London Wild

by V. E. Shearman

  She handed one of the cans to Kitty. ‘Spray this all over your body. Don’t miss anything. Concentrate anything that’s left on the areas that are likely to sweat the most, under your arms, between your legs, the base of your tail, under your feet. Any part of your body that you think might create a scent that a dog could pick up on.’

  ‘Can we wear perfume over top of it?’ Kitty asked as she took the canister. She looked at the can herself, but it was blank except for a single word.

  ‘I think it would be okay,’ February replied to her friend, ‘but I’m not going to risk it.’

  ‘Then I won’t either,’ Kitty agreed. She removed the cap from the can and began to liberally spray herself with the contents. She held the can about an inch from her body as she did so, using this spray in much the same way as she had used other sprays in the past.

  February watched her for only a few seconds until she was satisfied that Kitty knew what she was doing, and then she began to cover herself in much the same way. ‘Don’t forget your hair,’ she said a few seconds after she had started.

  ‘Okay,’ Kitty replied, and she gave the wig that she was wearing a thorough going over with the spray before continuing where she had left off.

  Although the cans were of a fair size, they sprayed their contents fast and thick, and it wasn’t long before Kitty was shaking the can in an attempt to get the last little bit out. What she was able to retrieve she concentrated on the four areas that February had mentioned before they started.

  February then handed Kitty the remains of her can and said, ‘There isn’t a lot left in mine, but you might be able to finish off what you’re doing with it.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Kitty as she took the proffered can, placing her now empty one on the side of the dresser. She quickly drained this new can of its contents but seemed more content that she had covered herself with the stuff. ‘I thought the can had more than it did, and I guess I didn’t plan properly for what it did have.’

  ‘I saw that,’ February replied, walking over to her pile of clothing again. ‘You can’t always get these things right on the first try, and I thought there was more myself.’

  Kitty, noticing where February was headed, added, ‘I guess we’d better get dressed then!’

  ‘Unless you can think of anything else we need to do first,’ February commented. She began to rifle through the clothing, trying to decide which item or items to wear and which she would have to leave behind, probably never to see them again.

  ‘I can’t,’ Kitty admitted. She began to dress in the garments that she had decided days ago that she would be wearing for this trip. ‘Don’t forget to collect your stuff from the bathroom before we leave. You know, your toothbrush and soap and things.’

  ‘I haven’t the room,’ February said. This was a harder choice than she had expected, but she was slowly eliminating the things she felt she could live without on Mars. ‘I intend to buy new stuff when we reach our new home.’

  February narrowed her choice down to the three sets of garments she would be wearing for the trip and began to put them on. Although it felt uncomfortably warm wearing three tops, it was a discomfort she was willing to suffer for the sake of transporting more clothing to her new home. The trousers were a bigger problem, though. Although she could get a second set over the first, they felt far too tight, especially around her tail, the presence of which she wasn’t about to risk betraying. She would have to make do with just the one pair after all. There was no doubt they would have shops from which she could buy more clothing on Mars, but it was unlikely they would have anything like the selection that was available here on Earth.

  As February finished dressing, she noticed that Kitty was going over her room carefully, making a final decision on whether or not she could survive their new life on Mars without the few things that she hadn’t been able to cram into one of her suitcases. It was still early morning, but it couldn’t be too long until they would have to leave, so February decided that this was probably Kitty’s way to pass what little time was left until they did. Kitty had already carefully considered everything several times when she was packing the cases in the first place, and February was sure she had packed many things just for the sake of filling up the space, despite February’s own need for more luggage space herself.

  She decided to leave Kitty to it and headed down the stairs to see how the others were doing. Poking her head into the living room, she saw all three of the herd. Maureen and Stanley sat on the couch that February had been using as a bed. They were watching the newspaper, killing time. It was some story about a hurricane that had just skimmed past the island of Cuba, gaining speed as it headed directly towards the coast of Florida. It sounded like a non-story to February; Florida had hurricane shields.

  George was sitting in the holoviewa chair, trying to talk to someone on his link. Whoever it was, from the look on George’s face and the way his fingers seemed to be drumming rhythmically on the arm of the chair, they probably had him on hold.

  She watched for a minute or two. George waved amicably to her, and Maureen glanced over the back of the seat to see whom George was waving to. It probably took Maureen a few seconds to recognize which of the two Herbaht was standing in the doorway before she turned her attention back to the screen.

  February turned away from the doorway. She didn’t really want to hover there, just waiting until they were all ready to leave. Instead she headed towards the front door and stepped out into the front garden. The rain had finally stopped after several days of downpour, leaving the air feeling fresh and invigorating. The street was empty; the cars that had once been parked along the entire length of the street had nearly all gone. There were three that February could see from the garden, and that included George’s, sitting out on the road with a luggage rack already in position on the roof to carry the cases that they wouldn’t be able to get into the car itself. A few nights ago the traffic on the main road a few streets beyond the houses opposite would have been a constant drone, but now all seemed to be quiet. Not even the occasional motor broke the silence.

  February started to feel alone and perhaps a little scared by the solitude. What was it like elsewhere in the city? Thousands, if not millions, had commuted to the city every day for their jobs. Were they still risking the dangers that the city now seemed to pose? Was their job worth their life? What about the golden mile; surely that was still open for business? The country depended on those businesses for its economy. Perhaps the majority of the work had been transferred to other branches for the time being.

  ‘I’ll miss this place.’ George had somehow gotten behind her without her noticing. She realized she had caught his scent but had been so caught up in her own thoughts and so used to his smell that she hadn’t really noticed him until he had spoken.

  ‘Me too,’ she told him, turning. ‘I was brought up in Sou’nd, but I like this city. It’s my home now.’

  ‘I’ve lived most of my adult life here,’ George commented, only half listening.

  February sighed her agreement and looked up and down the street again. ‘It’s very, very quiet. Almost feels as if we’re the last people in the city.’

  ‘There are a lot of your people in the city at the moment,’ George replied. He didn’t seem too worried that someone might overhear the comment; after all, who else was there?

  ‘We shouldn’t wait too much longer before we leave ourselves. I just hope our trip through the streets will be uneventful. My people mainly strike at night, but who knows what they’ll do when they’re fighting a war?’ February told him. ‘We might see better in the dark than you do, but the night vision goggles the army has more than compensate.’

  ‘I think we’re all pretty much ready to go,’ George replied, ‘and I think we’ll be safe from your people so long as we have you with us. It is scary, though, knowing that they might be watching us even now.’

  ‘They would need to be downwind of me to catch my scent. From a distance I loo
k like just another herd, and I don’t think my people will hesitate to….’ Her voice dried up as she realized that the stuff she had put on might also disguise her scent from members of her own race as well as from sniffer dogs. She finished her sentence weakly, ‘shoot on the off chance.’ Her voice recovered quickly. ‘If we’re ready, we really ought to be going. Let’s get out of the city while we still can.’

  ‘We’re ready,’ George told her. ‘We’re just waiting for you and Kitty.’

  ‘I’m ready,’ February replied. ‘I’ll need to get my luggage from Kitty’s room, and that’s it. I think Kitty is ready too; she was just killing time when I left her.’

  Then, as if they had been talking about it the whole time, George suddenly changed the subject. ‘I hope what’s happening in London doesn’t affect the value of my house for too long. The market has virtually collapsed in the city, with everyone leaving and no one wanting to come in. If I sell for what the agent suggested, I wouldn’t even make enough to pay off my mortgage, and the agent won’t guarantee a sale even at the price he quoted. It seems no one is looking to move into the city during the current crisis.’

  ‘Give it a week,’ February consoled, all thought of their possible danger gone. ‘Maybe we’ll know what’s going to happen by then.’

  ‘It’s awful,’ George said; he was getting quite emotional, ‘to know you’re ruined and not be able to do anything about it. I’ll probably have to declare bankruptcy.’

  February didn’t really know what to say. She felt partially responsible because it was her people that had caused the great exodus from the city. No, she realized, it wasn’t her people, but Slim and his attack on Sou’nd. In the end she decided that her best course of action was to give him some room, and to that end she said, ‘I-I’d better go and get my stuff and let Kitty know we’re ready to leave.’ With this she turned and reentered the house, leaving George alone with his thoughts.

  Although there were times February feared that their small car moving alone through the streets of the city must have been an obvious target for any of her people who saw it, there was a big advantage in having road after road to themselves. The once common jostling of vehicles for position, the waiting in constant traffic jams, and the sudden jarring every time the vehicle’s automatic collision sensors cut in were all absent from today’s excursion through the city’s streets.

  They were making very good time, and for the first forty minutes of their journey they didn’t see a single other vehicle that was actually moving. The first car they did see was heading in the same direction as they were, pulling a small trailer behind it. Though February couldn’t see inside the trailer to confirm it, she assumed that they too were carrying all they could out of the battle zone that was London, carrying their lives in a small trailer.

  It was George’s car, and because of that as much as anything he was the one nominated to drive. It had had to be pointed out to him further that Kitty couldn’t drive and that since both Stanley and Maureen had spent most of their last few years on the moon, neither had spent much time driving. That had only left February and himself, and of the two of them, he clearly had the most experience.

  ‘Besides,’ Maureen had insisted, ‘I’m not willing to trust her to take the wheel. She’ll probably take us to her people for dinner or something.’ It had sounded like a silly comment for her to make at the time, but it had been what finally convinced George that he should be in the driving seat.

  The other seating arrangements had been pretty much sorted by Maureen. She wanted to be beside her husband and as far away from February as possible. This meant that February pretty much had to sit next to Stanley opposite Maureen on the back seat while Kitty took the passenger seat next to George. The alternative, where February took the passenger seat, had been kyboshed by Maureen again who feared that having someone like February sitting beside him might somehow put George off his driving.

  Slowly they made their way north, threading their way through the streets, following the vehicle with the trailer that seemed to be heading in pretty much the same direction as they were. Soon more vehicles joined them in their joint desire to escape. Although the city had seemed deserted, there were still plenty of people who had left it this late to leave the city. Some of those they passed or who passed them gave them a friendly little wave, influenced by a feeling of camaraderie. People who might once have been irritated that the road was clogged by so many other vehicles now seemed somewhat reassured that they weren’t alone in making this trip. There was truly a perceived safety in numbers.

  As they joined the main motorway leading north out of the city, their average speed slowed to a little over thirty miles an hour, and within fifteen minutes they were down to a crawl, stopping, waiting, and then moving perhaps the length of a car before having to stop and wait again.

  ‘That’s it, then,’ George commented as he took his hands off the wheel during one of the lulls. ‘I think we’re still a mile away from the checkpoint, but there’s no turning back now. I hope that stuff you said you were going to put on works the way you said.’

  ‘Me too,’ February replied calmly. It was worrying her too. The thing was that she could smell Kitty, and though she might not recognize the smell as being that of a Herbaht, the scent was still clearly that of Kitty. She worried because she knew the sniffer dogs had a better sense of smell than any Herbaht, and she worried because she knew the three tops she was wearing were making her sweat, and that sweat had to carry her scent.

  The cars inched painfully along. The cars filled five lanes of traffic, and many of the cars were pulling a trailer or fitted with a luggage rack in the same way theirs was. There were a lot of people here who were expecting to be away from their homes for a long time. There were also a large number of trucks waiting in the queues—businesses still trying to earn a living despite the situation in the city and the lengthy wait to get out, or vehicles that had been borrowed by employees, and vehicles belonging to freelancers, doing exactly the same as everyone else in this queue.

  As well as the five lanes of traffic, there was a sixth lane that was kept for the army’s use, well-marked as such with warnings that any civilian using it would be prosecuted heavily under certain emergency powers the army had been given in the current crisis. The army wanted to keep a lane clear so they could get to and from the checkpoint easily if and when they needed to.

  An hour passed, then another. They were within about a quarter of a mile of the checkpoint when there, on the side of the road, was a sign of the success of the checkpoint system. In a trailer that was obviously designed for carrying wild animals, positioned just behind one of the many parked army vehicles, was a Herbaht. The figure seemed resigned to his fate and was sitting down at the far end of the box, watching the traffic miserably. It was obvious he had been put there as an example to any others that might be in the queue.

  The traffic was moving so slowly that they had the figure in sight for at least half an hour, and by then they were virtually on top of the checkpoint itself. February had felt the desire to go and help the figure—there were no soldiers in the immediate vicinity—but it passed quickly. The figure wouldn’t last more than a few minutes once released, and she would be lucky to last that long herself. She wondered absently if the Herbaht had really been caught trying to get past the checkpoint, or if they had brought him here from the Cattery to be the unwilling player in the part.

  This is it, February thought to herself as they approached the front of the queue. Five cars in front of them, then four, three, two, and finally just ahead, February could see a man moving around in an army uniform who clearly had a sniffer dog on the end of a leash. Two men flanked him on either side with weapons ready for use in case they found anything. February wanted to close her eyes until they were safely through the checkpoint, but she also wanted to see what was happening.

  The car opened its driver side window. The dog jumped up at the window on its hind legs, but was held back fr
om actually touching it by the soldier. The dog then hit the ground again, and the soldier waved the car through. It was that simple, but it could have dire consequences if the spray didn’t work.

  One car ahead, the driver side window opened. The dog jumped to its hind paws. The dog got down, and the car directly ahead of them was waved through without incident. The whole thing looked well-choreographed, as if the dog and the soldier had been doing it all day, which February had no doubt they had.

  George pulled his car up to the soldier, and February began to quietly panic, trying her best to show no sign and wondering how Kitty remained so calm. She didn’t even seem to realize that their lives might be in danger.

  George opened the window, and February found herself gulping at the fresh air. The soldier seemed to notice her and stared at her for a moment. Perhaps he had guessed what she was, and yet the dog remained silent; the dog couldn’t smell her after all.

  The soldier waved the car through, and February hoped that the soldier had thought it no more than an attack of carsickness.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Stanley asked, concerned.

  ‘Panic attack,’ February replied as she caught her breath. ‘After everything I’ve been through in my life, I’ve never felt so helpless, so unsure of myself. I’ve done things a lot more dangerous than this, but I’ve always had some sort of control. Not this time, though. I was at the mercy of a dog’s bark, and I felt lost.’