Page 137 of The Mars House

“So people . . . see?” Dr Molotov said slowly.

“Can you do that? I know I heard you saying it isn’t so simple, but . . .”

“January. You saw what happened before. A lot of people will go into shock, on no warning—people are going to be cooking, walking down stairs . . .”

“What if it was just a few seconds? Just a flash, so people saw, and then . . . ?”

“And then what?” Dr Molotov said carefully.

“I don’t know, do I? I don’t have any plans, but we can’t just let the Consul drag River away.” He glanced back the way he’d come. “They’ll come and fetch me in a second, I have to—please? The AI who watches over the internet—what are they called, Lao Zi? Might they agree, just for a few seconds . . .”

Dr Molotov winced. “I made that up. It’s just a switch in the boiler room.”

“It . . . ?”

Dr Molotov tried to laugh. “I’ll go now. January, I—listen. I know you don’t think so, but you’re as much a Gale as any of us now. You’ll know what to do.”

January didn’t know what to say, except that he was very sure he had no idea what to do.

Dr Molotov bowed. “I serve at the pleasure of the House of Gale.”

Stepping up to that lectern felt like climbing the gallows. By the time he did, there was a crowd of people watching, both in the foyer and around the balconies that looked down into it. The lights from the drones cut harsh across everything.

“All right?” the Consul asked him.

“No, but better. Thank you.”

“Let’s get going then,” they said, and waved up to the production gallery.

On the live screens, the drum fanfare that came before consular appearances rolled out on all the live feeds, including the screen opposite. January breathed out as slowly as he could, thoroughly not liking the idea of having to look at himself while he talked.

Silence came down.

“Good evening,” the Consul began. “As you have all seen on the news today, there have been some difficulties at Songshu. There was some unrest and, tragically, several deaths, both Earthstrong and Natural. In the aftermath, House Gale and House Song have come to a difficult decision.”

There was a stir from the people employed by Songshu, and eyes slid towards January and Aubrey.

“House Gale would like to thank everyone who worked on the tower project,” Aubrey said, sounding almost exactly like who they were meant to be. Off to the side, by the praetorian with red hair, River was staring at the floor. “And we’re all overjoyed that the launch was successful. But given that it was my staff who started the riot here, I no longer believe it is in anyone’s interest for me to stand in this election. I’m under an ongoing police investigation; that does nothing for Tharsis. I’m stepping down. I wish Consul Song the best of luck in their second term.”

The stir in the crowd turned to something deeper, a kind of dismay that had nowhere to go.

It was January’s turn. He put his glasses on to see the autocue that the Consul’s people had written for him. By the praetorian, River vanished. He wondered what was taking Dr Molotov so long. It felt like hours since he’d spoken to them.

“House Gale will cooperate with the police investigation fully,” he said, thinking feverishly that he sounded nothing like himself at all, that he never used words like “cooperate.” “If the Senator is ever taken in for further questioning, which we don’t expect, the House will continue to run as usual; we have an extensive, very capable staff.”

“There won’t be any questions for now, folks, the police have to get on with their work and so do the rest of us,” the Consul said warmly.

Please hurry up please hurry up please hurry up.

“Thank you very m—”

The virtual overlays over everything in January’s glasses vanished, and half the people in the room buckled as they lost their balance; even the praetorians.

He didn’t know, until the praetorian with red hair stumbled, what he meant to do.

He slung himself off the podium and, while the praetorian was still trying to get their bearings, thumped into them sideways and tore the gun off them. River materialised again at the same time, and there was a collective shocked yell from the people who saw, but January ignored it, his whole weight on the praetorian’s chest while he hunted through their pockets for the fob that unlocked the handcuffs. When he found it, he clicked it. River’s manacles fell away, and after a paralysing moment where the internet came up again and they vanished, River appeared again and slung the bracelet onto the ground. They dragged January up and back to the lectern, where of course the cameras were still filming, rapt.

“That is not Aubrey Gale,” River said, pointing at Aubrey, voice rich and steady and full of an iron authority that even the Consul didn’t have. “I do not step down from this election, and I will be taking House Song immediately to court for kidnap. I was just abducted and held at gunpoint, and if anything at all happens to me today, please be in no doubt that it was murder.”