Avocado was not difficult to find. He was waiting for her in a coffee house on Tier
One, a cup of cold brew before him and an expression of philosophical acceptance clothing
him like a second coat.
AVOCADO: "Thou hast been to the sub-archive."
AGENT KALE: "And I have Fennel's notebook, and V's key, and a letter from a
murdered archivist telling me to trust the person who hath been leaving golden
marks on the walls of this city. That is thee."
AVOCADO: "Yes. I began leaving the marks the day thou boarded the train. I had
contacts on the platform. I needed thee to know thou wert being guided, not hunted
— but I could not approach directly until thou hadst gathered enough of the picture
to understand what I was going to tell thee."
AGENT KALE: "The letter from V. Thou knowest of it."
AVOCADO: "I found it seven years ago. V was my ancestor. Three generations
removed. A condiment who passed their accounts to a fruit family as protective
insurance. I have spent six years understanding V's plan and one year preparing
what it asked of me."
AGENT KALE: "Fennel's letter says he found the door. The real door, in Tier
Zero. He says a second key is needed — one always existing, one created by V. I
have V's key. He says the existing key is carried by thee."
Avocado reached into his coat and produced a key that was the twin of the one she
carried — different in design but clearly made to work in tandem. He placed it on the table
between them.
AVOCADO: "V left one key with the heir. V's own key remained in the archive.
The plan required both to be present simultaneously — which required two people
who trusted each other enough to stand at the same door at the same moment."
AGENT KALE: "V could not know we would trust each other."
AVOCADO: "V could not know. But V could select for the conditions. An heir who
had done what I have done — spent a year orchestrating a crisis at considerable
personal risk, for a purpose larger than personal gain — is not someone who trusts
lightly. And an agent who has followed the evidence this far, against the resistance
of three criminal organisations and a three-hundred-year-old conspiracy, is not
someone easily fooled."
She regarded him. He regarded her. The coffee house was quiet in the particular way
that places become quiet when they are being listened to.
AGENT KALE: "Thou hast stolen the Accord, manipulated three intelligence
services, and used me as an instrument without my knowledge."
AVOCADO: "Yes. And I am sorry for the ambiguity."
AGENT KALE: "There is a Frozen One. An opposing heir. She had Fennel killed.
She is working with the Pith Cartel and has made financial arrangements with
Don Baguette's Grain Cartel."
AVOCADO: "I know. She and I have been racing each other for three months. She
reached the sub-archive before me — I arrived to find Fennel's second envelope
already placed. She had been there and left, either because she did not find what
she was looking for, or because she did not know what she was looking for. I
believe the latter. She knows the door exists. She does not know it requires two
keys."
AGENT KALE: "She will follow us to Tier Zero."
AVOCADO: "Yes. Which means we must be faster than her. And we must have
allies at the entrance. The Bran Flake twins, if Cornflake will release them.
Chickpea's network on Tier One. And — this may surprise thee — Vinaigrette."
AGENT KALE: "The head of the Peeler Mafia."
AVOCADO: "She does not want the door opened. She also does not want the
Frozen One to control what is behind it. Given a choice between the status quo and
the Frozen One's victory, she will choose the status quo. And the status quo, at this
moment, means helping us."
AGENT KALE: "What dost thou require of me?"
AVOCADO: "The door. Tonight. And after that — a printing press, a broadcast
signal, and thy voice."
AGENT KALE: "Then let us move."