BLUEMANTLE, Karen Langston [best classic romance novels TXT] 📗

Blix, desperate to defend her actions, continued. “Wallace told me how he took the prisoner and hid him in a secret wing of the detention centre, what’s now the morgue in C-Block. There, he held the prisoner, heavily sedated and insensible from constant Chromatofen ingestion. He fed him up, treated his wounds, slowly restoring his health. He also worked on the prisoner’s appearance. He shaved his head and let his facial hair grow into a full beard. The prisoner’s wounds healed, altering the contours of his face.

“Once convinced that his captive was unrecognisable, he created false ID papers under the name Dent Lore and handed him over to a trusted colleague, an expert in psychopharmacology. Wallace gave him orders to put Lore through a programme of intensive indoctrination and re-education, with a view to enlisting him into the Allears. He did not say who Dent Lore was, other than that he was an orphan of the state, family unknown. The colleague took him on and began the process of modification.

“Wallace told me this in confidence when I became Governor because he wanted me to push Lore to the limit. This way, Lore could be instrumental in the capture of the Music Makers – the same people he’d endured three years’ horrendous torture in order to protect. Wallace relished the irony and was desperate that his scheme be realised, even if he wouldn’t be alive to see it.

“When he told me the plan and I met Lore for the first time, I could see why. It was clear to me that Lore was a weapon: use him to his full potential and we could destroy the Music Makers. And that potential seemed boundless. His re-education had worked a dream. He had no recollection of his past. He absorbed and regurgitated state ideology with conviction. His determination to achieve the mission of the Allears and the will of the Authority was unwavering. And the irony was the icing on the cake. I monitored his progress closely, looking for signs of lapse, but there were none. Quite the opposite. After two years of re-education and psycho-manipulation, then nine years as a serving Allear, I promoted him to Unit Superior.”

Wulfwin hissed through gritted teeth, “And I was appointed Chief of Command ten years ago. You and I have worked closely together in that time. You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t. Don’t you see?”

“No. Of course I fucking don’t.”

“We both hate the Music Makers – for different reasons, but with an intensity matched. For you, it comes down to win or lose. As long as they walk free, they’re winning. And that’s your red rag. I understand and respect that.

“But we handle our hate in very different ways. You wear yours like a man on fire. Even if I was permitted to tell you, I knew you wouldn’t have been able to work alongside Lore, knowing who he really was. You wouldn’t have put aside your hatred in order to accept the plan.”

“That’s because your plan is bullshit. Create the ultimate irony? Use him as a weapon? He’s a fucking Music Maker. He doesn’t deserve to be anything but dead.”

“But his hearing—”

“I don’t give a fuck about his hearing. This is about you and Wallace and your damned obsession with control. Wallace was bad enough. But you’ve taken it to another level. You’re obsessed to the point that it’s turned you into a paranoid junkie.”

She opened her mouth, about to speak.

“Shut it,” he said. “You’ve said your piece. Now hear mine.”

He approached her slowly, probing her sphere of personal space. “You’ve lost it, Blix. You’re so doped up on Meezel, you can’t walk straight, let alone think straight. You’re so fixated on controlling the city, that you don’t even realise you’ve lost control of yourself. I don’t give a shit about your lame excuses. You should have told me about Lore. I’m his Commanding Officer, for fuck’s sake. I backed him up. I…” Wulfwin faltered, remembering the last conversation he’d had with him, not seven hours ago. “You stupid, Meezel bitch. You should have told me,” he roared. “That’s it. You’re finished.”

“What…?”

“As your serving Chief of Command, I hereby advise you that I am triggering Article Twenty-One and, in consort with the Chief of Staff, I assume control of the Authority.”

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that you are a drug addict, you have been complicit in fraudulent activity against the state and you have withheld vital information from your Chief of Command. Enough, or shall I continue? What would your Chief of Staff say to your little plan to contaminate the spring and dope the entire city?”

“That was your idea!”

“That’s what you say. However, I’ve demonstrated that you’re no longer to be trusted.” He sneered and held up his hands. “I was merely following orders.”

“That’s a lie—”

“You should’ve told me. Instead, you’ve made a fool out of me. You’ll pay dearly for that.” He pulled a radio from his belt. “Trooper Five-Eight. This is Delta-Charlie-One. Do you read? Over.”

“What are you doing?” cried Blix.

He ignored her. His radio crackled back.

“Delta-Charlie-One. This is Trooper Five-Eight. Copy that. Over.”

“Get your unit together and report to me immediately at apartment A, floor two-eight, residential block one. Over.”

“Apartment A, floor two-eight. That’s—”

“Governor Blix’s private quarters. Yes. Get your men up here immediately. Do you read? Over.”

“Copy that, Delta-Charlie-One, sir. Over and out.”

Blix stood, pale and floundering. “What… What are you doing?”

“I’m taking control.”

“No—”

“I must speak with the Chief of Staff to initiate proceedings. Meanwhile, you are confined to quarters. That’s an order. I suggest you don’t resist. My men are armed.”

“Commander—”

He eyed the silver pillbox on the desk behind her. “Indulge, why don’t you? Knock yourself out.” Then he turned and walked out of the room, locking the door behind him.

–

The Chief of Command wasted no time.

Within three hours, Wulfwin was stood in the centre of the parade ground, megaphone to mouth, barking orders. The seat of power was still warm. He relished the transition.

Passive on his leather