“When can we get more information?” TK pressed.
“I’m meeting another source on Thursday—I need to explain that sources only report when they emerge on leave, as they can’t communicate from the Value System.”
“I want to know immediately.”
“Yes, Your Decency,” Wingfield said, taking an action item.
*
By Thursday evening, TK had not heard further from Wingfield regarding the breakout from the Value System. This annoyed him. His life was stressful enough without his bodyguard letting him down. For instance, TK was still bearing the burdens of leadership at nine-thirty in the evening. He was at Wilson House, the Krossington palace in the Central Enclave district of Mayfair. The butler and he were confirming the guest list for the Advent Dinner, which would be this coming Sunday night. A slight draft caused him to look up. In total silence, Wingfield had opened the door, entered and shut the door without either of them having noticed. The draft was caused by him wafting his notepad.
“Where have you been?” TK groused.
“My apologies. I had to go up to Camden asylum for a meeting.”
“With whom?”
“At the last Household Cabinet meeting, I said I would have more information about the breakout from the Value System.”
“Then let’s have it.”
Wingfield pulled open the door and nodded in a shifty-looking man in a leather jacket, blue jeans and black boots. He appeared to be a motorcyclist. TK would not have trusted him to empty a bin, let alone be a spy. The man had hard, beady eyes, a thin head and a long nose. The overall impression was of a greedy rat.
“This is Hyacint Nowak. He works in the Value System at the rank of master sergeant. By good fortune, he can give us detailed information about the breakout.”
TK stood up and shook hands with Nowak. In a gently apologetic tone, he asked the butler to leave them for a few minutes.
“I wanted Your Decency to hear it from the horse’s mouth,” Wingfield said. He gestured for Nowak to begin.
“Well Your Decency. I’ve worked in the Value System for almost seven years now. Started as an under-sergeant and now I’m a master sergeant. My point is, I know it well. There’s never been an escape. We’ve always got runaways back, or at least, what’s left of them. The marsh people that live around the Value System are not what anyone would describe as welcoming.”
“Are you familiar with the two value that escaped?”
“Yes, Your Decency. They are well known to me. I happened to be on duty when they arrived and got tagged by The Captain, so I know their real names and all about their backgrounds.”
The Captain was the name by which Nightminster was known in his Value System. Like pirates, they referred to themselves by nicknames. TK was prepared to bet this specimen before him went by the nickname Master Sergeant Ratty, or something similar.
“Good. Tell me all you know.”
“The big spay is called Antonio Kwasu Pezzini, he was Your Decency’s own chief demographer, I don’t recall The Captain ever stated what his crime was. He was tagged Zeta728. The hard case is Lawrence Morton Aldingford, tagged Zeta729. He was a cost-centre lieutenant of General Wardian glory trust. I’m certain Zeta729 was the driving force in the escape. He murdered one of the most senior value in the system, slashed this guy’s throat open with a knife. Very nasty individual.”
“Presumably they have been recovered by now?”
“The remains of Zeta728 were returned by the marsh people on Monday, Your Decency. However, Zeta729 was not returned at all. That’s never happened before—never—so it caused us problems with being unable to display the body to the population like we normally do. In the end The Captain ordered us to get a substitute cadaver, burn it and disfigure the face and put it on show. Some value weren’t convinced. I left early Wednesday morning and I was glad to get out of it. To be honest with you, I’d be surprised if we’re still in charge any more—that place was ready to explode.”
TK had been making some notes. When he finished, he looked up at Nowak.
“I must say your intelligence is of critical value. There is no need for you to go back to the Value System if you don’t want to, Wingfield will arrange for you to be suitably rewarded.” TK asked Nowak whether he had ageing parents or any young grandchildren. He told Wingfield to arrange vaccinations and medical coverage for immediate family. Nowak was effusive in his gratitude. His beady eyes shone with the joy of a new life.
Wingfield returned from having seen Nowak into the hands of a footman for escort back to Camden asylum. He found a bleak-faced TK.
“We now know something about Lawrence Aldingford we did not know before,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“He would rather die than be an ultramarine.”
“You think his escape is connected with Nightminster’s idea of getting him into the black uniform?”
TK pulled a face. “It’s bound to be, damnit. Now we have a problem again. Have you any ideas for picking him up?”
“No one’s going to be picking Lawrence up, Tommy Boy. He’ll die in the marsh, by drowning, by marsh people, by freezing to death, by starvation—he will die. It’s not possible for a lone man to cross the marshes in winter.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“I served there when I was young. No one ventures into the marshes in winter. It’s a freezing mud bath. Even in summer, with amphibious trucks, most of it is no-go.”
“If he got out, where would he go?”
“In my professional judgement, the question is not worth asking.”
“I’m asking it,” TK said, becoming irascible.
“Probably the General Wardian garrison at Peterborough. Most likely he’d get picked up as infestation and dumped on the drains.”
TK tucked his chin down and pushed the world away to think. This was an occasion when no one around him was going to help. He would have to make this
