“We never had a choice,” said Nils abruptly. “They made it for us. They make the same choice every time they slaughter one of us.”
“But we don’t have the resources to fight them, never mind attack them,” Drake said. “We never have.”
“That’s why Maak wants insiders,” said Rikard. “He’s taking on old principles. The man thinks like an Osuwite — the NWO radicals didn’t go far enough for him.”
Nils exhaled a trickle of smoke through his nostrils. “D’you reckon it was the NWO who killed the Dumays, Rikard?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Could have been anyone,” said Drake. “You know what I think? I think the Rechnovs did it. Them or the Ngozis.” She held her hands over the heater, rubbing them together. “Makes perfect sense. They wanted everyone to hate the west, so they killed off two of their own.”
“Could well be,” Rikard nodded. “Why don’t you ask the girl?”
Drake laughed. “Adelaide? She don’t know anything.”
Rikard looked at Vikram, as if for confirmation. Vikram thought of his last conversation with Linus. He thought of the man’s reaction when he said Whitefly. But Adelaide hadn’t known about that either; she’d been fishing for information. Once again, he thought of her drugged, ice-bound eyes. There had to be a way to get her out without compromising the others. Adelaide would listen to him. If he told her to hide, she’d hide.
“Honestly,” he said. “I don’t think she does.”
When Pekko returned, his face was agitated. He stood in the doorway, surveying them all, until one by one their conversations dropped away. His hands, buried in his pockets, clenched and unclenched. At first it was not clear whether the news was good or bad. Then a smile twisted Pekko’s mouth.
“We have a location for the exchange,” he said.
Everyone spoke at once.
“When, Pekko?”
“Who did you speak to?”
“What did they say?”
Pekko came to sit by the heater, not next to anyone but in a space of his own. He was clearly relishing his moment of triumph.
“Tomorrow, two hours after sun-up. S-294-W. They’ve promised to withdraw the patrol force. They’re sending the food supplies.”
Rikard rattled two die between his hands.
“Will they expect to see the girl before they release the boats?”
Pekko barked with laughter.
“The girl’s going nowhere near the place. All we have to do is sit tight and let Sorren’s cell take care of it. They’ll seize the supplies. If the Citizens complain we can always send them a bit of the girl. A finger, for example.”
Excitedly, the group discussed the logistics. Vikram said nothing. The back of his neck tingled where the dampened tracker was lodged. Implanted, Pekko had said. What in hell’s tide had Linus put on him? Had he really imagined Vikram would trust Linus to keep his side of the bargain?
“I’ll go check on Adelaide,” said Ilona, as if she could read his thoughts.
“Already done,” Pekko shot over his shoulder. He grinned. “Not in the best state, our little princess. Learning how the real folk live.”
His eyes slid to Vikram: a slow, thoughtful look.
Sunset fell. Vikram accompanied Nils on his watch. They felt their way around the circumference of the window-wall, peering through the opaque glass for the telltale lights of skadi boats. The wind had dropped. On the other side of the tower, they stood watching the sea. The moon glimmered faintly on the waves.
Vikram spoke softly to Nils. “Do you blame me for going to the City?”
“You did what any of us would have done.”
“That’s not a no.”
“You’re still pedantic. Anyway, it’s what Mikkeli would have wanted.”
“She did?”
“Of course. It was her great plan. You were always the clever one. She had ambitions, that girl.”
“But that’s what Keli wanted. And she’s gone. It’s us that’s still here.”
Nils’s sigh was heavy. “Of course I can’t blame you, Vik. You were doing good stuff with those schemes.”
“Didn’t work.”
“Not your fault. Things were already in motion.” Nils paused. “Drake and I agreed we’d try and keep you out of it.”
“What? Why?”
“C’mon, Vik. After last time…”
“You were trying to protect me.” Of course they were, he thought. He’d have done the same, had their situations been reversed.
“Well I guess that didn’t work either,” said Nils. “I don’t know what to think any more. Seems like people just keep vanishing. Keli. You. And it eats away at you. Makes you start to wonder about things.”
“What kind of things?”
“What’s ahead. I mean really ahead. I do think of those days, Vik — Horizon, Eirik, all the things he used to talk about — and he really, properly believed them. But it seems like madness. I don’t know what we thought would happen. Maybe back then, everything seemed — well, further away. Like we could beat it. But it’s here, isn’t it. I realized that when they drowned Eirik. I mean, this is it. I’m standing here with a gun and we’ve taken a Rechov hostage. A Rechnov, for stars’ sake.”
Vikram had no answer. He understood what Nils meant. He had seen Adelaide, and he had a choice to make. He could not delay much longer.
Outside, there was nothing but a vacuum.
He said, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the coughing.”
“Stars, it’s nothing.”
“I’ve got City medicine. I’ll give you some.”
“It’s not serious.”
The lie hung between them, Vikram not knowing what to say, Nils clearly wishing the issue closed. Instead, Vikram asked, “What are they going to do with Adelaide?”
“It’s up to Maak. He’s in charge.”
Vikram could not see Nils’s face, but he heard the tension in his voice.
“Pekko wants her dead, doesn’t he?”
“It’s not Pekko’s decision. If Maak has any sense, he’ll strike a real bargain. We could get a lot out of that girl. We got you out of jail because of her, didn’t we?”
“And what if Pekko doesn’t listen to Maak?”
Nils’s silence was all the answer Vikram needed.
He lay awake through the hours of Pekko’s watch and then through Drake’s. Pekko fell asleep, his breathing quick and even. Drake got up and went on patrol. Vikram’s mind wandered. He found himself revisiting the ships rusting away in the harbour, all the expedition boats that had left Osiris, years before he was born. For the first time it struck him as peculiar that none of them had ever come back. Not a single one.
The Rechnovs had a secret. What if no-one was meant to leave? What if “Whitefly” was the key to enforcing that?
The wind moaned and rattled the boards in the window-wall. He shook aside the thought. It was only ghosts whispering in his ear. Their malice was childish.
Drake returned. He watched her face, tinged red with the glow of the heater. She huddled over it, her hands resting on her knees and her chin upon her hands.
“What time is it?” he muttered.
“About half four. Get some sleep, Vik.”
“I can’t. My mind’s too awake. D’you remember the story of the last balloon flight, Drake?”
She gave him a tired smile. He sensed she had been lost in her own thoughts. Perhaps now was not the time for his. “The one Keli talks about. Yeah, I remember. It’s not a good story though, really, is it.”
“No. I guess not.”
He lay back once more, watching a drop of moisture form on the ceiling until it fell onto the heater with a hiss. Even though the plaster was crumbling and the tower was falling apart, the sight of the water did not fill him with horror as it had done in the cell. For the first time, he felt the full relief of his escape.