by S. J. Higbee
Madam Stylist worked wonders with Felina’s hair, snipping off the uneven ends, adding silvered highlights and putting it in a light stasis hold. She completed Felina’s new look with a clip on the side of her head just above her ear in the shape of a butterfly decorated with sapphires and emeralds and a matching necklace. Madam smeared skin-tightening cream across her face, easing away the seamed wrinkles around her eyes which made her look at least a decade younger. Which was when I realised that Ajene and Madam were right – her eyes were stunningly unusual. Those flecks of silver in her irises weren’t just a trick of the light and as the precious stones reflected them, they shifted into shades of deeper blue and green.
“Thank you muchly,” whispered Damita, staring at her wide-eyed. “She’s had the shoddiest time. And there wasn’t much I could do…”
“I’m planning on taking her back with me when I return to Gloriosa. Though she doesn’t know it yet,” I muttered. “Come with us.”
That wary coolness slammed back in place. “Oh yeah? And what’d I do in Uppieland, then? Other than waft about hugging your hem, that is.”
I shrugged. “It’s the biggest city on the planet, so there’s lots going on. Decide when you get there. What you won’t be doing is having Cupert wordslicing you into diced-sized pieces all and every day. Or break your back on that thing,” I added, gesturing to her chair.
“What’s the catch?”
I returned her look, wishing I could take off my goggles so she could see I meant it. “There isn’t one. I’ve been where you are now and it’s a hard place to be.”
She looked away, biting her lip. “I… thank you – but there’s Demri. Can’t leave him here.”
“Bring him with you. So long as you keep him under control.”
She arched her eyebrows in a familiar gesture I thought I’d inherited from Mai. “You’d let me bring Demri along?”
“So long as he’s safe,” I repeated, wondering why it mattered so much to have Damita return to Gloriosa with me.
“I’ll just bet your precious Seth won’t see it like that,” she muttered.
Seth needs to make his peace with this shoddy slice of his past, whether he wants to or not. I’m guessing it’s probably eating holes in that oh-so-proper conscience of his anyway… “Whatever went down tween Seth and your brother shouldn’t stop you getting free of this nemmet nest.” Felina was staring across at us, clearly curious. “Anyway, the offer’s there. No strings. Whatever you want to do, I’ll make sure you’ve sufficient to set you up.”
“Wish I knew why you’re bothering,” she muttered.
“Cos…” I took a breath. “I don’t like all of this. Fact is, I plain hate it. But sometimes I get a chance to make things a bit better.”
She snorted. “Oh yeah, so I’m a pity-project to make the roaching Overlord feel better about herself!”
I shrugged, defeated and unpleasantly heartsick about it. “Yeah. Probably. You decide – take it or leave it.” And walked away.
Not that I got very far. I was all set to sweep out of the Custody Suite and walk around The Square to calm down, as Damita’s jabs were right on target. I’m sick of all this mouthwhacking! Seth accusing me of running away from the job of Overlord… Vrox constantly nagging… And now, Damita, slicing at my efforts to help her outta here…
When I heard a sharp incisive voice impatiently replying to Heston’s interrogation as to who he was and what his purpose was. Mr Detective had arrived, all set to start his investigation into Mother’s death.
CHAPTER TEN
Spinning round on my heels, I headed straight back into the fusty room now heady with expensive perfume. “Mr Detective’s here.”
“We know, Your Ladyship,” said Damita, staring at the console.
Everyone else was gazing up at the small wallscreen, now showing a fuzzy image of Mr Detective and his encounter with Helston. I watched as the man now responsible for catching the murderer who cut short my mother’s life. Even in the bleached, mid-morning light, Mr Detective’s face was beet-red. And small wonder, given that he was wearing regulation black robes suited to a chilly Gloriosan winter with only a cheap, newtech sunscreen for protection. Judging from his expression and sharp tone, being broiled wasn’t helping his temper, either.
“Time I was going,” announced Madam Stylist, gathering up her tools with surprising speed. “Is there a back way out of here. I wonder? No point in pushing past that poor overheated man.”
And why is Madam Stylist so keen to avoid Mr Detective?
Ignoring Damita’s pointed stare, Felina replied, “Through here.” She led the way across the room and down the darkened passage between the cells. Her booming voice could easily be heard over the snick of the back door as she opened it. “Here you are. Follow the path around the side of the building. But don’t take too long about it because you just might encounter the odd jasper out here. And thank you muchly for all your efforts.”
A blast of super-heated air headed up the passage after Felina slammed the door shut and returned to the Reception Area just at the same time as Mr Detective and his team arrived, panting and sweaty from the front of the building. His eyes narrowed as Felina wafted back into the room, looking – and smelling – like some Bridgedecker.
He clearly knows who she is, because if he didn’t, he should be bowing a greeting to her by now.
Mr Detective stared at Damita, raising his eyebrows. “You’ve some peculiar ways of treating prisoners around here.”
“Greetings to you, Mr Detective. I hope you and your team had a shady journey,” she replied, pointedly providing the courtesy he’d not bothered with as she stood and inclined her head. “Mistress Keeper would be all sorts of a wet-wit to try and flee with Her Ladyship Overlord Kyrillia Brarian in the building, now, wouldn’t she?”
Nicely done, Damita… “Greetings Mr Detective. I understand you’ll be conducting a MindTrawl. May I suggest that you wait till after the noonblast? You all look a tad warm.”
His eyes widened a fraction, before he swept into a bow, managing to displace the sunscreen that he’d forgotten to flick off before entering the building. “Your Ladyship. An honour to meet you. I only wish it was under happier circumstances.”
I inclined my head, having learnt not to respond to these pointless sorts of comments, as his two colleagues also bobbed and stuttered formal greetings.
“However, I’d rather get on with the procedure,” he continued. “If Mistress Keeper is indeed the murderer, then we’ll be able to immediately turn the Trawl into a MindReam and get all the details out of her. After that, wrapping up the case will merely be a formality.”
While his two technicians, looking as if they’d just staggered out of a steam bath, started to open the trunkbots that had followed them into the Custody Suite, I glanced across at Damita, wondering exactly what details Cupert had forwarded to this Gloriosan lawman.
But she was wearing her shuttered expression, so no clues there.
“Can I at least suggest you take time to change into something cooler and have a drink? Sunstroke and dehydration won’t improve your thinking equipment.”
Mr Detective glanced across at his sweat-sodden, panting subordinates and sighed. “Thank you for your kind offer, Your Ladyship. We’ll meet back here at—”
“The village closes for noonblast, when most people sleep it off – unless you’re a debt-ridden field-slogger. Earliest you should consider moving around is1600 hours, when it’s starting to cool off, given you’re not used to the heat.” Have they even read the notes on the local conditions and how to acclimatise? I’m guessing not – typical Gloriosan arrogance!
“We’d better make it 1600 hours, then.” He didn’t snap, but it was close. And unusual.
While I’m sure I regularly annoyed the Uppies and Bridgedeckers I mingled with, they generally hid their displeasure under layers of small social slights and barbed jokes I couldn’t get because I hadn’t gone to their Uppie schools or their Uppie
parties when I was growing up. Not that I cared.
However I did care about upsetting Mr Detective, given he was key to getting Felina out of that roaching Security Suite. “My repentances, Mr Detective. I’ve been less than civil, when you’ve barely walked through the door after a long, uncomfortable journey. All I can say is that this whole sorry mess is like being in the middle of a bad dream…” It was suddenly difficult to speak past the brick-sized lump in my throat. Swallowing hard, I resumed, “You’ve been quartered in the best accommodation the village has to offer with Mistress Stitcher. Hopefully, you got the notes on local conditions before you left Gloriosa, but if you have any worries or questions, just ask Ajene who is used to looking after visitors. Should you need anything else, I’ll help in any way I can.”
While the two red-faced subordinates visibly cheered up during my speech, Mr Detective’s expression remained wary, his grey eyes never leaving my face.
Have I made an enemy of him? Is he angry? Or just working out whether I was part of a plot to murder Mother? I found I couldn’t tell, which suddenly made me blazingly furious— No. It wasn’t Mr Detective causing me to lose my temper – it was…
Vrox? What’s wrong? You stay still and don’t do anything, d’you hear? Mr Detective is now here and if he can, he’ll find any excuse to fling you into prison again, alongside Felina. Using the mantivore’s fear of being locked up against him was a shoddy trick and only a handful of weeks ago, I wouldn’t have stooped to such a stunt.
“I’m afraid I’ve got to go. Urgent business at the Node. Stay shady people,” I announced, pulling my sunscreen into place as I rushed out of the Security Suite, while Mr Detective’s eyes widened in evident astonishment at my abrupt departure.
Not only has he got me pegged as a short-fused, entitled Uppie, he now probably reckons I’m an oxy-pack short of a space suit. Today just goes on getting more broiled…
Helston nearly cannoned into me as I strode through the door. “Your Ladyship. I was just coming to tell you that the beast is going vile and voresome on us. Snarling fit to burst.”
I should stop him speaking about Vrox like that – not respectful enough. But I was too worried to mouthwhack him, given that I could hear Vrox’s growled curses from across The Square. Besides, he wasn’t wrong. Vile and voresome just about summed up Vrox at present. While all the Cnicans in sight, instead of hurrying away from the mantivore’s fury, were rushing towards the Node to see what was going on.
I really need to get the local Nexus working better to allow me to upload more stimming entertainment so this lot have better things to do with their time… I had to slow down, given that we were now at the height of the noonblast and my guards, despite their oldtech, top quality sunscreens and gel-cooled uniforms were clearly struggling in the heat that beat down on the village. Indeed, I was shaken to find that I, too, was gasping like a gaffed fish. It didn’t help that Vrox’s fury was thrumming through me in a burning wave that shivered my vision and had me grinding my teeth.
I’ll rip the insolent nemmetnub’s head from his slimy shoulders!
Muttering a curse, I broke into a run. Vrox! You do it, and I won’t be able to save you. Never mind about the roaching Codes – they’ll drill you deader than last night’s supper! And this time I wasn’t playing any mind-games because I could sense he was within a heartbeat from attacking. Hoisting my robes clear of my knees, I accelerated into a sprint, outpacing my guards, so that only the spiderbot lurching at my side kept up.
“Here comes Kyrillia— Her Ladyship!” yelled Idaline Ferry, flinging the gate open as I raced through, to cheers and applause from the over-excited crowd now clustered around the fence separating Mai’s plot from The Square.
I’m here, Vrox. You leave his head right where it is, or so help me—
I burst into the Node to see the mantivore looming over Kestor Brarian, neck crest fully extended and undulating in time to the strobing beat of his bioluminescent threat colours pulsing through his scales, his silver eyes slitted in fury.
As for Kestor…
“Nemmeting hells, what are you doing? You trying to get yourself ripped to pieces?” I yelled at the idiot Brarian, who, instead of cowering in a suitably submissive pose, was dancing about in front of Vrox’s infuriated glare, waving his shoe about and threatening to hit the mantivore on the nose with it!
“Greetings to you, Your Ladyship. My repentances for not bowing, but I’m not sure I should turn my back on this beast,” said Kestor.
“You’re right. Don’t make any sudden moves. And Vrox and I would be mightily obliged if you put that shoe down,” I said through gritted teeth, trying to project calm at the furious mantivore.
“But it’s my shoe preventing the mantivore from killing me,” he yelled, still dancing about.
“Why would your shoe stop him?”
“Felina Keeper subdued him by throwing her shoe at him, didn’t she?” Kestor’s voice ended in a squeak as Vrox’s anger nocked up a notch at the Brarian’s wet-witted reasoning.
“That’s nothing to do with the shoe. It’s all about Felina – she’s his Queen. If she decided to throw a fresh-killed nemmet at him, he’d still flinch cos she’s angry. Whereas you…” Are the arrogant article that walked away from the Nodery, nearly letting the tanks die!
“I am the boy you first fell in love with.” Despite the snarling mantivore right in front of him, Kestor actually turned to face me, as he added in a lower voice, “Who you’d be with now, if it wasn’t for my father’s fickle-fingered schemes.”
I stared at him, looking for some hint of humour or flicker to indicate that he was either joking, or spinning some lie. But no, Kestor’s expression was solidly serious. He’d talked himself into believing we’d been romantically involved.
Is that what he’s been telling everyone? I hope not! And how does he square that with the fact that the minute I was gone, he ended up keeping my mother warm at night? “I think you may have misremembered—”
Vrox interrupts with a snarling roar of fury. How dare he! Cub never was wet-witted enough to consider this heap of nemmet-dung! Even that weak creature she’s selected as mate is preferable to this streak of yellow water.
Confused images of Vrox ripping Kestor’s head from his body thumped painfully through my skull.
I licked my lips with a parched tongue. “You need to back off. Right now. Vrox is…” Dribbling ThreatDrool, while filling my head with images of how much he wants to feast on your flesh. Is seriously considering whether going out in such a blaze of glory would be worth it. I stepped in front of Kestor and looked up at the mantivore’s snarling face, oddly calm. “It isn’t. You’d die, likely taking me with you. Meanwhile, they’d all move on with their small lives, while we’d be lumps of meat in Beneth Healer’s morgue. Who’d save the sparklings, then?”
By my side, Helston shouted at the guards.
I was dimly aware they were powering up their weapons… that children were screaming and people were yelling behind us... But I continued staring up into Vrox’s slitted eyes, willing him to calm down, while trying to control my own thudding heartbeat and skittering thoughts. Before I had a sudden inspiration. And the minute you and I are out of the way, Cupert will find a way to compost Felina.
It was like flipping a switch. One moment he was an enraged beast, radiating powerful waves of fury through my skull with the force of a migraine. The next he wasn’t.
I swayed, giddy with the sudden change, before shouting, “Stand down!” Though I still stared at Vrox, trying to work out what just happened.
The tell-tale whine abruptly ceased as my guards switched their weapons back into safe-mode. Just like Vrox’s temper.
Were you really getting ready to rip Kestor to pieces? Or was this just some big act to frighten him and impress the watching crowd with your power? Cos if that’s the case, you can’t continue to play these games. Sooner or later, one of the guards will get too twitchy and shoot you. And once one starts, they won
’t stop till you’re a bloody ruin on the ground.
Vrox shook his great head as his crest slowly furled around his neck in flowing frills, still flickering and bouncing with bioluminescent aftershocks. He sighed, a heavy huff as if the whole fate of the planet weighed across his scaled shoulders.
Which indeed it does... My resentment at his bullying behaviour slid away with the recollection that he was as trapped as I was – more so, in fact. Neither of us asked to be penned up in Gloriosa alongside those drawling Uppies. We both hated it. But at least I was alongside my own species and more or less knew what to expect from them. Whereas Vrox was always the only one of his kind. I knew under all that swagger and scaly aggression was a yawning loneliness after years and years of being locked away in a dark foetid prison—
“Your Ladyship! I owe you my life,” announced Kestor.
Scowling, I turned in time to be confronted with yet another of his showy bows.
Vrox could chew off one of his legs. The one sticking forward while he pushes his behind in the air in his mating display to you.
I giggled aloud at Vrox’s joke – never a good idea. It always made me look like a sunblasted wet-wit.
It was Kestor’s turn to frown. “I wasn’t aware I was being amusing, Your Ladyship. I was attempting to thank you for saving me from a terrible fate.”
“It wasn’t you. It was something that Vrox—” And that’s a sentence that shouldn’t see the light of day, either… I took a breath, trying to unscramble my thoughts and get a grip. “So, moving on, Master Brarian, what is the status of the Nodery this morning?”
