The Map of Bones. Francesca Haig

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Название The Map of Bones
Автор произведения Francesca Haig
Жанр Книги о войне
Серия
Издательство Книги о войне
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007563111



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with no choice,’ he said. ‘Those who didn’t get to their own twins before The Reformer and The General did.’

      ‘What about your twin?’ I asked.

      ‘I have her,’ he said. ‘Not in the Keeping Rooms, but under guard, with soldiers I can trust.’

      I tensed my neck muscles against the shudder that rose in me. There were still nights when I dreamed I was back in the cell at the Keeping Rooms, the formless days passing, and me trapped forever, a prisoner of time.

      ‘You think that’s better than the Keeping Rooms?’

      ‘It’s safer,’ he said. ‘For her and me. The way things are at the moment, I don’t think I could protect her in Wyndham. Not even in the Keeping Rooms.’

      ‘Why have you sought us out?’ I said.

      ‘For the last few years, since I realised the extent of their obsession with the machines, I’ve been trying to gather information, learn as much as I can about their plans. I’ve tried using other seers. There’s only a handful of them. Their powers vary so much – some are of no practical use, and most of them are broken.’ He said it so offhandedly, as though when the madness claimed us, a seer was no more than a cartwheel with a broken spar, or a rusted bucket.

      ‘You, though.’ He turned back to me. ‘From what I hear, you could be of some use. And if you’re working with the resistance,’ he nodded at Piper and Zoe, ‘then there’s even more to be gained from some kind of cooperation.’

      ‘I’ve told you,’ Piper said, enunciating each syllable slowly. ‘I’m not in charge anymore.’

      ‘You don’t want to work to stop the tanks, then?’

      ‘What is it that you think you want from us?’ I interrupted.

      The four of us were circling one another, a wary dance amongst the poles, while his soldiers watched from a distance.

      ‘I need your help,’ he said, ‘to stop your twin and The General, and their pursuit of the machines.’

      It seemed absurd. He was a Councillor, soldiers and money at his command, and powerful beyond what any of us, ragged, thin and exhausted, could imagine.

      ‘You want help?’ Piper said. ‘Then ask your Council cronies.’

      The Ringmaster laughed. ‘You really think we’re one big happy family, sitting around the Council chamber backslapping one another?’ He turned from Piper to me. ‘When you were in the Keeping Rooms, who did you think The Reformer was protecting you from? A Councillor’s greatest enemies are those closest to him – those with the most to gain if he slips from power. Look at what happened to The Judge.’

      ‘Why would we help you manoeuvre against them?’ Piper said. ‘You’ve only come to us because you’re being edged out of power, and you’re desperate.’

      ‘Edged out of power?’ The Ringmaster met Piper’s gaze. ‘You’d know how that feels.’

      I interrupted him. ‘You chose to work with them, before the machines drove you apart. Why would we work with somebody who hates Omegas?’

      ‘Because I can offer your people a better life than the tanks. The refuge system has worked well for decades, as a humane way of dealing with the Omega problem. Maintained by tithes, it’s a workable solution. Without your brother and The General, things could continue the way they used to.’

      ‘That’s why I could never work with you,’ I said. ‘There isn’t an Omega problem. Only those problems that the Council’s created for us: the tithes. Pushing us further and further out, to land where nothing will grow. The branding, and all the other restrictions that make it nearly impossible to live.’

      ‘That’s all immaterial now. We both know the only thing that matters is stopping the tanks.’

      ‘Then why didn’t you just come with more soldiers,’ I said, ‘and take me back to Wyndham? With me as your prisoner, you know you could force Zach to do whatever you like.’

      ‘I would have, if I’d thought it would do me any good. Thought about killing you, too, to take him out altogether.’ He was as unapologetic as his blade itself, whose indentation I could still feel on my throat. ‘A few months ago, it might have worked. But it’s bigger than your brother, now. He allied himself too closely to The Confessor. Now she’s gone, it’s weakened his standing. The General’s been around for longer than him; she’s better established on the Council. When the two of them killed The Judge, she grabbed power, and she’s not going to let it go. If I threaten The Reformer, or even kill him, it’s not going to put a stop to this. And if The General even suspected that we were using you as a hostage to control your twin, she’d kill him herself.’

      Before I escaped from Wyndham, Zach had said to me: I’ve started something, and I need to finish it. But he was caught up now, as if trapped in the workings of one of his own machines.

      ‘Anyway,’ The Ringmaster went on, ‘you’re more use to me out here, as a contact with the resistance.’

      ‘I won’t be used.’

      I was thinking of Piper, and what he’d said to me, just a few days ago: It’s your job to endure the visions. And it’s mine to decide how we can use them. I was tired of men who saw me as a tool to be wielded.

      ‘We could benefit each other,’ said The Ringmaster. ‘We want the same thing.’

      ‘No we don’t.’ This accusation cut me more than his blade had done. ‘You want to be rid of us, just like Zach does – you just disapprove of his methods.’

      ‘Perhaps our goals diverge eventually, but right now, we both want to stop what’s happening with the tanks. So the question is, how important is that to you?’

      ‘I won’t help you.’

      Piper talked over me. ‘If we were to help you, what could you offer us in exchange?’

      ‘Information. The kind of insider details that could help the resistance to stop the tankings. The General and The Reformer might be freezing me out, but I still have access that you could only dream of.’

      ‘Information alone’s no good to us, if we can’t even act on it,’ I said. ‘There might have been a time when secret information-gathering and hiding away was enough. But our people have bled and died on the island. If you want to stop the tankings, you need to rally those soldiers loyal to you, and help us.’

      ‘You ask too much,’ he said. ‘If I take arms against your brother and The General, it’s open war. People will die – yours as well as mine.’

      ‘People have already died,’ I said. ‘And more are going to be tanked – all Omegas, eventually. It’s worse than death.’

      ‘I’m willing to help you stop it. Why won’t you do the same?’ His voice was persuasive – I could imagine him holding forth in the Council Hall. ‘These machines are powerful in ways we can’t even understand. Who knows what the tanking could do to us?’

      He was looking me in the eyes and I knew his concern was real. But I also knew that he only feared for the Alphas. His ‘us’ didn’t include the Omegas in the tanks. We were nothing more than the background noise. And I reminded myself, too, that he controlled much of the army. I thought of the soldiers I’d seen in New Hobart, whipping an Omega prisoner until the flesh of his back split like overripe fruit. I thought of the soldiers who had attacked the island. Had they reported to him, followed his orders?

      ‘You should be against the tanks because it’s wrong to torture people by keeping them underwater and half-dead,’ I said. ‘Because it’s an unspeakable crime. Not because of your fear of what the machines could do. Not because of the taboo.’

      ‘I’m not without compassion,’ he said. ‘Stopping the machines benefits Omegas too. Your people, more than anyone else, are