Page 274 of Never
‘That’s called arms control.’ Pauline kissed Pippa. ‘And that, my clever daughter, is the beginning of wisdom.’ She had spent a long time explaining life to Pippa, but she had to take care of all the other Americans too. She picked up the remote for the TV. ‘Let’s watch the news.’
An anchor said: ‘Millions of American homes and workplaces are without electricity this morning after faults developed in the computers of several different power providers. Some commentators suspect that the faults have all been caused by the release of a single software virus.’
Pauline said: ‘It’s the Chinese.’
‘Can they do that?’
‘Yes. And we’re probably doing similar things to them. It’s called cyber warfare.’
‘Lucky we’re okay here.’
‘This place has an independent power supply.’
‘I wonder why they decided to attack the power to ordinary homes?’
‘It’s one of a dozen different things they will have tried. Ideally they want to sabotage military communications, so that we can’t launch missiles and scramble planes. But our military software is heavily defended. Civilian security systems aren’t as good.’
Pippa looked hard at Pauline and said perceptively: ‘Your words are reassuring but your face is worried.’
‘You’re right, honey. I think we can survive the cyberattack. But something else is worrying me. In Chinese military philosophy the cyberattack is a prelude. What follows is real war.’
***
Abdul drove out of Nice heading west along the coast, with Kiah beside him and Naji strapped into a child seat in the back. He had bought a small two-door family car, three years old. The driving position was a bit cramped for his tall frame but it was all right for short distances.
The road ran beside deserted Mediterranean beaches and restaurants shuttered for winter. There were traffic jams in Paris and other big cities as frightened people headed for the countryside, but the Côte d’Azur was an unlikely nuclear target, and although people here were scared they could not think of anywhere safer to go.
Kiah had little knowledge of global politics and was only vaguely aware of nuclear weapons, so she did not appreciate the awfulness of what might happen, and Abdul did not enlighten her.
He stopped the car at a large marina in a small town. He checked a device in his pocket and was reassured by a signal the same as the one he had picked up on his first visit here, two days earlier.
He parked the little car and he and Kiah got out and inhaled the bracing sea air. They put on the new winter coats they had bought in Galeries Lafayette. The sun was warm, but there was a breeze, and for people used to the Sahara Desert this was cold weather. Kiah had picked a tailored black cloth coat with a fur collar that made her look like a princess. Abdul had a blue reefer jacket that gave him a nautical air.
Kiah got Naji into his new down coat and knitted hat. Abdul unfolded the stroller and they made Naji comfortable in it. ‘I’ll push him,’ Kiah said.
‘I’ll do it, I don’t mind.’
‘It’s demeaning for a man. I don’t want people to think you’re henpecked.’
Abdul smiled. ‘French people don’t think like that.’
‘Have you looked around? There are thousands of Arabs in this part of the world.’
It was true. The area of Nice in which they were living had a high percentage of ethnic North Africans.
Abdul shrugged. It really did not matter who pushed the stroller, and in time Kiah would probably change her ideas. There was no need to hurry her.
They ambled around the marina. Abdul had thought that maybe Naji would like to see the boats, but it was Kiah who reacted. She was amazed. She had been a boat owner, but she had never seen vessels like this. The smallest cabin cruiser seemed astonishingly luxurious to her. On some of them the owners were cleaning or painting or just sitting having drinks. There was a handful of large ocean-going yachts. Abdul stopped to look at one calledMi Amore. Crew in white uniforms were washing the windows. ‘It’s bigger than the house I used to live in!’ Kiah said. ‘What is it for?’
‘It’s for him.’ Abdul pointed to a man in a big chunky sweater sitting on the sun deck with two young women who were underdressed for the weather and looked cold. They were drinking champagne. ‘Just for his pleasure.’
‘I wonder where he got all that money?’
Abdul knew where the man had got the money.
They walked around the marina for an hour. There were four cafés, three closed and one open though not busy. Inside it was clean and warm, with gleaming silver coffee machines and a briskly efficient proprietor who smiled at Naji and told them to sit anywhere they liked. They chose a table by the window with a good view of the boats, includingMi Amore. They took off their coats and ordered hot chocolate and pastries.
Abdul cooled some of the drink on a spoon and fed it to Naji. He loved it and asked for more.
