Opus Veda

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Two days had passed. It took that long for one autoreply to come back.

Imany was out of time. She called the conspirators over and promised to change 'due course' to 'now'.

They departed at night, aiming to reach Ali Hogarth's by 9pm. A time she ought to be home; early enough for the visit to remain polite. Their phones stayed behind, reducing their footprint, and Imany insisted the weapons stay back too. Fists would be enough to persuade a woman like Ali anyway. In case it came to that, Jason would wait in the car for a faster getaway.

Journeying through London's atomised districts gave them nerves; the silent minutes before a stage performance, mingled with the unease of alien sights. So much city was crushed together, so many subcultures seconds apart, yet the decades had driven borders through them until they felt miles away.

Jason drove through the Vauxhall Bridge toll gate and past Hyde Park's eastern border. Kasia looked through the police cordon and into the park's gaping black void. Her heat skipped. How close they were to Kensington palace, where Varma now lived. She imagined her actions tonight impressing him. More than anyone in this car, his opinion mattered.

They skirted along the Mayfair border, past the Caliphate's hotels and Bazaar, and through the border into Camden. A menacing police tower watched; the windows of its command bridge tilting over the borough. A digital eye scanned Jason's cab and accepted its presence. He could only hope tonight would be too unimportant to trace back to him.

The kaleidoscope they found could have been from a future century. Camden glowed with neon clubs, karaoke bars, and world food stalls. Bioengineered foliage danced around ad screens. On the ground, holograms beamed out. Even the roads displayed these lasers of data; chevrons humming from green to red, warning human drivers where robotic drivers turned. Above, a multiple tier highway of drones travelled lines only their owners could see, piloting from offices across the world.

To the Kendi serfs it was a scene of wonder that amazed, and hurt. A sci-fi film set before their eyes, goading them with the future once promised to them, but never delivered.

And then there was Islington. Camden's gaudy neo-futurism was gone. Instead, cast iron street lamps lit rustic bakeries, grocers, and antique book shops. Butchers advertised real meat across from cafes arguing against it. Avenues of mighty trees, ripped from nature, stood to attention amidst an Old English aesthetic.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Haunting one corner stood a rare remaining example of England's cultural bastion. The hanging baskets of flowers, the wooden sign swinging over the door, the seriffed gold letters stamped into glossy black panels. The traditional pub.

Jason slowed down as he saw this relic, giving his passengers time to admire it. A hundred acquaintances mingled on an ivied patio, taking real photos with real people, holding ales rich in amber and gold, or crystal flutes of waxy red wine.

They all looked so happy. Yet even here the influence of empires crept - stemmed shot glasses of baijiu, bags of ramen shared like crisps, shisha pipes surrounded by hand-sewn cushions.

"What's that?" Kasia pointed at one woman's glass. It yawned wide with fizzy liquid and green leaves. Imany followed her finger.

"It's a G&T luvvie. My mum's generation used to obsess about them."

"It's got plants in it..."

"And it tastes like deodorant. It's a poser's drink. But then who here ain't a poser?"

"I dunno..." Jason smiled at his passengers through the rear-view mirror, "we always could pop by for a pint after the job's done eh?"

"Not with me you ain't," Sermon scowled, "the last pub I went to this bar wench asks me if I'm applyin' for the toilet attendant role. I had to leave on principle."

"The whole scene's bullshit Sermon," Imany tutted, "they're nostalgic for somethin' that never really existed. We can have a drink when we get home. Come on, get me away from here."

Jason cruised away. Streets later, they reached their destination.

A sleepy palatine hill of villas rolled before them. Jason drifted into a lay-by of charging points, stepped outside, and pretended to recharge the cab. Imany checked over her shoulder to inspect the back passengers. She found something that had her hissing with anger.

Kasia had brought her knife. She was gripping it like an ice cream. Her eyes were wide with nerves.

"Are you sure we won't need it Imany? I could hide it in my -"

Imany snatched it off her.

"I told you not to bring anythin'! We're fish outta water we need to be discreet. My god how did you get in the revolution? A pigeon could beat you up."

Sermon cocked his head up, "yea and what would you do? Email it a complaint? Kash and I could have concealed our pieces and brought them with us. Where would you have hid that wazikashi, or do I need to ask?"

"It's a katana, and it's pronounced wakizashi. Wazikashi must be one of those anime boyfriends you fell in love with. The knife stays in the car with Jason. You rely on me."

Kasia watched her only defence get locked in the glovebox. She had spent the journey not wanting it to end. Now it was over, fear set in. The vagrants involved danger but not social anxiety. Islington was full of both, and in her haste for meaning, Kasia had overlooked that the only people who would raise Eva without exploiting her were in this car. She kept telling herself she wasn't breaking any rules.

Jason got back in the drivers seat and offered everyone a weak smile.

"Don't worry eh guys? No one's breakin' any rules!"

Imany grimaced at the road ahead and pulled herself outside. Sermon turned away muttering and forced himself out too.

Kasia cursed her life through gritted teeth and followed.