‘Really?’ says Morgan, his voice thoughtful.
Simone and Morgan exchange looks. ‘You should go,’ Simone says. ‘It’s going to be a busy night.’
The U/Free scowls at her.
Sef is oblivious, of course.
As for Anton, he’s so busy looking at Sef’s magnificent chest he barely notices Morgan leave. It’s possible he’s running a clever bluff. But I wouldn’t stake my life on it.
Wars have good and bad sides.
The good guys fight for freedom, justice and most words that don’t put food on the table. The bad fight to scrub those words from our speech. Only problem is, both sides claim to be good.
Stay with me, there’s a point to this.
Now, I’ve seen cities after the Uplift finished with them. I’ve walked down alleys the Silver Fist have filled with ripped-open bodies and stepped over the dead children who’ve had their brains cored. I’ve seen braids sprout from the skulls of sobbing captives as the Enlightened virus corrupts flesh to metal.
And if I haven’t raped children myself, or tortured dogs for fun, when all the humans are gone and animals are the only thing left, then I’ve looked the other way while people on my side did so.
I’m not saying we’re better. I’m saying we’re not worse.
The United Free are meant to be better.
They have no emperor or hundred-braid to issue orders. Death is not their automatic punishment for disobedience. They are a commonwealth, united in their love for art, culture and freedom. Concepts that never trouble our glorious leader, or his triple-damned enemy Gareisis.
Kite-flying is a career for the U/Free. So is breeding goldfish, or collecting ancient silicon chips, ferox furs or every kind of jade in the galaxy. Most of which they own anyway. Their ships rip holes in space to arrive before they leave. No one carries a bigger stick or speaks more softly.
We believe we’re the good guys.
The Uplifted believe the same.
Only the U/Free know they’re on the side of right and justice. And they don’t need fancy words to make up for lack of food on their tables, because the Commonwealth of the United Free is the richest civilization ever to exist. Their tables put food on themselves, and their clouds rain to order.
You think I’m joking?
I went to Letogratz once, their capital.
It’s vast and crowded and full of buildings that turn into what you want them to be. Most of the women spend their time discussing poetry, parties or politics. The men waste their lives building elaborate kites.
Almost everyone is bored out of their skulls.
Until I met Paper Osamu, I believed the U/Free were better than us.
It was as simple and non-negotiable as the fact that the sun rises and the sun sets. Now I know the only reason the sun never sets on the U/Free is that Legba doesn’t trust them in the dark.
They’re just richer and better armed than us.
Although it helps that they talk nicely. Morgan has the morals of a rattlesnake. That is, no morals at all. He feeds, he lies in the sun. If threatened he bites. He’s just not used to lowlifes like me.
Who hit back.
Chapter 25
As the militia pass under an arch, their voices echo off cut stone above. Something changed when the cathedral clock struck one. The soldiers no longer bother about hiding in the shadows. Their voices get louder. Almost as if they want to be heard.
‘Sir,’ says Leona. ‘Permission to speak freely?’
Can’t believe people still use that phrase.
‘Go ahead.’
‘Any idea what’s going on?’
My laughter draws Simone to my side.
Anton’s still fussing over her sister. After a moment, he nods at something Sef says and heads for Vijay’s house. Stopping at the top of the steps to listen, he holds Paulo’s abattoir pistol combat-style as he goes through the door.
I send Leona to stand guard. As for Sef, she adjusts her gauzelike shawl. It’s probably coincidence her fingers lightly brush the top of her own breast. Actually, I’m sure it’s not.
‘Not your taste?’
Simone grins at my expression.
‘Thought not. You like the dyke.’
Takes me a moment to realize she means Leona.
‘Just needs a good fuck, eh?’ Her voice is mocking. ‘Think you would be up to it?’
I tell Simone the thought never entered my head.
Stepping close, she says, ‘It’s really true? My sister’s fiance is a friend of yours?’
There’s a smartness in her eyes missing from her sister. A deadly, snake-like smartness, which watches me watching her and calculates something.
My price, probably.
‘Well?’ she says.
I nod.
‘Can’t imagine where he’d have met you.’
Obviously, it doesn’t matter, because she steps closer still. Her breasts brush the front of my jacket. She knows it well enough. Her nipples stand hard, despite the warmness of the night.
‘That man,’ I say. ‘The one who walked away. He’s U/Free?’
Simone’s gaze narrows.
‘He looks U/Free,’ I tell her.
My hands are on her shoulders. And then they’re not, because one rests on her hip, and the other has dropped to the upper slope of her breasts.
My taste in women always was appalling.
Back in the day, women wanted to kill me for the silver in my pocket. Or because I couldn’t pay their price and they’d been too trusting to take the coins in advance. Now, it seems, they simply want to kill me.
Simone reminds me of Paper Osamu.
Both know that lust blinds men to their flaws and makes us stupid enough to do what is asked. And Simone intends to ask something. Her lips keep moving. It’s not passion or some strange sadness. She’s working out the words inside her head.
‘So,’ I say. ‘He’s U/Free?’
Simone nods.
‘Met a U/Free once,’ I tell her. ‘On a battlefield. She was there as an observer. To make sure we slaughtered each other according to the rules.’
Simone glances at me to see if I’m joking.
I’m not.
Still, she’s relieved. She thinks that’s how I know what U/Free look like. As if it’s hard. They look like us, just richer and smugger and better-looking.
‘Where did you meet him?’
‘At a party,’ she says, deciding the truth can’t hurt. ‘The Senate gave a party for the new U/Free ambassador and her husband. I was invited.’
Simone says this with real pride. So I guess most people weren’t.
Weird place, Farlight.
Somehow my hand slips to caress her buttock. From the way her mouth opens, the tip of her tongue appears and her pupils get larger, she’s acutely aware of what’s happening. ‘Look. Your friend’s in danger. People are hunting him.’
How does she know that?
She must see the query in my eyes. ‘Doesn’t matter how. Rescue him. Get him out of this insane- What?’ she asks.
‘Just wondering. Are you a guard or an inmate?’
Simone forces her face into a smile. ‘He’s trapped south of the river,’ she tells me. ‘You need to bring him back. Only the bridges are locked down and the boats this side. So you’ll have to talk your way past roadblocks or find a ferry. Understand?’
Yeah, I understand all right.
I understand she’s telling me the truth. But it’s still a lie. I heard her talking to Morgan about Vijay, remember?
‘Be discreet,’ she stresses.
Maybe I shouldn’t laugh. ‘I’m ex-Legion. We don’t do discreet. We do bloody and vicious and insanely violent.’
And because we do, we don’t need to do it nearly as often as other people believe. Death’s Head. Wolf Brigade. Legion Etrangcre. Our reputation is worth its weight in gold and extra guns.
Simone sighs. ‘Come with me.’
Five doors down is a less grand house, with a front door that exits onto the street. Fumbling in her pocket for a key, Simone clicks the lock and we’re facing an empty hall and a long flight of stairs leading into darkness.