Free Expatria: The Box Set by Keith Brooke Page B

underground wanted to play wherever there was an audience, but wherever they played they stirred up trouble. The bars and clubs simply didn't want them. The underground wanted to get on to Clermont's collective council, too, they wanted street politics to run all of the island, not just the port of Orlyons.
    Vera-Lynne Perse wanted to change the world, and instantly, but Mathias had never been quite sure how . He doubted whether Vera-Lynne did either; she was just kissing a stranger at MidNight and hoping she could muddle her way through, as she always had.
    'You won at the cards, did you?'
    She had tried this angle before. Next she would mention Françime.
    'You were taught by the best,' she continued. 'Françime Boucher was unbeatable at one time. I opposed her only once. She took everything. One learns, like that.'
    'No, Vera-Lynne. Not me.'
    She looked at him with her hurt expression. Once, he had found that attractive—she wanted only to be 'won over'—but now his response was a mere echo of what he had once felt.
    'Look, Vera, I know Françime is on the collective council. I know she has sympathies with people like us, from when she was one of us. And yes, I know I still see her occasionally. But she reached where she is by ignoring outside pressures, by putting herself forwards. I can't influence her, Vera. You should know that.' He shrugged. 'And anyway, I've left all that behind. I don't want to get involved, it doesn't do any good. That's one thing Orlyons has taught me: whatever the people at the top may think, they don't run things, life goes on whatever they decide. You're wasting your time, Vera-Lynne. Why don't you just enjoy life? I didn't see you at MidNight.'
    'You could at least try ,' said Vera-Lynne. 'Everybody should have the chance to hear the new music. It feeds the soul. You do have influence, Matt, you just don't want to use it. You were scared of it in Newest Delhi—I've heard your stories, Matt, I can make my own interpretations—and now you're scared of it in Orlyons. You haven't changed one bit, Matt. Not where it matters. You're still the same irresponsible boy you were.'
    Vera-Lynne hurried away.
    Mathias didn't understand. She had no reason to let go at him like that. She must know that he could do nothing; what made her think he had any influence in Orlyons? That sort of thing was far behind him, now.
    He didn't know what to think. He decided to look for Mono; at least she would not confront him.
    'Hey, Slide!' He had spotted a friend standing in the mouth of a narrow alley. Slide was the best trombonist on the island, good with the mouth-organ, too. 'Have you seen Mono? I'm looking for her.'
    Slide shook his head. 'Guess she's somewhere in Gentian Quarter, hawking vee, I guess.' Slide was spaced out; MidNight had clearly been a good one for him. Mathias set off for the Gentian Quarter, hoping Mono hadn't found a client yet. He wanted to talk.
    ~
    Mathias had met Mono soon after his arrival in Orlyons. When Vera-Lynne had still been into partying Mono had been one of the group she mixed with. The two women were musicians and when they weren't jamming or partying they were arguing about the blues and the new music and why the clubs wouldn't let them play.
    Mono had always blamed the underground. Songs like Paragon of the Dead and Killing Mothers is Fun (Parts I and III) were what put people off; singers saying 'If you believe in yourself wreck something' were the problem. Now, even traditional music was banished to the streets. Vera-Lynne always said she was missing the point, but she never seemed to say what the point was. Mono just wanted to play her stately old Gibson Semi-A, and sing a few soulful phrases. Vera-Lynne wanted to fight, her saxophone was a weapon and she screamed through it at anyone who would listen.
    Mono was a real artiste, she had a natural gift for her music, she could make that old Gibson sing, she could make it weep, she could make it tell any story she wanted. She