Under the Burning Clouds

by Steve Turnbull

  She headed over. Her clothes were still damp and she was aware the material clung to her skin in a fashion that emphasised her contours.

  He made no comment, but as she came into the light his gaze was glued to her upper body. She sighed—his payment would be even greater then.

  There were three files stacked on the table. Two of them were thin, while the third was two inches deep. She would not have time to absorb it all now; she must employ the trick of simply looking at the pages and ‘reading’ them later.

  “I will have to concentrate, Mr Penn,” she said as she seated herself. “If you would be so kind as to keep still and quiet that will help.”

  “You’re going to read it all?” he asked. “That will take hours.”

  “I won’t be too long,” she said. “If you could move the light closer I will begin.”

  He slid the slightly smoking lamp closer. She removed the first folder from the pile and opened it. Then she simply turned over each of the handwritten reports and filled-in forms, looking at each one. She did not hurry but endeavoured not to notice any distracting detail.

  This was how she had absorbed so many volumes on such diverse subjects over the years, though she shivered when she remembered the bookshop owner.

  Focus.

  She finished the first folder and changed it for the second.

  “I thought you were going to read them,” he said in a tone of annoyance.

  “This is how I do it,” she said. It would have been easier to lie and say she was looking for something specific, but she did not like to lie.

  She finished off the second folder in as little time as the first and moved on to the third. She opened it and stared long and hard at the first page. It was written in Valentine’s untidy hand. This was his report and analysis of Timmons’ trading empire, the one that showed there was something odd about the fleet and its connections. She ran her finger lightly across the page, as if touching the letters he had written would somehow connect her with him.

  “Found something interesting?” asked Penn.

  She shook her head and forced herself to turn the page. It took her a few more pages to return to the previous rhythm and a good ten minutes to work her way through the whole report. It would take her hours to read it thoroughly. It was not that his conclusions were incorrect, but she was sure there would be more useful information buried within.

  She turned the heavy folder back and re-tied the ribbons that held it, thinking that he had probably been the last person to tie the knots. Finally she placed the three folders together in a pile and neatened them up.

  “Thank you, Mr Penn,” she said.

  “You owe me a kiss,” he said, his voice a little hoarse.

  She put a smile on her face. “Of course, I am a woman of my word.”

  Pushing back the chair, she stood up and moved around the table. Penn was considerably taller, as well as significantly overweight. He would easily make four or five of her, she thought.

  The light from the gas lamp turned him into a planet with a light and a dark side, the mountains of his suit creases and edges casting long shadows. She was acutely aware that the same effect was occurring across her body.

  She knew she had made the wrong decision when his hand enclosed her upper arm in a painful grip. But there was still a part of her that insisted on carrying through her promise even though he intended harm to her. She did not protest.

  His other hand wrapped around her other arm and he pulled her towards him. With the violence of barely reined-in lust, he leaned down and crushed his lips against hers so hard their teeth ground the flesh of their mouths together.

  Her part of the bargain was fulfilled.

  He released her right arm and grabbed at her breast. His fingers dug into her tender flesh.

  “This was not our bargain,” she said, trying to prevent the pain from being reflected in her voice.

  “I love you,” he said. “I want you.”

  She could try to reason with him, but she knew there was little left in his mind to reason with.

  Twisting slightly, she slammed her knee as hard as she could into his groin. He spasmed, driving more pain into her arm and breast. But then his grip loosened.

  In the dim light she could see the excruciating agony spreading through him, almost too much for his nerves to comprehend. She pushed him away and he fell back, nearly missing the chair and landing on its arm instead, then tumbling sideways.

  “Thank you for the information, Mr Penn. I am sorry you were unable to resist your baser instincts.”

  He groaned in agony. She forced herself to breathe normally, but her blood ran hot in her veins and her heart threatened to pound its way through her ribs.

  She made her way from the room, closed the door on him and ran.

  Chapter 2

  i

  Izak and Lilith were still in the room when she returned. They looked up in alarm as she dashed inside.

  “We must go,” she said. “Quickly.”

  Penn might not raise the alarm once he had regained some control, but she could not rely on it. She threw off her dressing gown and hurried into the dressing room, pulling off her night clothes.

  The clothes she had had Amita make for her were designed so that she could put them on without requiring a maid. It took less than three minutes for her to return fully dressed and pinning her black hat to her hair.

  “Let’s go,” said Izak as he headed for the window.

  “I cannot go that way,” said Maliha. “We must go through the house.”

  “We may be caught.”

  “It will be quicker.”

  She went directly to the open door, where she paused and listened. The house remained quiet. She turned left immediately and opened the door to the servants’ passages. She tried not to think of the moat—she had no desire to get wet again, but there seemed to be little option. The bridge was not going to be available for their use.

  She heard one of the children close the door behind them. Dim lights shone along a short passage to the stairs. These routes had no external lighting, so the electric lights were kept burning at all times.

  They headed down the circular staircase; her shoes clicked, while Izak and Lilith’s bare feet barely made a sound as they descended the wooden steps. They passed the next floor.

  It was then they heard shouting. Distant at first but growing. Maliha paused.

  “Should have gone out the window,” muttered Izak.

  Marching but muffled feet moved through the carpeted corridors beyond the walls. They might have some leeway—Maliha was aware that those used to being out in the main corridors of a house failed to think of the servants’ passages, just as they failed to consider the servants at all.

  She moved forward and continued down. They reached the ground floor. The stairs continued into the cellars. Maliha hesitated. The cellars might provide an excellent way past the guards, but she did not recall seeing an exit.

  Where they were now was close to the ballroom. She turned to the right and headed towards it. As she had expected, there was a servant’s passage that ran the length of the hall. They hurried along it.

  On the other side of the wall she could hear a squad of soldiers searching. They were moving pieces of furniture to ensure she was not secreted behind them. They spoke in low tones which were hard to make out through the wall, however she was certain they were not English. Punjabi, perhaps.

  Maliha and the children came to a door; it lacked the ornamentation that marked those in the public parts of the house. She listened but could make out no sound beyond it. She pushed it open—it was a kitchen. There were several tables with cutting blocks, as well as a fireplace with metal warming shelves near to it.

  Across on the other side of the room a door led out into the grounds, and artificial light gleamed on the glass from the outside. The three of them made their way across. Maliha peered out through the glass. She knew exactly where they were in relation to the rest
of the building: the bridge was on the far side, the moat was not far from the house at this point, and the trees on the other side grew close to the water.

  If there was a good place to cross, that was it.

  The door was bolted top and bottom but had no keyhole. She reached up on tiptoe and slid back the upper bolt. Izak knelt down and wiggled the lower one to make it move.

  “Stop.”

  The man’s voice came from behind.

  Maliha felt her blood run cold. She could not remain here, there was so much that had to be done. There was a man to bring to justice. If they caught her now, they would never let her go.

  She put her hand on the doorknob.

  There was the click of a well-oiled gun being cocked.

  “Please release the handle. I do not wish to shoot you.”

  Maliha turned but did not let go. The door was unlatched. If she pulled it, it would open. Izak remained by her feet. Lilith was on the other side of her and might not be visible.

  The soldier was Sikh, but his uniform was British. She could see other turbaned heads behind him.

  “Release the handle, miss.”

  “I cannot stay.”

  “And I cannot let you leave.”

  “Then you must shoot me.”

  “No!” shouted Lilith. She jumped out and stood as if her body could be a shield, even though she barely reached Maliha’s waist. “You cannot shoot the goddess.”

  Izak chose this moment to emerge as well. He too placed himself between the gun and Maliha.

  Maliha released the door handle, but not before she had given it a slight tug. She stepped to the side to allow it to open and also to get the children out of the immediate line of fire. The soldier turned the gun away.

  Maliha felt the cool breeze on her neck and cheek as the door swung open.

  “Foolish children. Out with you, outside now.” She shooed them through the door but made no move to head that way herself. They went reluctantly and stood just outside.

  “Goddess?”

  “They are children,” said Maliha.

  “Durga Maa,” called Lilith.

  “Hush, Lilith. They’re Sikh not Hindu.”

  “You are Maliha Anderson?”

  The Sergeant took a step forward into the room. Two of his men came forward as well and the others crowded behind, peering over shoulders and between heads.

  He holstered his weapon. “You drove away the ones killing the children.”

  Maliha frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “We all saw it, last night,” he said. “The ship from which you fell. We thought we were under attack, so we activated the moat Faraday when the ship appeared from the north. Then you fell from it.”

  “I was pushed,” Maliha corrected.

  “Then the reports came in today of the old diamond mine.”

  “That was where the slavers were based.”

  He nodded. “You drove them away.”

  Maliha nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  It certainly wasn’t Valentine who had made them leave. She had made it impossible for them to continue their experiments. And completely misjudged it, so many natives had died because she had not realised the scope of their activities.

  She brushed away a tear. At least Izak had only been slightly hurt. That would have made her as bad as the scientists who thought nothing of killing babies in pursuit of their answers.

  “Go.”

  She stared at him.

  “Go now,” he repeated. “We have not seen you.”

  His men went back into the ballroom. He bowed and closed the door behind him.

  Maliha did not hesitate. “Stay behind me,” she said to the children.

  She ran.

  ii

  Using her perfect memory of the paths and the positions of the soldiers’ outposts she had studied earlier, she headed towards the moat. She kept under the cover of the trees and behind the larger bushes.

  They got further than she expected before the hue and cry was raised.

  She abandoned all attempt at secrecy and took the most direct path towards the moat. The cries to stop became background noise and the order must have gone out not to shoot because no one was taking pot-shots at them. To the left and right soldiers were heading in their direction, running to intersect.

  She could hear the panting breaths of the children behind her and was satisfied they were keeping pace. Izak’s injury could not be serious. They were probably more accustomed to running than she was. She also noted with a certain satisfaction that her attire allowed her to run, which had been a consideration in its design.

  Until a few moments before, she had hoped to get across the moat without drawing any attention. That had been a long shot and the swim across the moat would have been difficult; it was at least twenty feet from one side to the other.

  But her plans had changed as soon as the alarm was given. In some ways she was glad that Penn had been unable to keep his mouth shut. Perhaps glad, too, that he had been unable to keep his hands off her so that she had had a reason to abuse him.

  The alarm was important.

  They rushed out onto the open grassy area that ran down to the edge of the moat, along with the bump that paralleled the shoreline on both sides. There were three soldiers coming in from the left and two from the right, running pell-mell along the moat-side path.

  She allowed herself a smile. She and the children were running directly at the moat. But the water—black under the electric lights that shone from the eaves of the building lighting up the entirety of the gardens—was no longer moving normally.

  The little ripples that should move across its surface were gone, replaced by low waves that rolled sluggishly along its length and across its width. These combined and grew to a foot in height before falling back.

  Water under the influence of a powerful Faraday field.

  “Take my hands,” she called and splayed out her arms. Two small hands grabbed hers and she clasped them tightly. “Get ready to jump, hard!”

  In the distance, she heard someone shouting to cut the Faraday. Someone clever had divined her purpose. She smiled even more.

  They reached the bump in the ground and Maliha jumped onto it, feeling her skin prickle as they entered the edge of the field.

  “Jump!”

  With all the strength she could muster, she launched herself, pulling Izak and Lilith as hard as she could. They sailed into the air and soared across the moat. She estimated they reached a height of at least twelve feet. The Faraday might reduce their weight, but they were already travelling fast and it did not reduce their speed.

  She realised they would overshoot the Faraday on the other side. “Hard landing!” she shouted again as they passed the opposite shore at a height of three feet and the bump on the far side at two feet. Normal gravity reasserted itself and pulled them to earth with a heavy thud. Still holding the children, Maliha lost her balance and stumbled onto the ground.

  There was a series of splashes. Maliha clambered to her feet. There was no time to look, but she knew precisely what had happened. The men coming from the left and right had also jumped, but they had been running along the moat and their angle was too shallow. There was no chance they could cross, so they were guaranteed to end up in the water.

  The order to kill the Faraday was bound to take time to reach the ears of the person who controlled it, and they would take even more time to react. They must have switched it off after Maliha had reached the other side, just in time for the soldiers to hit the water in its normal state.

  Maliha ran for the trees, Izak and Lilith ahead of her. The lights from the house made shadows between the trunks that seemed to shift and move. They were not safe yet since they were still on consulate property.

  A shadow moved out from a tree in front of her. “This way, Goddess,” said a man’s voice. He moved off into the trees at an angle to her original route. Izak had Lilith’s hand now and pulled her after him. Maliha followed.
r />   More and more shadows moved among the trees.

  There was gunfire behind her, but it was getting further away. She kept stumbling on roots she could not see. Someone came up beside her and put a strong arm around her waist. It pulled her back up to a walk.

  There was a fence with a hole in it and they climbed through. They walked a while longer. Apart from the man beside her and one who walked with the children, Maliha could see several more spread out, keeping a watchful eye on the surroundings.

  Twenty minutes later they reached the outskirts of a residential area. The houses were dark and silent. They moved through the streets in silence. Finally they turned into a cul-de-sac and Maliha was hustled up an overgrown path into a brick-built house at the end.

  The building was small and of simple design with two rooms on each floor. The man with her knocked. The sound was surprisingly loud. The door opened moments later and the light from oil lamps filtered out into the night, making a silhouette of a woman, who gestured for them to enter. The man gave Maliha a gentle nudge on her arm and she went in alone.

  The possibility that they were in danger did not cross her mind; Lilith would have been very vocal if she thought there was any danger.

  The interior had not been decorated recently. The walls and wood were scrubbed clean, but the white of the paint had been rubbed through in places, showing a dull grey sheen beneath. The floor was linoleum with the occasional threadbare rug.

  The short passage inside had a door to the right leading into the main room, but it was closed. Directly ahead a flight of stairs led to the next floor.

  “Use the bedroom at the front,” said the girl in a strong native accent tainted with South African. Maliha recognised her as Nkechi who attended Mama Kosi. Did this place belong to either of them?

  Maliha nodded. Izak and Lilith were behind her and she stood back to let them through. She gave Izak a gentle push as he brushed past and ran her hand across Lilith’s hair, then she plodded heavily up the stairs after them. Having arrived, she felt a wave of exhaustion go through her.