A City Called Smoke: The Territory 2

by Justin Woolley

  “Can we discuss the terms of my pardon then?”

  “Tell me, Archibald,” the High Priestess said. “When you disobeyed the word of God and ventured beyond the fence, did you find the city of Big Smoke?”

  “No, Your Holiness.”

  “Do you believe it exists?”

  “I was promised a pardon from my charges of treason, Your Holiness,” Archibald said. She could see that his courage was wavering, his nervousness returning. “In return for sending the boy and girl toward Pitt.”

  “I’m aware of that,” the High Priestess said. “Perhaps you could indulge me a moment. Do you believe Big Smoke exists?”

  “I don’t know. I hope so.”

  “You hope so,” the High Priestess said, intrigued by that response. “Why? What makes you wish for Big Smoke to be out there?”

  Archibald shrugged. “I don’t know, Your Holiness. I suppose I like the idea that there really were other cities in the badlands once. It gives me hope that maybe one day there will be again.”

  “Mmm.” The High Priestess was noncommittal. “You understand that you broke our highest law when you went searching for your source of hope.”

  “Yes, Your Holiness,” Archibald said. “I understand that. It was a mistake.”

  The High Priestess nodded. “And now you have redeemed yourself by serving the interests of the Church.”

  “I hope so, Your Holiness.”

  “Then, Archibald the Explorer, at least you know you are at peace with God when you go to the Supreme Court for trial.”

  “No,” Archibald said, his voice panicked. “I was told that if I did this for you I would be pardoned.”

  The High Priestess rose, pushing herself up against the arms of her chair. She felt her hip click and grind as she moved. The pain was intense. It felt as though the bones of the joint were scraping against each other, with nothing but sandpaper between them. The joint failed her as she stood, giving way under her weight, and she was forced to lean forward, catching herself with both hands on the desk. Her face twisted. It was an unconscious reaction to the pain, but she managed to turn it into a scowl as she stared across the desk. She hoped she came across as intimidating as she stared at Archibald Richmond.

  “You have ventured into forbidden places, Mr. Richmond,” the High Priestess said. “Sacred law is clear on this matter. You broke it and you will be punished.”

  “No!” Archibald the Explorer cried out in disbelief and despair. He lunged forward, as if deciding that desperately attacking the High Priestess might somehow be a good idea. Clergy-General Provost reached out and grabbed his arm with whip-crack reflexes, stopping Archibald’s forward motion. The man struggled but the clergy-general had the grip of a career soldier and Archibald had spent too long living in the slums. “No!” The explorer was desperate. “I should be pardoned! I was assured of it!”

  “The Church thanks you for all you have done in ensuring the safety of the pure,” the High Priestess said. “I am certain the Ancestors will welcome you. Praise be to the Pure.”

  Archibald did not respond. His face was a mask of fear. His eyes were wide and he stared at her in disbelief. She would not feel pity for this man. He had broken laws that the prophet Steven and First High Priestess Sarah themselves had set in place hundreds of years ago. There would be no place for men willing to do that in the Territory she was building. He was just one of those who would need to be purged.

  “Have him taken to the prison, Provost.”

  The clergy-general nodded. “Certainly, Your Holiness.”

  The clergyman dragged the explorer toward the door. Archibald looked back over his shoulder at the High Priestess as he was pulled away. His eyes were empty. He had given up fighting. Perhaps he hadn’t the courage, she thought, after all. She hoped she could suppress the fight within the rest of the Territory so easily.

  Once they were out of the room and her office door was closed High Priestess Patricia collapsed back into her chair, cursing her failing body. She would pray yet again that God kept her going long enough to finish what she had started. Still, she was pleased to know that on the off chance they made it beyond the fence, she could be assured that Squid Blanchflower and Lynnette Hermannsburg would be dealt with. She would send word to the Black Sisters immediately. When Squid and Lynn met those lost souls in Pitt, they would wish they had been dealt with in Alice.

  CHAPTER 15

  Melbourne lay still. He had been waiting until the tossing and turning in the bunks and hammocks had ceased, and all the breathing he could hear had slowed in rhythm or broken into rumbling snores. The pirates were asleep. There would be a skeleton crew up on the deck, but since most of the crew had taken part in the attack it was smaller than normal and he shouldn’t encounter any of them. He should be able to sneak through the hold unnoticed.

  Sitting up in his hammock, purposely chosen tonight for its proximity to the door, Melbourne slid off and dropped to the ground. He landed with a soft clomp, louder than he’d hoped. He looked around but no one stirred. After their raid on Red Plains the pirates had flown some distance away and dropped anchor into the dusty sand. Captain Pratt had let them celebrate with whiskey and beer, and most had overindulged enough that the Blessed Mary could crash and it might only cause them to roll over in their slumber. Melbourne opened the door and slipped out.

  He made his way through the lower deck, navigating between wooden chests and barrels, wincing and biting down on his lip as he slammed his toe into a raised wooden beam on the floor. He couldn’t risk lighting one of the oil lamps and carrying it with him. He stumbled on through the darkness, keeping as quiet as he could while avoiding what shapes he could see in the darkness of the hold.

  As he came to the next bulkhead, Melbourne slowly reached out for the door’s cold metal handle. He needed to be quiet. He didn’t want to startle Lynn, have her cry out and draw attention to the fact that he was sneaking in. There was something else causing his hesitation too: nervousness. He hadn’t seen Lynn since he’d left Alice with General Connor, and much had happened since then. What would she think of him posing as a pirate? He couldn’t imagine a way of explaining it that wouldn’t provoke her ire. She had always been clear in her view of the world. Diggers were good, those they fought were bad, and he had ostensibly joined the bad side. He would just have to explain that it was the only way he could survive.

  The handle squealed as he turned it. He pushed the door and stepped through. This section of the hold was even darker, but he could make out the shape of the cage a few feet in front of him. In spite of the gloom, he could see that it was covered with the same heavy black cloth the pirates had used to disorientate him when he was first captured. He wondered what they wanted with Lynn. He didn’t think it would be anything good.

  The boards creaked beneath Melbourne’s feet.

  “Who’s there?” he heard Lynn’s voice call from beneath the black cloth. “Let me out, you son of a ghoul!”

  Melbourne was about to reply, to try to calm her down, but then he heard footsteps thumping on the wooden deck above him. They were moving toward the hatch. Melbourne hurried behind a stack of water barrels, dropping into a crouch and peering through a sliver of space. The hatch at the top of the stairs opened, casting diffuse blue moonlight into the hold and taking the edge off the darkness.

  “Shut up down there!” the cracking voice of Yellow called down.

  “Let me out!”

  “I said shut it!”

  “Let me out of here or I’ll rip your face off!” Lynn screamed back. At least she hadn’t lost her feistiness, Melbourne thought.

  “Don’t make me come down there,” Yellow said, closer now. It sounded like he was leaning over the open hatch. “This is your last warning. Keep your mouth shut or I’ll break your fingers.”

  Melbourne waited but Lynn didn’t say anything else. Eventually the hatch slammed down, returning the hold to near total blackness. Melbourne let his eyes readjust to the lack of light
before rising and hesitantly moving toward the cage. He thought he heard a whimpering sob from under the black cloth. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Lynn cry.

  “Lynn,” he said. “Don’t make a noise. It’s me. It’s Melbourne.”

  The soft crying from the cage stopped. “Melbourne?” Lynn’s voice whispered.

  “I’m coming over there.”

  Melbourne made his way slowly toward the cage, watching the hatch to ensure it didn’t fly open and Yellow’s worn and dirty boots didn’t start stomping down the stairs. Melbourne pulled at the black cloth. It slid from the cage, collecting in a pile at his feet. In the dimness he saw the shape of Lynn, curled like a ball, her knees held close to her chest, cowering in the corner of the cage.

  “Are you all right?” Melbourne asked, which seemed a stupid question as soon as it came out. “Did they… Did they hurt you?” That was what worried him. He didn’t know why they had dragged her aboard, a single girl among a crew of lawless and unruly men. The possibilities sickened him.

  She shook her head. “Not really.”

  “Not really?” Melbourne asked, heat rising through his body. “What did they do? Did they…?”

  “No,” Lynn said. “No, nothing like that. They were rough when they threw me in here but nothing else.”

  Melbourne exhaled slowly. “What are you doing out here?” he asked. “Why aren’t you at home with Father?”

  Lynn was quiet for a long moment. “Melbourne,” she eventually said, “Father is dead.”

  “What?”

  The heat that had flowed through Melbourne’s body was replaced by a sudden rush of cold, like a blacksmith plunging a glowing sword into a vat of cool water.

  “He was murdered,” Lynn added.

  “What?!” Melbourne’s voice was too loud, and he quieted it as best as he could, glancing up at the hatch. “What do you mean, he was murdered?”

  Lynn sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “He wouldn’t do what the Administrator wanted,” she said. “He wouldn’t send all the Diggers to war against the ghouls so … the Administrator had him killed.”

  Melbourne’s mind raced. Colonel Hermannsburg was dead, murdered, and on the Administrator’s orders, no less. “I … I’m sorry, Lynnette. I …” He didn’t know what to say. The man had only been his foster father, but still, Melbourne had never known his biological father and Alfred Hermannsburg had done so much for him, not only given him a home when his mother had passed away but given him a new name, a new family, a new life. Emotion surged within him, tumbling around – he could feel his legs going cold and his lip beginning to quiver – but he knew that down here, in the hold of a pirate airship, there was no time to dwell on it. He licked his lips and forced his mind back to the present moment. “Why are you out here, Lynn? What are you doing?”

  “They wanted to send me to the Sisters,” she said. “I wouldn’t go. I posed as a boy and joined the Diggers. I got discharged but stowed away and fought in the Battle of Dust. I was there when the army was wiped out. Did you know that? The Diggers are gone. Now I’ve been exiled but there’s this prophecy and the Administrator is sending me east with Squid to try to find Big Smoke – which probably doesn’t exist – and look for a weapon against the ghouls, and who knows whether that exists either.”

  The words came flowing out of Lynn’s mouth as though they’d been building up and she’d just needed someone to open the valve and let them all pour out. There were a lot of things Melbourne didn’t understand. How could she have fought in the Battle of Dust? What prophecy was she talking about, and who was Squid? Then something occurred to him.

  “You’re going to go beyond the fence?” Melbourne said.

  Lynn nodded.

  “Well, you should know what Captain Pratt told me. He said there’s –”

  He didn’t get a chance to say any more before Lynn spoke again, and this time her tone was cutting.

  “How could you run away?”

  “What?” Melbourne said.

  “I know you ran away when your patrol was attacked by ghouls,” she said. “How could you? You’re supposed to be a Digger. You’re supposed to be a Hermannsburg.”

  He hadn’t run away. He’d done what he needed to do to survive. It was more like a tactical withdrawal. There was no point fighting a losing battle. He was Melbourne Hermannsburg, the Academy’s greatest graduate. He had to survive. But this time, in the face of Lynn’s stony silence, he felt an unfamiliar sensation that was probably guilt. He tried to ignore it. “How did you know about that?” he asked, his voice sharper than he’d intended. “I didn’t run.”

  “The Digger I was apprenticed to told me,” Lynn said. “You did run. General Connor said you did, and I think people are more likely to believe his report than yours.”

  Melbourne suddenly felt a lump in his throat and he swallowed against it. Sweat formed on his top lip. “He survived?”

  “He survived that,” Lynn said. “He’s dead now, of course, just like all the other Diggers.”

  “Not all of them,” Melbourne said. “I’m still here.”

  “What?” Lynn almost spat the words. “You’re not a Digger. Diggers don’t abandon each other.”

  “I did what I had to do to survive,” Melbourne said.

  “You’re a coward.”

  “I am not!” Again Melbourne’s voice was much louder than he’d meant it to be. He looked at the hatch above, listening for footsteps moving toward it.

  “What are you even doing here?” Lynn asked. “What are you doing with a bunch of pirates?”

  Melbourne didn’t answer. A rim of moonlight haloed the hatch as it began to open.

  “What in the two hells are you yelling about?” It was Yellow again. Melbourne couldn’t be caught here.

  “Are you going to let me out of here or what?” Lynn whispered to Melbourne.

  “I can’t,” Melbourne said as he turned and moved away through the darkness. The hatch lifted.

  “Hey!” Lynn said. “You come back here!”

  Melbourne heard Yellow’s footsteps descending the stairs as he opened the door leading back to the rest of the hold. He pulled it nearly closed behind him, leaving a crack so he could eavesdrop. Was Lynn going to tell Yellow what had just happened? Tell him that Melbourne was her brother?

  “Right!” Yellow called as he took the final step. “That’s it. I told you I’d break your fingers if you didn’t quit your blasted hollering.”

  “No,” Lynn said. Her voice was pleading. “No, don’t!”

  There were scuffling sounds followed by more cries of protest from Lynn.

  “Come here,” Yellow said angrily. “Give me your hand. Ow, you little bitch.”

  There was a slap and further sounds of struggle.

  “Got you.”

  “No!” Lynn cried out in terror.

  Through the pounding in his ears Melbourne thought he heard a crack before Lynn’s pained screams filled the hold. Hot tears brimmed in his eyes and he slumped against the wall. He should have saved her. He should have done something in Red Plains. He should have done something now. With her broken-fingered screams filling the space around him Melbourne knew Lynn was right. He was too much of a coward to do anything.

  CHAPTER 16

  Squid sat behind Mr. Stownes on the bio-cycle, his arms wrapped around the large man’s waist. He hung on desperately, burying his head down to keep the red dust that billowed up in a cloud around them from stinging his eyes. Mr. Stownes was leaning forward, his thick hands gripping the handlebars, his right hand twisted down at the wrist to open the throttle to full and send the cycle plowing forward into the night. A sidecar attached to the cycle rattled and bounced along on its single wheel beside them. Nim sat inside the sidecar, gripping the metal handle in front of him with white knuckles. Squid didn’t know what Nim was worried about – he wasn’t the one who could fall off the back of this crazy thing. Next time they rode on a bio-cycle Squid would insist that he ride in the sidecar. It had
been meant for him anyway. That’s how Mr. Stix and Mr. Stownes had planned to take him east. Squid had seen steamcycles when he was in Alice, but those seemed to putter along the winding streets not much faster than walking speed. In comparison these bio-cycles sped over the rough ground at what Squid considered unnatural and horrifying speeds.

  On their left, and a little in front of them, Mr. Stix blasted along on his own bio-cycle. The large tanks attached to the side of his bio-cycle for carrying extra fuel for their long journey rattled as the bike bounced over the uneven ground. Mr. Stix had removed his bowler hat, leaving his black hair to flutter free in the wind. Both Mr. Stix and Mr. Stownes had goggles on, presumably to keep the dust from their eyes as they rode. The goggles had a second pair of lenses, dark tinted, that could flip down against the glare of the sun. Those lenses were in the raised position now that it was night.

  Though he wasn’t comfortable with the situation, Squid knew that it was only because of Mr. Stix and Mr. Stownes’s intervention that he and Nim had made it out of Red Plains alive. Plus, so far they were keeping their promise about saving Lynn, and that was Squid’s first priority. They had tracked the dirigible slowly for the rest of the day, not wanting to ride close enough to draw the crew’s attention. A few hours earlier the dirigible had dropped its anchor, the huge metal thing falling to the ground and digging itself into the sand, pulling the dirigible to a stop and holding it hovering in the air. Now that night had fallen they rode toward the stationary airship.

  Around two hundred yards from the pirate dirigible Mr. Stix lifted his right hand off the handlebars and held it in a raised fist. Both bio-cycles slowed, and Mr. Stix looked over at them as Mr. Stownes pulled up beside him and cut the engine.

  “Best if we approach on foot from here, don’t you agree, Mr. Stownes?”

  Mr. Stownes nodded and all four of them climbed off the bio-cycles and looked toward the shadowy balloon hanging soundlessly in the moonlight. Lynn was on there somewhere. Squid was filled with a sudden sense of dread. He hoped she was all right. He should have stayed with her. He never should have stormed off in anger even if he still felt it had been justified. Whatever trouble they got into they were supposed to get into together. If the pirates had done anything to hurt her he didn’t know what he’d do.