Blood Moon
Page 12
‘You mean they were here when you arrived…?’ The feathers rose in anger, like the hair on a dog’s back.
‘No, I mean they came when your mother called for help. Maybe Dusty had a piss or something by the lemon tree.’
‘With my father lying dead by the stairs?’
‘It’s still not proof!’ cried Ophelia desperately, as much to herself, I thought, as to Alan Anderson.
The lovely face shut down. ‘Tell Gloucester I’ll be over this afternoon,’ he repeated. ‘I’ll bring Mum too. No one should be left alone till we get this thing sorted.’
He turned so swiftly that his wings spread behind him, and loped towards the kitchen, his feathers quivering with anger.
I wondered suddenly if his modification would breed true. Was it a dominant or recessive gene responsible for feathers? Would he have to meet a feathered mate for his children to have feathers too?
I glanced at Ophelia, then we walked around the house to the floater.
Chapter 24
Ipunched in Black Stump’s coordinates. The floater rose over the dusty garden. Neither Ophelia nor I spoke.
I glanced up the hill. Yes, it was possible to see the Tree from here, waving its branches high above the Valley. It was possible to imagine, too, a vigilante mob marching up the hills towards it, with flaming torches.
No, not flaming torches. I wasn’t building a Virtual here. Nor would they come as a mob. They would simply wait below the old stone wall, with rifles and Brother Cydore’s tangler, and even lasersaws, or any other farm tool that might kill.
And next time Uncle Dusty or one of the cubs ran in the moonlight a bullet would bring them down. Death for death, the humans quietly eliminating the strangers of the night.
Chapter 25
Black Stump looked normal and peaceful and I was grateful. A table had been set up under the lichened apple trees—those wonderfully normal trees—and the kids were painting on giant sheets of what looked like old wrapping paper. Portia ran towards us as I landed the floater.
‘Look what I made!’ she yelled.
‘What is it?’ I tried to look suitably interested and child-friendly.
‘It’s a wolf mask!’ said Portia proudly. She held it out. I took it automatically.
‘Portia…’ Ophelia sounded bewildered.
‘I’m going to wear it next time the pirates come! That’ll really scare them! Pearl Earth’nWater at NetSchool says that wolves tear out your heart and eat it and…’
‘Portia!’ Opehlia’s voice was firmer now. ‘You know the people up at the Tree. Uncle Dusty wouldn’t tear out anyone’s heart, would he?’
‘Wouldn’t he?’ Portia sounded disappointed. Her ears were pointed, I noticed suddenly. It gave her even more of an elfin look. ‘I suppose not…can I have a ride in the floater again?’
‘Not now,’ said Ophelia. ‘Off you go. I want to have a word with Danielle.’
‘But I want a ride.’
‘No!’
‘But I saw pirates up on the hill last night,’ said Portia persuasively. ‘Out my window. We could…’
‘I said no!’ said Ophelia. She turned to me as Portia wandered back to the others. ‘She’s not really bloodthirsty, you know.’
‘I’m sure she isn’t,’ I said insincerely.
‘No, really. It’s just a game for her. And maybe a way of dealing with what she saw last year.’
I nodded slowly. It hadn’t occurred to me that those events would have affected the kids too.
‘Look,’ went on Ophelia hurriedly. ‘You don’t have to go back to the Tree.’
‘My bag’s there.’
‘Well, I could come with you. We’ll pick up your bag and…’
‘I want to go back,’ I said.
‘Are you sure?’ said Ophelia doubtfully. ‘Don’t feel you have to stay for our sakes. I know we got you in to this.’
‘I think I need to stay,’ I said. ‘Even more so now. If I’m there people will think twice about—well, maybe doing something stupid.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘No. But I’m still going back. Ophelia, you don’t really think…?’
‘I don’t know what to think any more,’ said Ophelia tiredly. ‘I’ve lived with those people all my life. And they are people. But I know Florrie Anderson too.’ She ran her fingers through her hair. ‘And Andy. Andy was a good man. A really good man. He wasn’t like the Patriarch or Brother Perry. He was just a quiet good man who ran his farm and looked after his kids and didn’t even object when his wife wanted a son from the wilder end of the baby catalogue. Any one of a dozen people could have killed those other two. But Andy—that was something different.’
‘Do you really think I’m in any danger at the Tree?’
‘Logically, no,’ said Ophelia. ‘Instinctively, yes. I really think you should come back here—or even just go home. We should never have dragged you into this thing.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ I promised. ‘I’ll leave the Tree if there’s even a hint of danger.’ The memory of Eleanor’s face in the silent kitchen, desperately hoping her children were safe, rose before me. ‘But I do need to stay there, if I can.’
Chapter 26
You’ve come back. Wondered if you would,’ said Uncle Dusty. He was lying on his rock by the front steps soaking up the sun, just as he had been when I first arrived. He yawned and stretched, stood up on his hind legs and padded stiffly over to me. ‘Just having a nap,’ he said. ‘Pretending I’m on guard.’
‘There haven’t been any more threats, have there?’
‘Depends what you mean by threats. NetSchool coordinator doesn’t want the cubs in the group anymore. Says there’s a new rule about “Animals”. Rules!’ His voice grew gruffer, more staccato. ‘Who makes up rules in the Outlands!’
‘I thought you didn’t think they needed NetSchool?”
‘Don’t. Don’t want them excluded either. Stupid anyway. Even if cubs were werewolves, what harm’s possible in Virtual? Emerald very upset,’ he added.
‘And Eleanor?’
‘Eleanor just says “I’ll fix it!”’ Dusty shrugged. ‘Too much even for Eleanor. Rusty home soon. Good thing.’ He seemed to remember something. ‘Ah, call for you too.’
‘Who was it?’
‘Don’t know. Eleanor took it. Takes most calls.’ He flopped down on all fours again, as though he was too stiff—or too upset—to stay upright, and padded up the path beside me.
‘Don’t you have your own comsig?’ I asked.
Most people—if they weren’t werewolves—had their own comsig. If they didn’t carry their own portable amplifier so they could take calls anywhere, the unamplified pulse in their mind would be strong enough to send them to the nearest Terminal.
‘Not implanted,’ said Uncle Dusty, his voice more indistinct on all fours and his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. ‘No point. Eleanor’s implanted though. And Emerald and cubs. Eleanor insisted on cubs being implanted.’
I nodded without speaking. I supposed that Dusty had been too wolf-like for it ever to have seemed possible that he’d take over the clan. Why would an eternal uncle need an implant?
‘Uncles don’t need implants,’ said Dusty. His eyes gleamed, and I wondered if the answer had been coincidence or his wolf sense of smell had detected the way my thoughts were going.
There was another bone in the doorway. Connie again, I supposed. It looked like chop bone from breakfast.
Dusty sniffed the air of the living room. ‘Eleanor’s in study,’ he growled. ‘Can smell outsiders. Always can when the Virtual’s been on.’ His voice was even more dog-like now, as thought the exertion of last night had left him too tired to play human. ‘Don’t like that thing. Smells; cling to Eleanor. Sex smells sometimes. Not right.’
‘It’s not real,’ I assured him. ‘You don’t have to worry about it. Where’s Emerald?’
‘Kitchen.’ Dusty was recovering his composure. ‘Cubs are napping.’
<
br /> ‘Would Eleanor mind if I interrupted her?’
‘Not as it’s you,’ said Uncle Dusty frankly, obviously making an attempt to speak human while he scratched behind an ear. ‘I wouldn’t dare.’
‘Why?’ I was curious. ‘Because of the strange scents?’
‘No. She’d snarl,’ said Dusty. ‘You’ve never seen Eleanor snarl. No, wouldn’t snarl. Be nice about it. But I’d remember how she could snarl and I’d…well, if you were wolf, you’d understand.’
‘Is that how Rusty and Eleanor keep control? By…snarling?’
Uncle Dusty stopped scratching and looked amused. ‘No,’ he said. ‘They…keep control by being the best.’
‘Till the next best one takes over?’
‘On the nose,’ said Dusty.
He hopped up onto a sofa, turned round three times then turned to me, his face disconcertingly human after such a doggy manoeuvre. ‘Eleanor is talking of moving.’ he added.
‘Away from the Tree? The whole clan?’
Dusty nodded. ‘Can’t imagine it,’ he said. ‘Can’t imagine being trapped here, while neighbours wait for us to kill again. Don’t like being hated either. Not my decision luckily.’
‘Not at all?’
Dusty grinned. It was a weary grin, and a sad one, but still a grin. ‘Suits me, being uncle. Rusty and Eleanor work. I get to play and nap.’
He shut his eyes. I thought I heard a doggy snore as I crossed the room.
Chapter 27
How is Florrie Anderson?’ asked Eleanor. The narrow eyes sat in dark shadows, as though the morning’s Virtual meetings had been the last straw before exhaustion. But she was in control again now. The lights were on again, but some of the feeling of friendship, kinship, remained.
‘Better than last night. Her son is with her.’
‘Ah, the beautiful Alan. We should have warned you.’
I smiled reluctantly. ‘He is so very beautiful, isn’t he?’
‘I’ve never seen him close up,’ said Eleanor. ‘Just gliding in the distance. I must say that looked very nice. He was away when we had the last gathering up here…’
‘…and you don’t go to the others.’
‘Exactly.’ For a moment her tone was just like Michael’s. ‘But Jen told me all about him. Said he was enough to make you come on heat weeks early. He was in her NetSchool group.’ Her face clouded. ‘Did Dusty tell you?’
‘About the NetSchool. Yes. I’m sorry.’
‘I’ll find another, further away. Distance doesn’t really matter with NetSchool. I suppose even one in Iceland would do.’ I could hear her effort to keep the tone light. ‘Talking of young men, one called you about half an hour ago. He said his name was Neil.’
‘Oh, hell,’ I said. ‘He won’t know where I am.’
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. ‘He must, darling, or he wouldn’t have rung here.’
‘Theo must have told him. Look Eleanor, would you mind calling him for me?’
The eyebrows stayed raised. ‘For you?’
‘Yes,’ I felt my cheeks growing hot. ‘When I left the City—when they forced me out—a plate was inserted in my head. I can’t transmit or receive mental transmissions any more.’
‘I see. I didn’t realise. I saw you use the floater and of course I assumed…’
‘It’s a manual one.’
‘I didn’t know they still made them. Did Michael arrange to have one adapted for you?’
The heat in my cheeks grew more insistent. I hadn’t considered the possibility before. ‘Maybe,’ I said.
‘Ah.’
‘Ah, nothing. All right, we were lovers once. But I’m the last person Michael would want to have anything to do with now.’
‘Are you sure?’ Eleanor smiled. ‘We’re good friends, Michael and I, even if we have never met in RealLife.’
‘You mean he’s spoken of me?’
‘I mean he has never spoken of anyone else. As far as I know Michael has been celibate since you left the City. While I gather from this Neil’s call that you have not?’
‘No. Neil and I…’ I stopped. After all it was none of her business. ‘It’s none of your business,’ I said.
She laughed at that. ‘You mean you can find out all about us, but we are supposed to remain discreetly uninterested in your sex life?’
‘Well…’ Put like that of course, it sounded…arrogant, that was the word. As though I assumed I was superior to someone who was part wolf.
Her narrow brown eyes still sparkled. ‘Do you still wish me to make that call for you?’
‘Yes, please’ I said.
‘And leave you to discreetly tell him…what are you going to tell him?’
I wondered too. Hi Neil, I’m here among the werewolves, there’ve been three murders and we’re just waiting for the vigilantes to attack the Tree. How is your conference?
Eleanor bent over the Terminal. At this angle her pregnancy was obvious—the bulge and the slightly splayed stance that women get, Truenorm or werewolf. The screen came alive with Neil’s default mode, not a row of apple trees any more, I noticed to my surprise, but a Realtime holo of both of us in the garden. He must have arranged a monitor one day without my knowing.
‘Call me if you need me,’ said Eleanor. She heaved herself to her feet (definitely less elegant than the day before) and left the room.
I waited, watching the two of us laugh about something—a snail on a rose bush, I seemed to remember—on the screen. There was no default message set, so presumably Neil was free to take the call. Suddenly the garden faded. Neil’s face gazed at me, looking strained and tired.
‘Neil! Is something wrong?’
‘You tell me,’ said Neil.
‘I don’t understand.’
Neil looked at me expressionlessly. ‘I called the ‘topia to speak with you. Theo told me you weren’t there. That you’d gone off chasing,’ he shrugged, ‘werewolves or something, with Michael.’
‘It’s not like that,’ I said. ‘Well it is, but…’
‘You didn’t think to tell me?’ demanded Neil.
‘I didn’t think it was important.’
‘Not important! You’re off chasing werewolves…’
‘I’m not chasing them. They’re not werewolves either. They’ve been accused of something…’
‘What? Ripping people’s throats out?’
‘Well, yes, but…’
‘And you didn’t think I needed to know?’
‘I…I just didn’t think of it,’ I said, realising that it sounded worse, not better. ‘I’m not used to this, Neil. I mean before I met you I didn’t have anyone to tell things too. And before that…’
‘Before that you didn’t need to tell Michael and your precious Forest anything. Because they’d already know,’ said Neil bitterly.
‘Yes,’ I said.
We gazed at each other for a moment. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘That’s all I can say. I’m sorry. I just didn’t think. I should have told you. I should have got Theo to call you for me. Or Ophelia or Yorick…’
‘Or Michael,’ said Neil abruptly.
‘Michael isn’t here.’ Suddenly his words registered. ‘You don’t really think I’ve gone off somewhere with Michael do you?’
Neil hesitated. ‘Theo said he’d rung, that he wanted you to help with some project of his involving werewolves. And that you’d gone.’
‘I didn’t go because Michael asked me to. I said no. Definitely no. I wouldn’t help Michael if—well, I just wouldn’t help him, that’s all. But then Ophelia rang. The werewolves are friends of hers, neighbours. Except they’re not really werewolves, there’s just some wolf back in their ancestry.’
‘And Michael isn’t with you?’
‘Of course Michael isn’t with me! He’d never leave the City anyway. And even if he did I…Neil, I wouldn’t…’
‘Maybe I should say sorry too,’ said Neil. Suddenly he looked even more tired than before.
‘I wish you were
here,’ I said honestly. ‘I miss you.’
‘I miss you too.’
‘How is the conference?’
‘Good. Exciting. The workshops especially. We’ve managed to…well, I won’t explain that now. When I get home. When you get home…’ Suddenly the threat of werewolves seemed to strike him, now the so-called threat from Michael was gone. ‘Danny, how dangerous is it, what you’re doing?’
I hesitated. ‘I don’t know,’ I said frankly. ‘There have been three murders so far. The last one was last night.’
‘Last night!’
‘I don’t think I’m in that sort of danger, though. There’s something I can’t put my finger on. Something about the three victims. All male, two unpleasant to say the least; and even the one last night could be seen as a mercy killing.’
‘Do you think one of the werewolves did it?’
‘No. I don’t think they did any of them. It just seems too…too convenient. The whole thing is too dramatic…yes, that’s it. It’s as though the stage has been set for an obvious werewolf killing, torn throats, blood on the doorstep, wolves in the night…’
‘Danny, I don’t like this,’ said Neil.
‘Neither do I,’ I said tiredly. ‘I tried to tell Ophelia and Michael that I’m an amateur at this. But they said…well, I’m the best they’ve got.’
‘You’re the best I’ve got too,’ said Neil roughly. ‘Danny, give me the coordinates. I’m coming out there.’
‘No. Not yet. The conference is only on for another two days, isn’t it? I’m in no danger. Really.’ Strangely, I found I meant it. I thought of the clan around me as protection, not a threat.
Neil pushed his hair out of his eyes. It was such a Neil gesture that I wanted to reach into the screen and touch him too. ‘Hasn’t it occurred to you that you could be in more danger than anyone? That Michael called you in on this to get you conveniently out of the way?’
‘What?…but he wouldn’t…’ I faltered.
‘Wouldn’t he?’ He betrayed the rest of you. Why should he worry about getting rid of the last reminder of his past?’