Fall Revolution 4: The Sky Road

accident that had nothing to do with us. It’s a
dangerous sport, deer-hunting.’
    ‘And I would go along with your story, or join him at
the bottom of a cliff?’
    ‘Something like that.’
    ‘What,’ I asked, trying to keep my voice from
betraying my rage and fear, ‘is important enough to justify
doing something like that, now?’
    ‘Ah.’ Fergal frowned. ‘He – and you
– have arrived at a very awkward moment. We’ve found
something in the files that Menial retrieved – something
we’ve been missing for a very long time, and which we only
recently realised might be stored at the University, of all
places. We – ’
    He paused. ‘ Let’s just say we’d lose a lot
if anyone started poking around now. There’s obviously an
investigation going on, and we really aren’t in a position
to resist any intrusion in force.’ He dusted his palms and
stood up, laying the rifle carefully aside across the sink,
within his reach and out of mine. ‘Which is where you come
in, Clovis. Obviously we don’t want to kill Drain, or
yourself.’
    ‘If you can possibly avoid it.’
    ‘Exactly!’ he smiled, damning himself with his
grin. ‘No need for any of that. You’re an intelligent
bloke, Clovis, and you can help us. All you have to do is
persuade Drain that there’s nothing here to threaten the
project, and that he should leave well alone.’
    ‘That shouldn’t be hard,’ I said. ‘And
Drain shouldn’t worry you. Even if he is what you say,
he’s only doing his job. And speaking of jobs, I’ve
just lost mine and I want an explanation. As well as the files
you took, and a chance to speak to Menial.’
    Fergal nanowed his eyes. ‘Menial might not want to speak
to you.’
    That’s for her to say.’
    ‘As for the files – ’
    He frowned, considering. I got the impression that he was
beginning to feel the files were turning out to be more trouble
than they were worth.
    ‘Look,’ I said, ‘I understand why you feel
they’re yours. But they’re not mine to let you have,
or yours to take. The Deliverer left them to the University, not
to the Fourth International.’
    Fergal jumped up as if he’d sat on a wasp.
    ‘Who told you about the Fourth International?’
    I shrugged. Tm a historian,’ I said. ‘It’s
common knowledge among scholars.’
    This double lie deflated Fergal somewhat. He sat back down and
eyed me warily.
    ‘So what do you know about it?’
    ‘It’s a communist secret society that goes back to
before the Deliverer’s time.’
    ‘Hmm,’ he said. He rubbed an eyelid.
‘That’s about right. Though „communist“
doesn’t really tell you what it’s all about, these
days.’ He laughed harshly. ‘God, I sometimes feel if
we could get capitalism back – ’
    ‘The Possession?’ I asked incredulously.
    ‘Well, you would call it that. Let me tell you, it would
be better than this dark age you people have got yourselves
bogged down in.’
    ‘This is a dark age?’ I laughed in his face.
‘We’re building a spaceship not fifty kilometres from
here.’
    ‘Oh, Christ.’ Fergal knotted his fists.
‘Aye, building it out of boiler plate. You build
everything, up to crude atomics and even fucking laser-fusion
engines with skills handed down from master to apprentice.
Compared to the ancients, you people are complete barbarians.
Compared to what you could be – ’
    He sighed and stood up, and began pacing the room like a beast
in a cage. ‘You could have a world where nobody has to do
any work that isn’t like play, where almost any sickness or
injury could be mended, where nobody has to die, where we live
like gods and fill the skies with our children’s children.
Instead we have this.’ He smacked his palm with his
fist and looked around with an expression of disgust.
    ‘And who would do the work in this paradise?’ I
asked, perhaps more offensively than I intended.
    ‘Machines, of course. Every bit of work in the world can
be done by machines, linked up and coordinated.’
    ‘Oh, right,’ I said, disappointed. ‘The path
of power.’
    ‘It doesn’t have to be like that, next time
– ’
    ‘Next time?’
    Fergal leaned over the table on his fists, in a manner
simultaneously intimidating and confidential. ‘That’s
what the International exists for: the next time. The next chance
humanity has to break out of this prison. Our time will come,
again. And next time, we’ll be ready.’
    I