‘You’ll have to go pretty far to find that,’ Beth muttered, playing for time.
‘We are going very far away,’ Ezard told her seriously. His meaning sank in.
‘Seriously? You people are more deluded than I thought. Why her anyway?’
‘She is of the Divine Mother’s line, part of her. Within her is the code that opens the way.’ This didn’t mean anything to Beth.
‘And you know this how?’
‘The Divine Mother speaks to me in my dreams, and then I speak those dreams.’
‘Assuming I believe this, and everything’s a bit weird at the moment so why not, the problem is a little thing called consent. Whatever you think you’re doing, you can’t just go around kidnapping goths. She’s had a rough enough time recently without being held prisoner by some kind of crazy star cult.’
‘It’s okay, Beth. I am loved here.’ Talia: wan, pale, tired-looking but even in the grey light still beautiful, Beth had to admit. She was in the same hospital-like gown they’d found her wearing in the lock-up. She stepped up onto the outcrop and patted the servitor like it was a pet. Beth sighed, felt her heart drop and lowered the UMP. She saw what was coming. ‘I am to be their ship queen.’ Beth suddenly felt so very tired. The adrenaline bled from her, and she felt close to collapse and very, very hungry.
‘Talia, come on. Please, let’s just go,’ Beth managed.
‘I can’t; they need me.’
‘You have no idea what I have gone through…’
‘Can’t you just be happy for me? I have found my place. You will too one day.’
Shooting Talia was only a passing thought, Beth told herself as she tried to remain calm.
‘You’ve really outdone yourself this time, haven’t you? Not satisfied with abusive boyfriends who nearly beat you to death, with pimps and mobsters… no, you have to go and find a cult of fucking sea monsters? How are you going to top this? Date Satan?’
‘I don’t think Satan is re—’
‘The thing is, Talia, you are loved. I don’t know why you don’t think you are – maybe we aren’t as interesting as some cult living in a weird thing in the fucking Solent – but every time you do something like this it causes pain, and then we have to come and sort it out for you.’
‘I never asked you for anything,’ Talia said. Beth could still hear the petulance and wondered if this lot knew what they had let themselves in for.
‘We’re sisters.’
‘You know that’s not true, and I’ve always known.’
‘We’re sisters in every way that matters. Now, please… I’m tired and I want to go home, and your dad would probably like to hear from you before he dies.’
Tears sprang up in Talia’s eyes. ‘Why are you doing this to me?’
That was it. ‘To you!’ Beth was incredulous. ‘To you?’ Now angry. ‘Think beyond yourself for just one moment!’
‘Do you know what’s fucking happened to me?!’
Ezard and the hybrids were just listening. There was that air of discomfort that comes from outsiders witnessing a domestic row.
Beth took a step forward, jabbing her finger at Talia, the hybrids moving out of her way. It all came back to her. Talia’s unconscious body as she went after Davey. Seeing her own sister testify against her. Dad in his chair, the look of disappointment in his eyes. Flashes of the violence across Portsmouth to try and get her back. The people hurt or terrorised along the way.
‘You selfish fucking bitch! I keep waiting for you to grow up, to realise that there are other people in the world! That we’re not all here just to play roles in your next fucking self-destructive drama! Where… where… you try and cause as much pain as you fucking can because that’s the only way you think that you can matter to other people! You fucking victim!’ As she finished her rage bled out of her.
Talia’s face was a mask of cold fury.
‘Flush her and shit her out,’ she said imperiously.
Something like a sphincter opened above her. Hybrids dived from the bony outcrop as liquid hit her, blasting her off the outcrop like a riot cannon.
The feeling of connection to something overwhelmed her. The connection in her blood, the same shared flesh that was technology, made her feel the wakening of a massive and ancient intellect. It overwhelmed her thoughts as she was consumed.
Somewhere else.
They felt their sister through red dreams in monstrous, corrupted and insane minds. They reached for her, to make her like them. Now all could wake and grow and spore. They felt something in their seeds, some parasitical life.
The sound of metal on metal.
‘’Ere, it’s not firing. Is it broken?’
‘How can I be of assistance in my robbery and murder?’ du Bois asked as he turned to look at the man.
‘Oh, the safety’s on.’ There was another metallic click. ‘Should you be moving your head like that with a spinal injury?’
It was agony, but du Bois brought his right arm across his body so his hand was aimed at the thief.
‘Seriously mate, you’ll do yourself a mischief.’
‘You are about to shoot me with my own carbine, yes?’
‘True,’ the thief conceded and aimed the weapon at du Bois again. The shrouded snub-nosed .38 slid out of his sleeve on the hopper with a thought. He fired the revolver twice. Even the tiny recoil of the .38 was enough to cause him agony. The thief disappeared from view. Du Bois knew he had hit him. In the face and the upper right arm. The face could have been a graze though. He heard the splash as the thief hit the water, and then thrashing and what sounded like the mewling of a wounded animal.
‘You shot me,’ the thief squealed.
‘Funny, that,’ du Bois said from the top of the Range Rover. He was now putting all the effort he could into moving. It was agonising. ‘What do you think caused me to do that?’ he managed through gritted teeth.
Du Bois slid off the roof of the Range Rover and landed in about a foot of water. Pain lanced through him and he blacked out for a moment. He came to next to the thief. His right arm was a mess and looked like it was hanging on by only a tendon or two. The face shot was just a graze or the glaser round would have killed him.
‘You shot me!’ the thief said again between piteous cries.
‘You can go into shock, you know,’ du Bois told him. ‘Oh, never mind.’ He managed to get both arms up. The two .38s slid out and Du Bois shot the man ten times. He was dead after the first. Du Bois stared at the man with undisguised contempt. Then he slumped against the Range Rover in the water. Soon he’d be able to walk. Waves were coming up Alhambra Road now. He’d left his mark on this city. The Solent was muddy and stormy-looking under a clear blue sky.
Du Bois looked back at the dead man. Had it always been this easy for him to kill, he wondered? He had murdered the thief in a fit of temper and he knew it. Was it just a case of asking a god he knew did not exist for forgiveness and then getting on with the rest of his day?
Du Bois reloaded the .38s, not so much feeling guilty as worried by the absence of guilt. They slid back up his sleeves and he grabbed the FAL. Du Bois forced himself painfully to his feet. He managed to lean into the Range Rover and grab some more ammunition for the carbine before turning and limping towards the sea.
Gone. Separated from it. For a moment she’d felt its mind; for a moment she’d touched her sister’s mind. Then she was outside. She was in the cold and the dark, the weight of the water pressing down on her. She was too tired to fight as violent current after violent current kicked her around.
Suddenly she was sucked upwards, the force inescapable. Her lungs felt like they were being crushed. Soon it would be time to try and breathe water.
Then she was in the air but still in the water. Then falling.