‘It’s not cancer, and she’s not dying,’ Florian snapped, incensed. It made him look Rohanna straight in her face. Her expression was curious and sad. She was very pretty, he realized, but with dilated pupils. Exovision displays offered an analysis of visual data: her increased heart rate, skin temperature two degrees above normal, slightly sluggish limb motion.
She’s high, he realized, which didn’t really surprise him.
‘Not cancer? If you say so.’ She almost giggled.
The baby finished her feed. As always, the bladder was empty. Florian started bouncing her gently on his knee, to be rewarded by a burp. That did make Rohanna giggle.
‘Is there anything to eat?’ Florian asked. ‘I’m kind of hungry. Haven’t had much food today.’
‘Sure thing, fella. Uh, where did you leave your Openland?’
‘I came on a boat.’
‘A boat? What, from Albina valley?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sweet crud. She really worked a number on you, didn’t she?’
Rohanna was wiggling her fingers in front of the baby’s face, making chuckling sounds. It annoyed Florian, but he didn’t want to cause a scene. ‘The food?’
‘This way.’
One of the other curtains in the entrance cavern led to a corridor that ran through the centre of the outcrop. More chambers had been hollowed out on either side. Joffler led him into the kitchen. Its fittings had clearly been made by the same artisan who had furnished the living room. A clay oven stood beside the outside opening, surrounded by a little skirt of cold ash, which had damped down to a sludge from the drizzle eddying in.
‘Some fruit somewhere,’ Joffler mumbled as he pulled drawers out. ‘And I know we have bread.’
Florian’s stomach grumbled in protest; he’d been looking forward to a decent meal. ‘Fruit?’ he complained.
Joffler grinned sheepishly, and gave a wide-armed shrug. His kaftan swayed open at the gesture, and he was wearing nothing underneath. Once again, Florian found himself quickly looking the other way. After seven wonderful years alone in Albina valley he wasn’t used to people, let alone ones who were comfortable exhibiting their bodies.
‘Rohanna doesn’t like eating dead animal flesh. She says it contaminates our souls; that its one big reason why the Skylords have never come back.’
‘Right.’
‘I know, fella.’ Joffler lowered his voice and smirked. ‘Who wants to listen to all that Church of the Return bollocks? But I’m not arguing. She just wants to screw all the time. Say’s the body’s blessings are a gift from Giu that shouldn’t be wasted – some crud like that. I’m not complaining. Good job you’re bringing in all those waltans, huh?’
‘You’re using granddad’s delight?’ Florian asked in surprise. Waltan fungus, when refined by a chemist who knew what they were doing, produced a drug that helped older men with their erections. That’s why he didn’t mind setting traps for the fungus. The county sheriffs were really only interested in busting narnik farmers.
‘Like I said: all the time.’ Joffler pulled a loaf of bread from a metal bin. ‘Got some jam around here somewhere, too.’
Florian stopped himself from sighing. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll manage.’ The baby still hadn’t settled properly. Probably needs changing.
‘Sure thing. If you need anything and can’t find it, just give a shout. My home is yours, so make yourself comfy and get those clothes dried out. I’ll see you in the morning, yeah? And don’t worry, I’ll get you some eggs for breakfast. Rohanna doesn’t object to them.’
‘Thanks, Joffler.’
Joffler winked, then threw a slightly troubled glance at the baby before leaving Florian alone.
Back in the main chamber, Florian took off his shirt and trousers and hung them on a chair next to the fire. Teal curled up next to them. ‘I’ll get you something to eat in the morning, promise,’ he told the dog.
He changed the baby – she must have grown another couple of centimetres during the river trip – but that didn’t make her any happier. She was whimpering almost constantly.
‘What’s up?’ he asked gently. She stared up at him with unnerving focus, then her face screwed up and she started to wail. ‘Oh, for crud—’ He reached for yet another bladder of richmilk, but she refused to take it. When her mouth opened wide for another yell, he saw a flash of white. ‘Teeth?’ he asked incredulously. ‘You’re teething?’ Close inspection showed about six teeth had broken through sore red gums. ‘Oh, you poor thing. But I haven’t got anything for that. Or have I?’
He got his u-shadow to link to the medical kit the space machine had given him, and list the contents. A quick check with his new medical files showed one of the salves would help.
The plyplastic top of the medical kit parted and a small bulb poked up. He squeezed out a little blob of the clear salve and rubbed it on her gums. The baby seemed so outraged that his finger was in her mouth the crying actually stopped for a moment. Then she resumed her bawling.
He cuddled her, crooning soothingly for another couple of minutes. The crying slowly subsided and she fell asleep. Florian grinned down contentedly at her. Night two. And actually he was doing all right.
Two hours later he was woken up by her cries. But that was okay, because that was the hungry cry. Feed, change. There were eleven teeth showing now, so a touch more salve.
With only two full bladders left, he went back into the kitchen and scrounged some food to fill the processor’s hopper. An hour later, with the bladders refilled, he dozed off only to be woken by more demands for feeding.
*
‘Doo-da,’ the baby said after Florian finished her dawn feed. He blinked at her in surprise.
‘You talk now?’ As before, he felt he’d had about ten minutes’ sleep in the whole night. When he rubbed some more salve into her gums he counted twenty teeth, and the front ones looked fully developed now.
Overnight? A quick check in the medical files showed that wasn’t normal, not even by Commonwealth standards. But she’d grown another three centimetres since they’d arrived in Letroy – that was undeniable. So if she keeps this up, then in a month she’ll be . . . ‘Oh great Giu!’ That’s what Joey meant. He stared at her with a smile of wonder lifting his lips.
Teal let out a mournful whine.
Florian tore his gaze away from the baby. ‘Yes! I’ll get you something to eat.’
His shirt and trousers had dried, so he put them on. A sniff confirmed they needed a wash after yesterday. So did he.
There were so many things he should be doing. He hadn’t stopped running since he’d taken the baby out of the space machine. What he needed was a couple of days’ peace to plan and prepare.
The white wool sheet over the big opening was easy to pull aside, allowing the warm morning sun into the chamber. He looked out at Letroy in the daylight. All the primeval stone spires were pocked by oval openings, the majority covered with curtains or wooden shutters. He was surprised that most of them lacked any sort of safety rail. Behind them, the cliff was also studded with homes. Wooden walkways hung precariously on ropes, zigzagging up the vertical rock. He saw several of them were broken, swinging gently on their last surviving anchor points, the openings they once led to now dark and cold, the stone hive-houses abandoned.
Food. He needed food for himself and the richmilk processors, and poor old Teal. Clothes, washed or new. Cloth for the baby, to wear and use as nappies. Some cash, maybe. And transport, a quiet way to get to Opole, two hundred and seventy kilometres to the west. No way was he going to attempt that in a boat, rowing against the river Crisp.
Florian exhaled pensively, realizing just how dependent on Joffler he’d become.
Behind him the baby cooed. He turned round and gasped. She wasn’t in the settee’s nest of cushions. ‘Giu! Where—?’
She was on the stone floor beside Teal, little hand gripping the dog’s ear and tugging hard as she smiled.
‘No!’ he rushed forwards and pic
ked her up. ‘How did you get there?’ He put her down again, and watched as she started crawling eagerly back towards Teal.
‘Oh great Giu,’ he moaned in dismay. It had been bad enough when she couldn’t move.
‘Morning.’ Joffler walked in, scratching his hair, which had escaped the band. He wasn’t even wearing the kaftan.
Florian averted his eyes. ‘Morning.’
‘Hey, she’s crawling. Hiya there, Essie.’
The baby cooed again, and changed course towards Joffler. Florian picked her up, and immediately wished he hadn’t. She wriggled about enthusiastically in his precarious hold. ‘Eggs,’ he said. ‘You said we could have eggs for breakfast.’
‘Sure thing, fella. It’s just a bit early—’
‘And Teal needs something to eat as well.’
‘All right, all right. Let me put some clothes on.’
‘Is there somewhere here that sells clothes?’
‘Yeah. Uh . . .’ Joffler looked him up and down. ‘Clothes in Letroy, they’re not so . . . well, like yours, you know?’
‘What do you mean?’
*
‘How do they get the dye like this?’ a perplexed Florian asked. He was holding up a cotton shirt that Gemain had made. Gemain was a friend of Joffler who made funky clothes to sell in his store, which was a narrow cavern in the base of the cliff.
‘You need to blend in,’ Joffler insisted. ‘No offence, fella, but the whole forest-worker-gear thing is going to draw a crud-load of attention here. Nobody wants that.’
Florian had planned on spending as much time as possible in Joffler’s stone house, so he quashed down an argument. He only had a few shillings; it was Joffler who was paying for everything. ‘I can send you the money,’ he promised the dealer. ‘As soon as I get to Opole.’ All the money from the waltan fungi was going into a safe deposit box; fifteen dollars for each one, which had been agreed with Billop in advance. Billop was the contact who sold granddad’s delight in the city. It was Rasschaert who had arranged the deal for him when he announced he’d been accepted for the forest warden service. Rasschaert worked in Aunt Terannia’s club, which was where they’d met, but had a lot of contacts within the local gangs.
Joffler pulled a face and said: ‘Don’t worry about it,’ whenever he brought up the subject of money and buying supplies.
Gemain’s shirt was purple and red, with weird blotchy green and blue spirals all over it. The baby tried to grab it. Florian was holding her under one arm, while he held up the shirt for critical examination. It looked like a rainbow had melted across it while it was spinning round.
‘It’s called tie dye,’ Gemain explained proudly.
‘We’ll take a couple,’ Joffler said quickly. ‘And those trousers, too.’
Florian nearly yelped: not the trousers. They were denim, but not like any dungarees he’d ever worn before. These were black, unnaturally tight across his bottom, and had red suede tassels running down the outside leg seams. Instead of arguing he just gritted his teeth. He’d get back to Joffler’s stone house quicker if he said nothing.
They were on their second foray into Letroy this morning. The first was for food, which had been traumatic enough. Florian had folded up a towel to make a papoose for Essie, who welcomed it as some kind of escapology challenge while they walked among the rock outcrops. He was already looking back fondly to the previous day, when all she did was sleep, feed, and require changing.
As well as the trousers and shirt, Joffler bought a kaftan for Florian, and some fresh underwear. ‘I don’t need boots,’ Florian said firmly as they passed Kani’s shoe shop in the base of the cliff. The shoes and boots in the window were all made from strips of different colours, or sprinkled with small brass stars and rings. Not one of them had a heel less than six centimetres high. ‘Why would anyone want those?’ he asked plaintively. ‘They’re not remotely practical.’
‘They look kinda neat,’ Joffler replied. ‘I’ve got a couple of Kani’s myself. And you don’t wear them to work, fella, you wear them to be you.’
‘To be me?’
‘Yeah. When you go out in the evening to a bar or a party, what else are you going to—’ He stopped and gave Florian a long look. ‘Ah, never mind.’
*
Back at the stone house, Florian had a quick wash in the bathroom (the water wasn’t very warm) and changed into the new clothes. He enjoyed how clean they were, but the style was just awful. He knew he looked ridiculous, like a dancer from a Fireyear carnival.
Joffler and Rohanna were playing with the baby in the living room. She was crawling across the floor between them as they rolled a soft ball to each other. When Florian came in, she immediately scuttled over to him. ‘Doo-da!’
‘Looking good, fella,’ Joffler exclaimed.
Rohanna walked over to him. She was wearing a plain white cotton robe that was almost translucent. A small fat cigarette was cupped in her hand, leaking a bittersweet scent. ‘Nice,’ she murmured. ‘Forest warden’s a very physical job. I bet you’re really fit.’
‘I, er . . .’
‘Was it lonely in the valley? I can make the loneliness go away for you, if you’d like. Joffie won’t be jealous, will you, baby?’
Florian looked round desperately at Joffler, whose smile had become very forced.
‘Love is free and beautiful,’ Rohanna continued. ‘Isn’t that right?’
‘Absolutely,’ Joffler said.
Florian started to back away from her. ‘No! That is, er, I’m very flattered and everything, but no. I have someone. A girl. She’s special. I can’t. I promised.’
Rohanna pouted. ‘A mother and a girl. I dig you’re hot on the mattress. I think I’m jealous, which is so wrong. The Skylords wouldn’t like how that colours my soul.’
Florian instinctively stopped backing away and looked down. The baby was at his ankle looking up. ‘Doo-da!’ she smiled. He picked her up so he could use her as a shield. Tiny fingers closed round his nose – surprisingly tight.
‘Come on, Joffie baby, you’re on,’ Rohanna said, and sauntered out of the living chamber.
Joffler started after her.
‘Joffler?’ Florian asked quietly. ‘What is it she does? I mean, does she have a job or something?’
‘She’s a kinetic performance poet,’ Joffler said, his cheeks flushing slightly.
‘A . . . A what?’
‘Just don’t ask her to do one for you. Trust me, fella. Some of them last for hours.’ And with that he was gone, hurrying after Rohanna.
Florian looked at the baby. Her black hair, which until now had been a wispy fuzz, was starting to thicken. ‘Well,’ he said to her. ‘A kinetic performance poet. How about that? You know what Mother Laura would call it?’
The baby went for his nose again. Florian ducked away, smiling. ‘She would call it: total bollocks. Yes, she would. She would. Yes.’
‘Goo-da,’ went the baby. She opened her mouth and sucked air.
‘Quite right. You’re hungry again, aren’t you? And nothing is more important than that.’
‘Hung-gee.’
‘Yeah. Hungry. Come on, let’s see if there are any bladders left.’
There were still two bladders with richmilk in his backpack. Florian let her have both of them. She could hold them up herself now. He grinned at the sight of her sitting on the kitchen floor in just her makeshift nappy, looking like a miniature alcoholic tipping back a bottle of booze.
He chopped up an apple, and cautiously offered her a thin slice.
‘Hung-gee,’ she said after she chomped it down, and clapped her hands.
‘More?’
‘HUNG-gee!’
‘Uracus. All right. Here we go.’ He started feeding her the rest of the slices.
With the sounds of heated rutting from Joffler’s bedroom echoing through the stone house, Florian opened up both richmilk processors, and filled their conical hoppers, talking all the while so young ears wouldn’t hear the bad noises.
Once all five bladders were full, his u-shadow switched the nozzles to open-discharge and the richmilk started to trickle out into jugs. ‘That should be enough for the rest of the day,’ he decided after the third jug. ‘And you can have fruit now, too. Solids, clever girl.’
She needed changing. Of course.
Florian made himself a simple lunch, then went back into the living chamber. The open oval window gave him nightmares of the baby falling off the ledge. He pulled and shoved at the biggest settee until it was across the opening, acting like a safety barrier.
The infant yawned, so he cuddled her in his lap until she was asleep. The odd dark tumour-thing on the side of her head hadn’t grown like she did. It still looked awful, but not as bad as it had to start with. Not as life-threatening.
‘It has all your memories, Joey said,’ he told the sleeping baby. ‘They’ll download into your brain. So you must have lived before, back in the Commonwealth. How weird is that? I wonder who you are? Do you know how to build a real spaceship? Is that it? Is that why you’re here? Are you going to lead us all back there?’
His secondary routines highlighted starship files in his lacuna and he gave in to the impulse. The first one opened; blueprints and images surged into his exovision, surrounding him with the most glorious construct. Great Giu, a Commonwealth starship!
*
‘Hey, fella, you okay?’
The exovision folded away neatly and Florian felt a profound sense of loss.
Joffler was poised over him, frowning. ‘Are you like, crying?’
‘What?’ Florian wiped the moisture from his eyes. ‘No. I just . . . It’s dust. I got some dust in my eye.’
‘If you say so, fella. Are you smelling that, too?’
Florian sniffed, and looked down at the baby sleeping in his lap. ‘Oh Uracus!’
‘Takes some doing, being a dad, huh?’
‘Yeah’
‘She grows fast, doesn’t she?’
‘I guess. I’ve never had one before.’
‘Sure. But— Ah, to Uracus with it. I’m going to fire up the boiler properly. You can give her a bath.’
‘Thanks, Joffler.’
‘Hey, it’s nothing.’
‘Do you think—’ Florian paused. ‘Do you reckon the Skylords ever will come and take us back into the Void?’
Night Without Stars (Chronicle of the Fallers Book 2) Page 24
