A copter hangs directly over the houses we’re approaching. Most of the crowd are busy pointing at the roof of the one in the middle, where a single figure edges along a balustrade, before dropping from sight.
A second later, he reappears.
There’s no balustrade on this house to protect him from falling. Just a drop to the road and his audience below. Half of Farlight has turned out for Colonel Vijay’s last performance. Including the Wolf, who stands scowling in his scout car, surrounded by his men who keep the crowd back.
‘Shit,’ Rachel says.
A low moan, somewhere between upset and excitement, sweeps the crowd as Colonel Vijay begins climbing the tiles towards a roof light and slips slightly. His fingers grab at the tiles, but he can’t get a grip.
‘Oh fuck,’ Neen says.
Doubt he knows he’s said it.
Tiles come loose as Vijay’s slide gets faster.
My plan’s fucked. The thought comes as one of his feet clips guttering, which breaks away and begins to fall. He’s going over the edge, when his other foot hits the bracket that held the guttering in place and his slide stops.
The crowd sighs.
Very slowly, Colonel Vijay reaches for a handhold and restarts his climb.
‘Well,’ says the SIG, ‘that was exciting . . .’ Telling me to watch the Wolf, it blips a laser dot on his helmet and removes it just as quickly. ‘Ninety-nine yards, one foot, eight inches,’ it says. ‘Barely worth aiming.’
General Luc is now smiling. So I imagine his earlier scowl was at the thought of not being able to slaughter Vijay Jaxx himself.
‘One shot,’ the SIG says. ‘How hard can it be?’
‘That’s not why we’re here.’
‘Kill Luc. Save Vijay.’
‘Enough . . .’
‘Just saying.’
‘Well don’t, all right?’
‘You know,’ it snarls, ‘I think I preferred Aptitude.’
As we watch, Colonel Vijay claws his way to the roof light, and punches out the glass. Even at this distance we hear it shatter, before we see him roll over the window’s lip and disappear into an attic below.
The colonel must know he is trapped. I’m not sure what he found downloading those data cores of Morgan’s . . . May the bastard sleep badly and have a hideous life next time. But it’s got the plotters riled. Unless this really is just about killing Indigo Jaxx’s son.
One of the copters watches the front.
Another watches the river behind, while a third locks off the far end of the embankment and a fourth locks off the nearer end. A fifth wasp hangs right overhead. That one flies the pennant of Sebastian Thomassi from its tail.
Now is when we need the anti-tank rifle I wanted earlier.
The crowd knows Vijay Jaxx is cornered. Pushing and shoving, they jostle for a better position, hoping to get close to the steps leading to the house where he’s taken refuge. It’s like watching water come to the boil. Everyone is waiting for a sign. It comes when a man climbs the steps and turns to bless us.
The Archbishop of Farlight.
As one, the crowd bow their heads.
Every single word that man says is a lie.
I refuse to believe this dawn is glorious, that the collection of whores, looters, pickpockets and rapists around me is anyone’s army for freedom, or that those who follow Sebastian Thomassi are doing God’s will.
Bullshit, the lot of it.
The person behind Augustus, Archbishop of Farlight, convinces me of that. And if he wasn’t proof enough, the U/Free next to him is.
The last time I saw her, Emerald Schott was wearing a dress made from slashed red silk. More slashes than silk. Certainly enough to show her breasts, all four of them . . . It was at a party in Letogratz. Tonight she’s wearing something simpler.
Black, low-cut, but almost decent.
Next to Paper Osamu’s mother-in-law stands Federico fucking Van fucking Zill, wearing a suit, dark glasses and a smirk.
‘Sir,’ Neen says.
He’s waiting for orders.
‘Nothing we can do,’ Anton says. ‘Vijay knows that. He wouldn’t want you to sacrifice the Aux. We’ve still got time to get away.’
Anton is right. If we walk now, we can make it out of the crowd while the Wolf’s attention is still on Colonel Vijay. But then, if I mug him, the rest of us can change our faces and names and live out our lives in luxury.
I’d no more do that than desert.
Besides, I gave Aptitude my word.
‘We’re probably going to die here.’ Don’t imagine I’m telling them anything they haven’t worked out for themselves. ‘Anyone who wants out, step back now.’
No one moves.
Not even Iona, who’s sobbing.
If at first you don’t succeed, destroy the evidence that you tried.
When the crowd get bored trying to pry-bar their way into the house where Colonel Vijay is trapped, someone drops the bar down a drain and sends for explosives. That’s what a woman in front of us says. She’s heard it from a man in front of her.
‘Must be true then.’
There’s a sourness to Neen’s voice that makes her look away.
‘Explosives coming through.’
My gun begins its chant and those nearest us suddenly decide we must be the ones bringing the means to blow down that door. They part willingly.
‘SIG . . .’
‘Just trying to do my bit.’
As the four-breasted U/Free mutters anxiously to Van Zill, the Archbishop of Farlight stares at the disturbance we’re causing, obviously wondering what’s going on. Pretty soon, General Luc is going to stop looking hungrily at that door and start wondering what’s going on as well.
Happens sooner than I’d like.
A shout goes up that the explosives are coming. And it’s enough to attract the Wolf’s attention.
‘Fuck,’ Anton says.
The SIG shivers in my grip.
Yeah, I know. We’ve been seen.
On the far side of the crowd, General Luc snaps out an order and his men start to move. They head for the steps. Same as we do. The Wolf follows, seemingly oblivious of those who scatter to avoid being crushed by his wheels.
Fifty paces from the steps, Luc realizes we’re going to get there first.
He mutters an order to the man jogging beside his vehicle, and Sergeant Toro snaps out an order of his own. A second later, the sergeant and a splinter group cut free from the Wolf Brigade and start pushing towards us.
‘Two o’clock.’
‘Seen them,’ I tell the SIG. ‘Keep scanning.’
And then something happens that changes it all.
The crowd don’t realize at first. Because half are watching us, and the rest are watching General Luc or his splinter group. But inside the house someone slams back heavy bolts and the door begins to open.
‘Fuck,’ says the SIG.
Hard to disagree.
Stamping onto the top step, Colonel Vijay clips down his boots as if he’s on parade. Only then does he lift the hand hanging at his side. His opening shot drills Emerald Schott through the head.
So fast and clean is it she remains standing for a second, with a neat hole in one side of her skull and a bigger hole in the other. The Archbishop of Farlight is wiping his face frantically. He’s wearing most of her brains.
Colonel Vijay’s second shot kills Van Zill.
Personally, I’d have taken the archbishop before that scumbag, but it’s the colonel’s call. I think he’s forgotten about Emerald’s implant.
Not a bit of it.
Rolling her over, he drops to one knee and puts his gun to the back of her skull. His next shot blows the implant apart. Killing a U/Free and destroying her memories. Vijay Jaxx just made himself a galactic outcast.
‘Interesting move.’
Even the SIG sounds impressed.
‘Sven,’ Colonel Vijay says. ‘Thought I told you to get out of here?’
Now the crowd know we’re not bringing explosives. I’m about to say, Did you, sir? when three things happen at once.
The first militia officer to raise his rifle goes down with a broken knee and a blade in his shoulder. Ajac’s looking shocked, but then it’s his blade and he forgot to keep hold of it. So now it juts from the screaming officer.
Ajac catches the spare Iona throws.
The archbishop begins to back away. That’s the second. The third is that General Luc arrives just as Colonel Vijay points his gun at the archbishop.
‘Don’t,’ the Wolf says.
This is a man used to being obeyed.
And Colonel Vijay does obey. Nodding, he lowers his weapon and the crowd surge forward. Actually, four things happen.
If not five.
‘No one will touch Jaxx,’ the Wolf announces. To back it up, his corporal turns his machine gun to cover the crowd.
‘My son-’ the archbishop says.
A second later he’s reeling down the steps into the increasingly puzzled crowd. General Luc having just slammed his elbow into the archbishop’s head. The final thing is that my gun shivers to let me know Luc’s splinter group are behind us.
Not that I’m bothered.
We’re Aux. We don’t retreat anyway.
‘Flechette,’ I say, then change my mind. ‘Make that incendiary.’
The SIG-37 whirs as it does what it’s told. A diode lights to say it’s loaded and a little red dot appears between General Luc’s eyes. When he twitches, I know the SIG’s made the dot hot this time.
It likes doing that.
‘Earth to Sven,’ my gun says.
‘Sir,’ I say. ‘Stand away.’ I mean Colonel Vijay, obviously. ‘And you,’ I tell the Wolf. ‘Stand your men down.’
Grey eyes watch me.
His lip curls beneath his heavy beard.
And then his gaze flicks behind me and I feel the cold kiss of an automatic to the side of my head. A second later, it jags slightly. So I’m obviously supposed to have done more than simply notice it.
‘Drop your piece.’
Sergeant Toro holds a Colt, with underslung sight, and a clip that juts indecently beneath its handle. But it’s a single clip, with hollow-point at the most.
There’s no way I’m backing down.
‘Covered, sir.’
Neen has his rifle to Sergeant Toro’s head. Although a Wolf Brigade corporal is pointing a rifle at him. I try to see who’s targeting the corporal. Only, I don’t want to turn my head that much.
‘Got him covered,’ Anton says.
I do the maths. Luc dies, I die, their sergeant dies, Neen dies, their corporal dies, Anton dies . . . Would help if I knew how many Wolf Brigade are behind me. Iona and Rachel, definitely dead.
Maybe Ajac.
The question is whether Vijay can be saved.
Back when I joined the Legion my old lieutenant tried to teach me chess. Good players take and lose as few pieces as possible. Until they’re ready to roll up the opposition. Drunk or sober, but usually drunk, he’d win, no matter how many pieces he gave me first.
He played the long game.
I killed the first pawn to offer itself.
Looking round, it occurs to me I’ve improved. Maybe not by enough, though. Since my instinct is to pull the trigger. Don’t want to get this wrong.
‘Sir,’ says Neen. ‘How are we going to play this?’
Ignoring the weapons completely, someone slides through the crowd and stops at my side. ‘The long game’s waiting,’ Leona whispers. ‘If you want it.’