12. Plan B

“This is a fucking disaster.”

Neither Sylvia nor Tamara said a word in response as Eli paced the floor of the sports club. It was after ten in the evening and Eli hadn’t let up since that smug bastard Jeremy Peters had bested him at the gate this morning. The heat hadn’t let up either and if anything the humidity was worse. The students were having a party in the park while the three of them endlessly debriefed inside the stuffy hall. Water dripped from the ailing air-conditioner into a bucket in the corner of the room.

“It’s not as bad as you think, Eli,” Tamara offered for the hundredth time.

“Yes, yes it is!” he said, turning to face her. “We might as well pack it in tonight, don’t you think? You saw the news bulletin.” The latest story had lasted barely twenty seconds and had been particularly irreverent toward the protesters. It’d been enough to set Eli off again.

“What did you expect?” Sylvia asked. “Of course they’re going to favour the establishment. I didn’t think you were that naïve, Eli.”

He stared at her. “You didn’t have to start raving at him though, did you?”

“What the fuck did you expect, bringing me back here? He put me in jail for three and a half years, Eli.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath. “We need to think.”

“We’ve been thinking for hours,” Tamara said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “What we need is a good night’s rest and a renewed effort tomorrow.”

“I can’t rest,” Eli murmured, but he leaned into Tamara. Sylvia inched away.

Outside, a cooler breeze blew in off the ocean and she stood in its path for a moment, arms outstretched. The moon was high and the night cloudless. Music blasted from speakers scattered throughout the park, but she tuned it out and moved between the rows of tents, most of which were empty at this hour. She found her tent and stuck her head inside, but it was far too hot to sleep yet and much too noisy. Aside from the music and the partying, she could hear the groans of people copulating in a nearby tent. It did little to improve her mood.

She wandered around for a while, nodding at the groups of drunken students as she passed. Dozens of police officers looked on from their cordon at the park’s edge, but it seemed that so long as the protesters didn’t try to leave the park, they were free to drink, drug and fuck to their hearts’ content. Eli might want to consider how that would look in the media tomorrow. Sylvia wanted to use the toilet but she found the one nearest her to be blocked up and foul-smelling. The other one nearby was occupied by a young man: naked to the waist, he was spewing into the bowl. Not ten metres away, two police officers looked on.

The main party was on the far side of the oval, beneath the floodlights, so she walked in the opposite direction toward the edge of the park, past the hall where Eli and Tamara were presumably still locked in congress.

The moonlight illuminated the swaying trees and she could see the lights of offshore platforms and ships to the west. “What do you want me to do?” she said to the darkness around her. The police presence was more sparse on this side of the park. “This protest will be finished tomorrow so I don’t know what you’re worried about,” she said in too low a voice for them to hear. “There isn’t going to be any violence.” Lately she’d become accustomed to speaking through the SCA like this. She didn’t know whether it was Lyncoln Rose listening in or just some functionary.

“I feel like walking,” she said. “I’m going down to the beach, all right?”

She made her way across the car park and the police let her through the cordon without questioning her, so maybe Lyncoln Rose was listening in after all. She walked down the incline along what seemed to be an ordinary suburban street. Soon she’d left the park and the police behind and she started feeling better. Crossing the road at an intersection, she walked down to the beach and across the sand. There was very little swell on account of the sea wall, so she took off her shoes and walked barefoot in the wet sand. The surface of the water rippled, silvery in the moonlight. The last time she’d set foot in the ocean had also been here at Ridge Point. Funny how she’d seemed to have come full circle. She had the urge to walk north up the coast in the direction of the fish farm, to see if it was still there.

“Sylvia?”

She turned around and there stood Lyncoln Rose and two other police officers. They’d snuck up on her without her noticing. “What do you want?” she asked. “I need some time alone.”

“It’s important,” the Superintendent said. “We can talk here though. Looks like you’ve found yourself a nice spot.” She had the other two leave them alone, but the officers didn’t retreat far, just up to the sand dunes and well within eyesight.

“I want to swim,” Sylvia said, taking a couple of steps into the water. “Do you think it’s safe here?”

“Relatively safe, but I can’t let you swim. Come on, let’s sit over here.” Lyncoln Rose sat back from the water’s edge and Sylvia reluctantly did likewise. “I’m sorry to have to put you through all this,” she continued. “I must say you’ve done an excellent job so far. You’ve played it nearly to perfection.”

“I still don’t understand what the big deal is,” Sylvia said, shaping the sand with her foot. “They’re no threat.”

“None at all, I agree.”

“Then why I am still here?”

The Superintendent sighed. “The less I explain, the easier it’ll be for you to perform your final duty for us. After you’ve done this, you’ll be free. No more SCA, no more jobs, and no more me. I promise.”

“What do you want now?” Sylvia said.

“There’s a man that you used to know in Yellowcake Springs.”

“Not Jeremy?”

“Another one. His name’s Rion.”

“Rion?” Sylvia’s foot pushed deeper into the sand. “What’s he doing there?”

“He’s doing a job for us, actually. He’s got a SCA in him too.”

“Rion’s working for you?” So he was alive at least.

“He is, but there’s a problem. We sent him in there to provide surveillance. We wanted someone on the inside to make sure that CIQ Sinocorp weren’t planning on shooting all these protesters. We want the whole thing to go away just as much as they do, but not at the expense of people’s lives.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that for the last few days Jeremy Peters has kept Rion asleep in Controlled Dreaming State. There may be more to it than that, but we aren’t sure. Not only are we not getting any useful information from Rion’s SCA anymore, but we have grave fears for his safety.”

“You don’t care about his safety and you don’t care about mine,” Sylvia said. “If you did, you wouldn’t keep using us like this.”

“Suit yourself, but we still want to get you in there and get both of you out safely. Then it’ll be over.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me. I know this isn’t about Rion.”

“You’re very astute, Sylvia. I admire you for that. But I can’t tell you what it’s about or you won’t be able to effectively perform your role for us. Jeremy Peters will try to get the information from you, but he won’t be able to get it if you don’t have it, will he?”

“I’ve done everything you’ve asked and now you want me to go back in there?” Sylvia said. “It was you who said I was barred from Yellowcake Springs in the first place.”

“I know it’s tough for you, Sylvia. I do. This’ll be the last thing, I promise.”

“I’m not interested in your promises! How much are you going to pay Rion and I for this? I want a generous pension out of you.”

“Do this and you’ll both have it. You’ll never have to work again.”

“I don’t believe you,” Sylvia said. “You’ll keep using me and using Rion until there’s nothing left of us. We’ll never be free of you.”

Lyncoln Rose waited for her to finish, then she waved for the two officers to return. “We need to get you back to the park,” she said. “Eli and Tamara will be wondering where you’ve gone and how you got through the cordon.”

“Eli won’t like it,” Sylvia protested, trudging across the sand.

“What Eli Dennis-Singh needs is a bullet, but I don’t think he’ll be getting it any time soon,” the Superintendent said. “Today hasn’t gone very well for him and he needs a Plan B. Jeremy said that you were free to speak to him privately, so now you’re to suggest to Eli that you’ll take him up on the offer. The way you’ll spin it is this.” They’d reached the edge of the sand, so Sylvia stopped to put on her shoes. “Jeremy’s strength is PR, so you won’t want him anywhere near the gate tomorrow. Whoever else Sinocorp sends out won’t be able to shoot Eli down as quickly, if at all. What Eli needs is a podium and an audience. Tomorrow he’ll have both and you’ll keep Jeremy engaged and away from the gate. We’ll have to transfer you at first light, so get some sleep if you can. How does that sound?”

Sylvia stood at the bottom of the hill. She could see the lights of the park in the distance. There was no one around except for one unmarked police car, two police officers and one police Superintendent. “It sounds like bullshit,” she said. “But you really aren’t giving me a choice, are you? It’s a waste of my breath even talking to you.” She started walking and no one tried to stop her.

It didn’t take long to reach the park and she hadn’t really had much of a walk. The police ushered her through. Maybe getting back at Jeremy would be worth something to her. And seeing Rion again...

The music blared on and she had to step over two students who had passed out from whatever drink and/or drug they’d imbibed. She went over to the hall but found it empty. She braved the toilet, which was in an even worse state now, but then so was her bladder. Eli’s tent was just along from her own. Possibly he’d arranged it that way so that he could have another crack at her tonight. She approached it and heard furious whispering from within.

“I love you, Eli! Say you love me too.” Tamara.

“I love you,” Eli replied. They must be having sex, for now Tamara moaned with pleasure. Sylvia walked away. Thankfully their noises didn’t carry as far as her tent. She crawled inside and zipped it up behind her. She thought it might be awhile before she’d be able to sleep, and though she tried to stop herself, she couldn’t help but think of Rion.