The Execution Channel by MacLeod Ken

Author:MacLeod, Ken [MacLeod, Ken]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
ISBN: 9781405519403
Publisher: Hachette Littlehampton
Published: 2012-06-07T07:00:00+00:00

Mark Dark sometimes dozed in the daytime after a late night, and slept outright after pulling an all-nighter, but he never let his mother know this. Whatever happened, he was always up and about before she was, busy before she left for work, and awake when she came home. Coming in from the strip-mall at seven in the morning with fresh waffles, hot coffee and a couple of early editions in time for her breakfast burnished this image, and he did it when he could.

Sandra licked maple syrup off the crook of a finger, put down the sticky bottle, and stared across the table for long enough for Mark to notice and look up.

‘Your friends in England. Are they all right?’

‘I don’t know, Mom. Most of the guys I met were from London.’

‘That’s in England.’

‘Yeah, Mom, but it’s a long way from Scotland. There are no Libertarians in Scotland. Well, there’s one in Edinburgh. I’ll email him.’

‘You do that.’ Her gaze became reminiscent. ‘I was so proud when you gave a paper at that conference.’

‘So was I, Mom. It was great.’ Mark felt slightly guilty about this subject. He’d talked up the Libertarian Alliance conference, where two years and six months or so ago he’d given a talk on Internet conspiracy theories, so much that he’d left Sandra with the abiding impression that he had been a star speaker at a major scholarly symposium whose proceeedings were eagerly awaited and closely studied by government advisers and intelligence experts around the globe. He’d long since paid back the three hundred dollars he’d thus wheedled from her towards his airline ticket, but the white lies still made him blush.

‘All those lawmakers and professors you met. You should write to them. Ask what we can do to help.’

Sandra had the impression – not in this instance at Mark’s insinuation – that Members of Parliament were enormously important and powerful figures. A Tory backbencher had been on a panel about Europe, another had delivered a witty after-dinner speech. Having had a beer with one, applauded the other, and shaken hands with both was evidence as far as Sandra was concerned that her son had a hotline to the nerve centre of the British Establishment.

‘I’ll do that if I have time. But I don’t think the Brits need any help.’

‘With all those terrorist attacks and Muslim riots? Sure they do. Everyone was talking about it at the church last night. We could send care packages for the refugees.’

‘Last I heard, it was the Muslims who’re being displaced.’

‘I know that, Mark. And last I heard, Christians are supposed to help anyone who needs help.’

Mark tackled a piece of bacon and a gulp of coffee before replying. He didn’t trust himself to sound reasonable straight away.

‘You’re totally right, Mom,’ he said. ‘And I will ask, OK? But … well, I kind of think it’s up to the Brits, you know? I mean, it’s the Brits – well, some of the whites, anyway – who’re pushing out the Muslims.

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