by S. J. Higbee
Ermina poured the measure of mushmouth for me which I carefully emptied into the most active tank. We all held our breath looking at it, while a crooning Vrox caressed it, leaving his trademark scratches across the tank. Almost immediately there was a burst of bubbling, followed by a flash of bioluminescence – the first we’d seen since Kaila had unlocked the Node, other than those we’d coaxed during our mind-tickles.
I hollered alongside the ululating women, as everyone hugged each other, clapped and capered around the room. They broke into song, presumably another of Mother’s efforts judging by the atonal tunelessness.
It was Vrox’s impatient howl that brought the celebrating to an end and quite right, too. The ailing tanks weren’t out of danger. So I poured a measure of mushmouth into each one and we all stood watching it, expectant and hopeful. Ermina and I agreed that one of them was less dull and cloudy and the readings were slightly improved, but the other was unchanged.
By now it was dark and most of the watching crowd outside the gates had funnelled off to the village canteen for supper. Leaving was out of the question while the tanks were still so sick and I was touched by how many of Mother’s followers elected to also stay. Once we shut the door, the heaters automatically came on, but the faint background taint of rotten fruit rapidly built to something more intense and revolting, so we kept the door open. Apart from anything else, the stench seemed to be upsetting the tanks.
I didn’t know they were affected by smells. Is this general knowledge? Fortunately, the night-time temperatures were comfortable, certainly for Vrox and me, used to the cool Gloriosan climate. More importantly, the Node tanks were quite happy. As for supper, Master Chef used Mother’s firepit to sear camel steaks served with chargrilled vegetables and baked yams, which improved the mantivore’s mood. Dessert was one of Ajene’s cadia fruit cakes served with sweet zephyr sauce – my absolute favourite. It was also a solid pleasure to be able to invite all who’d helped to share the meal.
I spent a chunk of the night mind-tickling the tanks and obsessively poring over the readings, which steadily improved. When I became too tired to keep my eyes open, I curled up on a corner of Vrox’s heated bed, now moved into the Node, and fell into sleep. While Vrox continually paced the Node, churring encouragement and running his clawed paws across the tanks.
CHAPTER NINE
I woke up throughout the night. Once when Vrox crashed down alongside me, and several other times when yanked into wakefulness by nightmares. The usual ones – where Uncle Trislen and Beal Gator were slowly cooked in front of me, or sometimes their faces blurred into those of the other men I’d murdered, Grote and Jayden. Each time, panting and drenched in cold sweat, I got up to check the tanks. While most were still cloudier than I liked, they were at least starting to bubble and their readings were moving upwards. But the sickest one was still looking like a nemmet’s breakfast – a nasty sludge-brown colour with not a flicker of bioluminescence and while the readings had slightly improved, the organi-pack was still in the danger zone.
By dawn, everyone was up and my staff was busy serving porridge to anyone who wanted it. Given we were all chilled and stiff, it was very welcome. While the sun edged clear of the horizon, covering the garden… the Nodery… everyone around me… in a copper-coloured wash, I found myself sitting cross-legged around the firepit with most of Mai’s followers, joining in the laughter as Idaline Ferry mimicked Cupert Peaceman’s efforts with his accordion, complete with the wheezes and sick-donkey noises. A drop of happiness in amongst the dross.
Which came to an end all too soon when Vrox crashed into my head, angry I was laughing while the Node was suffering so.
After being escorted back to Felina’s to shower and change, Vrox and I set off once more for the Custody Suite, intending to get Felina out of there.
I could almost taste the tense unhappiness as I walked through the door. Damita was sitting in her customary place at the console, set-faced and pale, while Cupert was busy yelling at her for allowing the prisoner out of her cell, again. Said prisoner was slumped on a bench, listlessly stirring a bowl of vile-looking gruel.
“A shady morning to you,” I said. “Where are these forms I need to sign to get Mistress Keeper out of here?”
“So sorry to disappoint you, Your Ladyship,” said Cupert. Though he didn’t look remotely sorry. More like he’d won the Gathering Day lottery as an unpleasant grin crawled across his face. “There’s the matter of the MindTrawl.”
“MindTrawl?” My stomach slithered to somewhere around my knees.
“Felina Keeper has legally agreed to a MindTrawl. I have the doc here on my tab,” he said, waving the roaching thing in my face. “And given she is still the chief suspect as Mother Mai’s murderer, I’m afraid we have no choice but to go ahead with it.”
I’ll bet Cupert forced her into signing this! “When?”
“Mr Detective is due later this morning,” said Damita.
Cupert’s look at her was poisonous enough to kill a camel. “We’ll get it done before then. Save him the bother.”
“That depends. Who’s going to conduct this MindTrawl?”
“I’ve spoken to Beneth Healer and she is perfectly happy to do the procedure,” announced Cupert.
“I’ll just bet she is,” muttered Damita, hunched over the console.
As if on cue, Beneth appeared, trailing her hover-gurney in her wake. “Greetings, people— Oh, Your Ladyship – a thousand pardons – I didn’t see you!” She curtsied as if we hadn’t spent long hours discussing poor old Osmar’s pressure sores or how I could tempt him to eat more.
“Greetings Mistress Healer,” I replied, wondering why I was so angry, when yesterday I found Kestor’s lack of respect just as aggravating.
Vrox huffs. These days, Cub is often displeased for no good reason.
“Don’t make me take off my shoe. Not today,” said Felina, wearily.
Cupert swung around, swelling with aggression, clearly all set to yell at her for opening her mouth, when he caught sight of Vrox’s baleful glare as the mantivore settled by Felina’s side. He tried to cover his bullying impulse with an unconvincing cough, while I fought my own impulse to punch him on the nose. Indeed, it was an effort to unclench my fist.
That you, Vrox?
The mantivore appeared to be dozing by Felina’s side, but his left eyelid twitch meant he was up to something. Though I couldn’t be sure whether he’d been messing with my mind, again, or if there was something else…
Felina sighed and jabbed him with her foot, without even looking down at him.
So she feels it too and is ignoring him while he’s being a nemmet-hearted nuisance.
Beneth Healer’s scrubbed neatness seemed to highlight the keeper’s bedraggled state, with her uncombed hair and rumpled clothes. The healer’s wide smile included everyone in the room, even Cupert. “I’ve been reading up on the procedure and collected all the equipment I could possibly need—”
“Surely, you’ve done this before?”
“I’ve assisted, of course.”
“Of course,” I echoed, not returning her smile. “As the lead medic, though. How many times have you performed a MindTrawl in that capacity?”
No smiles now, Beneth bit her lip. “Well, I haven’t yet performed this particular operation as the main healer, but—”
“I’m afraid I can’t possibly allow you to conduct this MindTrawl, given your lack of experience.” You can tip your shoddy excitement over the chance to dig around her skull into the Salamander – I thought you were her solid friend! As Overlord, I’d read the official stats on the outcomes of MindTrawls and MindReams. And the two procedures weren’t as far apart in the incidence of nasty side effects as prosecutors and their healers liked to make out. I raised my eyebrows. “Please don’t let us detain you, Mistress Healer. I’m sure you must have patients to attend to.”
Her mouth drooped. “I’d take every possible precaution, Your Ladyship.”
“Excep
t the precaution of possessing sufficient experience to know exactly what to do in a heartbeat should anything go wrong, given we’re hours away from any prime-level neuro-rejen equipment.” When did I turn into this grumpy Uppie, who snaps at every fuse-brain and hem-hugger around me? Talking of fuse-brains… I turned to Cupert, raising my voice over the racket Beneth made as she spun her hover gurney around and headed for the door. “What progress have you made in looking into the investigation of my mother’s death?” Even as the words fall out of my mouth, it still doesn’t seem real…
He blinked. “Your Ladyship?”
I gritted my teeth. Has he always been such a sunblasted crip-wit? “My mother. Mai Brarian – she was murdered. How far have you got with the investigation?”
He still stared at me as if I’d grown scales and glowed in the dark. “I’ve arrested the perpetrator, Your Ladyship.” He gestured towards Felina. “I’ve taken statements that demonstrate her whereabouts at the time of the crime cannot be confirmed by anyone—”
“Mother was murdered during the noonblast naptime! I’m guessing half the roaching village can’t confirm their whereabouts.”
“May I ask where you obtained your information, Your Ladyship? All details of the—”
“I’m the Overlord. She’s my mother.” I folded my arms. “So what else have you found out?”
“I have established that Mistress Keeper, here, had ample motive for killing the victim, Your Ladyship,” he announced, drawing himself up, as if this was solid proof of Felina’s guilt.
“Really? I heard they’d quarrelled over a broken fridge. D’you think that would be motive enough for Felina to get up in the middle of the noonblast, sneak into Mother’s house and strangle her? Cos I’m not convinced.” I added, “What about evidence?”
Cupert attempted a simpering grin. “In cases such as these, Your Ladyship, we don’t need evidence. We have the incontrovertible proof—”
“Proof?” It was an effort to keep my voice conversational, but I managed it. So far, Vrox had stayed quietly by Felina’s side with not so much as a wrinkled lip in Cupert’s direction, but I knew if I got angry, he’d be right alongside, further stirring things up. I wanted to avoid any such confrontation, mostly to spare Felina, who didn’t look like she had it in her to rein in Vrox this morning. And he was already roiling over the business of the sick tank in the Nodery, as well as our inability to free Felina.
Wonder if Vrox would be so protective of me if I were in trouble?
A wave of smug satisfaction washes through Vrox at Cub’s thought.
I’m not jealous! A solid waste of my effort, because we both knew I was.
“Why yes, Your Ladyship. I think you’ll find that once the MindTrawl has been completed, we will have the proof we’re looking for.” Cupert’s grin oozed triumph. “Beneth Healer has done a preliminary MindScan and ascertained that there is something amiss about Felina Keeper’s mind profile. Something that may well be incriminating.”
I glanced across at her. She was staring blankly at the floor, evidently seeing something else. She’s most likely yabbering away to Vrox, or maybe comatose with fear…
I recalled those dark moments before my Court appearance. Something I didn’t often do, given I’d been nearly sick with terror and grimly convinced they were all set to compost me, which indeed was the case. Even though Felina had brought me beautiful, clean clothes so I wouldn’t appear like some sunslagged field hand… I saw her dishevelled hair and dusty overalls, blotched with sweat stains.
She shouldn’t have to face Mr Detective looking like this! Cursing myself for my crip-witted slowness, I asked, “Has Mistress Keeper had a shower this morning?”
“No, Your Ladyship.” Cupert’s smirk at Felina was full of spiteful triumph. “Apologies for her nasty stench, but the water allocation for the prisoner has already been used up for the week.”
Damita shifted, muttering under her breath.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I’m happy to let her have some of my wash-water,” she said.
“Thank you, but it’s not necessary. My own allocation is wet-wittedly generous, so I’ve more than enough to spare. I’ll arrange it, if you’ll allow me.” I smiled at Damita, unwilling to tread on her corns by taking over her console without leastways recognising her authority, yet still being suitably bossy and Overlordly about it.
To my relief, Damita yielded her seat to me without any apparent resentment. It was a shock to discover it wasn’t much more comfortable than the other instrument of torture they called a chair. She’ll be a crippled wreck if she goes on sitting at this console in this seat…
Focusing on the task in hand, I called for assistance. My stylist jumped at the chance to fiddle around with someone else’s hair and after having retained Larold and his hover trolley for the duration of my stay yesterday, he was eager to ferry the pile of clothes I listed, my stylist’s box of tools and a selection of my perfumes and scented soaps from Felina’s house over to the Custody Suite.
I was able to override Cupert’s blustering protests, given there was a legal requirement on the care and maintenance of prisoner health. Felina had told me about it when Cupert had wanted to incarcerate me in the Custody Suite while I still recovering from Demri’s beating – not that she’d given it a mention this time around.
“Well! I’ll be vac’d endways into the longest goodnight,” exclaimed Madam Stylist as she fluttered into the stinky room, immaculately dressed as always. “Oh greetings, Your Ladyship – always a pleasure to serve. Though…” She peered at me, evidently wondering why I’d summoned her. “I’m not quite sure what you want me to do. Unless it’s a new look?”
I gestured to Felina. “Mistress Keeper, here, is in need of your expertise, Madam.”
“Oi, just a roaching min—” protested Felina, inconveniently pulling out of her torpor.
Waving her to silence, I continued, “She’s unjustly facing a MindTrawl and as you can see, she’s a challenge.”
Madam clapped her hands like an excited child. “Oh she is! She really is! Oh, Your Ladyship – what an opportunity!”
Felina glared at Madam, gathering herself to be difficult.
I rushed across the room, sat down on the bench beside her and put my hand on her arm, gabbling, “Please, Felina – don’t go all Scary Storekeeper on us. Madam Stylist, here, is cresting at what she does, which is to make people look their Uppie best. And yes – I know you’re not an Uppie. But Mr Detective is from Gloriosa and how folks dress and fix their hair – these things matter to Gloriosans. More than it should, to be honest. But there it is. And I want him to slice you plenty of free air while he MindTrawls you.”
She stared at me. “And what aren’t you telling me about this MindTrawl? Cos I thought it was just a more thorough MindScan, but since you found out I’m having one, you been twitching about the place like a jaspered chicken.”
Should’ve known she’d realise there’s a slurrypit around the corner. Don’t want her panicked over the whole business, cos that causes problems, too… “MindTrawls aren’t necessarily straightline. They go best if you relax, though.”
“And the best news of the day – I’ve worked out a spinny look for you that’ll make the most of your unique qualities!” announced Madam Stylist.
Once I persuaded Felina that Madam Stylist wasn’t sarcastically mouthwhacking her, but just being generally enthusiastic, she allowed herself to be swept along in the organised mayhem that always ensued once Madam Stylist started working and the rest of the morning slid into a tilted, Gloriosan version of itself, once Felina emerged from her shower, a lot cleaner, pinker and smelling strongly of one of the most expensive perfumes on the planet.
“Emptied the tiny bottle with the silver-looking top all over me,” she said. “There wasn’t much in it, anyhow.”
I imagined the look on Clete Gator’s face if he knew exactly where his oh-so-expensive gift ended up, and grinned at her. Despite all the tens
ion and danger waiting to ambush us, I was still happier here than being back in Brarian Place trudging through my daily Overlord schedule.
Cupert was shooed out of the Security Suite by Madam Stylist. It made my year to see the shock-stalled look on his face, as he tried to work out how he slid from being In Charge to becoming just another pointless male in the way.
And when Madam Stylist bounced across to Vrox, the mantivore scrabbled to his feet, gouging chips out of the stone floor in his haste to leave. “Ah, there you are!” she exclaimed, patting him on the snout. “One of these days, I’m going to get the chance to spend time with you, you lovely boy! You’d look divine with ribbons of gold and silver across those amazing scales of yours.”
This queen is too demanding. Vrox needs to go. Right now.
Aware that he was very short-fused over his concern for the Node and stressed at not being able to fully protect Felina, I cut him some free air. “Vrox is sorry that he is needed at the Nodery and can no longer stay.”
I’ll tell you when Madam Stylist has gone… I Sent.
Not that he bothered to so much as throw a grateful glance in my direction, too busy crooning his apologies to Felina for deserting her. Until she gave him permission to leave with a sudden dazzling grin.
At some stage, Ajene Stitcher joined us. She and Madam Stylist were chatting about Felina’s amazing bone structure and stunningly unusual eyes like lifelong friends, while Felina rolled those stunning eyes. “Enough of this wet-witted nonsense. I’m a fat woman well past her Prime date. Nothing special about me, these days.”
You’ll always be special. You walk into the room and it suddenly feels more vivid and real – unless you’re stenched or sad. Then your anger or unhappiness writhes around you like smoke… No wonder Vrox has fallen in love with you.
Despite her protests she, too, was swept along by Madam Stylist’s excitement, as they altered one of Felina’s best dresses to fit her better and I loaned her one of Uncle Trislen’s formal variweave cloaks with a vibrant pattern in blue and green that flickered and changed, emulating the bioluminescent colouring of mantivore scales. A fashion classic in Gloriosa enjoyed by the elite, it had recently seen a return to general popularity, thanks to Vrox’s presence at many trendedge social gatherings.
