Regeneration by Stephanie Saulter

installed in the river and the city.” She gestured at the window, towardSinkat. “We can’t know for certain what impact that will have on the marine environment. It’s also vulnerable in a way that a closed and secured plant isn’t.”
    “Are you suggesting,” Mikal asked tersely, “that the facilities might be targeted ?” Sharon’s account of the previous night’s sabotage was vivid inside his head. He treated Moira Charles to a slow, loaded, double-lidded blink.
    She glanced away. “I hope no one would be so irresponsible. But desperate people do foolish things, and it’s much harder, with an open site, to protect against intrusion—or accident. It’s also not clear how a company as unconventional as Thames Tidal would react if something were to go wrong.” The sharp gaze was back on him now.
    “I see,” he said. He thought he did, now. “So what would your recommendation be, Ms. Charles, were something unfortunate to happen?”
    “They should be transparent—accept assistance. Utilize the expertise of the wider industry. We really do think a more collegial approach would be beneficial.”
    “So you’re hoping that in the event of some . . . how can I put this? . . . threat to the project, wiser heads would prevail?”
    “I am, and I’m confident that you’d be one of them.”
    That knocked him back. He didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “You have a great deal of faith in me, Ms. Charles.”
    “I believe it’s merited. We pay attention to the politics of this city, Councillor Varsi, and we’re impressed by how effective and evenhanded you’ve been.” A soft chime sounded, the signal that their time had come to an end, and she got to her feet. “I look forward to a long and cordial relationship, here, or in Westminster.”
    He had risen also and now he stared down at her in consternation. “I beg your pardon?”
    Her laugh was high, and false. “I’m sure you know there are rumors that you’ll stand for Parliament at the next election.”
    “I wouldn’t win.”
    “You might.”
    He managed to keep the incredulity off his face, but only just. Standard BioSolutions are in the pocket of the Traditional Democrats. Or vice versa. Either she’s telling me they’re switching sides, or this is a Trad play—but for me? Both possibilities were equally implausible.
    “Independents do better at local level,” he said. “I’d have no chance without the support of a party.” He looked at her inquiringly.
    “That wouldn’t be difficult to get,” she replied. “The question is, which one?”
    “You think there’s more than one option?”
    “I know there are.”
    “That’s an interesting proposition, Ms. Charles.” The floor beneath his feet felt like it had become the deck of a ship, tossing on an uncharted sea. “I’ll have to give it some thought.”
    “Excellent.” She smiled, a smile so insincere that it might as well have been a frown, and shook his hand again, brisk and brief. “I’ll be in touch.”

5
    Aryel Morningstar dropped out of a blustery sky, landing between a row of battered water tanks and a cooling tower and sending a few pigeons fluttering up in alarm. She stepped further into the tower’s shadow and scanned the roofscape and grounds of the blocky, faceless complex of buildings. She would have been picked up by the security cams of course, but she was relieved not to see any actual people: an advantage of the early hour and inclement weather. She had planned for one and was thankful for the other, although the sky was gray and lowering, and the sharp bite to the wind told her that the inconstant lashing rain she had flown through could at any moment turn to sleet.
    The fenced and gated yards were deserted, as was the wide strip of treeless, sodden lawn surrounding the compound. The perimeter wall with its rampart of barbed wire covered in bird droppings bordered an urban hinterland of cracked pavements and crumbling warehouses. Nothing moved