Theories of Flight

Sonja acknowledged the information with a barely perceptible nod. Then she retraced her steps and wheeled Lucy out of the door. It flapped closed behind them.

“So what do I do with you?” asked Petrovitch. He lowered his gun, even though Valentina declined to follow his lead. “What do I even call you?”

“Tabletop. I can’t remember what my real name is.”

Petrovitch had his own reasons for forgetting his name, but it wasn’t because he didn’t know it. “Can’t?”

“They take it from you, along with your friends, your family, all your memories, your past and your future. I let them. For the sake of the nation.” The woman called Tabletop pressed her palms together and clenched her jaw. “If she wasn’t already dead, I’d kill the stupid bitch.”

When she lowered her hands, she apologetically showed them the insides of her wrists. Two small blades had emerged from the cloth.

“I say we shoot her,” said Valentina. “She is dangerous.”

“Yeah. She is.” Petrovitch scratched at his chin. “But it’s not us she’s dangerous to. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” she said. “I will betray them all and tell you everything.”

He took a moment to consider his next move. “Do you,” he started, and then deliberately put down his automatic on the desk. He took a step back so it was out of reach. “Do you know what happened to my wife?”

“I can do better than that,” said Tabletop. “I can take you to her.”

32

So where are we going?” Petrovitch was in the driver’s seat, Tabletop next to him. Behind were Sonja, Lucy and Valentina—who kept her AK pointing vaguely in the direction of the front passenger seat.

“They’re hiding at Chain’s house, waiting for extraction.”

“Couldn’t make it to Epping Forest?”

“No. Not now. We didn’t expect you to win against the Outies.”

“Ha.” He thought of the location, the town house on the Seven Sisters Road, and the car rumbled into life. He noticed Tabletop watching him intently, trying to work out what he was doing and how. “So who’s got her?”

“Maccabee.” She hesitated. “And Rhythm.”

Petrovitch held up his hand. “No, don’t tell me. Let me guess.” A moment later it was like he’d swallowed something sour. “That pidaras Andersson. Should have hit him harder when I had the chance.”

“He said you only beat him because you took him by surprise.”

“That’s nothing compared to what I’m about to do to him.” Petrovitch peered at himself in the rear-view mirror, trying to find something that would give him a clue as to his current predicament. He pulled a face, and caught sight of Lucy over his shoulder. He twisted around and inspected her. “Tell me again why you’re here?”

Her lips were still bleeding, and her face a map of short scratches and discolored bruises. She held up a carrier bag heavy with promise.

“You told me to get this for you.”

“So I did. Did you find everything?”

She passed the bag forward, and Petrovitch peered inside. It was all in order: wires, batteries, conducting glue, tape, a plastic envelope of tiny cylinders, and the black sphere chased with silver lines.

“You’re getting good at this.”

“Good enough to keep around?”

“I…”

Sonja sniffed. “When I first met you, you were incapable of talking to a woman without insulting her. Now you have a harem.”

Petrovitch abruptly faced front again, adjusting his camera. “And I suppose you haven’t got anything better to do, either.”

“Not since you said you wanted to turn Mackensie into sashimi, no.”

Behind them, the Oshicora security guards were climbing into their own vehicles, slamming doors and turning on lights.

“Last chance to get out,” said Petrovitch.

No one volunteered to move, and he finally pointed forward. The car dropped its wheels off the pavement and started down the road. Three other vans pulled out behind him.

[The last satellite goes below the horizon in seven minutes.]

“Do your best. I take it you heard what McNeil said about the Outies.”

[Her explanation is consistent with the known facts. There are other scenarios which would also fit, but if I apply Occam’s Razor, hers is the most probable.]

“You should be flattered. They tried to destroy a whole city just to get to you.”

[Their actions were a gross over-reaction. Do you intend to ruin President Mackensie’s reputation with his voters?]

“I can’t honestly say I care about his reputation with the Reconstructionistas: they’ll probably love him for it, because, hey, we’re godless heathen foreigners. I would be disappointed, though, if there were more than a half a dozen countries which still had diplomatic relations with them by the time I’ve finished. But enough of the fun to be had. Finsbury Park: secure or not?”

[There are several concentrations of Outies, mainly to the east in the Lea Valley area, but groups are scattered throughout Finsbury Park. They are all moving north, and may decide not to engage with a heavily armed column such as the one you have assembled. However, caution is still advised.]

“Okay. Now tell me if I can trust her.”

[There is insufficient time left in the life of this universe to calculate that solution. Or, if you prefer—no, of course not, and you know that yourself. But you will go with her anyway, because you must.]

“Sucks to be me.”

[I will render assistance where I can. I should be able to deny the airspace to any planned extraction. Would you prefer them captured or killed?]

“I need bargaining chips. Keeping some of them alive would be good.”

[Are you intending to kill the agents who have your wife?]

“I’m intending to worry about that after she’s safe.”

Petrovitch reached into the bag Lucy had given him and retrieved the sphere. She’d sealed it in bubblewrap, and he pinched and tore at it until he could get his finger under a seam.

“Why did you want to bring that along?” asked Sonja.

“Because I thought I might need it.” He passed it to Tabletop. “Hold it like that.”

He glued two wires onto the circular terminals and secured them with tape so they wouldn’t rip free.

“It’s different, isn’t it?” said Lucy. “It’s not the same as the one on the news.”

“About one in a million people would have spotted that.” He opened the packet of electronic components and shook them out into his hand. His camera wouldn’t focus on the tiny writing on the sides of each piece, and he passed them back. “I need something in the microfarad range, and the biggest resistor you can find.”

Only Valentina could interpret the color coding. She explained the system to Lucy while sneering at Sonja for not knowing.

“What is your trigger voltage?”

“That’s a good question. About nine and a half volts.”

“About? If you are wrong, will anyone die?”

Petrovitch grimaced. “Probably.”