“Tracked?”
“You don’t think I’m actually sending you to negotiate, do you? You’re a bargaining chip yourself. We already tried to arrange a prisoner exchange, but the rebels have refused point blank. They’ve refused all deals. Besides, you might defect.”
“So what you’re really asking is that I betray my own people.”
Linus ignored this.
“Once you’re in, proceed as the rebels expect. They’ll think you’re on their side. Keep your ears open for information. I imagine it will be a simple procedure-they’ll give you a way of contacting us.”
“If they think I’m on their side, why would they use me to negotiate at all?” Vikram interrupted.
“Because they have to negotiate,” Linus said sharply. “I’m not going to play games with you, Vikram. You know as well as I do that the Home Guard could go into the west and crush these riots, and the City would turn a blind eye-more, Citizens would condone such a move. But this time, we can’t, because the rebels have Adelaide and they’ve informed the press. Besides, the Council is anxious to avoid excessive bloodshed. So yes, I think the rebels will be aiming to negotiate, and you, as an airlift, are the obvious choice.”
The word airlift sounded like a vulgarity on Linus’s lips. Vikram did not reply. He noticed a red stain blossoming through the drip gauze.
Linus continued. “You’ll have to make sure that it’s you who brings Adelaide out.”
“Whilst you’re tracking me,” Vikram said dully. He glanced up at the drip. The plastic crinkled inwards as the fluid ran dry. The nurse would be in to replace it soon.
“Precisely. Once you and Adelaide are out, you can leave the rest to the Guard.”
“Skadi. ”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He smoothed the gauze, trying to stem the blood. “I get it.”
“You’re in agreement, then?”
Vikram paused.
“What about the aid schemes?”
Linus shrugged. “They could be reinstated. Maybe next year. If the rescue operation goes successfully.”
“And if I don’t comply…”
“I only have jurisdiction to remove your sentence under the conditions that you are aiding the Osiris Council.”
It was as he had expected; as he had known, from the start of the conversation. “I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“Not really, Vikram. No. I’m sorry.”
“When do I leave?”
Linus sat forward. Brisk and matter-of-fact now. “I’m told you need twenty-four hours before you will be fit to travel. A meeting place is being arranged with the rebels for early tomorrow evening. Your boat is already here. It will contain a decoy tracker. You can tell the rebels about that one. Someone is coming to fit you with a secondary device.”
“I want some things from my apartment. My outdoor clothes.”
“We can bring anything you need here.”
“I want to go myself.”
“Fine. You’ll have to leave earlier.”
Linus straightened his necktie. It had a subtle pattern, almost like wings. Something stirred in Vikram’s memory; slowly, he dredged it out. Adelaide. The jacuzzi. The last time he had seen Linus. A phrase that had been spoken by both siblings.
“What’s Whitefly?” Vikram asked.
“Whitefly?” Linus’s polite smile hovered, but instinct told Vikram that he had hit a nerve. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend it doesn’t mean something. You and Adelaide both mentioned Whitefly-”
“Adelaide-” Linus spoke too quickly, broke off just as fast. Adelaide isn’t supposed to know, Vikram thought. He watched Linus gather his composure. “You’re right, it does mean something. Something I wish I’d never been told, frankly. My advice, Vikram-and as you know, I don’t offer my advice arbitrarily-best forget you ever heard the word. You can consider that part of the terms of our agreement.”
Vikram looked at him squarely.
“One other thing, Linus, before you go. Tell me, how does a man so interested in promoting equality end up sending in guns on innocent people? Or was it all a big sham from the start, helping me?”
A shadow crossed Linus’s face. Vikram could not tell if it was anger, shame or simple contempt. He did not expect an answer from the other man, but there was some small satisfaction gained from posing the question.
“You once asked me something very similar, the first time we met,” Linus said at last. “I don’t suppose you remember now. Why would you? You’re not a politician, Vikram. And you’re not a Rechnov either. Take comfort in the fact that you have no knowledge of either.” He checked his watch. “I have to go. I won’t see you until your return. Good luck.” Linus stood, brushing down his suit.
“Any messages?”
“I’m sorry?”
“For your sister.”
For the first time, Linus hesitated. Then he said, “I’ll see her soon enough.”
The nurse prepared a bag of medication. “Take one of these every few hours,” she instructed, holding up a small plastic bottle. “They’ll keep your energy levels up.”
“Thanks.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, shaved and dressed for outdoors. His face felt light. The back of his neck tingled where they had placed the invisible tracker. He did not tell the nurse that taking medication would probably be the last of his concerns.
“If you feel very weak or faint, give yourself a shot of adrenalin. I’ve given you antibiotics too. All the dosages are on the bottles. Read them properly. Your body is still fighting off the infection. Don’t overexert yourself.” She was speaking very fast. He had a sudden sense of the pace at which his life was about to run, and was bewildered by it.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll read them.”
He held out his hand for the bag. The nurse stared at it. Then she blurted, “I think it’s outrageous the way they’ve treated you. Stitched you up. The Rechnovs. After all you’ve done.”
It had not occurred to Vikram that he might meet with sympathy. He was touched. The nurse pushed the bag into his hand.
“Thanks,” he said gruffly. He read her name tag. “Thanks, Yilla.”
“It’s not fair,” she said.
It was paradoxical, he thought, that the first person this side of the border whose empathy he had recognized outright might also be the last.
Yilla escorted him to the lift. At reception he paused for a moment, observing the order of the place. Doctors in white coats held Surfboards with details ready to be checked. Patients waited to be called. He tried to imagine the resources it would take to set up three surgeries like this in the west. It occurred to him for the first time that such order might really be unattainable; he’d been shouting at the Moon.
“Vikram Bai?”
It was one of Linus’s people. Not in uniform but with a face that said skadi to Vikram as clearly as text. Hoisting the backpack, he followed the man outside. It was late afternoon and the sun hung low in the sky.
The skad directed him to his boat. He showed Vikram where the decoy tracker was. He gave him a map with the location where he was to meet the rebels in three hours time. Vikram stuffed it into a pocket. The man said good luck, but did not sound as if he meant it, and left him.
The world in his absence had become colossal. Vikram hunkered down in the boat, feeling small and scared. His stomach surged with the movement of the waves.
Boats raced by. There were so many of them and the passengers’ eyes were sharp like birds. He did not
