Page 97 of Babel

‘But you didn’t even ask Griffin, did you?’ Ramy demanded. ‘Three years. Lord, Birdie.’

‘I was trying to protect you,’ Robin said helplessly.

Ramy scoffed. ‘From what? Precisely the community we wanted?’

‘I didn’t want to put you at risk—’

‘Why didn’t you let me decide that for myself?’

‘Because I knew you’d say yes,’ Robin said. ‘Because you’d join up with them on the spot and abdicate everything at Babel, everything you’ve worked for—’

‘Everything I’ve worked for is this!’ Ramy exclaimed. ‘What, you think I came to Babel because I want to be a translator for the Queen? Birdie, I hate it in this country. I hate the way they look at me, I hate being passed around at their wine parties like an animal on display. I hate knowing that my very presence at Oxford is a betrayal of my race and religion, because I’m becoming just that class of person Macaulay hoped to create. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like Hermes since I got here—’

‘But that’s just it,’ said Robin. ‘That’s precisely why it was too risky for you—’

‘And it’s not for you?’

‘No,’ Robin said, suddenly angry. ‘It wasn’t.’

He didn’t have to say why. Robin, whose father was on the faculty, who could pass for white under the right lighting, at the right angles, was shielded in a way Ramy and Victoire were not. If Ramy or Victoire had faced the police that night, they wouldn’t have been on this ship, they would have been behind bars, or worse.

Ramy’s throat pulsed. ‘Damn it, Robin.’

‘I’m sure it wasn’t easy,’ Victoire said, trying valiantly to broker a peace. ‘They’re so strict with their secrecy, you remember—’

‘Yes, but we know each other.’ Ramy shot Robin a glare. ‘Or at least I thought we did.’

‘Hermes is messy,’ Robin insisted. ‘They’ve ignored my warnings, they hang their members out to dry, and it wouldn’t have done you any good to be sent down your first year—’

‘I would have been careful,’ Ramy scoffed. ‘I’m not like you, I’m not scared of my own shadow—’

‘But you’re not careful,’ Robin said, exasperated. So they were trading insults now. So they were being frank now. ‘You were caught, weren’t you? You’re impulsive, you don’t think – the moment anyone insults your pride you lash out—’

‘Then what about Victoire?’

‘Victoire’s...’ Robin trailed off. He had no defence. He hadn’t told Victoire about Hermes because he’d assumed she had too much to lose, but there was no good way to say this out loud, or to justify its logic.

She knew what he meant. She would not meet his pleading look.

‘Thank God for Anthony,’ was all she said.

‘I’ve just one more question,’ Ramy said abruptly. He was really, truly furious, Robin realized. This was not merely a burst of Ramy-esque passion. This was something they perhaps could not come back from. ‘What did you say to make it go away? What’d you give up?’

Robin couldn’t lie to Ramy’s face. He wanted to; he was so afraid of the truth, and of the way Ramy would look at him when he heard it, but this he could not hide. It would rip him apart. ‘He wanted information.’

‘And so?’

‘So I gave him information.’

Victoire touched a hand to her mouth. ‘Everything?’

‘Just what I knew,’ Robin said. ‘Which wasn’t much, Griffin made sure of it – I never even knew what he did with the books I took out for him. All I told Lovell about was one safe room at St Aldate’s.’

It didn’t help. She still looked at him as if he’d kicked a puppy.

‘Are you mad?’ Ramy asked.

‘It didn’t matter,’ Robin insisted. ‘Griffin’s never there, he told me himself – and I bet they haven’t even caught him, he’s so incredibly paranoid; I bet he’s already out of the country by now.’