London Wild

by V. E. Shearman

  The day drew on slowly, and Lara started to pray to the Goddess. Amba joined her shortly afterwards. It was unusual for a domesticated Herbaht to know much about the Goddess, let alone want to pray to her. Under the circumstances, though, even the most ardent among those who claimed the Goddess didn’t really exist might’ve prayed.

  ‘Praying seems a good idea right now,’ Amba told her, as if sitting down and joining her was the most obvious thing for her to do.

  And even the most ardent? Well, maybe not. Khosi was watching them from a distance and she was smirking. Lara decided then that she really didn’t like Khosi. It was bad enough that she was obviously one of those who didn’t believe in the Goddess and would refuse to pray regardless of their situation, but she also found those who did pray humorous. Khosi might as well have been slapping the Goddess in the face.

  There was something odd about her anyway. The lack of fear alone was weird. And now that Lara though about it, Khosi’s stripes were wrong. It was hard to tell, and Lara thought she might be letting her own feelings get in the way of her judgment, but they just looked wrong. Then there was her top lip. Lara grimaced to herself; she was being silly, and a little hair on Khosi’s top lip didn’t mean she was going to grow a moustache. It wasn’t unusual for Herbaht to have a little hair growing there. But there was something about her. Maybe it was the fact that she rarely said anything, or that when she did she had a very unusual accent, unlike any Lara had heard before.

  Lara continued to pray and tried to forget about the strange Herbaht. She shouldn’t be prejudging people like this anyway. Granddaughter of the Goddess or not, she wouldn’t be allowed to rest in her arms if she wasn’t tolerant herself.

  Lara was still praying when the door opened to reveal the guard standing outside. Despite herself, Lara actually wished they would take Khosi.

  ‘We want eighteen to come and be tested today.’ the squad leader said. There was no giveaway emotion to warn the volunteers what awaited them this time. Now, just a day after he had sounded so nervous, he was already used to it. Now it was just his job. ‘Those who volunteer who we decide are truly domesticated will be returned to their homes and their masters and mistresses by tonight. Those who we decide are really wild and who are using the security of their status as a pet will be returned to this cell for questioning later today.’

  Almost immediately the one called Sunshine got to her feet and ran to the door. She didn’t do so alone. Many others went at the same time, just wanting to get out of this cramped and smelly cell. ‘I want to go home; I’ve been away too long.’

  Starlight almost dived in an attempt to stop her, and she looked totally forlorn as Sunshine sidestepped her outstretched hand and reached the door.

  Starlight looked away, declaring some sort of vow under her breath. She wouldn’t even look at the soldiers at the door or at the others who were volunteering, and she certainly refused to even acknowledge the beckoning waves from her once-companion Sunshine.

  ‘Come on,’ Sunshine was calling eagerly, ‘let’s go home.’

  Starlight put her head in her hands. Fear emanated strongly from her. She was obviously worried that all the fuss Sunshine was making in her direction would attract the soldiers towards her if they didn’t get their eighteen volunteers. Fortunately, she didn’t need to worry.

  After the soldiers had their eighteen volunteers for the day, they were approached by one more. This was the girl who had been sleeping near the bucket and who had gotten drenched during the night. She and her clothes stank of what the bucket had contained.

  ‘Look at me,’ she said to the squad leader. By her voice, she seemed to be trying to make it the soldier’s fault that it had happened. Perhaps she was right, and it wouldn’t have happened if the cell wasn’t so overpopulated. Lara seemed to remember her name was Agatha. What an awful name to give to your pet, she had thought when they had first been introduced. ‘Do you think I might get some new clothing? Clothing that doesn’t stink?’

  The squad leader looked her up and down. Even just being herd, he must have been able to smell her, but he showed no sign of it. Some of the soldiers with him could definitely smell her, though, and they even held their noses at the stench. ‘I think you should come with us,’ he said after a moment, ‘we’ll get you something nicer to wear.’

  ‘Perhaps you’ll let me bring back a few things to clean the cell with,’ she suggested hopefully. ‘The whole place stinks, and you don’t want a bunch of sick cats, do you?’

  ‘We’ll see what we can do for you,’ the squad leader told her amicably.

  This time they had enough volunteers to fill their quota. All five of those who had been left yesterday were still here today, as well as six others—Khosi and five other domesticated: Starlight, Juno, Mary, and two who shared the name Stripy.

  Lara watched the door to the cell close and then turned to Amba. ‘I’ll bet we don’t see Agatha back again either.’

  Amba just nodded and started to pray again.

  Lara saw the sleeping form of the one she had chased off earlier. That was Mary, and she was snoring away, oblivious to what had just passed. And for the first time Lara felt a little happier about her earlier reaction. It might have saved Mary’s life. Three of the others had also gone back to sleep, though all three had been awake when the soldiers had called for volunteers.

  Lara waited until Amba was about to start her second prayer and then she joined her. No more than a minute or two later, they were both joined by Starlight. Starlight didn’t seem to know any of the set prayers the other two were saying, but she closed her eyes and let the words drift over her, and she uttered the word ‘Amen’ at the end of each prayer as if it was the herd god she was praying to. And when they suggested that Starlight lead them in a prayer, she prayed to the Goddess. But she did so in the way a herd might pray to her god. She prayed not for herself or for the others in the cell but for her friend Sunshine, and she prayed for the Goddess’ rightful vengeance upon the person Charles Dorris. Lara was astounded to realize that both Starlight and Sunshine had been the lawful pets of the man known as The Great Cat Killer. Once there might have been a time when Lara would have thought it sacrilege to mix the religions like that, but in the cell it just didn’t seem all that important.

  Khosi watched them from the far corner of the cell. The smirk had returned to her face. She must’ve known the fate of the nineteen who had left. She couldn’t really believe that any of them would’ve been sent home, and yet from her expression it was clear that she didn’t care. There she was in the corner of the cell, smirking at those in prayer, effectively making fun of their beliefs.

  12

  The Lion’s Den

  The road twisted and turned as if a drunken spider had designed it. It was narrow, only just wide enough for two cars to pass if they were very careful. Nor were there any road markings to aid the drivers. The bends loomed up without warning, and the road actually narrowed at each bend, making navigation even more difficult. More than once Myajes was glad of the automatic collision sensors in his car that stopped the vehicle before he hit the trees on the far side of the road because the bend had turned even more sharply than he had expected. There was forest on both sides of the road, of course, forest which tried to intrude on the road, enclosing parts of it in shadow and making it seem narrower still. There were even trees that sat on the very edge of the road and scraped the roofs of passing cars with their overhanging branches.

  ‘It’s unlikely that those they take to the prison camp are dragged through the trees. Look for a more direct road.’ The words of the Patriarch echoed in his head, ‘Look for a small opening heading in the direction you want to go. They want to keep the location of the prison camp a secret, so they won’t advertise a road leading to it. Look for something that could easily be overlooked, something like a gate a farmer might drive cows through.’

  Well, Myajes was looking, but he wasn’t seeing. It was reasonable to assume that the place he wa
s trying to find would be on the same side of the road as the prison camp itself, but all he could see was trees, trees and not even a lay-by he could use to stop and check his bearings. The side opposite the one he wanted started to be bordered by a fence, and the trees on that side came to a sudden stop and were abruptly replaced by a large field in which a large flock of sheep was busy grazing. Just beyond the field was a gently sloping hill that had lots more sheep upon it. There was no sign of any buildings, but the presence of sheep suggested that somewhere there must be a farmhouse and whatever other buildings would be needed to support herds of sheep.

  Not too far beyond the farm, Myajes began to tire. A nagging feeling that he must have passed what he was looking for, perhaps while he had been distracted elsewhere, started to nestle itself in his mind. Maybe it was time to turn around and try again. What he was searching for wasn’t supposed to be obvious and might easily have been overlooked. He continued a short way further, the feeling growing. If he left the forest, then surely he must have gone too far. The side of the road the farm had appeared on now appeared to be open countryside, and although the other side was still lined with trees he felt he must be nearly through the forest. He’d give it another mile, and then when the road widened enough for him to turn around, he would.

  Even when the open countryside returned to forest Myajes felt that he must still be approaching the edge of it and that he should probably turn around the first chance he got. That was when he saw a narrow bridle path on the side of the road he wanted.

  It looked too narrow for his car to pass, let alone one of the Elite Guard’s military vehicles, but it was the best lead yet. True, they might have horses on the farm he had passed, and therefore the bridle path might be exactly what it claimed to be. On the other hand, he had left the farm many miles behind. It would be a long walk even for a horse just to use this bridle path, and it was the first turning of any sort that he had noticed on that side of the road.

  He stopped his car and reversed until he was opposite the bridle path and looked along it. The path led between the trees, appearing to be little more than a dirt track suitable for horses. The trees were just far enough apart that a vehicle could pass between them, if at a bit of a squeeze. A convoy of vehicles would have to go single file, and there was nowhere to go if they should meet something coming the other way. It was only the gate that seemed too narrow for anything to pass, although it was large bushes rather than trees that blocked the way.

  He reversed the car a little more and then inched it slowly towards the opening in the road and then stopped. If he went any further he would collide with the bushes, and though he could drive over the bushes with minimal damage to his car, the Elite Guard couldn’t be doing that constantly or the plants would be in a terrible condition, providing they had not been destroyed.

  He climbed out of the car to see just how much wider he needed the space to be. There was one bush on either side of the entrance to the bridle path, and they would go under his wheels if he tried to drive beyond them.

  He sighed and then realization came to him: the plants weren’t real. ‘They won’t advertise a road leading to it,’ the Patriarch had said. Well if fake plants weren’t as good as an advert, Myajes didn’t know what was. Then again, they had fooled him until he had actually gotten out of the car to take a closer look. Had he not known roughly where the prison camp was, he would probably have driven straight past without a second look at a bridle path too narrow to take a car down.

  Back in the car again, he moved slowly forward, unsure what would happen when he hit the plants. Would they move aside or just collapse under his wheels, only to spring up again once he had passed? Well, whichever it was, the car seemed to pass them with not even a bump, and when the entrance to the bridle path came into view again behind his car, both plants were back where he had originally seen them, looking none the worse.

  ‘I’ll bet that’s set off some sort of an alarm,’ he muttered resignedly to himself. There was no going back now.

  He drove through the narrow path between the trees. It was so narrow that there were moments when he thought he was going to hit one of the trees that seemed to pass with no more than an inch to spare on either side of him. When a mass of trees loomed up suddenly in front of him, he hit the brakes. The bridle path continued to the left in a bend that was so narrow Myajes wasn’t sure his car could fit through. He reversed the car a few feet for a better angle on the turning, and as he turned the wheel, the automatic collision sensors stopped him again and again, forcing him to reverse a little each time. It was no good; to traverse this bend he would need to get closer to the trees than the collision sensors would allow. He had to turn them off. The Elite Guard drivers must have been extremely skilled to navigate this turn safely in their trucks that were usually wider than the car that Myajes was driving. Had the collision sensors still been on, they would have stopped him again; as it was, he scratched the paintwork of his car getting past the turning. And he even felt happy that he had actually suffered so little damage to his vehicle.

  Once beyond the corner, though, the trees no longer seemed so close. The road got comfortably wide, wide enough for two vehicles to pass if they needed to. They were out of sight of the country road now, and this road no longer had to pretend to be a bridle path.

  Before going any further, he pulled the car over to the side of the road. The Elite were good, very good; if there was anything wrong with the disguise he was wearing, then he wouldn’t be leaving the prison camp alive. He wanted to check his uniform in the mirror, check that he had the orders the Patriarch had had forged for him ready to hand and check those over for any obvious mistakes. The slightest slip would be spotted in an instant. He had done this a dozen times since leaving home this morning and never once had he seen anything that might give him away. He knew he was really just trying to delay his arrival at the prison camp, but it didn’t hurt to be sure. The little nametag on his lapel named him as Captain J. Monroe. James, if anyone asked. At least he hadn’t had to pick himself a name.

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Again the Patriarch’s words echoed through his head. ‘We won’t think any worse of you if you decide it’s too dangerous.’

  Well, Myajes could never resist a challenge, especially not one set by the Patriarch himself. Rumor had it that the Patriarch had once entered the prison camp disguised as a Captain just to show that the Elite Guard weren’t so high and mighty after all. But that was just a rumor, and if the Patriarch had tried anything like that while Myajes was his bodyguard, then they would have had words.

  Myajes had wanted to go as a Colonel, so no one would argue with him, but the Patriarch had suggested otherwise, ‘If you’re too high a rank, then the soldiers would be suspicious because they don’t know you. The Elite are a relatively small force and they pretty much all know their highest ranking officers. Go at too low a rank though, and you’ll have no leeway to get what you’re there for. Major might be too high, Captain might be too low. Captain would be safer, though.’

  The rest of the journey to the prison camp seemed to be over far too soon for Myajes’ liking. He had expected a few more obstacles to block the route should anyone happen to stumble past the fake plants, but there was nothing. Anyone who had gotten past those plants must’ve been expected to know where they were going. Even the metal fence he had encountered on his scouting trip yesterday seemed to be absent from this part of the surrounding forest.

  The car park was just to the far side of a small group of trees through which he could have driven, had he felt it was the sort of thing a Captain would do. He didn’t want to rock the boat more than he had to, though. He didn’t want them to realize what had happened until both he and Lara were safely in his car and on their way home.

  He had a small spot of trouble searching the car park for a free space. Actually, there seemed to be plenty of empty spaces, but every one of them was reserved for some officer or another and not one of them for a Capt
ain James Monroe. If Myajes should park in someone’s reserved spot and that officer should call by too, it might cause more hassle than he wanted to face.

  He began to grow despondent. They wouldn’t have guests here to view the inmates, so they wouldn’t need any guest spaces. And if he kept driving around the car park in circles, he was likely to draw unwanted attention.

  Then he saw what he was looking for; it was labeled Reserved For Visiting Officers. The fact that it said reserved was probably what had distracted Myajes from it the first time he had passed by, but now finally he had somewhere to park.

  He parked and climbed out of the car. It was too late to check everything again now. It was too late to check that he looked like a herd officer of the Elite. It was too late to recheck that his orders looked authentic. He had to stride towards the main door of the prison camp and enter as if he had been born to the clothes he wore.

  The main doors to the prison camp were large enough to allow through the biggest vehicle the army had in its possession. They appeared to be made of wood, or a very good wood imitation. There was also a small door for pedestrians cut into the right hand side gate.

  Above the door, following every step of his approach was a pair of very small cameras. Oh, they knew he was there all right, and if he changed his mind about his mission now, they would get very suspicious. He lowered his head a little and repeated a small prayer to the Goddess in his mind, effectively asking her to help him through this.

  The small door within a door opened, and a man dressed in the purple uniform of a Guardsman of the Cattery Elite stepped towards him and saluted him. He was quite a muscular looking man, but he moved as if ready for anything. If Myajes was really hostile in some way, the man would be ready. As well as the standard Cattery uniform of an Elite Guardsman, complete with insignia and laser rifle, there was a small white plug poking out of one of his ears. It might have been some sort of communication device, but there didn’t seem to be any microphone to go with it.