BLUEMANTLE by Karen Langston (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud TXT) 📕

“You can’t—” he said, struggling to keep his voice down.

“Why not?”

“You’ll get yourself killed.”

“Not if I’m careful.”

“Careful? What about Cole?”

“Cole was careful. He produced Bluemantle for twenty-five years without any trouble. He’d sussed everything. The operation was flawless in its caution, mission and ambition. That’s why I’m convinced. He wasn’t found out. Someone traded. Some bastard turned him in.”

Chase’s heart rate spiked; his mouth felt dry.

“And if that’s the case,” she said, “I won’t let that person win. I won’t let them destroy everything Cole created, everything it stood for. All for a wrap of Meezel? Or a rent rebate? No fucking way.” She stood up, trembling.

Chase stood up too, placed his hand on her shoulder. “Please, don’t do this. The risks—”

“There’s nothing you can do or say to change my mind, alright?”

Chase let go of her shoulder, his arm falling limp by his side.

“I absolutely believe it’s the right thing to do. The Scene is a lifeline for hundreds of people. Bluemantle is the route through. Cole didn’t just create it to promote the shows. It’s a means of challenging the A’s narrative. Not with counter-rhetoric but with a map, inviting citizens to find out the truth about the Scene for themselves. He knew, just as I know, that if people discovered the truth, they’d see through and stand up against the lies. Only then can we break down the prejudices, born of the state’s drip-fed propaganda, that lead people to label us ‘scum’ without knowing what actually happens at an event. Growing the Scene was never just about numbers; it was about shifting the sway of opinion.

“I’m an actor, Chase. I was born into a travelling theatre committed to retelling old tales so that others may discover the universal truths behind them. A means to an end – a map to reveal the way. Bluemantle is no different. You say you can’t walk away from Wella, even though I’ve told you she’s okay? Well, I can’t walk away from this. And, I’m sorry, Chase, but keeping Bluemantle alive means a damn sight more than one woman’s desire to withdraw from overground.”

“But why you? There are hundreds involved in the Scene. It’s not your battle alone to save it.”

“No, but I have the means. I know where Cole’s workshop is. I know where all the drops are. He showed me everything. As far as I’m aware, I’m the only one. I also know who taught him cryptography. Cole took it to another level to beat the A. I’m not saying I can match his skills, but at least I can try. All I need to do is approach the Troubadours and seek their permission to represent them. They need Bluemantle. I can’t imagine they’ll turn down my offer.”

Despite his objections, Chase listened. And he understood enough to witness his tidy plan unravel. His motives blurred as the startling realisation dawned. What am I doing? he thought. Doubt held the hand of hesitation. He had thought he had it all worked out, a neat parcelling of care and attention. Now, in the midst of game change, he had to reorder. He fell back onto firm territory, years of consolidation. That must be it, he decided. All that he knew hadn’t suddenly changed just because of Ursel’s revelation, or the way it had made him feel. He forced that away, saved for another time. Stabilised by the familiar, he sought a route through. If he was lucky, it could achieve the same end.

Taking a deep breath, he said, “Okay. I hear you. I can see I can’t change your mind and I think I understand why. I would rather you reconsider, but I respect your motives. If only I were that brave.”

“It’s not bravery if there are no alternatives. Recognising that, the decision becomes a far simpler one to make.”

“Then I won’t push you to change it. Just as, I hope, you won’t push me to change mine. I know you see alternatives as far as Wella is concerned. For me, however, there are none. It is something I must do.”

“And I respect that.” There was a pause. Muffled voices from the stage reached them through the gaps in the stand. Chase had almost forgotten where they were, why they were hiding. Ursel hadn’t. She itched at the side of her wig and said, “Listen, we haven’t got long before the interval. I take it you need to be back in your seat before the lamps come up?”

“Yes.”

“And I’m assuming we can’t easily meet again while they’re watching you?”

“It’d put you in danger.”

“Okay, then. Here’s the deal. I’m about to break the biggest rule in the book, but I think we understand each other. If we can’t meet for me to take you to the event, I need to tell you when and where it is. If you’ve managed to avoid detection by coming here this evening, I’m trusting you to take tenfold more precaution to get to the event without being followed. I don’t need to spell it out to you, but I will anyway. If you lead the A to the Scene, you will not only be risking Wella’s life, which wholly defeats the object. You will also be risking your own life, my life and the lives of several hundred innocent people enjoying an evening of harmless music. That’s a catastrophic consequence that would put most people off attending in the first place. However, if you’re still determined to go, then I’ll tell you when and where.”

She pulled out an eyeliner pencil from a pocket in her tunic. “Roll up your sleeve,” she said. Chase did as instructed. Ursel wrote something on his skin, then covered it back up with his sleeve. “Those are the coordinates. I’ll meet you there. Night after tomorrow. The bands are on at ten.” Before Chase could respond, Ursel said, “Lights up in one minute,” then she turned and disappeared.

–

The work-weary men, women and minors