The Dark River

“But that’s not going to happen, is it?” Nash sneered at Michael, making no effort to hide his contempt. “I realize that you’ve manipulated the executive board and made them frightened of a lifeless body on a table. As far as I’m concerned, Travelers have stopped being a relevant factor. That includes you-and your brother.”

“You should speak to Mrs. Brewster. I think I’m helping the Brethren achieve our goals.”

“I’ve heard about your various suggestions and I’m not impressed. Mrs. Brewster has always been a firm believer in our cause, but I think she’s done great damage by allowing you to travel around Europe and spout a lot of nonsense.”

“You were the first person to introduce me to the executive board, General.”

“That’s a mistake that will soon be corrected. It’s time you went back to the research center, Michael. Or perhaps you could just join your father in a different realm. I mean, that’s what Travelers are compelled to do. Correct? You’re genetic freaks. Just like our splicers.”

The French doors were still open, and Michael listened as the string quartet glided toward a soothing conclusion. A few seconds later, there was a slight squeal of audio feedback and then Mrs. Brewster’s voice boomed out of a portable speaker.

“Welcome,” she said, pronouncing the word with two distinct syllables. “It’s a beautiful day and a fitting conclusion to this three-day symposium of the Young World Leaders Program. I have been inspired-no, not just inspired-I have been genuinely moved by the comments I’ve heard in the garden today…”

“Sounds like Mrs. Brewster is about to begin her little speech.” Nash thrust his hands in his pockets and headed for the doorway. “You coming along?”

“That’s not necessary.”

“No, of course not. You aren’t really one of us. Are you?”

General Nash swaggered away while Michael remained behind with his father’s body. The threat from Nash was quite real, but Michael felt calm at that moment. He had no intention of returning to a guarded room, nor was he planning to float off to another realm. There was still time for some maneuvering. He had already formed an alliance with Mrs. Brewster. Now he had to get other members of the Brethren on his side. Michael found it easy to talk to anyone these days. Since he could see the subtle, split-second changes in each person’s expression, he could adjust his words to guide them in the right direction.

“So why didn’t you do that?” he asked his father. “Get some money. Get some power. Get anything. Instead you made us hide…”

Michael waited for an answer, but his father remained silent. Turning away from the body, Michael left the room and returned to the balcony. Mrs. Brewster was still giving her speech.

“All of you are true idealists,” Mrs. Brewster said. “And I salute you for your strength and wisdom. You have rejected the foolish slogans of those who advocate the so-called ‘virtue’ of freedom. And freedom for whom? For criminals and terrorists? The decent hardworking people in this world want order, not rhetoric. They are desperate for strong leadership. I thank God that all of you are ready to answer this challenge. During the next year, a European country will take the first step toward an orderly control of their population. The success of this program will inspire governments everywhere.”

Mrs. Brewster raised her wineglass. “I offer a toast to peace and stability.”

There was a respectful murmur from the crowd. All over the rose garden, other glasses flashed in the sunlight.

36

Leaving Alice on the island with the nuns, Hollis and Mother Blessing returned to London. Hollis had been in the city for only twenty-four hours, but he had already come up with a plan. One of the Free Runners, a college student named Sebastian, had fled to his parents’ house in South England, but Jugger and Roland weren’t going anywhere. Jugger spent an hour pacing around a two-room apartment in Chiswick making speeches against the Tabula and waving his hands. Roland sat on a wooden stool, hunched forward with his hands on his knees. When Hollis asked what he was thinking, the Yorkshireman spoke in a low, menacing voice. “They’re gonna pay for what they did.”

At six, Hollis went back to the drum shop to guard Gabriel. Jugger showed up four hours later and wandered around the cluttered room inspecting the African statues and tapping his fingers on the drums.

“This place is something,” he said. “Like a bloody trip to the Congo.”

As it got close to midnight the Free Runner began to get nervous. He kept eating chocolate bars and his head jerked around whenever he heard a noise.

“Do they know I’m coming?”

“No,” Hollis said.

“Why not?”

“There’s no reason to be frightened. Just tell them what you told me.”

“I’m not frightened.” Jugger stood up straight and sucked in his stomach. “I just don’t like that Irishwoman. She’d kill you if you coughed on her.”