“I should have been round weeks ago.”
“Been busy, from what I heard. I knew you’d be along sooner or later. C’mon, have a drink, tell me how it’s been going.”
Seduced by the rough edge of the liquor and the heater’s warmth, Vikram filled Nils in on the past six weeks. Ilona maintained her silence, watching him from behind the dyed curtain of hair. There was something about her, something obvious, that was eluding Vikram.
“What do you think?” he asked, when he had finished. “Have we made any impact?”
He was eager to recruit his friend. Straddling two communities was a lonely position; he needed allies. Nils, with one arm draped around Ilona’s shoulders, looked thoughtful.
“It’s early days.”
“That doesn’t sound positive.”
“No-it’s just… It’s going to be a hard winter, Vik. Of course people need food and shelter. But there’s so many of them now, I mean, where do you even start.”
“I think people are scared to ask for help.”
“And Adelaide Mystik-that might have been a good thing and a bad thing. She’s a bit of a joke this side of town. I mean, you know that, right.”
“Nils, I needed her.”
“Sure, it was the only way.” Nils leaned forward, his eyes glittering. “But there’s talk, Vik. First the fishing bans. One of our boats got gunned down by fucking skadi last week for so-called illegal hunting. They didn’t even have any fucking fish. Skadi raided a tower last night, said there was a threat to the gliding race but we all know that’s bullshit. Now there’re rumours of another kelp shortage. You’ve got contacts now, you tell me Vik, is it true?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t heard.”
But if it’s true, he thought-then we’re already too late.
“You want to help? I could use a good man, Nils.”
Nils hesitated. “I’ve got-a few things to take care of.” Vikram waited but Nils did not elaborate. Instead, he reached forward to punch Vikram on the arm. “Keep a hotspot for me, though.”
“I will.” Vikram was disappointed. He glanced at Ilona, who dropped her eyes. “I should be getting back. You have company.”
Nils squeezed the girl’s shoulder affectionately. “I do.”
They stood up. Vikram noticed, at waist height behind Ilona, a large hole hacked into the wall. Copper wires dangled from it. Vikram pointed.
“What-”
Nils waved a hand. “Oh, that, that. Trying to find a vein.”
“Well don’t fucking electrocute yourself.”
“No.” Nils scowled at the hole. “Got the wrong damn spot. Current’s to the left.” He put a hand on Vikram’s shoulder. Vikram felt his friend’s weight, too light for a drunk man. Nils’s eyes were beginning to glaze.
“Anyway. We won’t abandon you. If it all goes wrong, there’s backup. You should know that, Vik.”
A tremor crossed Ilona’s face. It was so fast, Vikram thought he might have imagined it. Her hair obscured any expression.
“Backup?”
His friend offered only a lazy smile.
“Always,” he said. “What d’you take us for? Night, Vik.”
Vikram angled the water directly onto his face, powered drops battering his eyelids and cheeks. He turned the temperature up one setting, then another, until it was almost too hot to bear. He emerged ready to embrace what remained of the night. Adelaide had called and he’d told her to come over.
A Sobek o’vis lay in its box. Linus Rechov had sent it to him as a home warming gift. Vikram poured himself a mug of chilled water and settled down to unpack its mysteries. He had unrolled the screen and attached it to the wall when Adelaide arrived. The flickering images provoked a squeal of excitement. Vikram swilled out his only other mug and opened a bottle of raqua whilst Adelaide settled on the lone square of carpet.
She pointed to the anime; a human diver with scaled skin undulating through still water.
“They asked me to do the voice for that.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“It was when Axel-when he started forgetting.”
Vikram sank into the sofa and muted the o’vis. They clanked mugs.
“How was the race?”
“Oh, predictable. I won some money. It might get you another boat.”
There had been one collision, she said, the wings got tangled but nobody died. She gave a little hiccoughing laugh when she said this, and he wondered if she was ever scared going to the races, after what had happened to the Dumays. As she talked her eyes roved the room, checking for changes.
“New salt-tin?”
“Old salt-tin,” he corrected, and in answer to her raised eyebrows, “I went back to the western place.”
Adelaide clapped her hands and drew her legs into a lotus, her attentive pose. “You went back! That explains it. I knew you were preoccupied.”
“Mm.”
“Was it strange? Ghosts of the past?”
“A few,” he acknowledged.
“You never did tell me what happened to her.”
“Who?” Vikram stalled.
“Your friend,” she said. “Mikkeli.”
It sounded odd, Keli’s name, on Adelaide’s lips. She pronounced it like a talisman.
“She was shot,” he said. “The skadi killed her.” He glanced at Adelaide. The lamp’s shadow bisected her face. He was inclined to talk, but he looked away again. “It was towards the end of the riots. The Guards were driving us back tower by tower. They’d cut off the lines to a desalination plant. Everyone was worn out, we knew they’d won, though nobody wanted to admit it.”
He stared at the folds of the curtain.
“Anyway, Mikkeli said we’d try one last thing. If she could sneak in and turn the supply pipe back on, we could make a final push. It was a mad plan, but Mik was like that. Me and Nils both said we’d do it, but she insisted she had the best chance, and she was usually right. She got inside the control tower. The rest of us were nearby, waiting for her signal. I was meant to be getting her away. It was before dawn so everything was grey, you couldn’t see much. I waited, but no signal came. And then she appeared.”
He saw it again. The way he saw it almost every night in his dreams. He watched Mikkeli exit the tower and walk to the edge of the decking. Her yellow hood obscured her face. In one hand she had a gun. She stayed there, motionless. Why didn’t she move? She was exposed.
Mikkeli’s hands lifted, very slowly, to her head. She still clutched the gun. He realized what was happening. Someone else was on the decking. They had Keli hostage, but she wouldn’t give up her weapon. What was their plan? To flush out the rest of the rebels? But Keli would have a plan too; she always had a plan. Vikram urged his boat closer.
It was the music he heard first-an assault of bass driven metal. A motor boat skidded around the corner. It was thronged with skadi. Their guns were a fifth limb. In the predawn light they seemed to dance, all five limbs contorting in crazed shapes. The music splintered the cold, cold day, like breaking glass. Gunshots cracked. Mikkeli dropped instantly. She toppled into the water and gunfire peppered the sea and her body. The skadi hurtled on with whoops and cheers.
Vikram threw himself over the side of the boat. The cold was shocking. The waves fought him as he splashed through the freezing water. He reached Mikkeli at last, wrapped his arms around her body and hauled both of them onto the decking. He put both hands on her chest and pumped. Blood and seawater leaked from her mouth and nose. He put his mouth to hers and forced his breath into her. For an incredible second he heard her gurgle, but it wasn’t her, or if it was it was the last sound she made.
