Lom waited while Krogh examined him. His head hurt where the angel seal was set into it. A dull, thudding ache: the tympanation of an inward drum.
‘You’re either an idiot or a courageous man, Lom. Which is it?’
‘You didn’t bring me all the way to Mirgorod so you could call me an idiot.’
‘Yough!’ Krogh made an extraordinary, high-pitched sound. It was laughter. He picked up a folder that lay in front of him on the desk.
‘This is the file on you, Lom. I’ve been reading it. You were one of Savinkov’s. One doesn’t meet many. And you have talent. But still only an Investigator. No promotion for, what is it, ten years?’
‘Eleven.’
‘And three applications for transfer to Mirgorod. All rejected.’
‘No reason was given. Not to me.’
‘Your superiors in Podchornok refer to attitudinal problems. Is that right?’
Lom shrugged.
‘There’s room for men like you, Investigator. Opportunities. That’s why you’re here. Would you do something for me? A very particular task?’
‘I’d need to know what it was.’
The ache in Lom’s head was stronger now. Shafts of pain at the place where the angel stone was cut in. Patches of brightness and colour disturbed his vision. None of the angles in the room was right.
‘You’re cautious,’ said Krogh. ‘Good. Caution is a good quality. In some circumstances. But we have reached an impasse, Investigator. I can’t tell you anything until I know that you’re on my side. And mine only. Only mine, Lom.’ Krogh spread his hands. Slender hands, slender fingers, pale soft dry skin. ‘So. Where do we go from here? How should we proceed?’
‘I’ve had a long journey, Under Secretary. I’ve been on a train for the last six days. I’m tired and my head hurts. Unless you brought me all this way just so you could not tell me anything, you’d better say what this is all about.’
Krogh exhaled. A faint subsiding sigh.
‘I’m beginning to see why your people find you difficult. Nevertheless, you have a point. Does the name Josef Kantor mean anything to you?’
‘No.’
Krogh sank back, his head resting against the red leather chair-back.
‘Josef Kantor,’ he began, ‘was nineteen at the time of the Birzel Rebellion. His father was a ringleader: he was executed by firing squad. Here at the Lodka. Josef Kantor himself was also involved. He spoke at the siege of the Armoury, and drafted the so-called Birzel Declaration. Do you know the Declaration, Lom?’
‘I’ve heard of it.’
‘It’s fine work. Very fine. You should know it by heart. One should know one’s adversary.’
Krogh leaned forward in his chair.
‘We believe,’ he began in a louder, clearer voice. ‘We believe that the Vlast of One Truth has no right in Lezarye, never had any right in Lezarye, and never can have any right in Lezarye. The rule of the Vlast is for ever condemned as a usurpation of the justified government of the people of Lezarye, and a crime against human progress of the Other Rational Peoples. We stand ready to die in the affirmation of this truth. We hereby proclaim the Nation of Lezarye as a sovereign independent people, and we pledge our lives and the lives of our comrades-in-arms to the cause of its freedom, its continued development, and its proper exaltation among the free nations of the continent.’
Krogh paused. Lom said nothing.
‘Fine words, Lom. Fine words. Kantor was arrested, of course, but — and I cannot explain this, the file is obscure — his sentence was limited to three years’ internal exile. To your province, Investigator. And there he might have sat out his sentence in relative comfort and returned to the city, but he did not. He made persistent attempts to escape. He killed a guard. So. For this he got twenty years at the penal colony of Vig. Such a sentence is rarely completed, but Kantor survived. And then, a year ago, for reasons again obscure, he was simply released. He came back to Mirgorod and disappeared from our view. And also about a year ago,’ Krogh continued, ‘we began to notice a new kind of terror in Mirgorod. Of course we have our share of anarchists. Nihilists. Nationalists. There is always a certain irreducible level of outrage. But this was a new sense of purpose. Daring. Destructiveness. Cruelty. There was a new leader, that was obvious. There were names, many names: eventually we discovered they all led to one person.’
‘Kantor.’
‘Indeed. This month alone he has been responsible for the assassination of Commissioner Halonen, a mutiny at the Goll Dockyard and only last week an attack on the Bank of Foreign Commerce. They got thirty million roubles. Can you imagine what a man like Kantor is capable of, with thirty million roubles?’
‘I read about the bank raid in the papers,’ said Lom. ‘But why are you telling me this?’
Krogh waved the question away.
‘I’ve been after Kantor for a year,’ he continued. ‘A year, Lom! But I never get anywhere near him. Why?’
‘I guess he has friends,’ said Lom.
Krogh looked at him narrowly. A glint of appreciation.
‘Exactly. Yes. You are sharp. Good. I cannot get near Kantor because he is protected. By people in the Vlast — people here, in the Lodka itself.’
‘OK,’ said Lom. ‘But why? Why would they do that?’
‘I guess,’ said Krogh, ‘that some understanding of the international situation percolates even as far as Podchornok? You realise, for instance, that we are losing the war with the Archipelago?’
‘I only know what’s in the newspapers. Seva was retaken last week.’
‘And lost again the next day. The Vlast cannot sustain this war for another year. Our financial position is weak. The troops are refusing to fight. The Archipelago has proposed terms for a negotiated peace, and…’ Krogh broke off. ‘This is confidential, Lom, you understand that?’
‘Of course.’
‘The Novozhd is preparing to open negotiations. Peace with honour, Lom. An end to the war.’
‘I see.’
‘Yet there are… elements in Mirgorod — in the Vlast — elements who find the concept of negotiation unacceptable. There are those who say there should be no end to the war at all. Ever. Warfare waged for unlimited ends! A battle waged not against people like ourselves but against the contrary principle. The great enemy.’
‘But—’
‘These people are mad, Lom. Their aims are absurd. Absolute and total war is an absurd aim. Exhaustion and death. Ruin for the winners as much as the losers. You see this, you’re an intelligent man. The Novozhd understands it, though many around him do not. The negotiations must not fail. There will not be a second chance.’
‘Surely these are matters for diplomats. I don’t see—’
‘The Novozhd’s enemies are determined to bring him down. They will use any means possible, and they will work with anyone — anyone — who can further their cause.’
‘Including Josef Kantor?’
‘Precisely. Kantor is a one-man war zone, Lom. His campaigns cause chaos. He sows fear and distrust. People lose faith. The Novozhd is failing to control him. I am failing. We are all failing. The security services grow restless. People are already whispering against us. Against the Novozhd. Which of course means opportunity for those who wish to replace him. The time is ripening for a coup. This is not accidental. There is a plan. There is a plot.’
‘I see.’
‘Kantor is the lynchpin, Lom. Kantor is king terrorist. The main man. Bring him down and it all comes down. Bring him down and the Novozhd is safe.’
‘I understand. But… why are you telling me all this? What’s it got to do with me?’