Poster boy, p.29
Poster Boy, page 29
I learned a long time ago that there are two types of people. Some, like Rosa, are flowers. They can grow to be proud and pretty, but only if conditions are perfect. A harsh frost, even a careless boot, and they wither to nothing. But some of us are weeds. We find a way to work around adversity. It doesn’t matter what you do, how hard you try to crush us; there we are, finding cracks in the concrete, rising from scorched earth. Weeds and flowers can coexist to a point. But make no mistake, the weed will strangle the bloom that stands in its way.
I watched her closely. Her reaction to the revelation about the chips was as close to explosive as I’ve ever seen her. There was still a defiant spirit in there, not quite crushed. She’d been dulling her senses with drugs, but the anger at all that had happened to her was coming close to the surface now. I still wasn’t sure whether she could be more of an asset than just a mere hostage, but I figured having her on side couldn’t hurt. If nothing else, it would be easier to hold her captive if she was compliant.
All hell was breaking lose in the media. I couldn’t hang around with Gridless too long or my absence at PID HQ would be noticed. I grabbed my coat and went to let Kyle know the latest. He was watching the news avidly.
“Well,” he said when he saw me coming, “that’s the hornet’s nest well and truly kicked. I hope we’re ready.”
The headlines running across the ticker weren’t mincing words:
GRIDLESS abducts ROSA LINCOLN. Twin sister of London Hero Jimmy Lincoln kidnapped and feared dead at the hands of Britain’s most dangerous terrorists.
GRIDLESS back and more deadly than ever.
Government issue RED ALERT. Threat level at all-time high. All patriots advised to take extra precautions.
“I guess we’ll find out,” I said. “By the way, I think Greg should look after the girl.”
“Fine by me. I’ve got better things to do than babysit.”
“I have to go. Can’t ignore work any longer, and I’m hoping I can get to see Cole later, so I won’t be back until tomorrow. Just… hole up. Make sure everyone’s gone to ground. No one makes a move until I know what Cole’s plans are.”
“No problem. Everyone’s shitting themselves. It all just got a bit real for the newbies.”
“It’ll only get worse,” I said. “Make sure they keep their heads, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep them sound. But they’re expecting a plan. They all assume you’ve got the next steps worked out, and they’re anxious to hear them. Blind trust will only last so long.”
“I’m working on it,” I said. “Just hang tight.”
Things were predictably chaotic at HQ. There was no time for anyone to get weepy over Giles, which I was thankful for. As soon as our logo had been found spray-painted beside the ambulance, Mills had hit the roof. Quite how he kept his job I don’t know. There was no spinning the fact that Gridless had been alive and growing, and they’d had no idea. That’s the trouble with lies. Sometimes those telling them start to believe themselves. No one had been looking for Gridless, because the whole PID department, with Heath’s assistance, had done such a good job convincing the country they had been defeated. They had to have been, or Cole’s credibility would have suffered. ‘Pockets of unorganised resistance’, that was the government stance on any dissenting activities that were uncovered. Now they realised they’d all fallen for their own propaganda.
There was no plan. At least, nothing beyond finding Rosa. No one could decide how to spin this, because no one (not even me) knew if she’d turn up dead or alive.
“We have to play this very smart,” Mills said, when he gathered us all together. “We have no fucking clue what these bastards are going to do with her. If we downplay the threat, and she turns up dead, we look like idiots. If we exaggerate the threat, and she comes waltzing back unharmed, we also look like idiots. We can’t afford to look like idiots. In short, we need to find the fucking girl. Priority number one is getting the media to focus on the search, shut down any stories about Gridless for now. We’ll claim that speculation could harm the investigation. It’s a matter of national security, so the press will have to comply. Official line is we are unsure if this is really a terrorist group, or some isolated bunch of thugs using their logo. That gives us the chance to go either way once the girl is found and Heath decides on the angle. What we do not want to do is commit and end up having to backtrack. We’re in enough shit as it is. Everyone understand?”
This was good. Very good. As things stood, the PIDs were waiting to see what happened to Rosa. That meant the ball was in my court. Unless of course Heath had other ideas. There was only one place he would be at a time like this: holed up with Cole drinking Scotch and mulling things over. Most likely in Cole’s private hotel suite. So as soon as I could get away that’s where I went, under the guise of being concerned about my ‘lover’.
Sure enough, there they were. Filling the air with cigar smoke and rhetoric. Cole looked pleased to see me; we’d moved into ‘my wife doesn’t understand the stress I’m under, but you do’ territory. He was treating me more like a partner than just a fuck buddy these days. It was useful, but a little sickening.
Heath beamed at me through the cigar haze.
“Zara, I’m glad you’ve turned up. Talk some sense into him, will you? After all, you must be pleased with this turn of events.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, accepting the Scotch Cole poured for me.
“Well, it proves me wrong, doesn’t it? It appears we can recycle your idea after all. And now I have something I can use against the resistance. This is lucky for both of us, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I said. “I suppose it is.”
“Lucky?” Cole scoffed. “It’s a damn disaster!”
“No, no, it’s far from a disaster. It’s a crisis!”
“Same difference.” Cole collapsed into the armchair, rubbing his temples.
“That’s where you’re wrong. A disaster is a problem. A crisis is an opportunity. Now you have a chance to resolve the issue, crush the resistance, and emerge victorious as a great and powerful leader. A magnificent story, and one with a lot of mileage. Your approval rating will be through the roof. Plus, it’ll shut down any treacherous whispers in the cabinet. You’ll be a hero.”
“I wish my department had your optimism,” I smiled. “Mills is not a happy bunny.”
“Mills is a buffoon,” Heath said, “but a loyal one. I haven’t given him any instruction yet, that’s why he’s running around like a headless chicken. I’ll meet with him tomorrow, pass on the plan… Once Jeremy’s agreed to it of course.”
“I thought the current plan was to wait and see what happens to the girl?”
“From the PID point of view, yes it is. For now. But we need a long-term strategy either way. Whatever happens with the Lincoln girl, we’re going to come out smelling of roses, I promise you that.”
I needed more than that.
“I’m curious,” I said. “Forgive me, but everyone but you seems to think this is a disaster. Proof that the chips don’t work against terrorism. How are you going to get around that?”
Cole sat forward, sighing. His expression was dark, troubled. “He wants to bring back the death penalty,” he said.
“What?” I couldn’t believe it. Heath was normally so cunning, so subtle. It wasn’t like him to make such a rash suggestion.
“Well of course it sounds ridiculous when you put it like that,” Heath chided.
“That’s what it boils down to, isn’t it?” Cole asked.
Heath chuckled. “You’ll have Zara thinking I want Tuesday afternoon hangings in the village square! He’s so dramatic, isn’t he?”
I smiled sweetly. “He just likes to be honest,” I said, stroking Cole’s arm. “He’s a man of the people after all. They love him for his plain speaking.”
“Bullshit!” Heath said. “They love him because he tells them what they want to hear. And this will be no different. You’re worried the public will think this means the chips haven’t worked? The opposite is true. The problem with the chips isn’t that they aren’t effective; it’s that the terrorists have avoided getting them. Up until now we’ve dealt with them kindly.”
Yeah, right. Letting them starve and die with no healthcare and no means to work or buy goods? How very kind.
“But this new threat just goes to prove that soft politics doesn’t work. Not everyone who refused to get chipped is a terrorist, of course. I know that. Some are just tin-foil hat conspiracy theory nutters. They thought they were making a statement, standing up for their loony left-wing principles. They’ll also welcome the proposals.”
“How do you figure that?”
“By now, they’ll have realised their mistake. They thought they were being noble, standing by the illegals they love so much. But a few years down the line, they’re starving. Living like rats. Depending on the bleeding hearts to give them scraps of food, and substandard medical aid. So I’m proposing an amnesty. For six months, anyone who was entitled to a chip but refused it, for whatever pathetic reason, can get one implanted, no questions asked. Any illegals can come forward and be voluntarily deported. We’ll lift the sanctions and stop prosecutions, for six whole months. Trust me, they’ll kiss our feet for it.
“Once the illegals have been removed, and the liberals have accepted defeat, the only people left unchipped will be the terrorists themselves. Therefore, once the amnesty is over, not having a chip will be considered an act of terrorism. And terrorism will become a capital offence, punishable by death.”
He sat back, puffing on his cigar, grinning like a Cheshire cat. This was what he wanted all along. Cole looked dubious; he didn’t think it could work. But I knew all about manipulating opinions. I knew just how sickeningly plausible it was. If Heath’s media campaign was strong enough, the public would indeed welcome the idea.
Sometimes the hype is right. Heath is a genius. How many of my recruits would stay, knowing the death penalty was coming? He wasn’t just giving Cole good publicity, he was smoking Gridless out too.
25
ROSA
I didn’t see Teresa again for several days. I didn’t leave the basement during that time either, but I didn’t mind. Greg went out of his way to make it comfortable for me. A real bed, some heating, new clothes, even a pair of Shades, though the sites I could view on them were restricted. Although I was their captive, I got the distinct impression that Gridless did not consider me their enemy. And I wasn’t entirely sure they were mine either.
On the second day, a doctor came to see me. Another one of Gridless’ surprises. I could only reason that it must be a good thing. They wouldn’t be concerned about my health if they planned to kill me. He gave me a check-up and a vitamin injection, which I have to admit did make me feel better.
Greg smiled as he brought my dinner in that evening.
“You look so much better,” he said, sitting down beside me to eat his own food. “Your eyes are brighter. It’s good to see.”
I couldn’t help but smile back. Over the next few days, we talked about everything that had happened in my life. Jimmy, my parents, Soheila. Greg told me all about his own upbringing, about being a liberal in a house of die-hard right-wingers. About his reasons for joining Gridless and how he wanted to bring down the ERP.
He had the same easy-going smile as Ted, but in his case it was combined with drive, and an almost intimidating intelligence. After spending the last few years with toppers and down-and-outs, it was refreshing to chat with someone who had it all together. Not only that, but someone who was actively trying to change things.
The world was going crazy outside my prison, over me. Greg showed me the news reports, the public appeals, even my mother’s tearful statement. But I couldn’t feel anything. They were all searching for someone, and although that someone bore my name, she was not me. They were looking for the sister of a national hero, the daughter of a loving mother, a proud Reclamationist who had denounced her Muslim former friends. I was none of those things, and I never had been.
“We’re the same, you know, Rosa,” Greg said to me on the fifth night, as we ate pizza.
“What do you mean?”
“We’re both victims of our own privilege. Both born into a situation we despise. We could have been like all the others. I could have just toed the line. Got a great job, nice house, just chose to ignore the shit going on. Because it would have been happening to other people, not me. And you could have cashed in. Become a spokesperson like your mother, lived your whole life off the back of your brother’s status. But, my conscience wouldn’t let me. Neither would yours.”
“No,” I whispered. “I’m nothing like you. You stand up for what you believe in. You risk your life for your cause. I just fell apart when it got heavy. I’m a pathetic topper waste of space.”
I couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down my cheek. Greg put down his food and moved closer to me, cupping my chin in his hands and forcing me to look him straight in the eye, even as my shame drew my gaze to the floor.
“Don’t you ever think like that,” he said. “Look what they did to you! They twisted your brother’s memory, tore your family apart. Christ, they even used your own words against you. And you had no one to turn to. Yet, despite it all, you refused to bow down and be complicit. You chose to walk away, to leave a life of comfort and privilege, rather than let them use you anymore. So you got caught up in SIGHs? So fucking what. All that proves is you’re human. We all make mistakes. It’s not the end of the world. It doesn’t have to define you.”
I’d never looked at it like that before. Was running away really an act of strength and defiance? It hadn’t felt like it. It had felt like retreating, knowing I was beat. But he didn’t see it that way. He still saw something worthwhile and courageous in me. It spurred me on to ask the question I was dreading the answer to.
“Are they going to kill me Greg? Please, tell me the truth.”
He smiled. “No. No, that’s not on the agenda.”
“Then why? Why did they take me?”
“Teresa panicked.”
I wasn’t expecting that. “What do you mean?”
Greg sighed. “Have you seen it, Rosa? Have you seen how it is for the unchipped?”
I nodded. “Yes. Well, a little. The illegals used to trade with us, food for SIGHs.”
“But have you ever been there? Starving, I mean? Unable to find the means to feed your children, scared to even beg in case the man in the street turns you in? Terrified you’ll catch an infection from the filthy conditions you live in, knowing you’ll die if you do because there’s no healthcare?”
“No,” I confessed. “No, I can’t… I can’t imagine what that’s like.”
Greg nodded. “We do what we can for them. Most of our members are chipped, you know? Working legitimate jobs, putting themselves on the line by stealing medicines from the hospitals they work at, or food from the shelves they stack. They do it to help those who can’t get chips.”
A penny dropped. “Zachary!” I said.
“Yes, that’s right. He was desperate to get off the grid, get rid of his chip and join the fighters on the ground. But, before that, he used his job to help get lifesaving supplies. But it’s not enough. There’s too many suffering, there’s too much need. We can’t carry on this way much longer. Everyone was looking to Teresa for some sort plan, an endgame. They all joined with the intention of stopping the ERP, of helping to build a better society. Many of them took out their chips so they could fight the fight without being tracked. Now they’re feeling the pinch too, and with the amnesty Cole’s proposing it’ll only get worse. So we can’t wait much longer. The time to act is now.”
“And where do I fit in?”
“Teresa saw an opportunity, a chance to show the recruits some action, to force Cole to move against us, so that we could take advantage.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s not easy, you know, working for the enemy. She and I need to be seen to be doing our jobs well in order to avoid suspicion. And our job is to promote Cole, keep public opinion on his side. Kidnapping you gives us the chance to do that, once you’re found safe and well, that is.”
It didn’t make any sense. “Why do you want the public on his side? Surely it would be best if he just lost the next election? Get a new PM, maybe a better one?”
Greg smiled slowly. “Meet the new boss, same as the old boss?” he asked. “No. No, he can’t be allowed to just slink off into the night, tail between his legs, to go lick his wounds in some disgusting den of opulent decadence. Not after all he’s done. And do you know why?”
I shook my head. “Why?” I whispered.
“Because then they’ve got a licence to do whatever the fuck they want. Free fucking reign, with no accountability at the end of it. No. It can’t be. He has to pay. Has to. Because they have to know we’re watching. They have to know we know. And we won’t stand for it. We can’t allow for this to happen again, the cycle needs to stop. We have to tell people the truth, all of the truth. And we have to do it right, because we’ll only get one shot. They’ll make fucking sure of that.”
There had to be something I was missing. “What truth?” I asked.
He exhaled and stood up. He was shaking.
“I’ve said too much,” he said, making for the door. “It’s not my place. I think I’d better let Teresa handle this from now on.”
And just like that, I was alone again.
26
TERESA
“You fucking told her what?”
He was supposed to babysit her, butter her up. Make sure she had the vitamin injections, laced with a little medical grade G to make her more compliant. Flatter her, stroke her fragile ego, but not give the fucking game away. Not yet. Not until I knew she could be trusted.
“I haven’t told her everything, I swear. But honestly, Teresa, you need to go see her. She’s ready, I’m telling you.”
