Sunset in Silvana (Da'ark Nocturne Book 1) (5 page)

The pills Talia had given Boris worked as efficiently as all her remedies, and the pain subsided to something more or less bearable.  Boris thought sardonically that Ivan’s vodka had probably been just as helpful: if only it could restore memories as well. That, however, was going to be up to him.

He stood up. “I need to clear my head.  I’m going for another walk.”

Anoushka looked concerned.  “Are you positive you feel up to it?” she asked.

“Yes.  Why don’t you
all
come with me, just in case?”

Boris guided their stroll to the part of the shore where the attack had occurred, but when they reached the area, all traces of the struggle seemed to have been swept away, naturally or otherwise.  He caught sight of something glinting amongst a patch of scrubby grass.

He pretended to stagger.  “I feel a bit woozy again,” he said.  “Can we sit down here for a while?”

Talia looked at him quizzically, sensing his artifice but unaware of his purpose.  She shrugged her shoulders, helped him to seat himself on the sand, and reclined beside him.  The others joined her and they were soon relaxing in the warmth of the sun.

Boris had positioned himself carefully between the object he’d seen and Ivan – if possible, he wanted the younger man to be the one who discovered it.  He could sense that nobody wanted to discuss anything personal, so he raised the subject of the advantages – or otherwise – of hovercraft over conventional vehicles.

Talia and Anoushka looked at each other; the latter rolled her eyes and sighed while the former shook her head pityingly.  They both lay back in the sand and pointedly ignored the men.

Boris kept hoping that Ivan would notice what he’d seen, but the latter was initially oblivious to it.  Boris had almost given up, and was about to ’discover’ it himself when, to his relief, Ivan frowned and said, “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“There – in the grass – something metallic.”

“Where?”  Boris feigned confusion, so Ivan got to his feet, walked over and picked the object up.

“That’s strange,” he said

“What is it?”

“This is a ball-bearing from a heavy ball race.  What an odd thing to find in a place like this.”

It was the first missile that the girl had fired at Talia the previous evening.  Boris could see that Talia and Anoushka recognised it as well, and they all waited in anticipation for Ivan to remember the incident.  There seemed to be no immediate effect, though he did seem distracted by his incongruous find, which he inspected for a few seconds before thrusting it into his pocket.

Boris had done what he could, so he lay back down on the sand and relaxed for a few minutes, before sitting up and saying, “I fancy a mug of tea – I’m positive that would complete my convalescence.  Let’s go back, and I’ll make us all a drink.”  The others murmured agreement, and they got to their feet and strolled back to the bungalow.

He was fulfilling his promise when Josef poked his head around the kitchen door and said, “There’s a ’copter coming, Comrade Boris.”

He joined the others just as the Shiskin landed and Major Drovsorsky jumped out.  He seemed concerned.  “Comrade Talia,” he began, “I’ve come to see how you are this morning, and to apologise for the incident which occurred last night.  The young woman who attacked you has been returned to the asylum.”

Talia gave him a vacuous look that almost made Boris laugh aloud.  “Attacked me, Major?  Nobody attacked me.  We had a quiet evening.  Nothing happened of any consequence, apart from the fact that I slipped and caught my wrist on a bolt protruding from the veranda rail.”  She held up her bandaged forearm.

The Major looked extremely puzzled.   “Really? Please excuse me for a moment,” he said, and returned to the ’copter where he consulted someone via its radio.  It seemed a fairly animated discussion, and Boris guessed that he hadn’t been told about the modification to their memories.  On reflection, perhaps this was part of some sort of power-play by Captain Reynard.  He knew the Captain coveted the Major’s job.

The Major returned, looking rather embarrassed.  “I am so sorry I disturbed you, my friends.  It appears that the message I got was garbled, and the incident I was informed about took place at the next dacha up the coast.  I apologise for interrupting your holiday.”

“Not a problem,” Boris replied.  “Was anyone hurt?”

“I don’t believe so.”  He turned back to Talia. “I am, however, sorry about your injury, Comrade Talia.”

“Don’t worry - honestly.”  She laid her good hand on the Major’s arm.  “It’s only a scratch, really.”

“Well… I hope it’ll heal quickly.  Anyway, I won’t trouble you any further, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay.”  With that, he bowed politely, turned, and strode back to the ’copter.  It rose into the air and hovered for a moment, before flying away in the direction of Restavic City.

Ivan, who had been strangely quiet through the visitation, was fingering the ball bearing he’d found with a puzzled frown.  To the others’ chagrin, he shrugged and put it back in his pocket.

Once Boris had finished preparing drinks and served them to the others, he dismissed his concern for the moment and lay down on the beach in contentment, revelling in the warmth, and the gentle breeze, and the sound of the lapping waves.  He had closed his eyes and was half asleep when a hand touched his arm.  He looked up into Talia’s face and opened his mouth to enquire what she wanted, but she put her finger to her lips and pointed at Ivan, who was snoring loudly.  He got to his feet and followed her back to the dacha, where Anoushka was waiting.

“I’ve already changed the contents of Anoushka and my dispensers, and I managed to do the same to Ivan’s while he slept.  Let’s deal with yours.”  She drained both containers into separate sample jars and replaced the contents with a clear liquid.

“Nothing dangerous, I hope.”

“No – just some blood plasma from my medkit.  Hmm…”  She frowned.  “Odd – you and I had two different-looking drugs, but Anoushka’s and Ivan’s seem the same…  Ah well, I’ll have to wait till I can run them through the analyser at the Medical Centre.”

“Is that everything you wanted?” he asked.

“Not quite.  While I was treating your nose this morning, I noticed that you had something artificial buried deep in your nasal passage.  I examined Anoushka and she checked me, and we found that we both had similar devices.  I’m going to have a go at removing one of Anoushka’s to see what they’re there for.  Could you keep a lookout for us?”

Boris checked that Ivan was still asleep, and that Josef was busy: the boy was building yet another model hovercart in the sand, which was taking all his attention.  Since the coast was clear, Anoushka lay down on her bed, and Talia began a gentle investigation of her left nostril.  The device was so deeply imbedded that it took some time to remove, and caused the patient a fair amount of discomfort, but after some moments it lay in Talia’s palm.

“Now take a small breath,” she told Anoushka.

The latter did as she was told and wrinkled her nose in disgust.  “Ech!” she said.  “What a horrible smell.  It’s a good thing
I
eat sensibly, or you’d be clearing up my vomit.”

“It’s just as I thought,” Talia said as she worked to replace the device.  “Remember the news-sheet that suggested filters for visitors to Ruine?”  Boris nodded.  “Well, I think that’s just what we are – visitors, and this is all some sort of elaborate charade.  They probably change them during our weekly check-ups.”

“Why doesn’t our food taste sulphurous?” Boris asked.

“Maybe it does, but we’re just used to it,” Talia replied.  Her patient gave a yelp.  “Oh, sorry, ’Noushka – it’s damnably tricky to re-seat this thing without the right tool.”

“Hey, what’s going on?”  Ivan’s voice, edged with suspicion, came from the doorway, and Boris jumped.  He had been so engrossed by the procedure that he’d forgotten to keep a lookout.

“Anoushka’s got a nose-bleed,” Talia said smoothly, and indeed a slender trickle of red was obligingly proceeding from Anoushka’s nostril.

“Humph!”  He stomped off.

“Sorry about that,” Boris said, shamefacedly.  “I’m – we’re all going to have to be more careful.”  The others nodded agreement.

He re-joined Ivan on the beach.  They sat together for some time in uncomfortable silence until Ivan sighed and said, “I’m sorry about hitting you earlier, Boris.  I don’t know what came over me.  I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“Apology accepted, Comrade,” Boris said.  “Let’s forget it and enjoy the view.”  He indicated the girls, who were wading into the sea.  Ivan laughed and the tension vanished.

Boris was about to lie down and close his eyes when he caught sight of a motor launch anchored fifty yards or so off shore, with a man fishing from its stern.  “That’s an odd place to fish,” he said to Ivan, inclining his head towards the boat.

Ivan raised his head.  “Seems all right to me.”

“But he won’t catch much moored there,” Boris persisted.  “I’ve been out fishing here with Goran, and he always anchors further out – and so do all the other fishermen I’ve seen.”

“Perhaps he just wants some peace and quiet – or perhaps he’s a novice and could benefit from your sage advice.”  Ivan raised his voice and called out in the direction of the boat, “Comrade!  You don’t seem to be having much luck.  Why don’t you come and share some vodka with us?  Then Boris here can advise you on the best places to fish.”

The fisherman looked startled.  He poked his head into the boat’s cabin and seemed to be talking to someone inside.  “Sorry, Comrade,” he called after some seconds, “I’d love to join you, but unfortunately there’s something wrong with my engine.”

“We’re mechanics,” Boris called, “we’ll come and give you a hand,” and in a great show of solidarity, he and Ivan scrambled to their feet, stripped down to their shorts, waded out into the water and started to swim towards the boat.

The fisherman sat where he was, looking rather nonplussed, and before the swimmers were halfway to the launch, its engine surged into life.  It shot away from the beach, and the putative angler fell forwards and let go of his rod.  Trying to regain his balance, he grabbed at a towel draped over a protrusion on the boat’s roof.  As the yacht dwindled into the distance, Boris noted that the item this revealed was a parabolic microphone.

Once Boris had followed Ivan back to the beach, Talia checked the filter she replaced in Anoushka’s nose, before turning her attention to her own injury.

“Don’t fiddle with your dressing, Talia,” Anoushka said with mock severity as she sat up.

“But it itches, Nursie.”

She sighed.  “All right, let me have a look at it.”  She carefully removed the bandage and gave a sudden intake of breath.  “That’s not right,” she said, a puzzled frown across her forehead.  Apart from an area of scarring and mild bruising, Talia’s wrist was now fine.  “Nothing heals that quickly.”

“I know what you mean,” Talia said.  “It should have taken ages for it to mend that much.”  She began examining the unnaturally-healed wound, but was distracted by a strange vibration against her leg.  Looking down, she saw a small cat rubbing against her calf and purring.

Anoushka followed her glance.  “What a beautiful creature,” she said, and reached down to stroke the newcomer.  As she did so, the young feline sprang onto her right shoulder, wound round the back of her neck and rubbed its forehead against her left cheek.  Anoushka grinned.  “I saw her roaming around last night.  She seems to be feral.”

“She seems friendly enough.”  Talia looked into the cat’s eyes, which were like liquid gold.  There was something strangely familiar about that gaze.  She scratched between the interloper’s ears and the cat closed her eyes, purring ecstatically.  “Perhaps she’s hungry.”  She stood up and walked into the kitchen and her question was answered, as the cat leapt decorously down from Anoushka’s shoulders and did figures-of-eight around Talia’s ankles as she opened a tin of pluny.  She emptied the fish into a bowl and lowered it to the floor.  The animal was clearly hungry, but had the good manners to give a courteous “Mrowp” of thanks before she began to eat, delicately but efficiently.

Talia turned back to Anoushka.  “Well, I don’t know how my arm healed so quickly, but at least I know I can go for a paddle now, can’t I?”

“As long as I go with you to keep you safe,” Anoushka replied.  “But
no
swimming – we can’t be sure that the tendons are fully healed.”

They left the cat to her meal, changed into their swimming costumes and returned to the beach.  As they walked down into the cool, refreshing water together, Talia’s mind was distracted by their recent discoveries.  She turned to say something to Anoushka, but her pensive mood was shattered as she received a face-f of spray.

“You – you – you –” she spluttered, but Anoushka just giggled and waded away from her as fast as she could.  Talia was determined to have her revenge, however, and dived under and through the water in her friend’s direction.  She tackled Anoushka around the knees and pulled her over, ducking her under the surface in the process.

Anoushka came up coughing and spluttering but still managed to splash Talia again as she did so.  “I thought I said no swimming,” she cried when she’d got her breath back.

“You made me do it,” Talia retorted.  “But at least it proved that my wrist is just fine.”  She emphasised the fact by using the newly-healed arm to send a wave of water towards her friend.

Anoushka was preparing for round two when suddenly she stopped.  “What are those two miscreants doing?” she asked, looking behind Talia.  Talia was suspicious that this was a ploy to distract her, but the sudden sound of an engine in that direction backed up Anoushka’s story.  She turned just in time to see an Arkan VII hydrofoil take off like a bat out of hell.  In between it and the two girls, Talia could just make out the heads of Boris and Ivan facing the departing boat.  As she watched, they turned and set out for the shore.

“I wonder what that was about,” she said as she turned back into another cascade of water.  She dived for Anoushka’s knees again, but her friend managed to dodge her and hold her head down under the surface.  She thrashed about until she managed to free herself, and as she surfaced, spluttering imprecations, Anoushka waded away.  Talia chased her this way and that through the shallows, and though she was faster, Anoushka somehow kept managing to evade her grasp.  At last, with a triumphant cry, Talia caught her friend around the waist and was about to exact her revenge when someone pinned her arms to her side from behind, forcing her to let go.

From behind her left ear, Boris’s voice said, “OK, ladies, we need to talk, but we’ve got to be careful not to make Ivan suspicious.  For the moment, let’s just keep up the horseplay.”  This seemed to be his justification for lifting Talia up bodily and dunking her under the surface head first, but the smirk he gave after she regained her footing showed a little too much relish.  Talia took her revenge by diving for his legs and toppling him backwards into the surf.

She glanced over to the beach, where Ivan had lain down again and was dozing in the sun.  “I think we can talk n-” she began, but her sentence went unfinished.  She heard Anoushka laugh behind her as a beach-ball hit her in the middle of her back and she fell face-forward with an almighty splash.

Talia was about to retaliate when Boris said, “You’re right – let’s just throw the ball around while we talk.”  She grunted her reluctant agreement as Anoushka smirked and stuck out her tongue.  “That fishing boat was eavesdropping on us.”

“How do you know?” Anoushka asked, and he told them about his and Ivan’s adventure, and the parabolic microphone that he’d seen on the roof of the launch.  “Anyway,” he added, “I retrieved the rod dropped by the ‘fisherman’, and I don’t see how he expected to catch anything without bait – or a hook.”

“It didn’t look like a fishing boat to me,” Talia mused.  “I’ve seen something like it before, but with some sort of insignia on the side.”

“What sort of insignia?”

“A capital M with a capital I superimposed on it.  I should know what that means, but I just can’t bring it to mind.”  She sighed in frustration.

“Doesn’t mean anything to me.”  Anoushka wrinkled her nose in thought.

“Or me.  But I think we’ve got to be careful.”  Boris was visibly concerned.  “This looked too well-organised to have anything to do with last night’s amateur assault – and, given our nose filters, I think we’re not who we’ve been told that we are.  I’d reckon that we’re under observation to ensure we don’t find out – or remember – the truth.”  He paused, before adding.  “We can’t trust the others not to give us away, for the moment at least, so we’ve got to keep this to ourselves.”

“I agree,” Talia said, and Anoushka nodded her assent.  “Now let’s take a break.  We’re due at the
Comet
for lunch in an hour or so.”  They emerged from the sea and lay for a while in the sun before returning to the dacha to shower and change.

As a reward for his heroism in leading the resistance at Pregeor, Goran Ardy had been made the owner/manager of
The Tangled Comet
, a high-class restaurant and wine bar by the waterside on the eastern edge of Restavic City.  Talia didn’t get on with Goran, and he disliked her intensely, but their mutual status as Heroes of the Republic required that they spend
some
time in each other’s company; and anyway the food at the
Comet
was good.  What’s more, Goran was a consummate yachtsman, and the whole group planned to take a leisurely cruise on his catamaran back along the coast to their dacha.

They dressed appropriately, and were ready when the helicopter arrived to transport them to the restaurant.  Unexpectedly, before they could board it, it disgorged a party of security troops.  “Good morning, Lieutenant.”  Talia smiled her most winning smile at their leader, a fresh-faced young man in his twenties.  “To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”

He smiled back.  “I’m afraid it’s not for pleasure, Comrade Hero, delightful as that would be.  I’m taking these new recruits on a training hike, and simply thought that we’d catch a lift with your transport – to kill two birds with one stone, as it were.”

“What a pity.  Perhaps you could come by yourself sometime.  Our status means that we have few visitors, and I – we – would make you very welcome.”  Talia laid her hand on his arm and squeezed it gently.

He blushed.  “I – I would like to – if and when time permits.”  To cover his confusion, he turned to his squad.  “Sergeant, move the men out.”  Turning back, he said, “I’m sorry – I must go.”

“Of course – but remember my invitation.”

“I – I will.”

Boris’s expression was disapproving as they made their way to the helicopter.  “I wish you wouldn’t do that sort of thing,” he said.

“Why not?” Talia countered.  “It kept him off-balance, and allayed any suspicions he might have had, didn’t it?  And I’ve been given these ‘gifts’” (she waggled her hips) “so I might as well use them to my – and our – advantage.  Anyway, did you notice his men?  They didn’t look like raw recruits to me.”

“No – and they were pretty heavily armed for a hike in the woods.  I wonder what’s up.”

Talia looked back, and saw Ivan standing by the veranda, fingering the ball bearing.  “Aren’t you coming?” she called to him.

“I don’t think so,” he said pensively.  “I’m feeling a bit odd.  I think I’ll lie down and rest for a while.”