‘How?’

‘We need to have a pre-existing power base.’

‘Not the cells,’ Bethaneve said quickly.

‘No. What I’m talking about is an alternative political organization, one that’s mutually beneficial to a democratic party. I’m thinking maybe Slvasta and Javier could start a union in Wellfield. There hasn’t been one for two centuries. Not since the weekend payment accord was signed by the guild. Then the union could sponsor candidates for the borough elections.’

‘That doesn’t give us much time,’ Bethaneve said. ‘The borough elections are only five months away.’

‘Mod shortages should be noticeable by then,’ Javier said, ‘and this train bridge problem is an excellent starting point. Everybody in Wellfield is going to work harder to get round the problem. Half the stall owners did the same as Coughlin and I today, and visited abattoirs outside the city to secure meat for tomorrow. Do you think anyone is going to be paid extra for all that overtime?’

As always at these discussions, Slvasta was annoyed with himself for not seeing the obvious until after someone else had voiced it. How come I’m always so far behind with ideas? ‘That’s excellent,’ he said. ‘We can use it to stir dissatisfaction.’

‘You mustn’t be the leaders,’ Bethaneve said. ‘Not at this early stage. There are three cell members working in the Wellfield. We’ll instruct them to start the union. You can be staunch supporters.’

‘Puppeteers,’ Slvasta said contemptuously.

‘Just like the Captain,’ Bethaneve shot back. ‘He protects himself from any criticism with layer after layer of scapegoats. Starting with Arnice. Well, that’s what we’re going to do with you.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes, you. You’re the perfect figurehead for this revolution. A regiment officer, a genuine hero who’s been out there on the front line slogging through the wilderness to scan for Falls. You’ve encountered Fallers, and escaped. And you rejected the Captain and the regiments because you know they haven’t got the interests of the people at heart – just themselves. And you’re not an aristocrat or from the merchant class; you’re an honest working man who will be a true representative of the people. People can sense that decency in you; I did the second you walked into my office. They’ll believe in you. You’re our secret weapon, Slvasta. You’re going to be this world’s first democratically elected president.’

2

It was a big day. Auspicious, even. The Watcher Guild had seen Skylords approaching ten days ago, and predicted their arrival accurately. A lot of people in Varlan were talking about the coincidence that they’d arrive on the exact centenary of Jasmine Avenue. A couple of pamphlets actually used the word: omen.

It was also a week since the Josi bridge failure. The chaos and financial strain it had created in the Wellfield market proved too much for poor old Coughlin. He chose Guidance, taking a pyre boat out onto the Colbal and freeing his soul to be Guided by the magnificent crystalline creature.

That evening, Slvasta, Bethaneve, Javier and Coulan went to the bait Philippa was running to celebrate the Skylords’ visit. It was for cover, making sure that Slvasta and Javier were seen by hundreds of witnesses, putting them beyond suspicion. Trevene’s people were already alert for any sign of protests or demonstrations of solidarity for Jasmine Avenue, Bethaneve reported. She didn’t want to give them the slightest excuse for arrests.

Slvasta conceded the logic in needing cover, even though he privately thought she was leaning towards paranoia. ‘Javier’s a stallholder now,’ he told her. ‘People aren’t going to think he killed his own mod-apes.’

‘Not now, no,’ she said. The two of them had claimed a table by themselves for once, leaving Coulan and Javier to join a group of friends clustering round the arena. ‘But when you two start to rise to prominence, the Captain’s police will investigate you thoroughly. We need to be sure they don’t find anything they can use to charge you with.’

A big cheer went up as a mod-dwarf and a pair of terriers were released into the arena. The mod-dwarf started to bleat with terror and tried to climb the smooth walls to escape. One of the terriers snapped its jaws around its foot.

‘Uracus-be-damned,’ Slvasta said. ‘You really do think of everything, don’t you?’

‘Thinking ahead is the most important part of this. I’m good at it because it’s logical – like the ultimate practical application of maths.’

‘Yeah. So what do you extrapolate in our future?’

‘You’ll get elected to Nalani council, all right. I’ve got thirteen cells covertly campaigning for us, and there are over fifty union members and their families openly canvassing the vote. Democratic Unity will win a majority, and that puts us in charge of the borough. The Citizens’ Dawn party won’t know what hit it. Actually –’ she grinned aggressively – ‘they will. Two cell members work for them, and the feedback I’ve got is that the Nalani branch are already worried – so worried they haven’t dared tell their district officers that they might lose to us.’

‘Bethaneve.’ Slvasta took her hand, and gazed right at her face with its slightly wild hair. Her cheeks were flushed from excitement and determination. ‘I meant: what about us? You and me?’ There was a real tumult in his mind. The quiet success they’d been having positioning themselves and their movement’s activists was exhilarating. They’d built a clandestine organization that could accomplish acts of sabotage without the Captain’s police realizing anything was amiss. His rage at injustice had taken on physical form, which was an almost frightening accomplishment, like discovering a new psychic power.

‘Slvasta,’ she said in dismay, ‘you and me are what this is all for. So our children won’t have to grow up in the same kind of world we did. How can you question this?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said instantly. ‘It’s just that this is all happening so fast. I guess I get a little overwhelmed at times.’

A roar of jeering and chants broke out all around the cavernous old factory as the terriers finished off the mod-dwarf. People started clustering round the bookies. More drinks were ordered.

‘I know what you mean,’ she said, her shell dropping enough to show him the sympathy colouring her own thoughts. ‘Sometimes I can’t believe what we’re doing, too. It’s like—’

‘Go on,’ he urged.

‘I’m not sure. We’ve done so much without the sheriffs or Trevene noticing. I sometimes think that maybe they have, that they’re just waiting until we commit some really blatant act, then they’ll have the excuse they want to give us life sentences at the Pidrui mines. And in a public court, too, not using some suspension order.’

‘They’ll make an example of us, you mean?’

‘Probably?’

‘If they were watching us, I’m pretty sure we’d know about it. We are being careful, and my paranoia is a big old beast.’

She touched her beer glass to his. ‘You’re the sensible one.’

‘But you have made me wonder what happened to all the previous attempts to oust the Captain. There must have been some. I don’t recall ever hearing about any in history class. Not that it was the greatest school on Bienvenido.’

‘Apart from the Jasmine Avenue revolt I haven’t heard of any. Coulan probably knows; he went to university, after all.’

‘I’ll have to ask him some time.’

‘Do that.’ She drained her beer in one.

‘Another?’

‘No.’ She thrust her face towards him, not caring about the wisps of loose hair that slipped across her eyes. ‘I think we should say crud to caution. We’ve been here at the bait as agreed. Everyone has seen us if the sheriffs ever ask them. So let’s go home now. Just you and me. And I’ll do my best to convince you how much you mean to me.’

‘Sounds good,’ he croaked.

*