CHAPTER 55
10 years AC
‘LeMan 49/25a’ - ClarenCo Gas Rig Complex, North Sea
Valérie stared at her across the pile of blankets and cushions. He’d only been using these rooms on the top deck for the last few days, but had already managed to make some grubby rooms that had once been labelled the ‘System Monitoring Suite’ into a space that looked comfortable, inviting even - almost like some Bedouin tent.
‘We need the room,’ he replied. ‘There were too many coming to pray with me on that small rig where you were keeping me. Here we have room for as many as want to come, yes?’
She suspected his calm, even voice and that supercilious smile was his attempt to goad her.
‘Yes. But you’re kicking people off this platform, you can’t do that. Where people are bunked is down to me. And the way I do it, is to consult with them. See who wants to be where and—’
‘Those who need my guidance, need to be right here, Jennifer. And those who don’t, well . . .’ he spread his hands, ‘there is lots of room elsewhere, yes?’
Jenny could quite easily have slapped that face. No, not slapped, she’d bunch her hand first and hope to knock out a couple of teeth.
Calm, Jenny.
She took a breath. ‘The thing is, that’s their choice. I’m not having you throw out people you don’t want around you and moving in those you do.’ Despite her best intentions, she could hear anger creeping into her voice. ‘I’m not having that, do you understand?’
He smiled. ‘The thing is, Jennifer, you are losing them.’
‘What?’
‘These people. They need a spiritual direction, a guide. They are lost and frightened.’
‘What? They’re not frightened! Look, I came here, I led my family and others here because it’s safe. No one’s bloody well frightened here.’
‘Yes, you did that. You made them safe, and trust me when I say God is grateful for all you have done for—’
‘Oh, for f*ck’s sake, cut that crap!’ she snapped. ‘Don’t give me the God thing, because I just don’t buy it.’
‘I am sorry,’ he sighed. Silent for a moment, his eyes studied her intently. ‘The truth is they need more than this. More than safety, more than food. They need purpose.’
‘They have a purpose!’
‘No, what they have is just existence. They eat, they drink, they sleep. That is all. No one can live on that for ever. I have seen other people on my travels, Jennifer. Other communities like yours . . . maybe not so large. People who did not allow God in.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Eventually, they wither and die.’
She thought she saw the glint of a tear on one of his cheeks and wondered if he was so deluded that it was actually genuine.
‘If it was my choice,’ he continued, ‘perhaps God should have come and spoken to you, not me. After all, it was you worked so hard to create this safe haven, in fairness it should be you that leads the people. But I am afraid this is how it is, God chose me.’
‘God spoke to you, huh?’
He ignored her. ‘Your people are beginning to understand this place is . . . is special. That it fits into a grander plan.’
‘Right. Which is what?’
‘The crash, the end of the oil age, the wars, the riots, the starvation, ten years of darkness - it was all part of God’s scheme. To clear away the old and start again.’
She laughed. ‘Valérie, you know and I know that’s bullshit. Shall I tell you what I think?’
He spread his hands. ‘Please.’
‘I think you came on to these rigs and you saw an opportunity. You saw a safe and isolated environment. You saw that we could feed ourselves indefinitely, and that there aren’t a lot of other men, are there? Not a lot of competition? You’ve seen a lot of vulnerable women looking for something more . . . you’ve seen all that and decided to make the most of it.’
He shook his head. ‘You have me wrong, Jennifer.’
‘I think I’ve got you just about right. I don’t f*cking trust you!’
‘Trust?’ He smiled. ‘If you want someone not to trust I have heard things about your Walter that concern me.’
That threw her. She wasn’t expecting that. ‘What?’
‘Walter,’ he said again.
‘What’s—What about Walter?’
‘He has always been very close to you, yes?’
‘Since I first met him,’ she replied. ‘Not that it’s any of your business.’
‘Close to you . . . close to your daughter. Close to Hannah.’
Jenny angrily snatched a cushion in one hand, wondering what she was going to do with it. Throw it at him?
‘What? What’s Hannah got to do with anything?!’
‘You remember the day she was missing?’ continued Valérie. ‘You remember he did not want anyone to search that generator room, yes?’
All of a sudden she could see where he was going with that. ‘Don’t you dare say another f*cking word! Don’t you even think of trying that with me. Do you hear?’
Jenny dropped the cushion and took several steps towards the door, before turning to face him. ‘Walter’s a bloody good man. I’ve relied on him for years! He’s done so much for us. Don’t try and—’
‘Jennifer, I am telling you what people are thinking. That is all.’
‘I came here to discuss these evictions! And that, Valérie, is stopping right now!’
He said nothing.
‘And the mealtimes will be sat according to work groups. Do you understand!’ she added. ‘We are not splitting this place up into your kingdom and mine!’
He shrugged. ‘It’s too late.’
She turned for the doorway.
‘Jennifer,’ Valérie called out after her.
She stopped in the corridor outside.
‘You are going to lose these people to me, Jennifer . . . and to God. Then you will be alone. Just you and Walter.’
She turned round. ‘There’s four hundred and fifty people here. How many come to listen to you? A hundred?’
‘More each day,’ he replied almost apologetically. ‘Soon it will be all.’
Jenny felt rage bubbling up and out of control. She knew it was going to come out as a shrill bark before she’d even opened her mouth. ‘Right! That’s it!! I want you off this rig, NOW!!’
He said nothing.
‘I WANT YOU TO F*ckING LEAVE, NOW!!’ Her voice rang off the metal walls beside her, down the passageway and out into the space of the compression module’s gutted main chamber.
His reply was measured and quiet. ‘No. I have work to do here.’
She turned and headed down the passage and out onto a walkway that overlooked the cavernous interior of the module. She saw pale oval faces peering out from a jungle of hammocks and bunks, between washing lines strewn from one side to the other, from the floor, up three storeys to the ceiling. Eyes followed her as she followed the railed walkway to a door that led outside onto an external staircase.
They all heard that. Heard me lose control. Shit.