The Real

by Masha du Toit

  “Do you or don’t you?” Crosshatch crossed his arms.

  “The woman I’m thinking of is dead,” said Elke.

  Crosshatch blinked. Then he dragged a chair closer. “I can see this is going to take some time,” he said as he lowered himself into the chair. “Maybe you should start by telling us what you are doing here. In the Muara.”

  “That’s fair.” Elke leaned down to pet Meisje, and to give herself a moment to gather her thoughts. “The fact that I am here might bring danger to you. So it’s best if you know as much as possible.” She looked at Crosshatch. “I hope that you’ll answer my questions too.”

  Crosshatch gave the briefest of nods.

  “So.” Elke sat back. “As I said, I’m a cop in the Babylon Eye. Meisje and me, we’re a team. We work mostly on keeping things civil, make sure everyone gets along. But there are other things. Smuggling is a big part of it. People are always trying to move things through the Eye. From Strange to Real or the other direction. Drugs, biologicals, weapons.”

  Crosshatch nodded, and the children looked fascinated.

  “Two things happened recently. First, I got a message from a woman I’d met about a year ago. Her name is Skyler Moraes. When I knew her last, she tried to harm both me and Meisje and when she failed, she fled from the Eye. She disappeared. Nobody knows where she went.”

  “And then she sent you a message,” said Ndlela.

  “That’s right. The message was a warning that somebody in the Eye was trying to frame me. Harm me. Set me up. Moraes said that she knew who it was. That I should meet her here, in the Muara, at the circus. She said that she’d be by herself.”

  Crosshatch’s scarred forehead wrinkled. “She said she’d be alone.”

  Elke nodded. “Shortly after I got that message I found out that somebody was, in fact, trying to make it look as though I was doing something criminal. There was— Well, it’s complicated. They made it look as if I was receiving coded messages from smugglers. And, as you might know, smuggling in the Babylon Eye is pretty serious stuff. You can get the death penalty.”

  The children listened in silence, leaning forward a little, their eyes fixed on Elke. Crosshatch sat back, arms crossed, not giving anything away.

  “I decided to come out here to see what was going on,” Elke continued. “Hopefully to find Moraes and speak to her. I knew it was probably a trap of some kind but if I want to clear my name, I have to figure out who was behind it.”

  “You don’t think this woman is behind it all. This Moraes,” said Crosshatch.

  “No,” said Elke. “She is clearly involved but I don’t believe that she’s the one responsible.” She shrugged in frustration. “It’s hard to explain. What Moraes did to me was never personal. When I knew her before, she’d been given a job to spy on me. She did her job. When she left, I was sure she would just go as far as she could and find something else that suited her.

  “It doesn’t make sense for her to come here, a year later, just to get back at me. That’s one of the things I don’t understand, why she’s hanging around here. If she’s caught and taken back to the Eye she faces a murder charge, and you know justice in the Eye.”

  Crosshatch nodded slowly. “That I do know, but you might be wrong about this woman.”

  “I might,” agreed Elke.

  “And the other one?” said Isabeau. “You said you knew the other one. The woman you thought was dead.”

  Elke looked at Isabeau consideringly. She was so confident and self-assured that it was easy to forget how young she was. “That goes back a bit,” she said after a pause. “To when I was a teenager. Many years ago.”

  Isabeau nodded eagerly. It struck Elke that she was listening to all of this as if it was a story from a book with villains and heroes, a story that would make sense when all of it was told.

  “What’s her name?” Isabeau said. “Was she an enemy too?”

  “Her name is Missy Cloete,” said Elke. “And no, she was never my enemy. When I was about you sister Noor’s age I joined the Rent. You know about the Rent?”

  Both children nodded.

  “The eco-gang,” said Ndlela. “They hunt poachers, anyone who hurts animals.” He touched his face to the place that corresponded with Elke’s teardrop tattoo. “Is that your gang mark?”

  “Yes. These too.” Elke brushed her fingers over her horns. “We— They believe in building some part of the animal world into their bodies. The Rent uses a lot of stranger-tech. Horn buds. That kind of thing.”

  “I heard they infected a bunch of oil-wells with that bacteria, dried them right up,” said Ndlela.

  “That wasn’t the Rent,” said Elke. “But you were asking about Missy. She was in the cell I joined. She was older than me. Taught me a lot. Tracking. How to survive in the veldt.

  “We were up in the Vaal, looking after the rhinos. Keeping the poachers off. Missy was a crack shot. The two of us were never that friendly but we all looked after one another, the whole gang of us.”

  The scent of the Vaal, dry grass and dust, the cloud castles stacking up in the overarching sky. Their cell had been close, comrades who believed unquestioningly in the cause, dispensing their brutal justice to anyone they deemed enemies of the natural world. The years she’d spent with them had been marked with hunger, danger, and violence, but with companionship too, and pride. The hardship had been unimportant. She’d never since experienced such a sense of belonging and trust.

  “I was with them for about two years.” Elke rubbed her hands over her upper arms. Even after all these years it was not easy to talk about that time. “We were pretty effective. We knew the territory better than anybody, and our leader was the best. He always knew just what was going down, his plans always worked out.

  “One night things went wrong. We got caught in a sting operation. I never found out how. But there was a—”

  Elke caught sight of Isabeau’s rapt face. Maybe it was best not to share all the details. The night sounds of the veldt. The whites of the poacher’s eyes as she laid her gun against his forehead. The confusion of gunshots, lights, screaming, rough hands pulling her down to the ground, handcuffs clipping around her wrists.

  “The cops got us. They locked us up, questioned us. Our leader, Aardvark, he lied for me. Told them that I was a prisoner, a hostage, not one of the renters. It helped that I was only seventeen. That’s how I ended up not going to prison. The judge gave me a suspended sentence. When I left, I saw Missy Cloete—”

  Again she hesitated.

  “It’s okay,” said Isabeau. “You can tell us.”

  “I thought—” Elke blew out a breath. “Somebody told me— They said that she’d killed herself. That she must have had a blade they hadn’t found when they searched her. I saw her lying there. I was sure that she was dead.”

  She saw it again in memory, Missy’s blond hair over her face, her skin stained with blood as she lay huddled on the concrete.

  “But she wasn’t,” said Isabeau firmly. “Because she’s here now.”

  “Hmm.” Crosshatch’s chair squeaked as he leaned back and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “If you ask me, I’d be pretty sure that that lot down at the circus aren’t Rent gangsters.”

  “Why do you say that?” Elke looked at him with interest.

  “Dumping their waste into the sea,” said Crosshatch. “Driving their bikes all over the beach, even when I’ve warned them about the birds. And you lot probably didn’t notice, but yesterday afternoon they were burning rubbish. Black smoke pouring out. Too lazy even to go out and get clean fuel for their fire.” His mouth twisted in disgust. “No Renter would behave like that.”

  “That’s true,” said Elke.

  Suddenly Meisje, who’d been curled up next to Elke’s feet, leaped up and in one fluid motion flung herself at the awning above. Her jaws snapped together and she landed neatly in the sand, a rat dangling from her mouth. She snapped its neck with one deft shake of her head, then trotted over and dro
pped it at Crosshatch’s feet. Then she sat, front paws together, eyes fixed on the awning again. Crosshatch looked at the rat in surprise then at Meisje, but didn’t say anything.

  “So,” said Elke. “I’ve got some questions for you. Ndlela. Can you tell me how to get into the circus without being spotted?”

  “You want to go in there?” Ndlela seemed doubtful.

  “I need to know what’s going on,” said Elke. “Starting with whether or not the woman that Noor saw was Moraes.”

  “I guess we could show you the way,” said Isabeau.

  Elke shook her head. “I’m definitely not going to take you two in there with me. It’s far too dangerous. You’ll have to explain it to me.”

  “You have to wait till the tide’s out,” said Ndlela. “There’s a sort of drainage pipe. I can show you where it starts, it’s not that close to the circus. It goes almost all the way and there’s a gap in the wall with a grid over it. Lift the grid and you’re in.”

  “Inside the building itself?” said Elke.

  “Sort of under it,” said Ndlela. “There’s these spaces under the floors.”

  He glanced at the sky. “Listen. I’ve got to get going if I’m going to pick up anything worth trading today.” He looked at Crosshatch. “Can Isabeau stay here with you while I’m out beach combing? She’s not going to go far with that ankle.”

  Crosshatch inclined his head in assent. “I can make you a better crutch than that one, girl,” he said to Isabeau. “And you can pay for it by grinding some seed for me.”

  Isabeau made a face but seemed resigned to this idea. “Okay,” she said. “I guess.” She struggled to her feet and faced Elke. “You’ll remember to send Meisje out to check if Xun and the rest are okay?”

  “I’m going to send her right now,” said Elke. “And Ndlela, would you like some help with your beach combing? Then you can show me the entrance to that pipe.”

  Ndlela brightened visibly. “Oh, would you? That would be so cool.” He looked at his sister. “You’ve got to stay here, Issy, until I get back. It’s not safe for you to go around by yourself right now.”

  Isabeau shrugged, irritated. “Can’t go far with this ankle anyway.”

  ¤¤¤

  Elke sent Meisje to scout around the area where Xun had last been seen.

  “Stay out of their sight,” she warned. “We don’t want any more excitement. Just check if they are there, if they seem okay to you.”

  Meisje trotted into the underbrush.

  “You’re sure she’ll be fine?” Isabeau frowned in sudden concern. “She got pretty hurt last night.”

  “She heals quickly,” said Elke. “She only needed two stitches in that leg wound. She’s survived worse than that, and she’s sensible.”

  “Okay. Thanks! See you later.” Isabeau went to join Crosshatch, who’d disappeared into his workshop already.

  Elke hoped Ndlela would take the underground route. She wanted a closer look at those peculiar growths as well as the pippet webs. As it turned out, she didn’t need to ask.

  “Better for us to stay out of sight,” said Ndlela. “There’s an entrance to the underground way from here, if Crosshatch doesn’t mind us using it.” For a moment it looked as if Ndlela was thinking of asking Crosshatch for permission but then he seemed to think better of it. “I’m sure he won’t mind. Let’s go.”

  Elke was relieved. She was sure there was more to Crosshatch than met the eye and she didn’t want him to know how interested she was in the traces of strangeside life she’d seen.

  Ndlela led her to the entrance in one of the dunes that encircled the clearing. Elke had to duck to go through the door as the sand was almost halfway up to top of the door frame.

  As they went from one submerged room to the next, Elke looked carefully all around for anything unusual. Some of the houses were simply abandoned ruins, but others were fascinating. A child’s bedroom with a pile of small shoes tumbled out of a half-open cupboard. Lace-like patterns of mould spread on a once white-washed wall. Sand pressed against a cracked window in a ruined kitchen. A teacup with a smear of lipstick on its rim.

  “So.” Ndlela, ahead of her, spoke over his shoulder. “You been living in the Babylon Eye a long time?”

  “Only a bit more than a year,” said Elke.

  “Oh.” The answer was clearly not what he expected. It took a while for the next question to come out.

  “You didn’t maybe meet somebody in Eye, a woman called Thandeka?” They’d reached a once-pretty sitting room that was now engulfed with roots, and Elke was momentarily distracted by the sight.

  “Sorry?”

  “Did you ever meet somebody in the Eye called Thandeka? Thandeka Mahlangu.”

  “No.” Elke parted some of the roots to look at a row of framed photographs, all blurred and smeared with damp. “But there are many people living in the Eye. Do you know what kind of work she does?”

  “I think she might be working in the laundry but I’m not sure. She’s sort of—” Ndlela gestured with his arms, “—plump. She has her hair in braids. She’s a singer. And a midwife, so she might be doing that too.”

  Elke shook her head. “I’m sorry. I haven’t met anyone like that. I’m pretty sure I know all the laundry people. And most of the musicians.”

  Ndlela frowned up at her. “But it’s possible you just haven’t met her? Isn’t the Eye a big place?”

  “Not that big. Do you have a photo of her? That would help.”

  “That’s true.” Ndlela brightened. “We got some pictures at home.”

  “Is she your mother?” asked Elke.

  “Yes.”

  “When did she leave?”

  Ndlela looked down at his feet. “More than a year ago, now. Like, a year and a half, almost.”

  Elke hoped her surprise hadn’t registered in her expression. “More than a year? You guys have been alone that long?”

  Ndlela scuffed at the sand-covered floor with one foot. “Yes. Jayden—her boyfriend—he said he had to go see some people there for a job. In the Eye. She wanted to go too. I think she hoped to find work there.” Ndlela glanced up at Elke, as if checking her reaction. “Only for a weekend. She didn’t want to go at first but Noor said she was old enough to look after us and we all promised to be careful—” He looked at his feet again. “They never came back.”

  Elke waited but Ndlela didn’t say anything more. “I’m sorry. That must have been scary.”

  “It was.” Ndlela swallowed. “When she didn’t come back after a week, we thought something must have gone wrong. Or, Noor and me did. We told Isabeau that Mom must have found a good job in the Eye and was just too busy to let us know.

  “Noor even saved up some money and took a boat out to the Ishtar gate. She tried to find out from the people there if they’d heard anything about Mom or Jayden, but nobody wanted to speak to her. She didn’t have the money or the papers, so she couldn’t go into the Eye.” He hesitated, then said, “Noor is always asking tourists— You know she works with tourists? She guides tours in Uferland, so she sees lots of tourists who’ve also been in the Eye, but nobody she’s asked has ever seen Mom.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Elke again.

  “Well,” Ndlela began pushing his way through the roots, “I’ll show you her photo. Then you’ll know for sure if you’ve seen her.”

  Soon after the room of roots, Elke started seeing the pippet webs. She slowed her pace, inspecting the tiny woven pouches that hung wherever many strands came together. Something alive nested in each one, she was sure. Little eyes glinted through the mesh and occasionally something moved.

  There were other things as well. Flanged fungi, or fungi-like growths that clung to the walls in sheets. Here and there beaded buds hung in clusters.

  “Don’t touch those,” Ndlela warned. “They pop and then you’ve got this dusty stuff all over you. Stings your eyes.”

  “Do you know what these are?” Elke peered at a frond of velvety pods that moved
gently like the underwater tendrils of an anemone.

  “Crosshatch calls them rhinna,” Ndlela poked lightly at a pad off the stuff with one finger. “There’s all different kinds. Some you can eat. Or, some he can eat. Mom made us promise never to try any.”

  “I’d say your mom has the right idea,” said Elke. “Do you know where they’re from?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this in the Real world before.” Elke took out her colltorch and shone it on the pods. They shrank back at the light until all that was left was a honeycombed pattern of dimples. “These things are strangeside, for sure.” She touched the stuff gently and smelled her fingertip. If only Meisje was here. I’ll have to bring her down here to check this out.

  “You mean, they come from the Strange?” Ndlela sounded doubtful.

  “That’s right.” Elke put away the torch. “I’m wondering how they got here. We’re pretty strict about plants and fungi, anything alive, really, moving through the Eye.”

  “Oh.” Ndlela looked nonplussed. “There’s a lot more of it down here in the Cathedral, if you want to see.”

  He took her down a dark corridor that ended in a solid-looking wall of planks.

  “Crosshatch put this up.” Ndlela felt down one side of the barrier. “He doesn’t like us going in here.” He glanced back at Elke. “You won’t tell him, will you?”

  “No, sure,” said Elke. “But why?”

  “He doesn’t even like talking about it.” Ndlela had worked one of the planks loose and pulled it away. “But we’ve been in there and nothing’s ever happened.”

  “Well—maybe—” But before Elke could voice her doubts, Ndlela had slipped through the gap.

  Elke eyed the pippet webs that covered the barrier.

  “Come on!”

  It was a tight squeeze, but Elke managed to fit through the gap. On the far side were stairs that led down into the dark.

  “Torches,” Ndlela said cheerfully, flicking his on.

  At the bottom of the steps was another door and behind this a long, narrow room that must once have been a basement. It wasn’t completely dark. As Elke’s eyes adjusted, she saw that there were windows right up against the ceiling. The light that filtered in from outside had a curious rainbow quality, as if it was shining through stained glass.