London Wild

by V. E. Shearman

  Another thing that had caught February’s attention was the constant use of wood. Was wood so plentiful on their planet that they could make anything they wanted from it? Perhaps it was something else that looked and felt like wood, but either way there was a lot of it about, even in the small cell. For a start, there was a large wardrobe, not that either she or Kitty had anything to hang in it, but perhaps if they were going to stay for a few days, the Eschiff would supply them with some changes of clothing. The herd, of course, would have them wearing the same thing until their demise as if they were no better than animals. The herd would also have taken the clothing they were wearing and given them some nasty looking and uncomfortable prison rags, which if anything seemed to hold onto the stink of an unwashed body even more. There was also a table, made out of wood with four wooden legs, again synchronous with tables found on Earth. There was a chess set on the table, no doubt something they had picked up from Earth which they had put here to help pass the time. It was interesting that the pieces on both sides of the board also seemed to have been made from some sort of wood. It was a shame that neither she nor Kitty actually knew how to play the game. There were also two wooden chairs that had been positioned on either side of the table so that she and Kitty could sit and face each other, but the chairs weren’t fixed in place and could be moved easily to other positions in the cell and possibly even used as weapons, though the Eschiff must’ve considered that possibility and thought the threat minimal. In fact, everything about the cell suggested that despite their hatred of the Herbaht, the Eschiff respected them.

  Overhead was a large fluorescent light strip buried just beneath the surface of the ceiling so that it was plush with the metal. The light put out a great deal of luminescence, but there was a small switch inside the cell which with a wave of the hand in front of it would turn the light on or off, giving the inmates of the cell effective control over when they were awake and when they should sleep.

  Even when the overhead light was out, though, there was enough light to see clearly by. Light flooded in from the corridor through a small glass window in the thick metal door of the cell. It was a big enough window to look out of and see the corridor beyond their cell, but should they somehow have been able to break the glass, it was far too small a space to try and climb through.

  February still wondered at just how civil the Eschiff had been to her and Kitty; even now as she looked out of the glass window in the door, she could see an Earth type clock hanging on the wall opposite and set to moon time. It was by this that she knew they had been here for about two hours. She wondered for a moment why they hadn’t just put the clock in the cell with them, but no doubt they had their reasons.

  Kitty was on the topmost of the two hammocks they had been given for sleeping on; she was either resting or fretting. February was worried enough herself and didn’t like to pry.

  There were two hammocks, and they were set at a height on the wall so that they wouldn’t get in the way too much if someone wanted to sit underneath them. February remembered how apologetic the Eschiff had seemed when they had brought those in. ‘We’re sorry about the sleeping arrangements,’ one of them had said through one of the translation box things. ‘We only have a limited amount of storage on the ship, and hammocks take up a lot less room than normal sleeping arrangements.’ There had simply been no enmity in the speaker’s voice or face or in the faces of those who had accompanied him. Yet those who had stood behind him had been toting some very nasty looking rifles. It was almost as if they were saying, ‘We want to wipe out your entire race, but there’s no reason why you and I as individuals shouldn’t get along.’

  They had even been kind enough to fix her foot for her. It was in some sort of plaster now and still hurt a little when she put any pressure on it, but it wasn’t anything as bad as she had expected. She remembered vaguely that the guy who had shot her—Slim, Kitty said his name was—had mentioned something about amputation. She was glad he was wrong.

  From what she could see through the glass window, it was clear that the cell they were in was itself in some sort of cell block on board the alien space craft and looked to have been designed primarily for Eschiff inmates, which might go some way to explaining why the place seemed to be so comfortable. Not that she needed to look out of the window to know that. She well remembered the journey from the airlock that connected the ship to the moon base, a journey that took her and Kitty past many interesting rooms which the aliens were now making no attempt to hide. For example, a room where the aliens listened in to virtually everything broadcast on every Earth channel, with computer-like machines monitoring the channels that the Eschiff themselves were unable to cover. There was a short visit to something very similar to an operating theater, where both she and Kitty assumed they were going to be disposed of but all they had actually done was patch up her foot. Then she remembered stepping through the main entrance to the cell block. There were five cells on either side of a fairly narrow corridor, and for some reason they had been thrown into the fourth cell on the left hand side, despite the fact that all the other cells seemed to be empty.

  February looked up at her friend and shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m surprised we’re still alive. That will probably change before we’ve been here too much longer. You’re the clever one; maybe you can tell me what they’re up to.’

  ‘I’m just glad to be alive,’ Kitty replied. Her voice shook quite a bit; she had probably been pondering her future too much, but at least she was coherent. ‘So far they have been more than gentle in their treatment of us. But I can’t believe that our health is their number one concern. They have to have some other reason why they want to keep us alive. It must be something that benefits them enough that they’re willing to risk keeping us alive. I have considered the idea that they might want emissaries so they can deal directly with the leaders of our race through us, but somehow that just doesn’t ring true. There’s also the possibility that we’re hostages, but how would that work? No, there has to be something else; it’s as if we’re missing part of the equation to the problem.’

  February moved away from the door and sat next to the table, resting her elbows on the table and her head on her arms, positioned so that she could still see anything that happened in the corridor through the glass. From her seat she couldn’t actually see the clock, but that didn’t bother her; time would pass regardless.

  With no real means to judge time, she didn’t know how long she had been there when the face appeared at the window with a big smile on it. Indeed, at first she wondered if she was actually dreaming, but then she saw the Eschiff ears flickering back and forth beyond the glass panel as their owner seemed to be trying to force the door open.

  Then suddenly the cell door did open and the Eschiff stepped across the threshold of the cell, a pen weapon in its hand. But it seemed to be far more concerned about what might be behind it and beyond the cell block than it was about the two in the cell.

  February didn’t stir. She found it hard to believe they would repair her foot just to kill her later that day, but she had to remember that for all their familiar traits, they were alien. If she hadn’t been so worried about what the creature intended, she might have found it mildly amusing that she couldn’t tell whether the Eschiff was male or female. Both sexes sported those silly-looking moustaches that looked vaguely like the whiskers of a housecat.

  When the Eschiff spoke, though, it was clear from the voice that she was female. She spoke to them through the same type of translation box that they had seen many of the others wearing. ‘Quick, I don’t have much time before I’ll be missed from my post. I’m here to get you out of here.’

  ‘Who are you?’ February asked stubbornly.

  ‘There’s really no time,’ the Eschiff responded. ‘Please, even if I’m not missed soon, the guard I had to kill to get in here will be. I want to get you clear before then.’

  ‘No,’ said February obstinately. Something didn’t fit right; this had
to be a trap of some sort. ‘First tell me who you are.’

  ‘My name is Hansiobetti,’ she replied with an almost humanlike sigh. ‘You may call me Betti, and I’m here to free you from the cell and get you home.’

  Kitty swung down from the hammock and approached Betti cautiously. ‘Why are you willing to do this? Your race has declared war on ours. Why should we trust you?’

  ‘You’re in a cell on a space craft that is owned by a race that wants to commit genocide. There is very little doubt that you have both already been earmarked for death. Why are you giving me a hard time over this?’

  ‘She has a point,’ February uttered.

  ‘I just want to know what’s in it for her,’ Kitty replied plainly.

  ‘I thought that was obvious,’ Betti explained with another sigh. ‘You are children of Gods and Goddesses. You might even be Goddesses in your own right. It is not right for any Eschiff to question your actions; it is our lot in life to follow and obey. If a God or Goddess wills something, then that is how it should be.’

  ‘Sounds very dictatorial,’ February commented.

  ‘My planet is divided into many different lands, in much the same way that yours is. A thousand years or so ago every city in every country was under the rule of a God or a Goddess. Life under these deities was serene. There were no wars due to religion because we all followed the same religion. If one land had a shortage, the God or Goddess would contact other Gods and Goddesses to gain their help to bridge the shortfall. It was a utopian lifestyle with just one exception.’

  ‘Your brothers and sisters don’t seem to agree with you,’ Kitty commented.

  ‘They aren’t my brothers and sisters,’ Betti hissed. She looked about herself nervously, obviously expecting to be caught at any moment. ‘In every country the people rose up against their holy leaders and threw them down. They stole the knowledge that the Herbaht had and used it for their own ends. The Golden age died and the age of the true dictators started. Armies clashed against armies as the new kingdoms fought to establish themselves. New alliances were forged and broken as easily and as quickly as signing a name on a piece of paper. My world had entered a dark age, but some of us stayed loyal to the original religion. At first we fought to defend the Gods and Goddesses, but were greatly outnumbered, and when the last Goddess fell, our movement moved underground for fear of persecution. They fear us even now, because although there are few of us, if we can prove the Gods and Goddesses still exist, many will join us. They hate you because they fear you and what you might mean.’

  ‘Nice story,’ February replied.

  ‘When our leader heard that a space craft had arrived from another planet and was dealing with Sanspar, well, at first she thought nothing of it. But when word reached her that the home planet of those aboard the craft was harboring real live Herbaht, she knew those Herbaht had to be refugees from the great fall. She knew Sanspar would send a mission with the intent of destroying them. It would be a thing of personal pride to them; the bodies of the Goddesses of two of the cities in Sanspar were supposedly never recovered. Our leader made arrangements to smuggle three of the righteous on board to do what we could to foil their mission. If it’s at all possible, we’re to contact the current leaders of the Herbaht on Earth. Rumor has it they might even be the same missing Goddesses.’

  ‘They are immortal?’ February replied, more than a little surprised. Somehow she strongly doubted the possibility.

  ‘So we are led to believe,’ Betti replied. ‘Now please, we haven’t much time. One of my countrymen has already opened a gateway back to your home planet. We just need to get moving before I’m discovered.’

  ‘Somehow I’m doubtful,’ Kitty said.

  ‘So am I,’ February responded, ‘but I’m not sure we have a lot of choice.’

  ‘Come on, then,’ Betti insisted, and without waiting to make sure they were following, she backed out of the cell and headed towards the main doors out of the cell block and into the rest of the ship.

  ‘Did you bring any weapons?’ February asked as they stepped around the remains of the dead body of the guard Betti had evidently had to kill to get in to see them.

  Kitty hesitated before following the others. Again she seemed to be dwelling too much on those who were already dead.

  ‘Only this thing,’ Betti replied, ‘and it’s pretty useless against anyone with a power-shield.’

  ‘You didn’t bring weapons for us?’ February was a little suspicious.

  ‘They’re programmed for a certain individual. They don’t want them falling into the wrong hands, so they don’t let you have one unless it’s coded to you first,’ Betti replied, ‘and since I’m not a warrior they were very suspicious as to why I wanted it in the first place. There would have been no way I could have gotten hold of a decent weapon.’

  ‘I couldn’t kill anyone anyway,’ Kitty commented.

  They continued along a few more corridors. Most of these were familiar to February and Kitty, as they had been brought this way when they were first locked up. They passed the room in which February’s foot had been fixed, and it was here that she glanced around suddenly behind her.

  ‘I thought I smelt something,’ she said.

  ‘It’s natural,’ Kitty replied, ‘you’re scared we’re going to get caught. I keep seeing shadows.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ February replied.

  A little further on and they were approaching the part of the ship that contained the living quarters when Kitty spoke.

  ‘I think I’ve worked out the missing part of the puzzle,’ she said suddenly.

  ‘Oh?’ replied February, only half listening.

  ‘We’re bait!’ Kitty told her.

  ‘Bait?’ February repeated.

  Betti gave Kitty a worried look. ‘Bait for me, you mean?’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ Kitty responded. ‘It’s the only reason I can think of why they wouldn’t have killed us the instant we were brought in. They knew they had some of your religion on board and wanted to flush you out.’

  February glanced quickly behind her again. ‘That would explain the scents that seem to be following us. The ones you put down to paranoia earlier.’

  Kitty glanced back the way February was looking.

  ‘What can we do?’ Betti actually sounded calm, despite the situation, although that might’ve been a side effect of the translation box she was using.

  ‘There’s not much we can do,’ Kitty said, her voice almost a whisper. She didn’t want anyone else to overhear. ‘You’re already compromised, and I expect they’ll find your friend easily with a quick search. You’ll have to come through the gate with us.’

  They continued, a little subdued, to the room in question, and Betti opened the door.

  ‘Where’s your friend?’ February asked as they entered a room that was clearly empty. There was a frame against one of the walls, and it was clearly showing a different room, presumably somewhere on Earth.

  ‘My friend is a warrior,’ Betti confided. ‘Warriors are allowed to go down to the planet, and someone had to go and set up the receiving gate. He’ll be on Earth waiting for you.’

  February looked again at the room beyond the gate. It looked as empty as this room had been before they had entered it.

  Betti turned her translator off for a moment and then shouted something at the frame. It sounded like she was calling to her friend.

  There was no reply.

  ‘Ok, go through,’ Betti commented; she sounded more than a little urgent at this point.

  The merest moment later, the door exploded into several fragments of molten metal. Kitty and February were thrown to the floor.

  ‘Go,’ shouted Betti, ‘I’ll hold them off.’ Then as an afterthought she added, ‘If you see the Goddesses, tell them some of us are still loyal!’ She aimed her pen weapon at the opening where the door had been.

  February didn’t wait for a further invitation; she scrambled to her feet and ran to t
he frame, not even looking to see if Kitty was with her.

  She clambered into the room beyond and looked round to take her bearings quickly. She appeared to be in a living room of a house. Though the house could be anywhere, she assumed it was somewhere in London. The room was devoid of any furniture other than the frame itself that was still attached to the wall. Nor was there anyone else in the room with her.

  Then Kitty entered the room right behind her, glancing nervously over her shoulder as she all but tripped over bottom of the frame. She turned almost immediately and shouted, ‘Come on, Betti!’

  Hansiobetti backed slowly away from the door of the room, her pen pointed directly at it. Slowly she backed out of the frame into the room behind them. Then she quickly hit one of the buttons at the top of the frame. The image of the room on the ship went a little fuzzy and then opaque before vanishing altogether.

  ‘We don’t have long,’ Betti commented. ‘They have ways to detect where the receiving gate is.’

  ‘We should search the house,’ February commented. ‘Kitty and I need to disguise ourselves before we risk trying to mingle with herd.’ She looked Betti up and down and said, ‘I have no idea how we’re going to disguise you.’

  ‘Wasn’t there supposed to be another here?’ Kitty asked.

  ‘Yes, there was,’ Betti replied; again she turned off her translator and called out.

  Again there was no reply, but shortly afterwards there were footsteps coming down the stairs and then another Eschiff entered the room. He spoke without the aid of a translator. ‘The place is clear; I was just checking out the bedroom whilst waiting for you.’ He yawned.

  ‘I see,’ Betti replied, a smirk on her face. Then to February and Kitty she said, ‘This is my husband, Hanshuffont. I guess it’s my fault he got involved in the movement, but he’s been one of our most capable operatives.’