Jane Higgins - The Bridge

I waited for someone to appearbut no one did, so I stumbled over and gave the door a push. Daylight came crashing in. It hammered my eyes and I threw up, which left me gasping. I crawled outside and put my face to the sun. I sat there with my eyes closed, letting the warmth soak into me and unknit the knots in my bones. Mending. The air was warm; it was one of those autumn mornings that made you want to skip class and head up to the heath. A shadow fell on me. I opened an eye.

‘Jeitan,’ I croaked. My mouth felt like paper. ‘Looking sharp, as always. Can you stand out of my sun?’

‘What the hell are you doing here? The hearing has started. They sent me to get you and you’ve been bloody nowhere. Come on!’

I shook my head.

He crouched in front of me. ‘Gods, you stink! You’re drunk! You’re not fronting up like this.’

‘Don’t intend to. I’m not going.’

‘Don’t be funny. They’ll drag you in there if they have to.’ He looked furious. ‘Alcohol’s forbidden here. You must know that?’

Right. Like knives.

‘And you know what’s at stake!’

I closed my eyes. ‘I don’t care. It’s your fight. Go away and fight it without me. Just get out of my sun.’

‘Not a chance. You are going to that hearing.’ The voice of conviction, unfortunately. ‘Come on, you’re getting cleaned up.’

I thought about just staying put, but I knew he really would drag me there if he had to. And I hurt too much for that. ‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ll go if you do me a favor.’

‘A what? You can’t be serious.’

‘I am, though.’

He sighed. ‘What do you want?’

‘Ask at the hearing about Remnant’s windfall.’

‘What? Why?’

‘It’ll take the heat off me.’

‘Council doesn’t work that way. Levkova might raise it. I asked her to. But I doubt she will.’

‘You and your lines of command. How do you ever get anything done? Okay, let’s go and see.’

He shadowed me to my shed, shoved a spare set of clothes at me and pushed me into the washroom. I peeled off my alcohol-sodden gear, winced a bit, craved a hot, or even a luke-warm shower, dragged on clean clothes and emerged to a watch-tapping Jeitan. ‘You still look like shit,’ he said.

‘Yeah. Sorry.’

‘And you’re walking like someone stood on you.’ When I didn’t answer he said, ‘Are you going to tell me this isn’t just the after-effects of cheap juice?’ I couldn’t see the point in having this argument and besides I was trying to focus on why I’d ever thought turning up for the hearing was a good idea.

Remnant, of course. I had to find out what I could about them, and get a look at their leaders. And I had to hope that someone would challenge them on their rumored windfall. And I had to avoid getting either cast out or shipped off to Gilgate.

Jeitan was busy grumbling. ‘Go on. Tell me. One of your drinking buddies take a swing at you? Who was it? What did you do to deserve it?’

But we’d arrived and I didn’t need to answer.

We stopped at the end of a long corridor that was almost empty. We were at the end of the south wing of the main building and we seemed to have left behind all the people hurtling about clutching urgent memos or waving the latest incoming from over the bridge. A bored guard slouched in front of a heavy wooden door. He nodded to Jeitan and frisked me. Felt like he hit every bruise. And he found Coly’s knife.

‘Ah,’ said Jeitan, as if this confirmed his high opinion of me. ‘Anything else?’

‘No,’ I said.

He gave me a what-are-you-hiding? sort of look.

‘Nothing!’ I said.

But he shook his head. ‘I was right, wasn’t I? Someone took a swing at you. Come on.’ He pushed open the door. ‘In.’ He nodded for the guard to follow us.

Levkova was there. And Commander Vega. They were sitting at a long table with a motley collection of others – twelve in all. Lanya stood at the head of the table flanked by a tall, fine-boned woman, a Pathmaker for sure. When we came in everyone turned, like puppets on a single string, to stare at us.

This was their Council room, but in its doppelganger over the river I knew it as the staff library. And maybe it had been a library here too: empty shelves lined the walls and the air had that musty old-book smell. The room was all dark wood, real wood. Tall windows reached up to a high ceiling but all except two were boarded up. Sunlight poured through those two onto the table, casting the rest of the room into shadow. No rugs, pictures, or books in sight. The room was stripped, like the rest of that place, hunkered down without extras of any kind. Battle-ready.

One of the men, a bull of a guy – huge shoulders, no neck – beckoned me over and spoke to Vega.

‘This him?’

‘It is.’

‘And you brought him across.’

‘I put him in a squad. We lost five people on Saturday. Replacements are hard to find.’

‘A question of judgment, Commander. Poor in this case.’

‘With respect, Councillor, nothing has been proved.’

‘We’ve seen the digi-graph—’

‘Shadows.’

‘And he was seen drunk last night.’

So the vodka wasn’t just someone being clumsy. ‘Who by?’ I said.

They looked at me like I was from off-planet. No-neck said, ‘Be quiet.’

‘And at the Crossing?’ said a man down the end of the table. ‘Drunk then too, I suppose. And the girl?’

‘She gave me food when I was hungry,’ I said. ‘That’s all. And I wasn’t drunk.’

No-neck barked, ‘ I said, be quiet! ‘

I looked at Lanya. She was staring at the table. The woman beside her put an arm around her shoulders. ‘We have no doubt where the blame lies, Councillor.’

Then, as if they’d rehearsed it, the door guard said, ‘Sir, found this on him.’ He tossed Coly’s knife on the table. It spun and slowed to a stop, neatly folded and lethal, its tiny flick-switch glinting.

Twelve pairs of eyes accused me of crimes against decency and clean living.

No-neck sat back, folded his arms, and smirked.

Vega sighed. ‘You’ve proved nothing. He’s a scavenger. You may loathe that – I do – but it’s no surprise he carries a knife. It doesn’t mean he used it on the girl.’ He glanced at Lanya. She gave a single shake of her head. Her keeper glared at me.

They launched into an argument about whether they could believe Coly’s evidence, and whether scum from Gilgate should ever be allowed into Moldam. I moved three paces to the wall and leaned on it. It was either that or fall over.

When I looked up they were still in full cry, except Levkova, who was watching me. I looked away, back to the action and wondered how grim it could all get. Very grim, was my guess. And if they hauled Fyffe in and quizzed her, we were dead. Her Breken wasn’t fluent enough and we hadn’t put together any kind of backstory these people would believe.

I focused on No-neck; I recognized his voice. This was Terten, the guy who’d heavied Levkova in the CommSec office a few nights before. A Remnant bullyboy. I wondered if he had Sol hidden somewhere. And if he did, had he seen him or talked to him? Or would the actual living, breathing child that was Sol be so far down the line that this guy could profit from him and never even know who he was?

Terten was enjoying himself. He stood up and leaned over the table. ‘This much is clear. You, Commander Vega, are not fit to head this Council.’ He turned to the rest of the table, opened his arms wide and launched into full preacher mode. ‘My friends, we must not stumble now.’

‘We are not stumbling!’ said Vega.

But Terten rolled on. ‘Our victory lies in God’s hands. But here is dishonor at our very heart. Sin of the most shameful kind has wormed its way into our core…’