The Strange

by Masha du Toit

  “But you think that it is happening.” Noor’s voice was steady. “This is why you didn’t want Issy and Ndlela to hear this. You think my mother has been kidnapped and taken into the Strange as a slave.”

  “No,” said Elke, and held up a hand when Kiran moved impatiently. “What I mean is, no, we don’t know anything for sure, but this gives us a new place to start looking.”

  “And the missing records?” asked Noor.

  Kiran nodded. “It might be linked. If people have been kidnapped, it might give the slavers an advantage if it’s harder to figure out exactly who’s gone missing. Without the records...”

  “And so far, all the missing records were of short-term workers,” said Noor. “That would make sense, wouldn’t it? If they’re kidnapping people in the Eye, people like that are less likely to be missed, right?”

  The newly installed bell on the restaurant door chimed as the door swung open.

  “That’s true,” said Elke. “I think the next step is for me to go talk to the archive clerk.” She turned to see the source of the noise.

  Isabeau was pushing her way through the tables toward them, small body stiff with outrage. Ndlela followed, looking flustered.

  “What happened?” Noor was on her feet already.

  “Where’s MJ?” said Elke, just as Mack Jack appeared in the door.

  “Why’s she not in prison?” Isabeau glared at Elke.

  Ndlela edged past Isabeau, slid into a chair next to Noor and cradled his head in his arms.

  “What’s going on?” Noor asked him but he just spread his hands over the back of his head.

  “Hey.” Mack jack pushed the door wide, setting the bell chiming again. “Man.” He stood for a moment, getting his breath. “Ran into your mother, Diesel.”

  “We saw her at the viewport.” Isabeau grabbed a chair for herself and dragged it over to their table. “I thought she was in prison!” She turned to her sister. “Jinan Meer, Noor. She was there! Looking at us as though we were—” She glared at Elke. “Why is she not in prison?”

  “I’m sorry,” said Elke. “I meant to tell you.”

  “My mother is out on bail,” Diesel explained.

  “What does that even mean?” snapped Isabeau.

  “That means they don’t think it’s necessary to keep her in prison until the trial,” said Diesel. “Basically.”

  “Can somebody please tell me what happened?” demanded Noor.

  The doorbell chimed again. They all turned to see the new arrival, an eidolon, judging by his tattoos, and dressed neatly in dark, formal clothes.

  Elke suppressed a groan and sank back in her chair. She put a restraining hand on Meisje’s collar as the gardag rose to her feet.

  “I might have known you’d be behind this, Veraart,” the man said, eyes moving from person to person with thin-lipped disapproval.

  “Her-eid Argent,” said Diesel, “How can we help you?”

  Argent ignored Diesel. “I must insist—”

  “Can somebody,” said Noor steadily. “Please. Tell me. What happened.”

  “It’s cool, Noor, don’t worry,” said Mack Jack. “Nothing happened. Issy only wanted to talk—”

  “This young woman—” Argent pointed at Isabeau.

  “I didn’t do anything!” Isabeau folded her arms tightly.

  “Tell me,” said Noor with brittle patience, “what happened.”

  “Issy saw Jinan Meer at the viewport.” Ndlela spoke without raising his head from his arms. “She went to talk to her, but this man jumped out at us and tried to grab Issy. So Issy started shouting, and the man was shouting, and—” He sat up and looked tiredly at Argent.

  “I must insist,” said Argent to Elke, “That you restrain these—”

  “It was just a misunderstanding.” Mack Jack had his breath back now. “Issy was surprised to see Jinan, that’s all. She didn’t do anything.”

  Argent’s eyebrows climbed. “No? This child called my client a murderer in public! This is a transparent attempt to influence—”

  “But she is a murderer!” Isabeau said, outraged. “Or at least, she tried to—”

  “Issy.” Elke shot Isabeau a warning look. “We’ll talk about this, okay? Her-eid, I apologise. I should have foreseen this and prevented it.”

  Argent opened his mouth, then closed it, the wind taken out of his sails. He finally noticed Meisje, who was eyeing him speculatively. “Well. Yes.” He straightened his jacket. “From now on, keep them away from my client.”

  “Absolutely,” said Elke.

  “And did you get my message about the interview?” Argent’s tone was calmer, but he kept a careful eye on the gardag.

  “I must have missed that one,” said Elke. “I’ll check it as soon as I get back to the office.”

  Argent turned and left without another word. The bell chimed one final time as it swung shut behind him.

  “Oof.” Mack Jack looked around for a chair to sit in. “I didn’t realise how unfit I was. One flight of stairs and I’m out of breath.”

  Elke stroked Meisje, who was still staring at the door. “Can we pull some of these tables together? Then we can all fit in.”

  Mack Jack, Isabeau and Ndlela moved tables and chairs into place, and soon they were more comfortably arranged. To Elke’s relief, Mack Jack seemed intent on changing the subject.

  “The thing is,” he said to Ndlela, apparently picking up on an interrupted conversation. “The void’s not the same as what you call outer space.” He lowered himself onto one of the chairs, a spindly affair designed for looks rather than stability, and Mack Jack clearly wasn’t sure if he could trust his weight to it. “I mean, you blast off from the Real in a rocket-ship, there’s no way you could fly it to the Eye no matter how far you go. We’re in the void. Not in space.”

  “And the other Eyes?” asked Ndlela. “Bifrost and the others?”

  “Are they all in the same void, you mean?” said Mack Jack. “Good question. No idea. Is it possible to fly through the void, from Eye to Eye—”

  He stopped, distracted. The dexter music, playing through the tiny speakers set into the ceiling, had been replaced by a voice, speaking in a strangeside dialect. After the first few words, Diesel stiffened, and both Mack Jack and Kiran swore.

  “What?” Elke asked but Diesel held up her hand, still listening. After a few minutes, the voice came to the end of its message. It paused then started up again, and this time in a language Elke understood.

  “Attention all. This is Her-geist Malik on the behalf of the Babylon Eye Coalition. This is an urgent message. Please attend.

  “An invasive pathogen has been detected in the Eye. A number of our residents have contracted a disease of unknown origin. As of this moment, the Eye is under quarantine. All real- and strangeside trade is suspended. No trains are allowed to leave or enter the strangeside or the realside gates, except for official trains transporting essentials such as food, water, and medical supplies, and these will undergo rigorous sterilisation to prevent the further spread of the disease into or out of the Eye.

  “Except for these official trains, both the strange- and realside portals will remain shut for the duration of the quarantine. No persons will be allowed to enter or leave the Babylon Eye under any circumstances, until the quarantine is lifted. All communications to the Real or the Strange will happen through the Coalition office.

  “Any residents who experience the following symptoms must immediately report to the nearest medic: Fever. Irritation or redness of the eyes, which may be accompanied by a sensitivity to light. Coughing and sneezing. Excess saliva. Headaches.

  “Anyone who fails to report these symptoms will be in contravention to the Quarantine Conditions and will be open to severe sanction as is set out in the relevant section of the Babylon Eye Code.

  “We will be releasing more information as it becomes available to us. Please be ready to comply with any further directives. We rely on your cooperation during this challenging
time.”

  By the time the message ended, Elke and Meisje were on their feet. “Gotta go,” Elke said. “This is going to mean trouble.”

  Noor looked as though the breath had been knocked out of her, and both Isabeau and Ndlela were wide-eyed.

  “But—” said Noor. “What about—”

  “I really have to go.” Elke headed for the door. “You guys stay up here. There might be trouble. Diesel, Mack Jack, will you?”

  “Don’t worry,” said Diesel. “We’ll make sure they’re okay.”

  Quarantine

  Elke ran down the stairs to Zero level. She could feel the change in the air. The Eye was humming like a kicked beehive. Loud voices sounded from every level. Meisje felt it too—her hackles were up, and she looked from side to side as if expecting attack.

  Elke slowed down and touched her shoulder. “It’s okay, girl.”

  A train stood at the realside portal, half loaded, with knots of people arguing around it.

  “But these are perishables!” a man shouted into the face of a can-worker foreman. “If we don’t take this through today, I’ll lose the lot of them!” He took a step forward, jutting his chin.

  The gathered workers muttered angrily, and some moved their hands to the spanners and wrenches stuck in their belts.

  “Having a problem here?” Elke called out.

  The man caught sight of her and stopped in mid shout. He worked his jaw and said in a more measured tone, “Who can I talk to, to make this right?” He flapped a piece of paper at Elke. “I have all the paperwork right here! This load must go through on the next train out.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” said Elke. “The train schedule has been cancelled by the quarantine. You will need to find another solution for your problem.” The man’s face grew red, and he opened his mouth, clearly intending to shout again.

  “If you do not calm down,” Elke said quietly, “I’ll have to arrest you and drag you down to the cells. For your own safety.” She jerked a thumb at the workers, who stood watching. Several of them had drawn their spanners and were hefting them in a meditative way. “I guarantee you, you’d prefer that to what these guys might do to you if you keep shouting at them.”

  The man blinked at her, then looked around. “Oh. Uh. But—”

  “If you ask them nicely,” Elke said, “one of them can probably tell you where to find a refrigerator unit going cheap.”

  When Elke was sure that this particular fight had been defused, she was off again, threading her way through the crowd.

  There’s going to be a lot more of that going on. People are scared and angry. How long would it be before somebody lost control and triggered a riot?

  ¤¤¤

  “Do you believe it?” Isabeau stretched her sleeves over her hands, then let them snap back again. “What Noor said about Mom?”

  Ndlela was silent for a long moment. “I don’t know,” he said at last. “Slavers. It seems pretty crazy.”

  The two of them were sitting at the foot of their cubby’s roost. The adults wanted to have a meeting without them again, and this time no one could be spared to look after them. Elke and Meisje had not been back since they’d rushed off after the quarantine announcement, and Kiran wanted Mack Jack in the meeting.

  “They’ll be fine as long as they stay in sight,” Mack Jack had said.

  For a while Isabeau and Ndlela had wandered up and down the space between the roosts, but they’d soon grown bored with that, and slumped down in this spot, watching the occupants of the surrounding roosts hurrying back and forth.

  “What do you think they’re talking about in there?” Isabeau looked up at the cubby where Noor could be seen in the open door. Diesel, Kiran, and Mack Jack were out of sight inside. “Must be pretty crowded. What do they want to talk about, that we can’t hear it?”

  Ndlela gave an expressive shrug. “You know how it is. They don’t want to upset us.”

  Isabeau grumbled wordlessly to herself as she pulled at her sleeves, still staring at the cubby.

  After Elke left, Noor had told them about the slavers. Isabeau still didn’t know how to feel about it all. Her mother, kidnapped by strangeside slavers? It didn’t seem real.

  “They’re probably trying to figure out a way to get into the Strange,” said Ndlela. “If that’s where they think Mom is.”

  “You think? Is that even possible?” Isabeau pulled her sleeves over her hands again, wriggling her fingers to stretch out the cuffs.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I wonder what it’s like.”

  “The Strange?” Ndlela gazed at the roost opposite, eyes unfocused. “It’s hard to imagine. Although, we’ve seen some of the plants and things that come from there. Remember the Cathedral?”

  “That’s true! The pippets. They’re strangeside, aren’t they?” Isabeau remembered the silvery insects that inhabited the dunes of the Muara.

  “All those plants and beasties.” Ndlela’s expression was wistful. “But they’d never let us go. It will be Elke and Diesel, or something like that.”

  Isabeau was still drawing in her breath to vent her outrage at this idea when she saw Tomas and Danger approaching.

  “Hey,” said Tomas, drawing level with them, Danger loping at his heel.

  “Hey, Tomas. Hey there, Danger,” Isabeau held her hand out for the gardag to sniff, her grievances temporarily forgotten.

  “You guys here by yourselves?” Tomas looked around.

  “They’re having a meeting.” Ndlela tilted his head to indicate the cubby above them. “Adults only. And Noor.”

  “Ah.” Tomas sat next to Ndlela, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and Danger threw himself down on the ground by Isabeau. “Elke sent me to check if you guys are okay. She told me about your Mom and the—um—” He looked uncertainly from Isabeau to Ndlela.

  “It’s okay,” said Ndlela. “We know about the slavers.”

  “So that’s what they’re talking about now?” Tomas looked up at the cubby.

  “I sneaked up just now to listen at the door.” Isabeau drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. “They’re trying to figure out if the collectionistas could be in the Eye. Mack Jack said he knew somebody he could talk to but Diesel didn’t like that idea.” She snorted. “Diesel can be real snooty. Anyway, I must have made a noise because Mack Jack heard me and chased me away.” She glared discontentedly at the cubby.

  Tomas’s eyebrows rose as he saw her expression. “Hey.” He put a hand in his pocket, and withdrew a spherical object. “Check this out.”

  He held out a thing roughly the size of an apple that bristled with fins and protrusions.

  “What’s that?” Isabeau couldn’t suppress a note of reluctant interest.

  Ndlela stared with open curiosity. “Wow! Is that—”

  Tomas handed it to him. “It’s a model of the Eye. Sparks lent it to me. Isn’t it cool?”

  “That’s the Eye?” Isabeau stared, her bad mood forgotten. “Does it really look like that? I thought it was all smooth on the outside. Like a ball.” She touched the model with a tentative fingertip. “What’s all this stuff?”

  “Those house the carillons.” Tomas pointed at two concentric rings of petal-like fins. “They open the portals.” He took the model from Ndlela and turned it upside down. “Check this out. You see that thing?” He pointed at one of the many nubs and protrusions. “You know what that is?”

  Ndlela wrinkled his nose as he peered at the tiny thing. “It looks like a beetle.”

  “Let me see!” Isabeau leaned in closer. “Oh. I see it. What is it?”

  “It’s a little pod-ship. They mos use it to do external inspections. Look—” He pinched the little ship free of the sphere. “Check it out.” The tiny pod-ship lay in his palm, hardly bigger than a grain of rice.

  “Sparks says it’s not to scale, else it would be too small to see.” Tomas poked at the little model with a finger, rolling it over. “Cool, hey?”

&nb
sp; “Wow.” Isabeau watched as Tomas fitted the tiny thing back into place on the sphere. It made a satisfying click.

  “Hey.” Ndlela was looking closely at Tomas’s face. “Is that a— What do you call that?”

  “What, the diadem?” Tomas put the model of the Eye back in his pocket. “Look, I’ll show you.”

  “What’s that?” Isabeau gazed in astonishment as Tomas drew the translucent strip from his head.

  “I use it to mind-link with Danger.” Tomas held the diadem up to the light. “You know Elke’s got an implant, right? That’s how she can link with Meisje. I’m still a trainee, so I won’t get my implant till I graduate. But I can do some linking using this thing. Not as good as the implant, but it’s much better than nothing.”

  “Wow.” Ndlela stared. “I’ve heard about that. There’s some kind of—plant in there, or something? Connects with your brain?”

  “Fungus.” Tomas held the diadem out to Ndlela. “Want to try it?”

  “You serious?” Ndlela’s eyes sparkled.

  “Oh!” Isabeau gave a squeak of excitement. “Can I try too? Will I be able to link with Danger?”

  “Sure,” said Tomas. “Takes practice. It’s like focusing your eyes on something that’s too close.”

  Ndlela took the diadem, handling it gingerly as if he thought it might bite him, or break.

  “You’re not scared?” Isabeau stared in fascination. “That fungus could crawl right into your brain.”

  Ndlela’s serious expression relaxed into an involuntary smile. “Thanks, Isabeau. That makes me feel so much better.” But he seemed to gain in confidence, slipping the diadem around the back of his head and letting Tomas smooth the ends onto his temples.

  “Wait for it.” Tomas watched him narrowly. “Feel anything yet?”

  “No. Oh.” Ndlela’s hands went up, as if he’d lost his balance for a moment. “Hey. That’s— That’s weird.”

  “What’s it like?” Isabeau crouched, so intent on her brother that she was nearly breathing in his face. “Can it connect to any gardag?” she asked Tomas. “Or just Danger?”

  “Just Danger,” said Tomas. “His implant’s tuned to this one. Close your eyes,” he told Ndlela. “Relax. You’ll feel like you’re falling but that’s just your head messing with you. Knocks your balance a bit at first. You’re feeling where Danger is, and where you are at the same time. You get used to it.”