London Wild

by V. E. Shearman

  Although his mind refused to allow him to sleep, his body seemed to have other ideas, and though it cooperated as he headed to the bathroom, it did so reluctantly and he stumbled a couple of times before he reached the doorway. Perhaps a quick cold shower would help to wake him up. How could someone feel so tired and yet be totally unable to sleep?

  Once his shower was over, and wearing no more than a towel, he headed into the kitchen via the living room, turning on all the lights as he went. First he poured out a glass of water and with it took a pill to replace his body’s need for whatever chemical would usually be gained by the eating of human meat.

  He considered breakfast, but it was really too early in the morning to be worrying about such things. Maybe he’d get the chance to grab a take-away somewhere before he called round on Judith.

  He started to head back to the bedroom so he could get dressed. On the way, in order to ensure he didn’t forget to take the remainder of the pills with him, he placed them on his dining table in the living room, next to a large envelope containing the money that Judith, Sult, and he had been able to raise for the exchange. There was three quarters of a million in there, perhaps a hundred notes of various denominations, but only about a quarter of the sum they needed to free Amba. Oh, how he missed her.

  A tear came to his eye as he thought of her. They’ll get her free soon, he assured himself as he reached the bedroom and started to dress. Judith and Sult were good friends. He wouldn’t have gotten this far without them, and what was more, they were herd. Jhosatl considered himself blessed to have such friends and at the same time cursed because there was only one way he could think of to make up the deficit between what the three of them had been able to raise and the sum they needed to buy her back. What he had to do felt like a betrayal of his friends’ trust, but Amba was most important.

  ‘I think I can get the rest of the money from my people once I tell them what it’s for,’ Jhosatl had said the previous night when they had counted the money and realized just how short they were of their target. However, he knew well that there would be no chance of them even considering giving him the required sum just to rescue one prisoner. Perhaps if he could buy the freedom of everyone in the Cattery, they might be interested, but not just one female, especially as Jhosatl and Amba’s history with Herbaht society up until her capture hadn’t been all that prolific. No, he wouldn’t get the money that way, but another option was open to him: he could use the three quarters of a million to purchase three million counterfeit notes.

  He hoped the tribe forger was as good as reputation claimed. Currency had so many safeguards that copying it properly could be quite a chore. Most counterfeiters tended to not bother with all the fiddly little details in the hope that those who took the notes wouldn’t notice until it was too late. Herbaht forgers were among the best because their lives might depend on those details, but on the downside, they weren’t always able to get the best equipment.

  He would have to get the notes and hope they would be good enough until Amba was free. Amba was all-important, even if he had to alienate his herd friends to rescue her. The fact that the Elite Guard tended to be more observant than most daunted him a little, but he really had no choice in the matter. Without Amba there was no point continuing.

  Dressed and ready to leave, he had one final look around the house. He didn’t know what the immediate future might hold in store, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t get the chance to return to his home for a while. He might never return here. He wanted to be certain he left nothing important behind. Finally confident that he had everything he intended to take either on his person or already packed in the car the previous night, he grabbed the envelope and pills off the table and ventured out into the night. Yet a niggling little feeling still bothered him that he must have forgotten something, no matter how well he had checked beforehand.

  The regional headquarters was in a large building that was usually used as a conference center for a large, privately owned company. The company, though, was just a front, and like the conference building, its owners were Herbaht. In order to keep up appearances, the building was let out once in a while to other companies and even occasionally to wedding receptions, and on these occasions the leaders would warn their known members that the headquarters itself was effectively closed for the days in question. A large ‘Keep off the grass’ sign was planted by the main entrance gates, a recognized signal to warn anyone who hadn’t gotten the message through official channels not to come in that day. Casual visitors would be the only ones not fully aware of the situation, but a similar dual disposition surrounded many of the other regional headquarters in the city, and it would be unwise of the casual visitor not to be prepared for such happenstance.

  He entered the foyer of the building and gave a friendly smile to the lone uniformed security guard—Herbaht, of course. The guard looked up from the pages of a book he happened to have been reading, and his eyes followed Jhosatl as he walked past. The guard didn’t seem to be armed, though Jhosatl had no doubt that there was a powerful weapon of some description hidden carefully under the desk and in easy reach, should someone other than those that were supposed to be there try to enter.

  Not for the first time, Jhosatl wondered about the guard. Should the building be attacked, the guard was in a very bad position because the main doors into the building were made of clear glass, and that would make the guard quite a plum target.

  The guard made no request to see any kind of pass to allow Jhosatl passage. A quick sniff of his scent on the air was enough and the guard returned to his book, seemingly ignoring everything else that was going on in the world.

  The foyer narrowed a little towards the rear to make room for a pair of elevators, one on either side. Just beyond these were a pair of large, thick, metal-bound wooden doors. They were the kind of doors that would usually have a small glass window cut into the top third, but those windows were missing. They were heavy and awkward to open and probably designed like that on purpose. Beyond the first set of doors was a second set of doors made fully of metal and as thick and awkward to open as the first set.

  The regional headquarters was officially the entire building, but most of the time the visitors preferred to congregate in just one room. It was a fairly large conference room, although it could be divided into two by the drawing of a large thick curtain that could be pulled across the entire width of the room on a rail. There was also a second set of grooves in the floor and the ceiling which could hold a sturdier wall than the curtain, should those using the rooms require something more soundproof.

  Scattered about the room were a large number of chairs. Many had been carefully placed in stacks of ten or more, though there were a few loose ones here and there about the room, and in one of the far corners an overlarge stack was leaning at a very precarious angle against one of the walls. Given a little more time, it would most likely topple fully to the floor.

  In the opposite corner were the only other inhabitants of the room: five males and one female Herbaht, all very heavily armed. They sat around a small table and were playing cards. All of them turned their heads as he entered the room. A couple of them even went so far as to rest their hands on their weapons until his scent reached them and they relaxed again.

  Jhosatl couldn’t believe the selection of armament that was displayed before him: every one of them was carrying a laser rifle and a laser pistol, four of them had knives, and one of those had a small selection of throwing knives. The female was wearing a bandolier of very old grenades (it was probably dangerous just to wear them), and somehow six oriental throwing stars had been woven into the sleeves of her shirt. Two of the men also carried nightsticks. In the corner of the room, just behind the table, were the heavy armaments, a bazooka with one loaded rocket and one spare, and a grenade launcher with several specially designed grenades lying on the ground haphazardly nearby and what looked like a flame thrower from the First World War. At over a thousand years old, it was u
nlikely it would still work.

  It wasn’t just the number of weapons that these six seemed to be wielding amongst themselves, though, but the lack of any other activity in the hall that began to make Jhosatl feel a little bit uncomfortable. Perhaps it was too early in the morning for the place to be really active yet, but that hadn’t mattered in the past. It was usually a hive of activity twenty-four hours a day, even if those performing the various activities changed from one hour to the next. Perhaps he had called when the meeting hall was about to be let out to someone else and he just hadn’t received the message. If that was the case, though, the building should have been totally evacuated and the ‘Keep off the grass’ sign displayed. What were these six doing here? No, the question should be, why were these six the only ones here?

  He watched the activity over at the table for a moment and then approached them slowly. He’d get no answers unless he went to ask the questions.

  At first the six seemed to be ignoring him, engrossed in their game. Then one of the males—the one with the nice set of knives—suddenly shouted ‘Snap!’

  Snap. Jhosatl had thought they’d be playing poker or something like that. Instead they were sitting around playing children’s games.

  ‘Okay,’ said one of the other males, not sounding too happy. ‘I guess I’m out of this one. I suppose I’d better go and see to our visitor while you finish this round.’ He got up and approached Jhosatl. ‘Can we help you?’ he asked, his hand offered for shaking.

  Jhosatl recognized him as Timush. Timush had always been one of the headquarters’ guards. He was a familiar face to Jhosatl, even if he didn’t seem to recognize Jhosatl in return.

  ‘Hi, mate!’ Jhosatl felt his voice trembling nervously a little as he spoke. He took the proffered hand and shook it. ‘I need the services of the forger.’

  Timush shook his head as he answered, ‘Kolinn, our forger, hasn’t been here since the announcement was given out. You might find him at home, but he won’t be here again until this all blows over.’

  ‘Announcement?’ Jhosatl said, shocked, and he may have sounded a little angry when he added, ‘What announcement?’

  ‘What announcement? Where have you been?’ Timush sighed, and his voice took on the quality of someone who had already repeated this several times to others and hadn’t expected to have to again. ‘It happened a few days ago. Word got round that the herd were preparing an all-out attack on the regional headquarters. We don’t know a lot of the details, and to be honest, the whole thing sounds a little far-fetched to me. After all, how would they even know how to find all the regional headquarters? But our illustrious leader has decided to err on the side of caution. Besides, with our people suddenly occupied with seeking revenge for Sou’nd, it’s probably not a good idea to gather in large numbers.’

  Jhosatl felt stunned as Timush spoke. He hadn’t heard any of this; he had been too busy worrying about the fate of his wife to pay attention to what was happening elsewhere in the world. What had happened to Sou’nd? He had a lot of relatives in Sou’nd; were they all right? Once he had secured his wife he would have to investigate. That put it back in perspective for him. He had a lot of relatives in Sou’nd, but his wife was far more important to him. ‘So, so why are you still here, mate?’

  ‘Well, it was agreed that every one of our headquarters that paid any attention to the warning would leave a skeleton team to defend against all possible attacks. Somehow this is supposed to convince the soldiers that they have succeeded in catching us unprepared, while most of us will be taking the opportunity to hit them hard where they aren’t expecting it. Personally, I don’t think the attack is coming. It was several days ago when we received the warning; you would have thought they would have acted by now if they were going to.’

  Jhosatl nodded, but he seemed quite depressed. ‘So, no forger?’

  ‘Well,’ Timush replied, ‘I suppose I could give you the address of one of the backup forgers. You could make a house call. It won’t be Kolinn, our main forger, though. He disappeared about a week before the announcement was made. We haven’t been able to contact him at all since. He may be dead.’

  ‘Well, mate, any forger will do as long as he doesn’t mind being disturbed this early in the morning,’ Jhosatl commented hopefully. Perhaps he should have felt something for Kolinn, but all his fears were with his wife, and he hadn’t really known the forger that well. Besides, if even the news about Sou’nd hadn’t hit him with the force he might normally have expected, then the loss of someone he didn’t really know that well probably shouldn’t bother him at all. There was no doubt that the full implications of everything he had heard would strike him later, once his wife was safe.

  ‘She won’t,’ agreed Timush emphasizing she. ‘Hold on. I’ll write the address down for you.’

  ‘Thank you, mate.’ Things weren’t flowing with exactly the smoothness Jhosatl had hoped, but at least he wasn’t at a dead end, and that is what he had feared when he had first entered that room. Besides, he did have a little bit of extra time to play with thanks to his bout of insomnia. ‘Can you let me have her link number too?’

  ‘You want to call her?’ Timush asked, already writing the address down on the back of a piece of scrap paper.

  Jhosatl didn’t ask him how he happened to know her address and link number from memory; such matters were really none of his business. ‘To be honest, mate, I just think if I’m knocking on her door in the early hours of the morning without warning her that I’m on my way, she’s likely to greet me with laser fire. Assuming, of course, that she doesn’t just try to escape across the rooftops.’

  ‘Good thinking,’ Timush offered. ‘Well, ok, I’ll add the number at the bottom. I don’t know the area code, but if you use a public link in the same area you should get through all right.’

  Jhosatl read the note and pocketed it before leaving the building again. Fortunately the location of this forger wasn’t too far away, which made sense to him since she was a regular here. Indeed, it occurred to him that he and she were virtually neighbors, and he could probably call her on his own link without needing the area code.

  This was fortunate, as the public links were rare outside of shopping centers. True, every street did have its own little emergency box, a beacon of hope where a herd who suspected that a Herbaht might be stalking them could call the authorities for help. But such boxes could not be used to contact anyone other than the authorities.

  Jhosatl climbed back into his car and drove clear of the building, glad to be away. If there was really any possibility at all that the place might suddenly find itself under attack, he didn’t want to hang around.

  He felt a little hesitant about calling the forger. It was still only about three in the morning and would have been far too early to start making phone calls, had the situation not been so urgent. He spoke the number carefully, making sure the link would have no problem understanding him.

  Her voice, when it answered, sounded very tired and unsure. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hello, my name is Jhosatl. I was told you could help me,’ he replied anxiously.

  ‘I don’t see you on my screen,’ she commented tiredly.

  ‘I’m sorry, mate.’ Jhosatl explained, ‘I’m using a small mobile link. It does have a small camera, but it’s dark where I am. You’d only get to see a shadow of me, and holding the link at an angle for you to get a picture would make it awkward for me to drive.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said, though she still sounded tired and maybe a little skeptical. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I need your help in a professional capacity,’ he said calmly. ‘I need your skill as a forger.’

  ‘Can’t it wait until morning? It’s still the middle of the night. Call round in the morning.’ She seemed insistent. ‘I’ll be able to deal with your needs much easier after I’ve had some sleep!’

  ‘Please, mate!’ he pushed. ‘I need your help now. I need the money urgently.’

  ‘Surely a few hours
wouldn’t...’ she started.

  ‘Would make all the difference,’ he told her anxiously. He felt the moment slipping away. If she turned him down, he didn’t know what he would do. Amba had to be rescued today if there was ever going to be a chance of rescuing her at all.

  She sighed loudly; it was clear she wanted him to hear. ‘Oh very well, come on round. Do you need my address?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ he replied. ‘I have your address; I just wanted to make sure you were ready for my arrival before I got there.’

  ‘Good,’ she said irritably. Then with another sigh she added, ‘Come on round, and be quick about it. I might still get an hour or two’s sleep once you leave.’

  ‘Sorry, mate,’ Jhosatl said with feeling, as much as anything because he was feeling a little guilty about having woken her up.

  She closed her connection abruptly, and Jhosatl put his link away. He was already approaching the street on which she lived, so at least he wouldn’t keep her waiting for too long. Nevertheless, the words ‘That could’ve gone better’ passed his lips as he tucked his link into his jacket pocket.

  She lived in a small two-up two-down semi-detached house in the center of suburban London. The curtains were pulled tightly closed, but there was a light on in the downstairs living room, and the occasional flicker of light suggested that she was now viewing the newspaper.

  He knocked on the door, all the time looking up and down the street and generally around the nearby houses for any small nooks or crannies. If anyone saw him, it was better that he looked nervous, as if he might be worried about a possible Herbaht attack. Not that it was hard to look nervous. Calling on someone this early in the morning might be considered by someone in one of the neighboring houses to be an unusual enough occurrence to be reported to the authorities. Though he didn’t intend to stay long, it could cause unwelcome problems for the forger.