Evensong

He paused for effect, and perhaps to permit himself a long up-and-down look at Barbie, before continuing.

“The technology will be licensed free of charge to UN members involved in water rights disputes or suffering water shortages—if they sign up to the Agenda codes on damming and diversion, reforestation and replanting. But the Agenda codes, which once seemed essential, are now only a subset. We’re starting a project which will eventually render them unnecessary.”

“Licensing free of charge? Sounds like you’re giving a lot away.”

“Not giving, Amanda: investing.” Zaitsev modulated his voice to match perfectly the gravitas of his words, but Anwar heard what was underneath the voice. Publicly Zaitsev was the hero, and he was loving it; but he was doing Rafiq’s bidding. Rafiq’s call that morning must have left him eviscerated.

“We’re investing,” Zaitsev went on, “in a project that will deal a decisive blow to these water shortages. We’re going to create water grids. Like individual countries have electricity grids, but these won’t only span individual countries. They’ll cover entire sub-continents. They’ll need massive pipelines and pumps, and massive amounts of energy. They’ll source and distribute fresh water from streams and rivers and lakes and underground aquifers. They’ll take years to build and plan, but they’ll employ thousands and they’ll change the face of the planet! And they’ll always be associated with what we did here, this morning…”

Anwar blanked out the rest.

It seemed like a gamble for Rafiq, but Anwar knew it wasn’t. A calculated risk, maybe, but not a gamble. Rafiq would already be investing in the next generation of technology. Perhaps even the one after that. He’d never give away anything he couldn’t afford to give. He always plays long.

Anwar laughed softly to himself.

“What’s amusing you?” Olivia asked.

“This whole breakthrough,” he said. “Good news, of course, but everyone’s so surprised. It took everyone unawares. Especially Zaitsev, who’s now announcing it to a startled world like he already knew all about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“At ten this morning, he knew no more about it than you or me. He knew no more about it than your cat. But you know who did know about it, don’t you?”

“Rafiq.”

Anwar nodded, and again laughed softly to himself.

The summit had started a process that would move the

UN closer to what Rafiq always wanted it to be: a power in itself, a State among an association of States. A State with its own assets and resources and property, capable of entering into treaties with others, individually or collectively. The UN, through UNEX, would act like a State of similar power to any one of the five or six major members. It could even, at strategic times, give them a nudge.

Anwar thought, Rafiq, you clever bastard. All this and you’ve said nothing. You didn’t even need to come here.

On the face of it, Zaitsev would get the immediate credit. But below the face of it, in those dark labyrinths where real politics was done, the real players would know who was the prime mover. Rafiq’s power would grow considerably behind the scenes, which was exactly where he wanted it to grow. 

11

The main auditorium of the Conference Centre seemed unchanged on the surface: the same clean citrus air, the same swooping white and silver interior. But after the lunchtime feeding frenzy of the media, and the individual closed-door discussions where members at war with each other had examined the new initiatives from all angles and found they were still viable, there was a subsurface buzz. A feeling of euphoria and anticipation which Zaitsev, although taking care to look and sound statesmanlike, did nothing to dispel. He said nothing openly to claim credit, of course, but it was there in his posture and the timbre of his voice and his whole demeanour. He sat at the top table on the stage, still with a slight trembling, which he had probably cultivated to hint at his restrained but deeply felt emotion at making history. He spoke with a slight hoarseness which he had also probably cultivated, to hint at long and intense behind-the-scenes negotiations to bring this breakthrough to the world. A better actor than Rafiq.

“We’ve been fortunate,” he pronounced, “to have worked together on what promises to be a new way forward. What we’ll sign will necessarily be an outline only. A Statement of Intent. It will describe the big picture, but a different big picture. It will need networks of treaties, commercial agreements, and contracts to be negotiated as a result, but this will set the overall direction. This is genuinely different.