“High fever.”
“Dunno, looks like TB to me.”
“Don’t you inoculate these people?”
Vikram’s insides churned. Something was chewing on his organs. Fish, probably. Perhaps he was already dead. When he closed his eyes, the idea did not seem so bad-then hands grabbed his shoulders once more. A bilious wave made him faint.
Linus Rechnov was here. There was something important that Vikram had to say to Linus.
“The boats.” He tried to lift his arms, take hold of the other man’s face. It was imperative that Linus understood. “The boats, they don’t come back. Tell me why the boats don’t come back.”
He fumbled at air.
“What’s he saying?”
“He’s raving. Get a sedative.”
Linus flickered, a creeping red darkness around him. His face became smaller and his voice got thinner and thinner.
“Listen to me, Vikram. I am going to get you out of here. I’m going to get you treatment. And then you are going to do something for me. Do you understand? Nod if you understand.”
Vikram’s head fell forward, but it was an involuntary action. His mind had already abandoned the visitation. He was sinking into unconsciousness.
His arms lay immobile on crisp white bed sheets. A needle attached to a plastic bag was stuck in the crook of Vikram’s left elbow, and a clear substance dripped steadily into his blood.
Linus Rechnov sat on a visitor’s chair. Vikram was in hospital, and he had a visitor. He entertained this notion silently, knowing it must lead somewhere, wondering where.
“How long have I been here?”
“Three days.”
Vikram blinked. Three days. The quiet of this place, the calm efficiency of the nurse who had entered earlier, changed the drip, taken his pulse and smiled at him, seemed unearthly. It had taken Vikram a while to realize that these were no longer the phantoms of his mind.
“You’re not well,” Linus said. “I can see that. But we don’t have much time so I have to brief you now. Adelaide has been captured by renegades in the west. They have direct contact with the press and they are using her as leverage. They say her life is on the line if we don’t cooperate.”
His mind reeled.
“Captured? How?”
“They’ve asked for a negotiator.”
Linus let the silence drag out, forcing Vikram to complete the implicated conclusion.
“You want me to negotiate?” His voice did not sound the way he remembered it. It was thicker. Hoarser. It sounded old.
“The rebels have specifically asked that we hand you over. They refuse to allow anyone else to negotiate. No doubt they see your release as another coup for their cause.”
Vikram turned this over. His own instinct was less certain. The aid schemes might have been seen as a terrible failure: this request could be as much about revenge as it seemed to be about rescue. He tried to pull his mind into focus. He needed facts.
“There’s been more riots?”
“Riots, yes, that’s where it started.” Linus was impatient.
“And what do the-the rebels want?” The gauze covering the needle in his arm irritated his skin. He scratched at it.
“With the current shortages, reserve supplies of fish and kelp are being held back. The renegades have demanded the release of these stores.”
“Seems fair to me.”
“You realize that this places me in a highly awkward situation. I have been seen to pledge my support of the west. Of your schemes, in fact. Now those same people have my sister as a hostage.”
“What are you trying to say-I owe you something? I think your sister’s intervention has secured me enough problems for one lifetime, don’t you?”
Linus leaned forward.
“It doesn’t look so good for your people, Vikram.”
Their eyes met and locked. Anger took Vikram by surprise. He could feel the strain the emotion was putting on his body, only beginning to recover. He strove for calm. The facts. Just the facts.
“How did Adelaide get taken hostage?”
“I have no idea. It appears the little fool was in the west.”
“In the west?” He was temporarily stupefied. He had assumed, hazily, some sort of covert raid. What did Adelaide think she was doing in the west? He thought of the last time he had seen her, the reddened eyes, the bald stranger’s words: She’s under house arrest. Adelaide had run away then. From one imprisonment directly into the arms of another. Vikram’s lip curled. It was absolutely typical.
Linus looked away. “I was also… surprised, as you can imagine. It’s not like Adelaide to go slumming it.”
Vikram felt an intense wave of dislike for the man.
“Did you ever show her that letter?”
“The letter has no bearing on the matter,” Linus said testily.
“It might if it made her go off on some insane mission.”
“She hasn’t seen the letter. And why she is in the west is no longer relevant. The fact is, she’s there, she’s been caught, and she’s a bargaining chip. We need her back. The press are all over this.”
Linus had the expression of a man who needed something, needed it badly, but did not want to admit it.
“So what do I get for negotiating for you?”
“You’re out of prison, aren’t you?”
“For good?”
“You’ll get a full pardon and amnesty in the City if you cooperate fully with us.”
“Us?”
“Myself and my father.”
There had to be more to it.
“By amnesty, do you mean Citizenship?”
“Citizenship, amnesty, yes.” Linus’s lips compressed.
“They’re not the same thing.”
“Fine. Citizenship. As long as you cooperate.”
“And by as long as you mean…”
“You understand what I mean, Vikram.”
Linus sat back in the chair and folded his arms. Vikram understood the message, which Linus was so reluctant to spell out. Freedom he had got. That was the bait. Release, and medical care. It put him in debt, too. The drip, the expensive chemicals, the nurse’s smile-all paid for by the Rechnovs. Citizenship he would get, but at a further cost; the cost of being in someone else’s pocket.
“What do you want me to do?”
“We’ve been given a location. You’re to go there alone. When you get there, one of their people will take you to Adelaide.”
“Who am I dealing with? Is it the NWO?”
“No, we believe this is a new network. They’re calling themselves Surface. The leader, or leaders, refuse to give any names, but the ringleader is referred to as the Coordinator. So far, that is all we have managed to ascertain.”
“You’re making deals with people and you don’t even know who they are.”
“It’s a trait with the west,” Linus said smoothly. “You seem to prefer anonymity-a mistake, but there you have it. You’ll be tracked, of course.”
