London Wild

by V. E. Shearman

  ‘I knew you were up to something and thought I might jump in to save you from yourself.’ Judith seemed quite serious.

  ‘I was going to follow the soldiers back to their billet so I knew where we could enquire about getting Amba back,’ Jhosatl explained. He had lost sight of the four soldiers anyway; there was just too big a crowd and Judith had been too much of a distraction for him to keep his eye on them.

  ‘So you were stalking them in the dark,’ she commented cynically. ‘Why not just call the army barracks? You were going to attack them, weren’t you?’

  He was astonished at the mere idea. ‘Me against four of the Elite Guard?’

  ‘Well,’ she pressed him, ‘weren’t you?’

  ‘I, I was going to wait to see if they split up. See if I could get one alone. I was going to ask him where they had taken her.’

  ‘You know where they’ve taken her. She’s in the Cattery. You know that.’

  ‘But where’s the Cattery?’ he threw back at her. ‘No one knows, mate. At least I don’t, and I very much doubt you do either.’

  Judith almost laughed, ‘No, I don’t, but I’ll bet Sult does; he used to be one of them.’

  ‘Sult?’ Jhosatl commented. ‘I know there are rumors about his past, mate, but nothing definite. How come you seem so sure?’

  ‘Same way I know that you and Amba are more than just master and pet. I keep my eyes and ears open.’

  ‘And you don’t mind?’ he said; he suddenly felt defensive.

  ‘Neither of you has ever shown any sign of wanting to eat either me or any of my friends. So long as that remains the norm, then I’d like to keep you as a friend. It might seem strange, but consider me the type that likes to take advantage of a situation. If I have a wild cat for a friend, well, that has to be worth some sort of protection from other cats. Besides, it’s clear that you were trying to build bridges by including humans in that group you formed. I feel the attempt is worth some sort of success, even if it’s just me.’

  Jhosatl wanted to stop her referring to him as a cat, especially with so many herd still in earshot. The forecourt was filled with people making for their cars, and many of them weren’t too far from where they were chatting. Fortunately no one else seemed to be paying them any attention.

  ‘We’ll have to tell Sult the truth, of course,’ Judith told him in a voice that suggested he’d better not argue. ‘Maybe it’d be better if I went to see him alone. If he doesn’t like the idea then you’ll have time to get clear.’

  ‘And what about Colin?’ Jhosatl asked skeptically. ‘Should we tell Colin too?’

  Judith shook her head. ‘We need Sult on our side if we’re going to stand a chance of getting her back. But I don’t know where Colin will stand. I’ve always thought he wasn’t too happy about having Amba around. I don’t think we should tell Colin a thing unless it becomes absolutely necessary.’

  ‘Let’s go see him then, mate. Sult, I mean,’ Jhosatl said. He was still feeling a little drunk, although he was having a lot less trouble walking straight.

  ‘Not tonight,’ Judith told him. ‘It must be nearly gone midnight now. He won’t be very malleable if we drag him out of bed at this hour.’

  Jhosatl sighed and nodded. Another day could mean the difference between life and death for his wife, but he had to agree she was right. Besides, a night’s sleep might help to sober him.

  Day Three

  Cattery

  Of the twenty prison blocks located in the Cattery, only one was built to house captured wild Herbaht. The other nineteen were originally intended to house the mothers and fathers of the young born there.

  The young were removed from their parents at the age of two and taken to one of the seven distribution hubs scattered about London for sale to the general public.

  Plans to open a second Cattery in the area of Liverpool to cater for the north of the country were recently shelved.

  11

  In The Cell

  Lara Godchild opened her eyes after just a few short hours of sleep. The cell she was in was very dark. The sun wasn’t up yet, though it was galloping at a fast pace towards the horizon from the far side.

  Her back and neck hurt from resting against the hard, reinforced wall of the cell, to the extent that even trying to move her head a little to look up had her muscles screaming in pain.

  This cell had been designed for one occupant and one occupant only, yet despite the lack of light, she knew there were twenty-nine others crammed in here with her.

  Four days ago, when Lara had been pushed into the cell, she had indeed been the only resident. There was a bucket in the corner for her waste and a light covering of straw on the floor to help take the chill off the cold autumn nights. The one window in the cell let in a little light during the day, but there was no artificial light that could be turned on as soon as it got dark. Not that there was anything to do in the cell that required light. She was imprisoned under sentence of death, as were all the inmates at the time of her incarceration, and she had a little more on her mind than the lack of light in her cell.

  Had they known who she was, she might have gotten better accommodation. She was potentially a valuable bargaining chip. Even the herd knew that Lara was the name of the daughter of the Matriarch. She didn’t want them to have that sort of power over her parents and was glad she had had the presence of mind to offer an alias when she was taken. She had given them the name Roberta. It wasn’t good and didn’t sound very Herbaht, but she had been pushed for time. Besides, some Herbaht mothers often gave their children herd names; Lara itself had been a herd name long before it had caught on among her own people.

  Three days ago they had come to fetch her from her cell, and she had thought then that she was on her way out of this world to the next. Instead they just took her to a small room, wired her up to a machine and then pumped her system full of drugs. They had told her the drugs would make her tongue looser and make her want to tell them everything. She didn’t remember much after that until she’d come to again back in her cell, but she had the feeling she had been answering questions about all sorts of things, from her favorite color to where her regional headquarters was. She couldn’t remember what she had told them or even if she’d told them anything. She feared she might have told them everything. One thing she did remember was that they had used a hypodermic needle to administer the drug. This had stuck in her mind because she hadn’t thought they existed outside of museums. They certainly wouldn’t be used on herd patients. Perhaps they had used it because she was Herbaht, or maybe some drugs did need to be delivered this way for maximum effect. It didn’t really matter; she was just glad to be alive.

  Then two days ago she had started getting some cellmates. The soldiers had arrived in the evening just after Lara had been given dinner. Again she had thought they had come to take her away to her execution. Instead a small procession joined Lara in the cell under the watchful eyes of the soldiers at the door. Virtually all of the newcomers stank of the decadence of domestication.

  According to one of these new cellmates, the government had announced some sort of plan to lock up all the domesticated Herbaht and test to make sure they weren’t really wild Herbaht taking advantage of the gullibility of their human owners.

  There may well have been some truth in that claim. One of Lara’s new cellmates went by the name of Amba and had introduced herself as a domesticated Herbaht, not as a cat like most of these ex-pets did. Also, her mannerisms spoke of someone who had been trained to hunt. It was true that she did smell of domestication, but she didn’t move as one born in captivity.

  In all, twelve more Herbaht had been introduced into what was supposed to be a single occupancy cell. What was more, they were domesticated Herbaht being put into a cell in the only wild prison block on the campus. There were twenty blocks on the grounds in all. Nineteen were earmarked for use by the domesticated Herbaht because they had far more disenfranchised pets on their hands than they did captured hunt
ers. From the ex-pets being put in the cell with Lara, it was obvious that virtually every cell in all the other blocks must have been full up to the brim and the soldiers were trying to find whatever room they could wherever they could. At least the herd seemed to have the common decency not to mix the sexes, as all of the newcomers to the cell were female.

  With thirteen in the cell, it had been hard finding enough clear space on the floor to get any sleep. A few had slept with their backs to the walls, as Lara had. But all had managed through some sort of contortion to get at least a little sleep that night. There wasn’t enough straw to go round and the floor was very cold, but they managed somehow.

  Yesterday at about this time, while it was still dark outside, she had watched through the cell window as some sort of truck backed into the Cattery compound. It wasn’t the normal sort of army truck, and indeed she hadn’t seen its like before. It had a large container on its back and some sort of lifting equipment at the very rear for moving very heavy weights. There were no markings on the truck that she could see at all in the little light there was that morning.

  ‘What do you suppose they want that for?’ She spoke out loud, but more to herself than anything.

  ‘Body removal,’ Amba had suggested. Lara had turned to see Amba standing beside her, looking out the window at the newly arrived vehicle, having evidently heard the question.

  Lara blinked and then nodded. It made sense. She didn’t fear death herself; after all, she was the daughter of the Lesser Matriarch, who herself was the daughter of the Goddess. But she wasn’t really sure she wanted to visit her grandmother yet. There were still many things left undone in the mortal realm that still needed her attention…if she could ever get out of this cell.

  Time had passed slowly yesterday after she had seen that truck. Would they let their victims eat first, or would they save the money? She got her answer when a squad of ten men came to take eight of the thirteen in the cell for immediate testing.

  ‘If you pass, you’ll be allowed to go home tonight,’ said the squad leader, a corporal. He actually sounded nervous as he spoke. ‘If you fail, then I’m afraid you’ll be returned to the cell until we can question you properly.’

  Amba, who had stayed near Lara, slid down the wall with her eyes closed, seemingly in a faint.

  Lara tried to act nonchalant. If they were going to bring back those they suspected of being wild, then obviously they didn’t want her, since they already knew she was wild.

  A few of the domesticated did volunteer, wanting to get out of this cell and home to their masters or mistresses. The squad leader chose three more to bring the number up to eight. And they were marched out of the cell with due decorum, as if they were all military prisoners. None of them were ever returned to the cell.

  After their eight cellmates had been removed, the remaining five were given breakfast. It was only simple fare, a bowl of dry cereal each with a glass of water and, to keep up the illusion that they were only there to be tested, one of the pills.

  For the rest of the day the remaining five tried to keep themselves occupied. There was nothing worse than having nothing to do other than wait for the soldiers to come and take you away.

  Amba had opened her eyes as soon as the cell door had shut on the backs of the soldiers. She then commented that if the soldiers ever wanted to take her they would have to carry her. Other than Amba, Lara’s cellmates were clearly domesticated. One by the name of Jewel seemed to be simply shell-shocked by her ordeal and was sitting in a corner, staring into space. A second called Ruby, no doubt on account of the reddish tinge in her eyes, was sitting against another wall crying. The third, Mazaline, looked worried but was trying to put a brave face on it. She refused to be outdone by Amba, who had, after all, introduced herself to them all as domesticated. Amba herself looked worried, but she hid it well. Lara would have been very surprised if Amba was truly just another domesticated.

  Then after lunch yesterday, consisting of a salad (for some reason the soldiers weren’t feeding them meat), they had been introduced to a sixth cellmate. She went by the name of Khosi and was actually looking quite pleased, if a little bit embarrassed, about having been caught. The soldiers who had brought her in had introduced her to the other five as a wild cat. They’d even said that she had been caught nearby, apparently scouting out the Cattery. The bit that didn’t make sense to Lara was when the soldiers claimed that she had gotten off a shuttlecraft just beyond the forest. The Herbaht didn’t have access to shuttles. As the daughter of the Matriarch, she should know. She didn’t comment on their mistake, though; if the herd wanted to waste their manpower chasing wild geese, then who was she to stop them?

  That evening they had been given another meal—again, no meat. And after being fed and watered they’d been given more cellmates—twenty-four of them.

  If it had been cramped in the cell with just thirteen, imagine trying to fit thirty. Just how were thirty going to sleep? In the end they had done it in shifts. Those who could get enough floor space to sleep on did so. The others had to wait until there was an opening, and during the night there had been more than one incident of someone screaming out because someone had either fallen asleep on their feet or tripped over someone already sleeping, either because there was no light to see by, or because of cramps. Cramps seemed to be the biggest culprit. Those who stood in one place for a long time needed to walk or sit, but there wasn’t the room to do either here. They had to put up with it until their legs refused to support them any longer.

  Now it was today. How many would the soldiers want today? How many more would they bring tonight? It was unlikely they would take all twenty-four, and if they did, would she be one of those left behind this time? She might claim to be wild to the soldiers, but since she was sure they were executing those they took, they might take her anyway. She began to dread the footsteps that would warn her of the approaching soldiers.

  As light slowly started to invade the cell, she looked at the mass of bodies. Two in the corner were huddled together, obviously old friends. The expression on the face of one was of anger, whilst the other seemed to be looking around as if the whole thing was just an adventure. Lara tried to remember the names they had given to her; there were so many names to remember! The angry-looking one was Starshine, and the other was called Sunlight. No, she had that wrong. She remembered now: it was Sunshine and Starlight.

  She looked at each of the others in turn, trying to remember what she could of what they had said about themselves when they had introduced themselves to each other, not that they usually said much more than their name. Most of all, she wanted to take her mind off the fact that she needed the bucket. The bucket stank, and so did the corner it was in. It must have been knocked over at least once during the night, and one of the sleepers nearest it had gotten its contents all over her prison rags. From the tiredness in her face, it looked as though she probably hadn’t gotten any more sleep after the incident.

  Lara slowly eased herself to her feet. Her legs were filled with cramps, and her back ached like she wouldn’t believe. She needed to stretch. She felt the need to pace the cell, preferably away from the bucket. With so many prone bodies, she would have to settle for just standing up.

  When she had gotten to her feet, one of the domesticated who had been standing approached her, probably thinking to get some sleep in the spot Lara had just vacated. Lara gave her a chilling look that she instantly regretted. It had been more instinct than intent. The one who had approached had probably spent the night waiting for an opening. Lara’s heart went out to her, but she couldn’t afford to be seen as weak and change her mind after her instincts had spoken.

  Lara wanted there to be no doubt about who was at the top of the pecking order in the cell. This was her cell, and she was at the top. Khosi, the other wild one, had soon been accepted as the second by the others, probably because she seemed to treat everyone else in the cell with equal disdain. Third was Amba. Although Amba was supposedly domesticat
ed, the fact that she acted much as a wild Herbaht did had soon established her place amidst the top three in the cell.

  Of the two others, Lara actually preferred Amba. Khosi showed no signs of even recognizing that there was a pecking order in the cell. She acted as if the domesticated Herbaht were beneath her notice and only Lara was of any interest at all, and even then only as an inferior. Khosi didn’t even seem too worried about what the soldiers might intend for them. Though she said nothing, she seemed almost too confident that she at least was going to walk from this place alive. Amba not only seemed to be a lot less of a threat to Lara’s position, but the fear she had about what was going to happen to them seemed more than healthy, considering their situation. It also helped make Lara more at ease with her own fear.

  The noise that suddenly hit her from outside the cell window prompted her to turn and watch as that same truck she had seen yesterday arrived. It made no attempt to enter the compound stealthily. The window and indeed the cell walls were supposed to be soundproofed, but the noise was so great that many of those who had been sleeping looked up, wanting to see what was going on. A few even got to their feet and came to the window; their places were immediately taken by others who hadn’t had any sleep yet since arriving. Lara felt a little bit of relief that the one she had turned away had now found an empty space to sleep in.

  This time Lara could make out a part of the markings on the truck. There was a little bit of daylight now, whereas yesterday it had still been dark when the truck arrived. Actually, most of the markings had been removed, leaving only a few flakes of paint where they had been and the clean outline in the dust on the side of the truck. It was a waste truck, one of those vehicles called by households when their disintegrators needed repair. It could only be here for the removal of the bodies, as Amba had suggested. To Lara, this was proof that all those taken from the cell were executed.