Previous: Chapter 5. Winter
Chapter 6. Spring
Wissant, April 2062
Mama had asked if she could come and stay with then. They hadn’t seen her in over a year and Sarah was delighted at the prospect of seeing her granny. Mama was still living in Glasgow so it was quite a journey.
Muir also looked forward to seeing Mama. But he also suspected that the timing of the visit was no coincidence: in his last letter, Dad had hinted he might be coming back soon. Mama might have come to pave the way, so to speak. Muir felt a certain apprehension.
She arrived in the afternoon, having walked from Pihen station. She was in a very good mood, and they had a very merry reunion over coffee and cake. After that, Muir took her out for a walk on the beach.
“Muir, I guess you know why I have come now, don’t you? Dad will be back soon and we need to have a talk about that. We both owe you an apology, or at least an explanation.”
“Both of you?”
“Both of us, and Yaya too. You must have figured out that things were never quite what they seemed, mustn’t you?”
“Well, all I know is that it was all very odd and a lot didn’t add up, but I still don’t see why Dad had to desert us.”
“That will be for Dad to explain to you himself when he’s back. But I want to explain what led on to it. You know that until 2035, the fascists were in charge everywhere, don’t you?”
“Aye, and that they came back to power around the time of Dad’s trial. I kind of suspected there had to be some connection, but I could never work it out.”
“Do you know what caused the Global Fascism Collapse?”
“We learned in school that it had something to do with what they called the Network State in America and India. Some globally distributed network with blockchains and agents that managed the economy or something. They explained that it had, due to the introduction of those agents, it actually been a chaotic system but nobody had realised that, and so it had collapsed without any warning, and taken the fash down with it.”
“That’s what the history books in Scotland say alright, and it’s mostly correct. The reality was only a little bit different. The Network State, this kind of ostensibly distributed but really highly centralised state substitute run by the tech megacorps, was always unstable, that bit’s true. The agents were probabilistic so there was never a guarantee of stable feedback. But it was not chaotic in the theoretical sense. Meaning that it needed quite a push to collapse. Also, the instabilities were known. People had worked out for quite some time where the pressure points were and what it would take to bring it down. And that was what your Dad was tried for, and found guilty of. The new regime didn’t want to make a hero, that’s why they hushed it all up.”
Seònaid said all this in a matter-of-fact way, as if it was obvious.
Muir was taken aback.
“That sounds fantastic, I can’t believe it. Dad could never have done something like that: he wasn’t good enough a hacker, and also, wouldn’t you have known?”
“I didn’t say he did it. I said that’s what he was tried for. But he did confess, didn’t he?”
“Aye.”
“And all evidence supported his confession, right?”
“As far as that went. You know I’m no expert, Mama, but me and Suna went over this again and again at the time, and we couldn’t believe he would leave a trail like that. If nothing else, you would have noticed.”
“Ah, but I wasn’t there at the time, was I? That was confirmed during the trial: I was with Yaya, looking after Yayo, firmly off-grid.” She said this with an ironic smile while stressing the last two words.
Muir stopped and looked at her. “Meaning you weren’t?”
“Oh, I was there all right, all the time. But you know, being off-grid and being offline is not always quite the same.”
“So you knew what Dad was up to?”
“Your Dad didn’t do anything.”
Muir was a picture of confusion “He didn’t – but then how – who – “
“It was Yaya who organised it, and I and many others helped with the execution. And even if I say so myself, we did an almost perfect job: no leads, not a single shred of evidence against us. Also, the new governments were none too keen to investigate the cause of the collapse, for fear it might compromise their legitimacy. And so for many years, all was well. Then in the late 2040s, the fash were staging a comeback. Something had to be done to stop them, and Dad had a plan. It was dangerous and ethically questionable, but we all agreed to it. Reluctantly, and after interminable discussions, but we agreed in the end. It was something that would take years to materialise. But shortly after we’d put it in motion, we got a tip-off that the case had been reopened, and that the investigation might be on our trail. We needed a contingency plan to protect the organisation. Somebody had to be the fall guy. It couldn’t be me because that would implicate Yaya and Yayo and probably all the others. We had very little time, and Dad volunteered.”
Seònaid waited for Muir to interrupt, but he just looked at her mutely. She continued, “Yaya and I faked a complete evidence trail that would lead them straight to him. Luckily, it worked. You know the rest.”
But Muir wasn’t satisfied. He replied, “Lucky for all of you, but not for Dad, and for us. Also, that doesn’t explain why he had to leave us for so long.”
Seònaid studied Muir for a moment, trying to gauge his emotions. She went on, “That was because he was very worried that they would come and ask him questions, because if that happened they would definitely put him away forever, and the rest of us as well. He’ll have to tell you himself what it was, but the upshot was that he needed to disappear until the fascists were gone again, just in case they would have managed to trace something back to him. It took a bit longer than we’d hoped.”
Muir shook his head forcefully, as if to chase away a fly. “And you didn’t even consider telling Suna or me?”
Seònaid looked really troubled. “We did consider it. But what you don’t know can’t be gotten out of you. It was simply too dangerous for you and Suna to know. I know, it was an awful thing to do, but there were no good choices.”
Muir threw up his hands. He was really angry now. “And what if we had guessed it anyway?”
“What of it? Guessing is not the same as knowing. If you had been questioned and told them your guesses, it might have gone bad for all of us, but if you had really known for sure, it would have been far worse.”
“So you and those others just sent Dad away like the scapegoat.”
Now it was Seònaid’s turn to be incensed.
“It wasn’t like that at all. Look Muir, I totally understand you are angry. Do you think I liked it? I had just as little contact with Dad as you, both when he was in jail and afterwards. Don’t you think I missed him too?”
Muir flinched at Mama’s sudden outburst.
Seònaid immediately felt sorry for him, and she shrugged in a resigned way.
“Anyway, you’ll have to talk this out with Dad. I’ve told you as much as I could. We’ve all been feeling guilty about not telling you and Suna, even Yayo.”
Muir clutched at the straw Mama offered. “Even Yayo? He was in it too?”
“Well, he was already ill, so he didn’t actively participate. But of course he knew. He and Yaya had been activists together forever, from when they first met. We would never have done any of this if it wasn’t for him. You know he was in the civil service before his illness. He’d been in charge of a lot of the cybersecurity work, and he still had his contacts. He really was our key source of information and nobody ever suspected him. It was he who got the tip-off.”
“So everybody knew except for us?” Muir knew he was sounding petulant and childish but he couldn’t help himself.
Seònaid looked at him for a while and then said, “Yes Muir, everybody who had to know knew.” She knew the worst was over. Muir needed to save his wounded pride but his real anger had gone. For a long time they walked in silence along the beach, while the sun went down in a wrack of clouds.
Next: Chapter 7. Spring