind and disorientated. I could hear shallow, quick breathing coming from somewhere. I pushed tentatively at the weight with my toes and found an unrelenting, warm figure. I pulled my toes in quickly.

‘Wolf?’ I asked.

No reply.

Of course no reply, stupid, dogs can’t talk
.

The breathing continued.

‘Aiden, if that’s you out of bed I’ll give you five seconds to go back or face a rollicking.’

No reply. No movement. Just raspy breathing.

Sounding braver than I felt I said, ‘Fine have it your way. One. Two. Three. Four …’ I hesitated, waiting to see if he was playing a game. ‘Five!’ I yelled.

At that very second, the oil lamp burst into light and a man’s voice very close to my ear said, ‘Boo.’

I tried to scream and scrabble up the bed towards the headrest, but the man placed his hand over my mouth and pinned me down whilst I struggled. A dirty, gremlin face leered over me. The smell was vile, almost so thick I could taste it. His clothes were torn rags and his eyes had that manic look that very drunk people have when they have left the realm of the rational and have wandered into territory of the hallucinatory.

It was the singing drunk from outside Nora’s.

‘Didn’t think an old drunk would be clever enough to follow you, did you? Thought I was a good fer nothin’, you and that giant friend. But, here I am!’

His cackle turned into a hacking cough and I saw my chance. I shoved his stinking body off me and dashed for the door. I needed to get Edie and Aiden out. But he suddenly appeared directly in front of me, blocking the exit. How the hell did he get there so quickly? His flattened palm found the middle of my chest and I bounced backwards off it. Normal fights didn’t consist of moves like that. They consisted of wild punches, scratching fingernails, kicks to any part of the body one could find. But obviously this man had been trained in combat somewhere. His drunkenness belied the composure of a soldier.

‘Now, now, behave why don’t you? I’m not gonna hurt you,’ he said.

‘What do you want? We have no money.’

He laughed again. ‘What do I want with money? I don’t care about money. I just want to talk to you, put a proposition to you if I may.’

‘Proposition?’ I asked warily.

I was edging towards my dresser where I knew my comb was. It wasn’t the ideal weapon but it had a pointed handle that might be useful for gouging at eyes if needs be.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ the man said.

With that, he left my room, banging the door open, striding into the living room and began throwing chopped firewood on the smouldering embers in the potbellied stove. The embers barely emitted any light but cast elongated shadows across the walls and floors, like a strange funhouse mirror, stretching figures into creepily distorted shapes. The man’s shadow was looming and large, dancing across the walls. I crept to the door and peered round it, half-hiding, unsure what to do. Usually an intruder would be met with a clang of a saucepan over his head but my mind was still whirling from the conversation a few hours ago and I couldn’t help thinking this proposition could be something vital. A door creaked open to the right of me. Edie walked straight out, rubbing her eyes.

‘Maida, what time is it? Have you just got back?’

She halted in her tracks when she saw the drunk and looked around wildly. ‘Maida? Maida?!’ she cried.

‘It’s OK, I’m here.’ I appeared from around the door. ‘Go back to bed now and don’t come in here again. I’ll let you know when to come out.’

‘Oh, big sister’s so mean to send you to bed! Let her join the party, I’ve brought sugar drops.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out small lumps of pink candies. Edie bounded forward and grabbed one before I could stop her.

‘I always see these in the shop in town but we can never afford them,’ she gushed. ‘Mmm, they’re delicious!’ she said, chomping on one with a look of pure pleasure. She smiled a sugary smile at me.

‘Edie, just go and sit on the sofa and don’t eat any more of those. Now!’ I added as I saw her about to protest. Aiden came out of his bedroom and looked around at the strange scene. He always took things in his stride and didn’t question who the man was or why we suddenly had a wealth of expensive sugar drops on our table. He simply reached for one as he walked by the table and joined Edie on the couch.

‘Where did you get those?’ I asked, pointing at the drops.

He waggled his fingers at me. ‘Five-finger discount,’ he said.

A thief as well as a drunk. Marvellous.

When the man had finished coaxing the fire into something warm and light-giving, he faced me and indicated the rocking chair.

‘Sit,’ he ordered.

‘I don’t appreciate being dictated to in my own house.’

‘Then stand,’ he said with a sneer.

Damn it. I couldn’t do either now without it seeming like I was obeying his instructions. So I perched defiantly on the corner of the kitchen table. He laughed heartily.

‘Just like her,’ he said to himself.

‘Like who?’ I asked.

He ignored my question and began opening and closing cupboards.

‘Got anything to drink?’

‘We’ve got milk, water, some apple juice that I pressed this morning, and some lemon barley,’ Edie said.

‘He doesn’t mean that kind of drink,’ I told her. ‘No, we don’t. But I hardly think you need any more,’ I said to him.

He laughed again. ‘So speaks the puritan. From what I’ve seen you and that giant drink at Nora’s, you’re not one to talk, love.’

‘What does he mean, Mai-?’

‘Nothing,’ I cut Aiden off. ‘Speaking of that giant, he’ll be back here shortly and when he finds you here you’ll wish you were never born.’

‘No, he’s not. He’s not due back until six tonight. Don’t lie to old Grimmy. Grimmy can always tell when people are lying,’ he said. ‘But enough of all this chatter, charming as it is. Do you want to know why I’m here and what I have to offer or not?’

‘Fine. It better be good,’ I growled.

‘I heard everything you were talking about tonight. Down by the shore. I heard what you and the giant and that fancy-pants Blueblood are planning and I want in. I can be of help,’ he said.

 ‘Help? Really? What’s your special skill, then? Making people pass out from your stench?’

‘And what’s yours? Running away and leaving others to take the flack?’ he retorted.

I gasped. He smiled when he saw my shocked expression. ‘That’s right, I know all about what happened in the Complex. Not bad detective work for an old drunk, is it?’

‘How do you know?’

‘It’s amazing what people will talk about in front of you when they think you’re nothing but a wasted old sot. No mind though, their prejudice is all to my advantage. I find out a lot of things when people think I’m not listening. Just like earlier. I heard all about your little scheme. And, like I said, I want in. I won’t take no for an answer.’

‘Why on earth should we let you? I don’t know you, you could be anyone. You could be a spy for the Mayor,’ I said.

‘Well, in that case you better kill me now.’ He slid a knife across the kitchen table and I caught the handle before it fell to the floor. ‘Go on. I won’t resist. If you really think I’m a spy you better end it now.’

I looked at the blade and back to the man, Grimmy. I put the knife back on the table and slid it away from me.

‘That’s right, love. You know I’m not a spy. You know, deep down, I’m on your side.’

And I did. I’m not sure how I knew but it says a lot for my judgement and the state of the Protectorate when a young girl is more willing to put her trust in a drunken tramp than a government official.

I thought back to his song:

We’ll walk together, down the line; and see the sun begin to shine;

the past is dead, our joy divine; our dream is won, the future’s mine

and I knew that I could put my faith in him.

‘That song you were singing. Where’s it from?’ I asked.

‘It was our anthem last time we rebelled. Eighteen years ago. The song that rallied us all. We used it in the underground resistance. If you heard someone else singing it, you knew you could trust them.’

‘I know it,’ I told him.

‘No, you don’t,’ he replied.

‘Excuse me, yes, I do. How do you know what I do and don’t know? Didn’t know you could read minds.’

‘I can’t read minds but I do know you’ve never heard it before. It was a secret song. Regina made it up. She was always clever. Only rebels knew it. And all the rebels are dead now. Executed. Apart from me. And I’ve never told anyone about it. I’m the last person alive who knows it so that’s how I know you’re lying.’

‘I
have
heard it before. You probably sang it to others when you were drunk. Probably everyone at Nora’s knows it,’ I insisted.

‘Wrong again, darling. I’ve sang it to no-one but you, last night. First time in eighteen years.’

 ‘Why me?’

He shrugged and said, ‘Just a look about you. About your eyes. Looked like her a little.’

‘Like Regina?’ I asked, but he had lost interest and began rooting around in the cupboard for food.

He found a small loaf of bread and started to rip chunks off with his teeth, dog-like.

‘Please, help yourself,’ I said sarcastically and moved to the sofa to sit with Edie and Aiden.

‘You were part of the resistance? How are you still alive? The giant’s – I mean Matthias’s – parents were part of the resistance but were executed after Regina abandoned them.’

‘
Regina didn’t abandon us
,’ he hissed, suddenly very angry. ‘She wouldn’t do that, I don’t believe it. The Mayor got her, I’m sure of it. Not my Regina.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant – after she disappeared. My friend’s parents were caught and killed. How are you still alive?’

‘What’s the giant’s last name?’

‘Redman.’

‘Ah yeah, the Redmans. They were very brave. After Regina disappeared, some of the others wanted to abandon the final push to take the Complex. But the Redmans argued that Regina would have wanted us to carry on. Brave but stupid. We couldn’t do it without her. Fell apart.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question,’ I said. ‘How come you survived the rebellion when everyone else got executed for it?’

His eyes looked downwards shiftily and refused to meet my gaze.

‘Oh,’ I said, softly, ‘looks like I’m not the only abandoner round here. Got scared, did you?’

 ‘I’m not scared of anything,’ he replied ‘least of all a scrawny teenager with an attitude problem.’

We stared at each other; he puffed himself up, his chin angled towards me in a hostile pose. It struck me how similar we both were. He pulled a thin cylinder of rolled-up tobacco leaves from the pocket of his wax jacket and thrust its end into the stove. It caught alight with a hiss and a thin wisp of blue smoke slithered from it, like a snake charmer coaxing a cobra into a dance. Grimmy put it to his mouth and inhaled deeply. He held it out to me. I declined.

‘I didn’t run away,’ he said after four longs puffs on the roll up. ‘I was the insider. Undercover. Worked in the Complex for the Mayor.’

‘You? A Parrot?’ It was like two opposing magnetic forces – I simply could not force the images of a clean, officious Parrot together with this flea-ridden vagrant before me.

‘Why so surprised? I was the Munitions Inspector for the armouries. Reported back the status in the factories and ensured output and safety standards. One of the highest positions.’

He took another long drag, deliberately blowing the cloud of smoke into my face, temporarily obscuring my view of him. ‘After we lost Regina, the other rebels knew that we didn’t stand a chance but they wanted to try anyway. I didn’t join them in the push for the Complex because I was supposed to be their back-up in case it all went wrong. In the best case scenario, they took the Complex and killed the Mayor, I would come out of my undercover operation and begin a new munitions programme. Worst case scenario: rebellion failed, I was to go back to my undercover job – a sleeper cell, readily placed to start the resistance again with a new generation. They needed at least one person to remain anonymous to carry on the torch if they were all exposed and arrested. Unthinkable scenario: rebellion fails, Regina gone, rebels dead, Mayor and Metropole even more brutal than before, I was supposed to set in motion the final operation.’