Yngve, AR - Darc Ages 02 - City Of Masks

by City Of Masks (lit)

  The door was padlocked with an iron chain, two inches thick. Threo gave the candle to Awonso, and opened his medical bag. From the bag, Threo picked up a miniscule flask in a copper-wire frame, and carefully unscrewed the glass cork.

  "Stand back."

  He put the flask's opening against the padlock and slowly dripped the liquid onto the lock's thick metal link. The acid hissed and spouted smoke as it ate through the metal; within half a minute, the link had corroded badly.

  Threo put away the flask, wrapped a cloth around the padlock and pulled. It snapped easily. They pushed at the door with a collective effort, and it creaked open on rusted handles.

  Inside, a few electric lamps cast a blue-tinted gloom against a vast vault of brick arches. Water dripped down from countless leaks in the blackened ceiling.

  A faint hum came from far away.

  "Must be near the city's power plant," Awonso said. "The static is stronger." He pointed forward, and they walked hurriedly across the wet floor. "We should wear protective suits, like the guild workers do in my town..."

  "Quiet."

  They hid in a niche, and held their breath as footsteps approached from a crossing corridor. They could catch a brief glimpse of the passing figure and its face.

  The figure wore the gold-colored clothes of the city lord. His unmasked face was bearded, like on the mask they had seen - but the living nose on this person was absurdly large and swollen almost into a trunk that reached down over his mouth.

  Tufts of hair grew on his pockmarked skull, and his mask hung suspended over a furrowed, pale forehead, ready to come down over the misshapen face. It seemed that the mask had very long cheeks, to make room for the enormous nose. The mask came with a wig that he carried in his hands, and his breathing sounded labored.

  The misshapen man walked past them, opened a door and locked it behind him.

  For a few seconds Threo and Awonso were too stunned to speak. They felt an almost irresistible urge to move on, driven by their obsessively curious nature. The hum of the power plant beckoned down the blue-lit hall.

  "No," Awonso whispered, "Someone might come looking for us. We must go back now and warn the sire and Lady Okono."

  Without saying more, they retraced their steps and returned upstairs as quickly as they could.

  Chapter 6

  When Awonso and Threo sneaked back into the banquet hall, a dance was going on there. Sir Kensaburé and Lady Okono stood out from the court crowd with their awkward attempts to dance to the unfamiliar, stilted string music.

  "This is not what I call music," Kensaburé said to her through his mask. "Back home, musicians play the music of the Singing King."

  "You have already stepped on my foot once," Okono said in a strained voice. Please do not do it again; you are heavy."

  "Where did the good doctor go?"

  The dance ended. During the applause, Kensaburé walked over to the two servants - and found Awonso, wearing his radio on his back, talking to Threo, who was carrying his doctor's bag.

  "Listen, sire," Awonso said as soon as he saw the blond giant come closer. "We saw something you would not believe. The city lord, or someone wearing his mask..."

  "Impossible," the blond knight said. "Berluchos has been here with us all evening."

  "How do you know it is him?" asked Threo, waving his index-finger in Kensaburé's face, and the knight felt tempted to pull rank. "The one we saw was..." He hesitated, and whispered in the knight's ear.

  Kensaburé stepped in behind a column and pulled up his mask; his real face showed the horror he felt. "Are you certain? A Leper, here? Disguised as Berluchos?"

  "Don't you understand?" Threo said, and pulled up his mask to reveal his anger and gritted teeth. "That was Berluchos! We have entered Leper City! If they learn what we know, we'll never make it out of here alive!"

  "Now wait," Awonso broke in, "we have only seen the city lord's face. Librian and Darc taught me not to make hasty conclusions, and..."

  "And you speak like a coward, doctor." Kensaburé pulled his mask back in place. "Put your mask on, and try not to tremble too much. I was getting bored, but now the evening suddenly became interesting."

  Okono, still masked, joined them and asked what was going on. Buchu whispered in her ear what he had overheard, and her stance went rigid with fear. Jacob was also getting jittery.

  "Relax," his master told him. "We are immune, remember? Just keep the mask on, and do not let them suspect anything. If we try to flee, we are done for."

  "And the radio, sire?" asked Awonso. "Should I alert Lord Damon?"

  "Can your signal get through?"

  "Perhaps not."

  "Then wait. We do not know who else here might be listening in on us."

  "I cannot believe it," Okono said in a taut, whispering voice. "They are so well mannered, their clothes are costly, the food is good, their speech... but if it is true, then the vaccine cannot help them. Can it?"

  "It would cure their next generation," Threo replied. "And with the masks, their own children would not know what their parents really look like. It could still be done."

  Awonso asked: "Doctor, what happens the moment you ask to examine one of them... and he pulls up his sleeve to show you a deformed arm? Then our game will be up. By the Goddess, do not show them how you inoculate patients just yet!"

  Kensaburé clenched his fists and had to restrain himself from pounding the column. "I... I need to think. We need to find someone we can trust in this court. Someone who is not a Leper."

  Threo nodded his head in the direction of the chattering, masked court. "Pick and choose. I would not trust a single one of them."

  Okono sighed. "You men are dumber than robots! Let me handle this. I shall gain the complete confidence of Lord Berluchos. And you, sire, should try to impress his daughter with that sea battle you won."

  "But... she could be..."

  "You said you were getting bored. You do not have to lift her veil and kiss her." She adjusted the mask on her head, and tilted her head sideways, then put one finger coyly against her painted, pouting lips. "Talk to her mask."

  Kensaburé understood: Okono was asking him to act. He would rather be back in battle, but he had no choice; those guns in the harbor could sink their ship in an instant if they tried to make a fast escape.

  "So be it," he said. "Everyone must act. Never risk surprising one of the Vanitians undisguised. As long as we put up the act, they will let us stay alive. That is an order, Jacob. And that means you too, Buchu."

  "Yes, sire."

  "As you wish."

  Gradischa came over to them, accompanied by the slim-robed figure of Sarastos. "Are you enjoying yourselves?" she asked. Okono told her robot to be quiet; she was starting to learn the Vanitian dialect.

  "We are most pleased," she said, and pantomimed happiness. "But..." she shook her head, like a born stage actress. In her childhood, Okono had seen traditional theater performers on stage with masks, re-enacting ancient legends of the Yotas' forefathers from the Far East. Now the manners of the actors played in her memory, and the act came effortlessly. "How sad."

  Even though Gradischa did not fully comprehend Okono's words, she understood the pantomime immediately.

  "Is something wrong?"

  "It is a disgrace. I should not say it."

  The others were alarmed. Was she trying to suggest the truth and have them all killed?

  "It is nothing, really..." Kensaburé said. "Lady Okono is just..."

  She patted his broad shoulder sympathetically. "The poor Sir Kensaburé is sick."

  "What?"

  "Ever since he laid his eyes on your daughter. Sick with love. He confessed it to me just now."

  Kensaburé had never hit a woman in his life, but right then he was very close to doing it. Okono poked him in the rib.

  "It... it is true," he said, and hung his head in genuine embarrassment. "I am a sick man ever since I saw her. Our doctor cannot cure this fever."

  "
Quite," Threo said behind his mask. "No cure for that."

  Sarastos nodded slowly. When he spoke, his voice sounded identical to the one they had heard the first time. "Shall I inform Bottichea that she has a possible suitor, my lady?"

  "Let me take care of that, Sarastos," said Gradischa and adjusted her mask slightly, brushed back some of the locks of her red wig, and slid closer to Kensaburé. "Oh my. You really are a mountain of muscle. I wager you could easily wrestle my husband to the ground. Or wrestle me."

  This is a nightmare , thought Kensaburé. Older women had flirted with him before, but never this brazenly - and he feared what kind of hideous face hid behind her prim mask.

  "May I speak to your daughter, my lady?" he asked. "In your presence, of course."

  "I am sure we can arrange something, sire," Gradischa said. She offered him her arm and practically dragged him away across the floor.

  "My mistress may have had too much to drink tonight," Sarastos said. "You should not worry too much, my lady." He seemed to focus his attention on Okono. "Our people live a tense existence here. But at night, in the dark... the masks tend to come off. You have nothing to fear as long as the masks stay on."

  It was impossible to tell whether the counselor was insinuating something, or trying to communicate. A suspicion came over Threo that Sarastos had made a pass at Okono, and it angered him.

  "We are on a mission from the greatest powers in all of Juro. We do not have time for games. Your city lord said that he could find a... a test subject for our vaccine. Outside the city. Is this the right time to ask him about it?"

  "No no," Sarastos said, folding his arms so that the gloved hands disappeared under his long sleeves. "Whatever he says tonight, he will have forgotten by tomorrow."

  "And we should forget what you said tonight?" asked Okono, an edge creeping into her voice. She had heard the insinuation in Sarastos' words, and she did not like it. The man acted like a schemer of the sort she knew from home and would not trust. "I shall follow the second part of your advice and keep my mask on at all times."

  Sarastos inched away from her and straightened his posture, like a man spurned, but said: "You are wise. Under other circumstances, I would have chosen a different role when speaking to you, my lady."

  "Will you let our doctor vaccinate your citizens?" she asked.

  "I shall let him meet with our physicians' guild. Tomorrow. The guild chairman is not here tonight." He turned to Awonso.

  "That is quite an impressive machine you are carrying around, young man. Is that the 'radio' miracle we heard of recently?"

  Awonso was glad he had the mask on; he was blushing.

  "I built it myself, sire... my father heads the Guild of Micromechanics where I come from."

  "How interesting. I cannot wait to hear that thing work, myself... but not here with all this company, who might be disturbed by the noise."

  Again he suggested rather than told what he wanted.

  "It doesn't, sire. I am only getting random noise in this city. If I may ask... does your city have a power plant?"

  "Yes. The reactor below the city provides electric power for the city lights and defenses, and heats it during winter. Why?"

  "The noise in my radio receiver could come from a serious radiation leak. I think the responsible guild ought to examine the cooling system and insulation of your city's reactor. If it is a leak, it must be repaired soon or a disaster might happen."

  Sarastos's masked head nodded quickly, and for a moment his arms swayed oddly about, as if he had lost control of them. Then he straightened up and went stiff, and extended a hand to press Awonso's arm.

  "You have done our city a great service, young man. I shall personally see to it that you are rewarded. Do not worry about the power guild. I shall deal with them. Now, if you may excuse me... good night. Enjoy yourselves. But carefully."

  The counselor walked away in haste, his legs completely concealed by his thick robes; it almost seemed his knees did not move. He followed the wall and disappeared into a doorway.

  "A radiation leak?" Okono asked Awonso. "Is this dangerous to us?"

  "If we stay much longer, yes. I suggest you do not go near the canals. I think the ducts I saw downstairs pump canal water into the power plant to cool it off. But that is not what frightens me the most. Sarastos is the city lord's right-hand man. He should be well informed about all matters pertaining to running the city. But this man almost panicked when I told him about a possible leak. He acted like someone who was ignorant about the guilds, about doctors, about many things except court intrigue. How did he get to hold this important position? Where do all these court people come from? Are we surrounded by impostors?

  "And if they are, where are the people with the knowledge, who are supposed to be running things like the power plant? I was told before, that the Vanitians use robot emissaries for all their trade with the outside world. Have you seen any robots but your own since we entered Vanitia?"

  "I shall ask the city lord to see one of his robots, once I gain his confidence."

  "Don't try too hard," Threo said, not softly enough to keep her from hearing. She thrust her chin defiantly in his direction, and shuffled off across the floor with Kiti-Mo in tow.

  "I'm afraid, doctor," Awonso said. "Look at all these people. I don't know what to think of them. What if all this is just one big act to divert us from the terrible truth..."

  "I'm starved and thirsty," Threo said. "Could your radio help us decide which food is safe to eat? Let us go into the kitchens and get some boiled water to drink."

  Buchu and Jacob stayed behind in silence. And the music played on, into the night.

  Chapter 7

  Meanwhile in Damon City, Librian worried.

  He met with Dohan and his wife Meijji, as they were playing chess in the great hall. Meijji was visibly pregnant with their first child. Dohan's mother and little sister watched the game and offered advice.

  Next to the chessboard lay a map of the world; discarded chess pieces had been placed out on those cities the plague vaccine had reached. No piece had yet been placed on the boot-shaped Italican peninsula.

  "Awonso has not transmitted any messages from Vanitia, my lord. If they need assistance, how soon can you send a relief force?"

  Dohan looked up from the chessboard, and scratched his short red beard. "All our forces are tied up elsewhere, old friend. And we are desperately short of aircraft. A relief force by sea would take, at best, a month to arrange and ship across. And now that the lord of Kibralta has proved to be a deceiver, we have lost the best port that connected us with Italica. So I fear I can do nothing for a while, until our relations with Kibralta improve."

  Librian was on the verge of tears. "What do I tell his parents?"

  Meijji, a brown-skinned beauty whose curves were ripe with motherhood, got out of her chair and grasped Librian's hand. "He is like a son to you."

  "He was going to take my place, and I am old. I taught him all I know." Librian's voice broke, and he removed his spectacles to wipe his eyes.

  "I am sure that with your learning, Awonso will pull through," Meijji reassured him.

  "And what about your brother Threo?" Dohan asked her, his forehead wrinkling. "How will he fare?"

  Meijji smiled. "As long as he does not put his foot in his mouth as usual, he'll come out without a scratch. If I learned anything from growing up in a family of physicians, it's this: everyone needs a doctor - and a doctor gains everyone's confidence. It is a blessing and a curse. Awonso could not ask for a better traveling partner."

  Librian thanked her, and left. Eveli pointed to the chessboard and said eagerly: "Move the knight and you trap her king!"

  Dohan leaned closer to the board and chuckled. "You must be working for Meijji, little sister! Her two towers guard the opening perfectly."

  "Stop calling me 'little' sister." Eveli dashed from her chair and stormed out of the hall.

  Dohan's mother fanned herself and said: "The young for
m of the Goddess is awakening early in her. You should send her to another city and let complete her education there."

  Dohan nodded. "Yes, I know. I have been too busy, but I promise I shall arrange a stay for her outside."

  "Where to?" asked Meijji.

  Dohan moved a knight closer to Meijji's queen. "Somewhere exciting, exotic..." Glancing at the map of Italica, he added: "Perhaps I should have let her go to Vanitia. In the company of Awonso and Kensaburé she ought to be safe and entertained..."

  The next morning, after an uneasy sleep disturbed by bad dreams, Awonso stirred awake and rushed into the bathroom. The palace had indoor plumbing, not as advanced as in Damon City, but good enough.

  When he came out of the bathroom, pale and gloomy, he recalled the coal tablets that Threo had forgotten to give him yesterday. He found his clothes laundered and dried on the table outside his door, dressed quickly and rushed to Threo's room.

  One look at Awonso's drawn face reminded Threo. "Ah yes, your coal tablet. I forgot." Threo, wearing the shirt he had slept in, let Awonso inside and picked up his bundle of laundered clothes by the door. "It lies on my table. You can wash it down with that wine they gave me... I don't drink wine when I work."

  When Awonso had swallowed his tablet with a few gulps of wine, he went over the balcony to look at the harbor. He stared at the anchored ships and passing sails in the distance, and grew anxious.

  "I can't see the Blackwhale! "

  "Let me show you," Threo said impatiently, and walked out on the balcony while he buttoned his jacket. "It's hard to see, behind that lighthouse and the statues... behind..." He went pale. "Sons of bitches! It's gone! That bastard captain left us stranded without a warning!"

  "I thought no ships could come or leave without permission?"

  They looked at each other.

  "Sarastos."

  "Berluchos."

  "No matter who, they let the captain run for it - perhaps they paid him off," Awonso said. "Now we're in trouble. Master Librian must be worried sick... and my parents..."