“Don’t sithisis the cress,” said Mrs. Colbshallow and it took Yuah a moment before she remembered that “cress” was a Brech word.
The first lizardman placed the pork on the sandwich along with several large pieces of cress and presented the plate to Yuah.
“I’m sorry, but we’re all out of tomato, dear.”
“That’s quite all right,” she replied, then to the reptilian. “Thank you, Suzak, is it?”
“Sasson,” said Mrs. Colbshallow, pointing to each of the creatures in turn. “That’s Suzak, Kinter, Carnine, Shirry, and Tiny by the stove.”
“Thank you Sasson,” said Yuah. “I don’t know how you can tell them all apart, Mrs. Colbshallow. I can recognize some of them, but they do tend to look alike don’t they?”
“It’s really not that hard, dear. You’ll get the hang of it.” Mrs. Colbshallow then hissed out another series of sounds at Kinter who had forgotten to put away the excess pork.
Yuah took her food into the dining room and sat down alone at the great table. A moment later, Sasson, at least she thought it was Sasson, brought her a cup of tea. She sipped it and thought of what a wonderful morning it had been. Just as she finished her lunch, Yuah heard a series of honking sounds coming from the front of the house. She thought at first that a group of triceratops had wandered into town. This had in fact happened on more than one occasion. But the honk of the dinosaurs was deeper and more resonant than the one now, so she set down her teacup and went out the front door. In the street, at the far end of the front garden, sat two shiny steam carriages. Terrence sat in the driver’s seat of the foremost, while Saba Colbshallow sat in the other.
“Oh my goodness,” said Yuah, walking quickly down the front steps and across the yard. “I never thought I would see a steam carriage again.
“Or smell one,” she added as the coal smoke from the twin smokestacks swung in her direction.
“That one is Iolanthe’s,” said Terrence. “I received her order in Decius and when I went to purchase hers, I decided to get a second.”
“They’re beautiful,” said Yuah. “They must be brand new.”
“They couldn’t be newer if we were in Brech. This is the first time they’ve ever been fired up. I believe someone said something about wanting presents.”
“What?”
“This one is yours,” he said.
“Mine? But I don’t even know how to drive. I could probably count the number of times I’ve even been a passenger on my fingers.”
“It’s easy. Go get your coat on, and we’ll go for a drive.”
Yuah ran inside to put on a coat, scarf, and gloves. She pulled her hood over her head and buttoned it down. When she came back outside, Saba had pulled Iolanthe’s steam carriage around to the side of the house and parked it, and Terrence had moved over into the passenger side of his… of hers… of their vehicle. He patted the driver’s seat with his hand.
“I don’t have any driving goggles,” she said, arranging her dress so that it didn’t bunch on the leather seat.
“You don’t need any. We have a windscreen.”
“All right, what do I do?”
“Put your left foot on the clutch and your right foot on the decelerator.”
“Okay.”
“Push the shifter into first forward gear, then release the brake.”
She did as directed.
“Take your foot of the decelerator and move it to the accelerator. Then gently release the clutch as you press down with your right foot.”
The steam carriage lurched forward and shot down the street. Yuah shrieked in alarm, but she pulled her foot up off the pedal and the vehicle rolled on at a speedy but no longer steadily increasing pace.
“See, it’s easy,” said Terrence. “Now you’re coming to the end of the street. Press the decelerator and make the left turn.”
Yuah pressed down her foot, but instead of the intended pedal, pressed the accelerator. She shrieked again as they shot forward. She turned the steering wheel to the left, and the steam carriage turned, but not nearly enough. Terrence reached down and pulled the brake just as they slammed to a stop in a large snow bank beside the road. They were both thrown forward, Yuah hitting her breastbone on the steering wheel and Terrence hitting his head on the glove compartment latch.
Looking at her husband, Yuah started to cry.
“What’s the matter?”
“Blood,” she said.
Terrence rubbed the goose egg on his forehead and looked at the small smear of blood on his hand.
“I’m fine.”
The steam engine began to whistle and he climbed out and walked to the back to open the pressure relief cock. When he returned to the passenger compartment, he helped his wife climb across and exit from the passenger side.
“I guess we have to walk home,” he said. “I’m going to need help to get this thing unstuck.”
“I’m never going to drive again!” wailed Yuah, her tears starting once again.
“Why not?” asked her husband. “You’re already a better driver than Iolanthe.”
Chapter Ten: A Constable’s Duty
Saba Colbshallow rapped his knuckles on the front door of the five-story structure, again, louder than he had before, but there was just as little response as there had been the first time.
“Police constable!” he called. He waited a bit longer, and was just about to leave when he heard a distinctly sultry voice from inside.
“Who is it?”
“Police constable,” he said again.
The door opened and Zurfina stood in the doorway, her strange little leather dress displaying a good portion of her breasts with their star tattoos as well as her long legs. Her thigh high boots had such high heels that she could almost look Saba in the eye.
“Yes? What is it?” she said, with the air of someone who had just been interrupted in the middle of something vitally important.
“May I come in?” he asked.
With an exaggerated sigh, the sorceress turned her back and walked into the house, leaving the door wide open. Saba followed her in and looked around the large room that formed the lower level of the structure. It was, he thought, a surprisingly mundane looking combination of kitchen, parlor, and dining room. The place was tidy and organized, none of the furnishings looking particularly worn or new, expensive or poor. Zurfina waved her hand and the door slammed shut behind him, causing him to jump a little.
“Well?”
Saba swallowed. He had known Zurfina for four years now, and found her just as wondrous, mysterious, and fascinating as he had when he was sixteen. He had of course grown up to be a police constable, but she had grown to be a legend. She was an attractive woman: not as beautiful as Mrs. Dechantagne of course, not as charming as Mrs. Dechantagne-Calliere was at least capable of being, and nowhere near as adorable as Miss Lusk. Neither did she have the curvaceous figure of Dr. Kelloran. But as writer Geert Resnick wrote in his novel The Pale Sun, “the painting that most draws one to it, is not the most beautiful, but the one hanging to the wall by the most tenuous thread.” Zurfina held the same appeal as a fast horse, an unstable bomb, or a canoe in a river filled with crocodiles. And there was power. Power was always appealing.
Zurfina sensed his hesitation and moved to stand very close to him.
“Now, little Saba,” she said, with exaggerated slowness. “What brings you to see Zurfina the Magnificent?”
Saba had perfected his stare: a piercing look that let those he was interviewing know that he would brook no nonsense. He gave the sorceress one of these stares, but it didn’t seem to work as well as it was supposed to. She stepped a little closer and he suddenly realized he could smell her breath. It was minty.
“Little Saba.” Her charcoaled grey eyes seemed to be looking at something just below the surface of his face.
He swallowed.
“Police Constable Colbshallow,” he corrected.
She leaned forward so that the tip of her nos
e was only an inch from his.
“Little Saba,” she repeated. “There’s something you’ve been dying to tell me.”
“No there isn’t.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m here about a Miss Amadea Jindra.”
Zurfina leaned back and scrunched up her nose. “Now what business is that of yours?”
He retrieved the notepad from his coat pocket and flipped it open. Turning so that he had better light to read by, he took the opportunity step away from the sorceress.
“It was reported that you kidnapped, um… acquired Miss Jindra from the deck of the S.S. Arrow four days ago, and no one has seen her since.”
“I say again, what business is it of yours?” Zurfina spoke distinctly, chopping each word as if came out of her mouth. The temperature of the room dropped several degrees.
“You cannot simply snatch people off the street…” His voice trailed off as he noticed the sorceress’s eyes flashing.
Zurfina folded her arms across her chest and raised one eyebrow. At that moment the door swung open and Senta walked in. Her bright pink dress peaked out from beneath a heavy white overcoat, with a fur trimmed hood. She was carrying a large bed pillow under each arm. She kicked the door shut with the heel of her shoe, and walked over to stand next to the sorceress. She looked first at Zurfina and then at Saba.
“Okay,” said Senta. “What’s going on?”
“Little Saba was just telling me what I can and cannot do.”
“Well, this isn’t going to end up well, and you know who will have to clean up the mess? Me, that’s who. Here are your pillows,” Senta shoved the pillows into Zurfina’s hands.
Once the sorceress had taken the pillows, Senta took Saba by the hand and led him toward the front door.
“Let’s talk outside. I love the smell of pine trees and chimney smoke.” She led him outside, closing the front door behind her. “What exactly are you doing?”
“Conducting police business.”
“Stopping me from taking care of those wankers who shot Bessemer has gone to your head, eh?”
“This is my job. This is what I do,” said Saba. “I protect the public peace.”
“And do you ever think about how you would do that job if you were turned into, say, I don’t know, a pig?”
“A pig?”
“Maybe a pig. Could be anything really. I thought I was about to see a Police Constable shaped lawn ornament. But then I don’t have Zurfina’s wide experience and peculiar wit.”
“Well I have to go back in and talk to her.”
“Did they have to take your brain out to make that helmet fit?”
“That’s not funny little girl. I have to find out what she did with Miss Jindra.”
“I’m not a little girl,” said Senta. “And Miss Jindra is just fine. Did you think that Zurfina did her in or something?”
“That was one possibility that came to mind.”
“Miss Jindra is fine. She’s staying here with us.”
“I would like to hear that from her.”
“Fine. I’ll bring her around to the police station. But if I were you, I would stay away from Zurfina. She thinks you’re cute, but she doesn’t like anyone giving her guff.”
“All right. You bring Miss Jindra around to the station. Mind you, it’s today I want to see her.” Saba raised an eyebrow. “Zurfina thinks I’m cute?”
“All the girls think you’re cute, except for me. I think you’re a bit of a twit.” Senta turned and opened the door, stepping quickly inside.
Saba put his booklet away in his coat pocket, and was just about to start away when he heard a raised voice inside the building.
“Just what do you think you’re doing? Do you think you can just do anything you want?” He was more than a little surprised that the voice belonged to Senta. “I have to live here you know!”
Feeling that he had already heard more than he should, Saba walked down the narrow pathway to the snowy street. The snowdrifts along the side of the road were four feet deep in some places, but the roads had been largely cleared by spreading salt. It hadn’t snowed in almost a week, and Saba suspected that it wasn’t going to any more this winter. A sudden breath of wind reminded him that it was still a long way until spring though.
In the distance, Saba heard the whistle of the train, and he decided it might be a good time to walk down and take a look at the new station. Built at the very southern edge of the community, the station was just over two miles southeast of Zurfina’s tower. It could have been a nice walk through the trees at another time of the year, but a glance at the vacant area across the street convinced him that such a path would prove impassable now. So he stuck to the roadways, making a left and a right and a left as he came to each intersection. Houses were spaced far apart here, but there was still the feeling of being in a town.
The southernmost east and west roadway was Forest Avenue, which was appropriately named, as it marked the boundary between the colony and the great forest of impossibly tall redwood trees, large spruces, massive maples, and bay trees that stretched for hundreds of miles, just beyond. One could argue that it wasn’t much of a true boundary, as a good portion of the colony was still covered over by a patchwork of forested lots. But it was definitely true that the colonists considered the land beyond Forest Avenue to be “wild”.
Saba walked along this last stretch of road until he reached the train station, which was the only thing located on the south side of Forest Avenue. The station itself wasn’t much to look at. It was a small arched roof building ten foot by forty foot, built on a platform so that it would be level with the arriving and departing trains. The platform itself was a much larger project than the building, which sat upon it. Thirty feet wide and more than one hundred feet long, it was more than four feet above the ground in most places. Beyond it were several miles of tree stumps, land that had been denuded for the colony’s timber needs. The area just beyond the station would be used for a switchyard, where trains could turn around, rearrange cars, and do whatever else it was that trains did in such places. Saba found it a little difficult to envision how it would look when it was completed, but it would be completed soon.
There was no one around. The station was waiting for the tracks, being laid even now by the construction train only a few dozen miles away. Saba found the stillness a bit unnerving. It was not too far from here that, two years before, a pack of tyrannosaurs had attacked his militia squad. There were no tyrannosaurs now though. There was life present. Half a dozen polacanthus females were browsing through the man-made clearing, biting off the ends of those bushes that stuck out of the snow. Saba could tell they were females by their dull colors. Just a little bit shorter than a horse, these thirteen foot long dinosaurs were heavily built with pointy spines poking out at forty-five degree angles right and left from the top of their neck to their mid-back for protection. From their hips to the ends of their tales, they had smaller spiny plates that served the same purpose. The spot right above their rear hips was covered by a flat bony plate. It was this flat spot which encouraged some of the colonists to think that the polacanthus might be a suitable beast of burden and several of them had been captured and were now living in the dinosaur pens at the opposite end of Port Dechantagne. It was the feature at the other end of their bodies, which caused Saba to doubt their suitability for any human enterprise. Their very small heads apparently housed a very small brain. The six creatures now milling beyond the train station had little room in their attentions for anything but the stray branches of rhododendrons that might appear before their eyes.
Saba continued past the station and had gone less than a quarter mile, when he heard a scream ahead. Just around the corner of Bay Street, he saw several velociraptors moving around in the street. It took a moment before he saw the object of their interest, a woman in a white dress and matching white coat with a hood that made her blend into the background of snow. She screamed again as one of the vicio
us feathered creatures snapped at her. Saba ran forward, shouting and pulling his truncheon from his belt.
The velociraptors, startled, scattered as he reached the young woman, but they didn’t go far. Saba knew that once they had decided upon their prey, they would be loath to give up on it. One had run into the trees, but three stayed on the roadway watching and squawking. It was only a matter of time before their sounds brought more of the creatures from the woods, and he didn’t relish fighting off a dozen of the small predators with only his club.
He grasped the young woman by the arm and pulled her along toward the closest house, a hundred and fifty yards away. The fur-trimmed hood of her coat hid her features from him, but a few strands of blond hair trailed along as he hurried her down the street.
Saba continued to look back as he urged the young woman forward. The velociraptors followed and grew increasingly bold, snapping their long jaws at the couple’s heels. By the time they reached the front of the house, one had come close enough that Saba’s club made solid contact with its head. Dashing up to the front door of the dwelling, he shoved on the doorknob, hoping that the door would not be locked, and was rewarded when it flew open. He stepped inside, pulling the woman in after him, and slammed the door shut.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I hate this place,” she sobbed. “I want to go back to Brech.”
“At moments like this, I’m not too fond of it myself,” he said.
He knew the family who owned the house, the Wissingers, but they appeared to be away from home. The front room of the tiny three-room house was dark and quiet. He found an oil lamp on a small table just left of the door, with a box of matches, and lit it. Then he made a quick scan of the house for weapons, though he was pretty sure the Wissingers would not have a firearm. Middle-aged Freedonian Zaeries, Zossef and Magda Wissinger had been among the second shipload of immigrants to arrive in Birmisia. Though they had no family besides each other, they usually let out one room of their home. Saba seemed to recall that they had a family of four living with them. He wondered where they all were now.
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