Natsumi turned to where two eight-year-old boys were standing, both wearing white tabards marked with a blue planet over their ordinary clothes.
“This box and that one,” she gestured at another stasis box on the floor, “are for Queens Island.”
“Queens Island,” the boys chanted in unison, and grabbed a box each.
Natsumi pointed a finger at the taller, red-haired boy. “No running, Rufus! I don’t want you dropping that box.”
“I won’t drop it,” said Rufus, in a wounded voice.
Donnell and I turned to watch as the two boys lugged the boxes across the room. “Are you still having problems using Rufus as a Resistance messenger boy, Natsumi?” asked Donnell.
“Rufus means well, but he gets over-excited, and doesn’t listen to Theo when he tries to make him follow the rules. I replace Rufus with Johann whenever I can.”
“I thought Johann was only six,” said Donnell. “Isn’t that a little young for a messenger boy?”
Natsumi shrugged. “Johann may be young, but he’s far more reliable than Rufus. Johann isn’t big enough to carry these boxes though. It would help if we could use some of the older boys to carry messages.”
“We can’t change the alliance rule about messenger boys being no more than eight years old,” said Donnell. “They have to be that young to make absolutely sure the other divisions can’t mistake them for dangerous intruders on their territory.”
The two boys reached the line that marked Queens Island territory and dumped their boxes on the ground. “Resistance messengers about to enter Queens Island!” yelled Rufus, in a self-important voice.
“I agree we need to keep the age limit for messengers at eight years old,” I said cautiously, “but is there any reason we couldn’t use girls as well as boys?”
Donnell gave me a startled look. “I’ve had so many other things to worry about that I never considered using girls to carry messages. Now we’ve got a female deputy alliance leader, and a female division leader, I don’t think anyone would argue against having messenger girls. If we ever get a day when there isn’t a major crisis, remind me to raise the suggestion with the division leaders.”
“Resistance messengers about to enter Queens Island!” yelled Rufus again.
Natsumi shook her head. “I’ve told Rufus a dozen times that he has to wait a full minute before giving the second and third warnings.”
“Rufus’s minutes are obviously shorter than other people’s minutes,” said Donnell lightly. “That won’t matter tonight though, because every division will have guards on full alert until the morning. I can see men peeping through the curtains in the London and Brooklyn areas right now, and the Queens Island guards are just delaying responding to the messenger boy call so they won’t appear too anxious.”
At that moment, two men came through the Queens Island curtain. They gave cursory nods to the boys, before picking up the stasis boxes and taking them back into the Queens Island wing. I saw a comical look of disappointment on Rufus’s face. Messenger boys were always hoping to use their privilege of entering the corner of Reception that was the territory of another division, or even going through the curtain into their wing to blow a whistle and attract attention.
Donnell turned back to face Natsumi. “What’s the level of our food reserves?”
The speed of her response showed she’d been expecting him to ask that question. “We’ve still been steadily gaining ground despite the increased ration size. The amount of food currently held in stasis boxes is at 73 per cent of the standard target level. We’ve also got about a dozen falling stars soaking in barrels, as well as all the ones that were brought in today.”
“And if all those falling stars get soaked, skinned, chopped, and boiled, what will our food levels be?” asked Donnell.
Natsumi got out two more plates and started measuring out the food rations for Donnell and me. “If we’re careful to get every scrap of usable meat from the falling stars, then we should reach 84 per cent.”
“Not totally ideal for facing a possible siege,” said Donnell, “but better than I’d expected.”
“You can thank the falling stars for attacking us in such large numbers,” said Natsumi.
I coughed. “If Cage did keep us pinned down in Parliament House with his sniper rifle for a long time, we could try luring in some more falling stars to increase the food supply. They’ve only ever attacked living targets in the past, but they may be desperate enough to come for a heap of falling star skins.”
“It’s true that falling stars are cannibals,” said Donnell. “You’d better keep some of the discarded falling star skins, Natsumi.”
The sound of childish voices warned us that Rufus and Theo were coming back, so we all turned to look at them.
“You give the warning once, then you count to sixty, and then you give the warning again,” said Theo earnestly.
Rufus made a wordless sound of disgust. “I did count to sixty.”
“No, you didn’t,” said Theo.
Natsumi waved at them and pointed to the back wall. “Wait over there until I call you.”
The two boys changed direction, and I heard Rufus continue defending himself. “I did count to sixty. I counted to sixty-six!”
The rest of us stood watching as the boys walked towards the blackened, marble depression next to the back wall. That had originally held an ornamental pool, but the alliance cooking fire had burned there for years. A stack of portal rings had been welded together to make a chimney, which – depending on the direction of the wind – sent most of the smoke into a blocked-off stairwell. Now the New York power supply was working again, we were using electric cooking devices, so the air in Reception was free of the acrid taste of smoke.
Theo and Rufus sat down on the walled edge of the empty cooking fire pit. Satisfied that they were safely out of earshot, Natsumi faced Donnell again.
“I’ll keep the falling star skins,” she said. “Are you and Blaze going to eat your meals right away, or do you want me to put them in stasis boxes for you?”
“We don’t need stasis boxes,” said Donnell. “Blaze and I will only be taking our meals as far as the off-worlders’ hospital room before we eat them.”
Natsumi turned to call to her sister, Himeko. “I need two small stasis boxes.”
“I just told you that we don’t need stasis boxes,” said Donnell, in a plaintive voice.
“I know exactly what happens when you carry your meal off elsewhere, Sean.” Natsumi waved her ladle sternly at Donnell. “Someone stops you on the way, insists on telling you about what they think is an urgent crisis, and your meal gets freezing cold. It’s not as if we’re short of stasis boxes. We’ve got rooms piled to the ceiling with them.”
Himeko arrived with the two stasis boxes. “Yes, and those stasis boxes were designed to preserve legal documents for centuries, so they’re about the only thing in New York that we can rely on to keep working.”
Natsumi put covers over the plates, then Himeko packed them in the boxes and activated the stasis fields. The pair of them each held out a box towards Donnell and me, and Natsumi pointedly looked me in the eyes as I took mine.
“Blaze, don’t let Donnell touch any whiskey. We need him absolutely sober tonight.”
Donnell groaned and accepted his stasis box. “I wouldn’t drink more than a glass or two.”
“Absolutely sober, Sean,” Natsumi and Himeko chanted the words in unison.
Donnell groaned again. I saw the curtain in the Manhattan corner move, tapped Donnell on the shoulder, and pointed at the two boys coming out, Fleet and Otis.
“Manhattan is sending out its messenger boys.”
Donnell glanced across at them and blinked. “I thought Johann was a little young to be a messenger boy, but Otis is only four.”
“When Wall is especially worried about who he can trust, he uses his nephews and nieces,” I said. “Fleet doesn’t need any help, but the rules say messenger boys have to trav
el in pairs, so Wall sent Otis with him. They seem to be looking for you.”
We were standing by the food tables, in an area of Reception free to anyone, so the boys came straight up to us without shouting warnings. Otis was a miniature, slender version of Wall, with the same black hair and dark skin, while his older half-brother, Fleet, had straighter hair and skin that was a shade paler.
“Manhattan messengers,” said Fleet briskly, and held out a large envelope to Donnell. “Sealed message from Wall to be handed to Donnell or Blaze only. Contents expected.”
Donnell accepted the envelope and tucked it inside his jacket. “Tell Wall that I’m grateful for him responding so quickly.”
Otis turned to me. “Look at me, Blaze! Otis is a messenger boy!”
He tugged proudly at his overlarge white tabard marked with the skyscraper of Manhattan, and held up his arms for me to pick him up.
“Blaze can’t pick you up when you’re a messenger boy,” said Fleet. “It would violate your immunity.”
Otis gave a heavy sigh. “You helping with crèche tomorrow, Blaze?” he asked hopefully.
“I’m afraid I have other work to do,” I said.
“It’s been ages,” said Otis reproachfully. “We want you to tell us the moon story.”
I saw Donnell wince at the mention of the moon story, and hastily shook my head. “I’m sure one of the other women on crèche duty can tell you the moon story.”
Otis gave the heavy sigh again. “They don’t do it right.”
“Messenger boys shouldn’t chat with people,” Fleet hissed at Otis.
“But ...”
Fleet grabbed Otis’s arm, and towed him off towards the Manhattan corner. Otis twisted round to wave goodbye as he was dragged backwards through the curtain. I automatically waved in return, and caught Donnell waving too.
Natsumi laughed. “Otis has inherited his mother’s charm.”
Donnell turned to face me. “You’ve been telling the crèche children the moon story, Blaze?”
“Only a couple of times,” I said guiltily. “It was when everything was in confusion after the winter fever. They kept asking when Kasim would tell them the moon story again, and ...”
“Don’t look so nervous about this, Blaze,” said Donnell. “I’m glad that the children remember Kasim’s ridiculous stories. If we ever have a peaceful day, then you must tell them the moon story again.”
We turned to walk towards the Sanctuary wing of the building. As Donnell pulled aside the curtain marked with the red cross, he caught sight of my expression and raised an eyebrow.
“What’s amused you, Blaze?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know it’s wrong of me to be laughing at things when Rogue’s been shot, and the alliance is on the brink of war.”
“Yes, we’re facing total disaster,” said Donnell, “but that’s precisely why it’s right for you to be laughing, Blaze. When you stop laughing, it’s a sign that your spirit is broken, and you’re already defeated.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“So what was it that amused you?” asked Donnell. “Otis showing off his messenger boy tabard, or the way Rufus and Theo were arguing? I was thinking they were nearly as bad as Luther and Julien.”
“Actually, it wasn’t either of those things.”
“What then?”
I felt myself flush with embarrassment. “It was the way Natsumi threatened you with that ladle and scolded you.”
Donnell grinned at me. “Yes, I have a special relationship with the older members of the Resistance. The ones who were with me when I first raised the Earth Resistance flag.”
“They often call you Sean rather than Donnell,” I said.
“Yes, that’s part of it. When I was fourteen years old, the Earth Loyalist Party recruited me to sing their songs. I became famous as the voice and the symbol of their cause, and news reporters started shortening Sean Donnelly to Donnell. That name stuck, so I became Donnell as my public image, but I preferred my closest friends to keep calling me Sean.”
Donnell shrugged. “So the inner circle of the Resistance still call me Sean. I’m their leader, and they’ll generally treat me with respect in public, though Machico sometimes teases me. Weston and Vijay’s jokes can push the line too, particularly when they’re using them to cope with the stress in combat situations.”
Donnell laughed. “In private, it’s a different matter though. We’re friends who’ve learnt the best and the worst of each other over the decades. They know all my faults, and discuss them in embarrassing detail. In fact, they fuss over me, scold me, and order me around like a much-loved but not entirely trustworthy child.”
I smiled. “Like Rufus.”
“Exactly like Rufus. Wall talked earlier about how he’d given you Manhattan’s allegiance. He used words to give that allegiance, it comes from his head, and it means a lot. Wall will listen to what you say, and give it careful consideration even when he doesn’t like it, but there are limits to what he’ll do for you.”
Donnell paused. “The Resistance do things differently though. Their allegiance to me doesn’t come from the head but the heart, and it has no limits.”
“I’ve heard you say that you chose the Earth Resistance salute to be the hand on heart because important things come from the heart.”
“Yes, the inner circle of the Resistance fuss over me in a way that can be maddening at times, but it’s their way of expressing their devotion, and the fact they would give their lives for me without hesitation. One day, you’ll find the Resistance start fussing over you as well. When they do, then you need to understand what it means and welcome it.”
I pulled a doubtful face. “I don’t think I’ll ever be in that position. It’s six years since I arrived in New York. For most of those years, the inner circle of the Resistance has either ignored me or made it clear they resented my existence.”
“That was my fault. When your brother left, we had a colossal argument. I knew that I’d handled things disastrously, and barely dared to speak to you in case I made things even worse, while Hannah was busily widening the gulf between us by whispering poison in your ear. The Resistance saw we were estranged, and blindly took my side the way they always do.”
He waved his hands. “It’s highly significant that Natsumi and Himeko scolded me in front of you. It means the inner circle of the Resistance are starting to fully accept you, as both my daughter and my deputy.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Perhaps they’re starting to accept me, but they’ll never feel about me the way that they do about you. I haven’t inherited your looks or your magic voice.”
Donnell patted me on the shoulder. “You have your own gifts, Blaze. Machico keeps saying that you’re more intelligent than me and know how to fight with words.”
I made a dubious noise, and we walked on down the corridor. As we neared the damp patch left by a leaking water pipe, I saw the black shapes of cockroaches scuttling around, and paused to stamp on them.
Donnell turned to look back at me. “You’re wasting your time attacking those cockroaches, Blaze. They were already nesting under the floor here when the Resistance took control of Parliament House from the United Earth Government. We’ve spent thirty years trying to get rid of them, using everything including poison, but they’re still here. Cockroaches are nearly as hard to kill as Cage.”
I winced at the mention of Cage, and hurried to catch up with Donnell. We ignored the side turnings that led to store rooms, heading straight on into the hospital area of Sanctuary, and reached the point where there was a choice of three directions, each leading to a different hospital room. Donnell tucked his stasis box under his left arm, and opened one of the double fire doors straight ahead of us. The missing glass in those fire doors, where I’d shot at them with my gun, was another reminder of Cage.
When we walked on down the corridor, we found Weston, Tad, and Braden standing in the corridor outside the off-worlders’ hospital room.
“What’s been happening?” asked Weston. “We heard shouting earlier.”
“Cage has managed to find a working projectile sniper rifle, killed Rogue, and escaped again,” said Donnell grimly. “Inevitably, Queens Island is blaming Manhattan for everything.”
Weston groaned. “Chaos weeping.”
“Go to join my other officers in Reception, Weston, and they’ll tell you the full details. I’ll be back in Reception myself in a few minutes.”
Weston nodded and went off down the corridor.
“Are you hurt, Blaze?” asked Tad anxiously. “You look very pale.”
“I’m just tired,” I said.
“I’ve been dreadfully worried about you,” said Tad. “I had my algorithm watching for power fluctuations west of the Unity Bridge, and it reported three entire apartment blocks going power dead. The only explanation I could think of was that random buildings were collapsing in that area. I kept imagining nightmare images of you being hit by falling rubble.”
“The apartment blocks didn’t collapse,” said Donnell. “Blaze and I set fire to them.”
Tad blinked. “You set fire to three apartment blocks? Why?”
“To make sure that Cage wasn’t hiding inside them,” said Donnell.
“Wasn’t that a little destructive?” asked Braden.
Donnell shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if we set fire to some apartment blocks. The whole of New York will be bursting into flames this summer.”
“I suppose that’s true,” said Braden.
“I can’t believe Rogue is dead,” muttered Tad. “I saw him heading off with the hunting parties this morning, and he was perfectly well.”
“Tad, whether Rogue was well or not this morning makes no difference,” said Donnell gently. “He didn’t die of an illness. Cage shot him.”
“I know that.” Tad tugged at his hair. “It’s just hard to absorb the fact that Rogue could have died so quickly.”
Scavenger Blood Page 10
