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If, and I stress that word, even a quarter of what I heard that night was to be believed then the Gholem settlement in Belleberg had gotten wiped out. Sad, but expected. The fantastic part somehow involves the army regulars staying, shipping in archaeologists, and other assorted things that differ with each telling, to get at what the Gholem diggers had found.
Not sure how I felt there since that potentially validates their hopes of something having once existed there under the surface. It didn't do them much good, and if true this raised questions on what they had done with the people that tried to go back to resettle. It had to be a case of somebody stretching the truth; maybe they found a vault of gold or precious stones. That has been known to happen before; though generally the 'treasure' is bound in the memories of long dead machines, but there had been impressive finds over the years.
Still, the news that Billy's friends had either been killed or enslaved hurt. Billy was going to be upset, and I didn't know what could be done about any of it. Yes I was, and still am, one of those people that feel responsible for bad things happening due to not being able to stop any of it. Sure I'm just one person, but all it takes is one in a key position to get the ball rolling. Maybe we would go see what's gone on next month; now was a busy time for both of us.
What was the time is it? Six? Felt later than that, much later. Ended the night there with an excuse before I made a beeline for my home. The only thing that had passed for decent there had been the drinks, no matter what Finn had said. I had, and would continue to, attempt to convince Finn that there were better places for him to soak at.
“Billy?" I saw her in, of all things, a dress. She never wore dresses, though this one seemed flattering to me. My breath caught when I saw her wear the thing. "Call a priest. We've got the first sign of the end of the world!" Billy turned and punched me, lightly, in the chest.
After I stopped laughing long enough to regain my breath I shifted to a more serious tone. "I got back from the Judge, and I owe a hundred dollars." She didn't need to speak for me to know how unhappy that made her. That wouldn't be easy money and it would be made worse due to interest over time. "Only five percent interest. They wanted twelve, but the judge would hear none of it."
She smoothed unseen wrinkles from her dress and was in the middle of brushing her hair when she spoke. "Praise Deus for small favors." Bitter and heavy tone, I must have forgotten something. "Well?" She turned to give me a hard look, "You aren’t going to go out in that are you?"
Wait. What day was it? Oh I'll spare this journal the specifics of my horrified train of thought at forgetting.
Some of that must have shown on my face, because she reached over to tousle my hair. "Just get dressed Julies. I'll wait till we get back to beat you senseless." She smiled that slow smile that promised I wouldn't forget the anniversary of her moving in with me again, and that I might like what she would use as a reminder.
No time to dig my best suit out from the trunk I'd left it in. Just hope she liked the double breasted White I
took from my father's things before we left. Brown jacket and pants, brown vest with dark green and orange embroidery over a beige shirt and a solid green tie. Shoes, no couldn't go with black. Brown would work, it was only a few shades off from the suit color but they would have to do. No fedora for this suit, but I had a bowler that matched nicely.
Could have done better, but like I said. The suit I usually wore for formal occasions was buried in a trunk and would have been too wrinkled to just throw on. Billy's approval was in the form of a shoulder squeeze and letting me hold the door for her. We went, just the two of us, to see Lincoln in London; a four act drama about the trials of living in post collapse London in the form of one Sam Lincoln stumbling on a plot to overthrow the restored monarchy. I saw Jenny as well as a few other familiar faces on stage, and overall the production value had been good enough that our formal wear didn't look out of place in the crowd. There were just enough touches of humor that kept the whole thing from being a too-depressing-to-care-about bore; plus they had these little peanut oatmeal brownies that I'd grown quite fond of in the snack selection during intermission.
After we left the theater it was past midnight, and though we both had work the next day we stayed out long enough for me to buy her a suitable gift. I made (ha!) her go home and wait for me to bring it to her, and though I would have liked to see the tailor she had taken her clothes to be altered for a few wearables she would have liked, and that I would've like to see on her, I had to settle for what was open this late. I liked this woodcut I had found of two men armed with swords in mid-swing. It was stark, beautiful, and violent. She would love it.
When I got home and showed it to her I found out I was right and she was thoroughly enchanted by it. There was more that we did to commemorate the occasion, but some things were best left unwritten.
Date: August 27
Mood: Pleased
Work was good, made double our break-even for the day before lunch on account of an elderly couple that wanted to get their Christmas shopping for the grandkids out of the way and a gaggle of kids on a school outing to see how a store operates. Days like this were good because they usually meant I could take most of the afternoon off, and I wanted to get a few things done.
Good, allowed to leave. Checked the dress maker since they had opened, caught up on bills, and for once spent a little quiet time at home. I keep wanting that now, but what if business dries up? Shouldn't long too hard for less work, else I won't get enough to pay the bills. I'd keep that in mind next time I had to work over and come home to an upset lady.
More rumors while I'm out. Some said Belleberg's been turned into a crater, others that pre-fall weapons had been discovered. I still cling to my idea that it was just a vault of gold, or maybe well preserved curiosities, and nothing more. I hoped I was right, but I wanted to bring the subject up at dinner anyway to see what Billy thought.
Dinner
After eating I asked Billy if she had heard the rumors floating around about what happened after we left. She had, and like myself she believed they were too large to be believed at face value. Unlike me, however, she felt that we had to go have a look on the basis that they were too big to not be dismissed out of hand. Sure I had gotten curious, but what I expected to find when we got there was an armed encampment, possibly with people searching through the bits of Old Things found laying around or dug up. Billy believed much the same, but insisted we start planning anyway.
There's also the off chance a few of the Gholem were still alive, and if they could be gotten away from there that would have made the trip worth the effort. Wait. Rescue from a heavily armed group of men that wouldn't hesitate to use lethal force on any trespasser? No I didn't like the thought, but now that the idea that there might have been survivors had entered my head I couldn't just wave it off and go about my business.
We planned for the rest of the evening even as we went about more mundane business that needed tending to. What if they had Gholem acting as night watch? What about waiting till new moon? What did we do if there really were captives? Too many questions and not enough information to go on, but we planned anyway. Through her, my father's maid, and several others I had gotten to see their race as equals that should have been respected and treated as we wish to be treated. Billy, well if by this point I need elaborating on why she would have cared then I doubt any more words will have convinced you. Her reasons were obvious, and I was grateful that the plans she offered up included me in the thick of things instead of being left on the side doing menial work. Then again you use what tools you had on hand instead of wishing for what wasn't there.
Such talk was interrupted by a knock at the door. I hadn't ever paid too much attention to the work needed for women's clothing, but I'd never seen Billy get any of her clothes the day an order was put in, much less when that order was put in that afternoon. I raised an eyebrow at the delivery lady but said nothing. Billy smiled and waved her in, "Just... put i
t over there Gina." Gina, of no relation to my father's servant by the same name, did so then was stopped partway through the door.
"Miss, what about?" She inclined her head towards
me. "Is it safe to talk around him?" Billy nodded. Curiosity overrode anything else I felt about what the situation might have been.
"I know your sister hasn't been heard from." Billy's voice was soft as she eased the girl, slender by human standards, positively waif-like by Gholem, back into our apartment. "Julies and I were going to go on our own but if you can find a few others," her words trailed off. The girl's eyes went wide, the request was a bit out of the blue after all, at least to me it had seemed spur of the moment. "No hear me out." Gina waited and said nothing. "Nobody's going to suspect their seamstress or her workers, and because you deliver for most of the city." She held her hands out as if they were balancing scales. "It would give anything we decide on a better chance of working if we have backup."
"But miss," Gina had an odd slurring accent. Hm, Madam Devarough's School for Obedience, a few of my father's friends used that place, and everyone that I know of that went thorough ended up having that same slur. "If several hundred could not hold them off, what would a handful hope to accomplish?"
Billy patted the girl's arm gently. "You let us worry about the specifics. Just give them the message I'm about to make you memorize." She didn't have to say it, but there was an implied 'tell only those you can trust to keep their mouths shut. Does no good to try being sneaky when half the people you hope to take along tell every Mike, Jon, and Sue they meet. Especially if those ears belong to a leash
holder that could send warning about what we're up to.' At least to me there had been that implied keep quiet to her voice, but Gina might have missed it.
When Billy finally let the girl go I signed for her to stop. I feel bad taking advantage of conditioned behavior, but I didn't think I could get her attention any other way.
"Take this." I pressed a roll of bills into Gina's hands. "And please, our door is always open if you're able to visit, and if not, Billy is good at getting in and out of places without being seen." She dipped her head to me before running off.
"What the hell was that?" Billy's hand stopped just short of my face. I hadn't realized she'd covered the space between where she was sitting and where I was standing till that moment. She was definitely angry, and likely made more-so by the confused look on my face. "Don't look at me like that. You know she's going to take your invitation as a short step below you telling her what you want her to do."
I sighed softly, realizing that anything from my mouth would have been taken just short of an order, "You're right." All the others from that particular school were so cowed that they almost had no will of their own, at least where humans were concerned. "Just, y'know, maybe it'll help her to spend time with other people." Billy still frowned. I could have pointed out that her giving the girl a long list of instructions was even worse than what I had done. I could have pointed out that with how I had treated Billy she would have seen any requests from her as good as having come from me. Of course both things would have only made the argument last longer. So I held my tongue and called it a night.
At some point after Billy had changed, crawled in bed with me and squeezed my arm. "It wasn't right to snap at you." I mumbled something I couldn't recall save only that she seemed reassured.
August 28
Mood: Drained
I had asked Finn if I could take a week off. He asked why, which brought me to a bit of a squirrelly point in our friendship. On the one hand he struck me as a good person, even if he liked his drink and women a little much for my taste. This, however, was too big, and too damning to tell even in part if I couldn't be absolutely sure he would have kept his mouth shut.
I told him only that I had friends back home that were having problems and need a couple extra hands that knew the farm and animals. Reasonable enough, and not too far from the truth. He was skeptical, but agreed. I hoped when I got back he wouldn't have replaced me.
After this was done I made sure rent would be paid for the next month then had gotten the general need to have things for what we had in mind. I couldn't buy everything at once even if the money were available. Well I suppose I could, but I had started to feel paranoid, especially since Billy and I hadn't spoken since I'd left the apartment that morning. What if she had problems with Gina speaking to the wrong person? What if, forget it. Either we hadn't been found out, or we have. Our plans couldn't change either way so quit worrying.
Time. Time, it wasn't dark yet, but it had gotten closer. I let my watch run down. Time to head home with what I picked up and wondered what kind of luck Billy has had.
As it turned out we had two people going with us; a woman by the name of Sara and 'her' gholem Jak. I was tempted to turn them away if she's going to treat Jak like property, but Billy had talked me into letting them come along. Sara knew enough to make things problematic if we didn't keep an eye on her, and even if I didn't like her views she at least saw what happened to the refugees as having crossed too many lines. Of course for her it's something along the lines of how I would have reacted to a herd of horses being killed for no other reason than 'because', so I'd resolved to say as little to her as possible. I didn't trust myself to remain civil otherwise.
Jak; I wasn't sure what to make of him really. On the one hand he generally deferred to what Sara asked of him, and seemed to feel that their relationship and his place in it was proper, but, in his own words, "Everyone should get to choose whether or not they want my kind of life instead of it being forced on 'em." Couldn't say I understand why he liked being treated as he was, but he seemed happy about his lot in life. Even though Sara and I disagreed on the rightness of it, she did appear to treat him well.
I had spent everything we had getting together what we needed. Sara said, when I pressed her about putting her own money in, her parents would start asking questions she wouldn't be able to duck out of. Made sense I suppose, but it didn't mean I appreciate being the person to plan as well as pay for everything.
Complaining never got things done and the night was long; mostly because, at Billy's request, Sara and Jak were staying with us till the four of us leave. It seemed she doesn't trust the woman out of her sight either. Good to know I wasn't the only one.
Date: September 3
Mood: Apprehensive
The four of us woke before sunrise, washed, ate, and, when we reached the stables, checked what we had packed the night before and left with the animals. There wasn't much conversation as we made our way out of town; the situation had been too surreal at that point, in my mind at least, to permit talking. Sara and Jack rode slightly behind me and slightly ahead of Billy. This was done at their suggestion rather than ours. Either they understood that we didn't fully trust them, or, well. Who could say really? Asking at that point would have been tactless.
By mid-day Jak had begun to drop back or dip ahead now and again in what I think was his attempt at finding trouble. While I appreciated the gesture I thought he was being paranoid. That is, I thought he was paranoid till I realized my hand kept edging towards the rifle in my lap. Billy, I'm sure, would have told me I had been silly and had nothing to worry about. Then I saw that she kept alert, her body posture suggesting she was keeping an eye out for anything that might have been out there. The only one of us that hadn't been weary of trouble, it seemed, was Sara.
When we let the horses rest she said nothing to me. There was a tension in the air, one that I wanted badly to dispel, since if we were already wound this tight, then would the metaphorical spring snap under the strain of what we would be facing? Jak seemed to notice, and though I didn't see him and Sara talk, from that point on she at least acted like she was keeping alert. Maybe he thought Billy and I might have been less troubled if we didn't think there was a weak link in the chain of paranoia.
Our routine for the trip was to rise at dawn, pack and try clearing as much of our pre
sence as we could, ride till mid-day to have lunch, then set camp at dusk. Inside of that routine was an increasing ease between the four of us. Sara started telling stories while we road. At first these stories were about the sort of things friends do together, her getting into trouble, her getting other people in trouble, the quirky spots in life.
After she got more comfortable with us these stories turned to grander, or at least lengthier, telling. She spent the entire morning on the third day explaining how her and Jack met. Even with the occasional slip it was clear she tried taking our discomfort at Jak being called property into consideration while she told her story. I nodded approvingly to her, spoke encouragements in the blank spots, and just tried to help her loosen up around me. It was good that she wanted to share with us, as I know Billy had told her some of our stories. Fair is Fair after all. Just hoped Billy didn't tell her about that time at the pond. That one might not have been vulgar, but it's highly personal.
As it turned out Jak was not a product of the now defunct auctioning system. Even the Revivalists considered the practice unsavory, at least they said as much publicly anyway. The politicians made a good show of disgust at the conditions in most show arenas while closing them down, but everyone knows that privet sales still happened (Note: I apologize gentle reader, whoever you are. This is a sore subject with me.)
Jak found Sara locked in a closet surrounded by cages of rats. After Jak found her hammering on the closet door several hours later, too horse to scream, her dislike of cramped spaces then turned into outright phobia.
A month after that her parents had removed her from that school as well as paying enough to 'compensate for lost property' since she had refused to leave without Jak. Ever since that point he had been her personal bodyguard, manservant, companion, friend, and many of her friends and family suspected more, but would never say so outright. "If it seems more than a bit inappropriate for a woman to have a male gholem with her," Her voice had an edge to it when she spoke on the matter, "That is their problem. What goes between us is nobody's business but ours."