Soul Fire

firecracker throwing. The dogs are so used to it
that they don’t even flinch when the bangers explode.
    ‘So you were telling us about the conference?’ Ade says to Lewis as we sit down.
    ‘Yeah, yeah. Like I said, the lines are blurring. Cowboys and Indians, goodies and baddies. That’s a bit last century. Now you don’t know who the enemy is.’
    Ade is nodding. ‘So some of the delegates might be hackers?’
    ‘Definitely. Or spies. Both at the same time, in some cases. There’s more intrigue at the W Hotel tonight than in your average Bond movie.’
    I’ve never heard Lewis talk quite like this before: he’s out to impress his audience. And maybe one person in particular. Though Zoe is still not looking at him.
    ‘But where do you stand morally ?’ Sahara asks.
    Lewis smiles. ‘They say the web is a morality-free zone. That’s what I mean about the goodies and baddies. There’s absolutely no black-and-white online. I definitely
don’t support the overthrow of democratic governments. Or cyber-terrorism. But look at something like Wikileaks. I’m a fan of openness.’
    ‘Even though openness might lead to people getting killed? Some of the leaks revealed state secrets,’ Zoe says. I’m pretty sure it’s the first time she’s addressed
him directly.
    He smiles at her. ‘Information is neutral. It’s what you do with it that counts. And it’s not just the high profile ops that make a difference. One person acting alone can
change stuff. There’s a coder I really admire at the moment who is keeping everyone guessing about a miscarriage of justice case. It’s a pretty obscure European thing . . .’ he
looks at me, ‘but this coder keeps drip-feeding information. She could really make a difference.’
    ‘She?’ Zoe’s voice sounds strangled.
    I try to catch Lewis’s eye but he looks past me. Is this the right way to do it?
    He laughs. ‘Oh, there are plenty of geeky girls out there now – though it’s only my hunch in this case, based on the many levels of the site. It’s intricate, like . . .
embroidery.’
    ‘You’re a sexist, Lewis,’ Cara says, teasing him.
    Lewis grins back. ‘Yeah, that’s me. But it’s definitely the site of a multi-tasker, and you know how crap we men are at that. Plus there’s the username, too.’
    Zoe takes a swig of her absinthe. ‘What is it?’
    Lewis looks at each of us in turn, and ends up staring at Zoe again. ‘It’s funny. I didn’t know what it meant, at first. Then I Googled it. Perhaps she’s French. Her
name’s la Fée Verte . It means the Green Fairy.’
    I watch Zoe’s face. Is that a tiny muscle twitching under her eye? I check the others: Sahara looks intrigued, Cara bored, Ade amused.
    ‘Well, that’s got to be a girl. Or a gay man who worries about the environment,’ Ade says, pleased with his joke.
    ‘Actually,’ says Zoe, draining her glass, ‘it’s the old French nickname for absinthe. Because it’s famous for being hallucinogenic, for making people see things that aren’t there at all. ’
    She’s staring back at Lewis. Is she playing along – or warning him off? Zoe is so unpredictable that I’m scared he’s screwed everything up, like I did with Gabe.
    I wait to see who blinks first.
    A flash of light blinds me momentarily, followed by a bang. A firecracker has exploded right next to our table, and we hear laughter as a small girl in a flowery dress runs back to her
friends.
    Sahara shrieks, then laughs when she realises what it was.
    ‘So where are we going to go after this?’ Cara is asking. ‘Have you got a “hottest-clubs-for-hot-Spanish-guys” app on your phone, Lewis?’
    By the time I look back at Lewis and Zoe, they’re no longer trying to outstare each other. But my instinct tells me that something has started, here, tonight – and I can’t tell
yet whether it’ll help me find what I’m searching for, or close the door for good.

38
    I’m falling.
    The street below is brutally shiny with cobbles. No, not cobbles.
    Flames. They glow blood-red, lapping hungrily at my clothes, my skin, my hair.
    I wait for the impact, for the end. But the fire pit has no floor. The flames are coming from the centre of the earth and I’m falling, falling, FALLING . . .
    ‘. . . wake up, please, Alice! Stop screaming. You’re here. You’re safe. You’re with me. With Cara.’
    ‘Cara?’
    She’s so close I can smell her breath, and that ’s what brings me back to reality: stale cocktails,