She drew to a halt and wondered if it was too late to back track, but they’d already been seen.
“Veraart.” Argent’s voice was cold with displeasure.
Elke was uncomfortably aware how odd her companions must look—Noor, radiating desperation and Kiran with her algae-stained face and overalls. “Her-eid,” she said, and with a polite nod at Jinan Meer, “Frau-eid Meer.”
“What are you doing here?” Argent glanced nervously down the corridor behind Elke.
He’s checking to see if Meisje’s around. Elke tried not to smile at Argent’s evident relief as he realised that the gardag wasn’t there. He’d always been afraid of Meisje, a fact that she found obscurely irritating.
Jinan laid a hand on Argent’s arm. “We should let Constable Veraart get on with her business.” Jinan cast an ironic look at Elke. “I’m sure she has some reason to be wandering around Gardens so close to the curfew.”
Elke felt herself flush.
Without another word Elke, Noor and Kiran squeezed past and carried on down the corridor. When Elke glanced back, Jinan Meer still stood, arms crossed, watching them.
“What’s their problem?” Kiran said under her breath as they hurried on.
“No idea.” Elke didn’t relax until the corridor turned and they were out of Jinan’s sight.
They came to the curving walkway that ran along the outer edge of Gardens level. There were more people here, and the scuffling beat of music playing somewhere close by.
“Well, here we are,” said Kiran.
The Void had once been an elegant place. Now the graceful lines of the entrance were obscured behind layers of posters and adverts. Elke was surprised at the size of the crowd lining up to go inside. Since the quarantine, clubs and restaurants had been closing early but this place seemed to be doing better business than ever.
Then again, the atmosphere was not particularly festive. Music pulsed, but there were no sounds of dancing or laughter.
Elke considered the crowd thoughtfully, calculating the best way to deal with their presence, if they were still here after curfew. Maybe she should turn a blind eye. Trying to enforce the curfew here might trigger all kinds of trouble. Maybe she should post one or two peacekeepers, just to keep an eye on things.
The interior of the club was dark, the only light a string of colls draped across the bar, glinting off the bottles and the sticky-looking counter top. A band played on the cramped stage, three strangeside musicians pumping out a susurrating drone that didn’t need to be loud to get under the skin.
“What now?” Noor looked around, wide-eyed.
Kiran squeezed Noor’s shoulder, and threw Elke a glance. “You just stay right here.
Kiran made her way towards the bar, insinuating herself expertly between the people already crowding there.
Elke wished that she could think of a way to get Noor to relax. The girl was so tense she was attracting curious glances. The whole situation was starting to feel like a bad idea, and Elke suddenly wondered how she’d let herself be talked into it. She should have found out more about this so-called contact, or at least chosen a more sensible place to meet.
Over at the bar, Kiran caught the barman’s eye and leaned on the counter to talk right into his ear.
“Back there,” Kiran said when she joined them again, and led them along to a door just beyond the stage. One of the musicians, a slender girl who wore little except for her tattoos, slid them a sidelong look as they edged past. Just as they were past she pounded her padded mallet into an enormous gong, producing a note so loud and low it was nearly silent, although Elke could feel her bones vibrating with it.
Kiran opened the door to reveal a storeroom, shelves full of beer, the floor crowded with half-empty crates. It was unoccupied. No sign of anybody waiting for them.
They stepped inside, Elke last, one hand still on the open door.
Maybe this will all come to nothing. Noor would be disappointed, but Elke found herself breathing a bit more easily. It had been a mistake to allow the others to rush her into this decision. If she hadn’t been so distracted worrying about the quarantine, she would never have agreed to meeting anyone like this. Everything about the situation had her nerves on edge.
It’s just because I don’t have Meisje with me.
Still, she’d learnt to trust her instincts. She made up her mind.
“Kiran, I don’t like this. Let’s wait at the bar.” Elke turned to push the door wide again, but it resisted. Before she could react, the door was pulled out of her grasp to reveal Jinan Meer, her smooth hair a little mussed, patches of colour on her cheeks.
“Veraart,” she snapped. “I don’t know what you think you’re—”
Jinan’s eyes widened and she stumbled forward. The door slammed and the light went off.
Elke’s hand went to her boot, reaching for the knife that wasn’t there as a muffling weight wrapped her face and shoulders. She tried to buck, to slam her head back into her assailant’s face but her arms were already pinioned to her sides and something damp covered her mouth, smothering her.
Fumes stung her eyes and burned up her nose. The sweet stench dragged her down into the dark.
Hiding
Isabeau knew something was wrong as soon as she woke.
It was morning and she was still in the clothes she’d worn last night. She must have fallen asleep, waiting for Noor to come back from the meeting.
Meisje was pacing the length of the cubby, pausing at the door to sniff and whine.
Isabeau sat up. She’d slept the whole night through without knowing what had happened at the meeting. Had they found out something about her mother—or about the slavers?
By the sounds outside, it was long past the time they usually got up. Why had Noor let her sleep so late? And what was wrong with Meisje?
The white gardag looked at Isabeau and placed a paw on the cubby door.
“Need to go pee?”
Meisje signalled an emphatic negative and pawed at the door again.
“Okay. I’ll open it for you.” Isabeau slid the bolt, and Meisje nearly pushed the door out of her hand, leaping down to the foot of the ladder and pausing there, sniffing the air.
“What’s wrong with her?” Isabeau asked Danger, who was watching from his spot on her bed. Leaning out, Isabeau looked at the cubby next door. She frowned. The door was closed and locked, with the padlock was on the outside. Nobody home.
Noor never came back last night. They never came back.
After looking around to make sure that Noor and the others weren’t anywhere in sight, Isabeau edged along the narrow balcony that joined the cubbies and knocked at Noor’s door, although she knew that there would be no response. The window was shuttered and she had to press her face up against the slats to peer inside.
Nothing.
They must have left already, that’s all. They came back really late, and now they’ve gone off somewhere.
An insistent “whuff” from Danger made Isabeau remember her responsibilities.
“Okay, okay.” She retreated to the cubby and pulled on her jacket. “Meisje might not need a pee, but you certainly do. Let’s go.”
Meisje was already at the end of the roost. She swung round when she heard Isabeau descending the ladder.
“Come, girl, let’s go.”
The white gardag hesitated, glancing over her shoulder, then at Isabeau again.
She knows something’s wrong. Isabeau slapped her leg. “Come, girl. First things first. Let’s go to the compost heaps. We can find the others when you guys have done your business.”
She set off down to Works level with the two gardags by her side. She would take the gardags to relieve themselves in the compost heaps, and by the time she returned, Noor would be back, wanting to know where she’d been. Deciding what to do made her feel better.
Everything will be fine. After all, it’s not like I’m alone. Isabeau took the stairs two at a time, enjoying the surprised glances from
passers-by. Not often they saw a girl with two gardags!
Works level seemed to have regained its equilibrium. The leaking pipe had been fixed and the pool of liquid had been mopped up. The walls were vibrating with the humming of extractor fans and the thumping beat of pumps.
When they reached the compost heap, they weren’t the only ones there. Workers were stirring the compost with forked poles. They stood respectfully back as the two gardags sniffed around and found their spots, Meisje private in a shadowed back corner, and Danger lifting his leg as high as he could against a wall.
A hollowness in Isabeau’s stomach reminded her that she’d missed breakfast.
“We’ll go to the cafeteria,” she told the gardags as they headed back up the stairs. “I bet Noor and the rest are there already.”
The thought pleased her so much she didn’t lose the warmth of it even when it proved unfounded.
The cafeteria was nearly empty, with just a few people enjoying a late breakfast. Isabeau could see at a glance that neither her sister nor her friends were at any of the tables.
She resignedly picked up a tray. Noor might not be at the cafeteria yet, but she would come soon enough, especially if she went to the cubby and found that Isabeau was gone. Isabeau could picture the scene quite clearly—Noor, anxious and cross at the cafeteria entrance, and how she’d relax when she saw that Isabeau was safe.
This confidence took Isabeau all the way through her meal, although it took an effort to ignore the way Meisje kept scanning the crowd and that she ignored the food Isabeau offered her. It was only when Isabeau finished the last crumb of bisc without any sign of Noor, Elke, or anyone else, that she allowed herself to acknowledge the chill trickle of unease pooling in her stomach.
Something’s gone wrong. Isabeau shook away the thought, piled her dirty dishes on the tray, and shoved it through the hatch where soapy hands grabbed it and pulled it out of her grasp with a grunted thanks.
She made her way back to the cubby, walking slowly to give things time to be the way she wanted them to be.
The door will be standing wide open, and Noor will be there, all irritated that I didn’t wait for them.
When she reached their roost, nothing had changed. The cubby doors were closed, and she could see no sign that Noor or anybody else had been there.
Meisje nudged her and Isabeau looked into the gardag’s intent stare.
“You’re trying to tell me something, aren’t you.” Not for the first time, Isabeau regretted her inability to read the gardag’s signals beyond the basic few Elke had taught her.
“Can you smell if Noor’s been here?” she asked. “Noor, or Elke, or Kiran?”
Meisje blinked, hesitated, signalled yes, then yawned, glancing away and licking her lips nervously.
Isabeau looked thoughtfully at the gardag. That’s not what she wanted me to ask. “You can smell them, but it’s old smells, is that it?”
Meisje’s yes was more confident this time.
“Oh.” Isabeau considered for a moment. “Can you find where they went? Last night, I mean?”
Hope returned as Meisje’s ears came up in a definite yes. The gardag’s tail lifted into a high curve, and her body seemed to vibrate with eagerness to be off.
“Is that what you wanted me to say? To tell you to look for Elke and the rest?”
“Yes.” Meisje’s eyes were intent upon hers.
Isabeau hesitated. She could go with Meisje, follow her as she tracked the scent, but that would slow Meisje down and make the search much less efficient. Besides, the others might return to the cubby while she was gone.
Noor would want her to wait by the cubby. It was the sensible thing to do.
“Okay then. Could you do that, Meisje? Go look for Elke? Then come back here again as quickly as you can.”
Meisje tensed as though she were about to dash off, then hesitated and whined in frustration and sat down again.
Isabeau frowned, then understood.
“You don’t want to go, because Elke told you to keep me safe? I’ll be safe without you, really. Look.” Isabeau patted Danger’s neck. “He’s here to look after me, isn’t he? And I promise I won’t go anywhere. I’m staying right here.” She stamped her foot for emphasis.
That seemed to do it. Meisje whirled and was off, racing for the stairs to the level above. Isabeau watched her go, feeling a little guilty.
“I should have let her go ages ago,” she told Danger. “She was itching to go look for Elke this whole time. I just didn’t think.”
Danger just looked at her, tongue lolling.
Isabeau stood at the foot of the ladder that led up to her cubby. After about half an hour the curious glances of passers-by made her so uneasy that she climbed up the ladder and perched halfway, where fewer people noticed her.
An hour passed. Isabeau thought about going to look for Meisje but didn’t quite dare leave her spot. After all, she had no idea where the gardag had gone. Maybe it had been a mistake to send her away by herself.
Isabeau considered going to the lazaretto, to try to see Ndlela, but that was no good. They wouldn’t let her into the main entrance of the lazaretto, and while she was still convinced she could find another way in, it was something that would have to wait till after dark.
Isabeau gave up and climbed all the way up to her cubby. She looked at her unmade bed, then decided to rather sit in the doorway. That way Danger could curl up behind her and the two of them could keep an eye out for returning friends.
At last, just when Isabeau was starting to lose hope, Meisje appeared in the gap between the roosts. But after the first relief at the sight of the white gardag, Isabeau’s heart sank. Meisje looked just as tense and worried as ever as she climbed up the ladder and brushed Isabeau’s hand with her nose.
“You didn’t find them, did you,” Isabeau said as Meisje squeezed past her into the cubby. “Where did you go?”
Meisje looked at her uncertainly.
“Sorry. You can’t answer that kind of question.” Isabeau scrunched up her face in irritation at herself, and tried to think of a question that could be answered with yes or no. Disappointment at Meisje’s lack of success fogged her mind and it was a moment before she came up with, “Did you find their trail?”
Meisje twitched her ears up to signal yes.
“To the place they went last night. For this meeting.”
Yes.
“But they are no longer there. You didn’t find them.”
Meisje ears folded down in a no.
Isabeau sat forward. “Do you know if they are—if they are okay? Did something happen to them?”
Meisje just looked at her.
“You don’t know.” Isabeau wrapped her arms about herself. “What should I do now? No, sorry, I’m not really asking you, Meisje.”
Isabeau was starting to feel scared. Everyone she knew was either sick or gone. What if somebody had made Elke, Kiran and Noor disappear? What if these people were looking for her as well?
She drew a determined breath. “We should go back to the cafeteria. Nobody will try anything there, in all that crowd.”
The cafeteria was one of her favourite places in the Babylon Eye. The viewports onto the Real and Strangeworld oceans were spectacular and so was Zero level, but the cafeteria had free food, as much as you wanted.
Isabeau loaded a tray for herself and the gardags and found a table right at the back, partly hidden behind a pillar, where she could safely sit and watch without being too noticeable.
Most of the lunch crowd were glims, and Isabeau tried to guess their occupation. Can-workers with their out-of-proportion shoulders and enormous hands. Nimble mech-assistants, small enough to fit inside an air duct, and the earnest glim-clerks. Messengers, more normally proportioned, but making up for that by shaping their hair into outrageous styles and sporting eye-catching facial modifications. High-caste strangers too, eidolon and geists. Secretaries, officials and musicians, some soberly dressed in practical, dark clo
thing, others wearing the latest in strangeside fashion. Isabeau saw one young man whose hair was teased up into something like a tree, in which several smaracht-birds perched, preening themselves.
She spotted the kewer, Alexander, making his way to a table holding a loaded tray. And surely those people with him must be mormels? They did look like enormous cats, with their fur-covered faces and sinuous bodies.
“Stay here,” she ordered the gardags.
Alexander looked up as Isabeau approached his table. He waved a hand as he typed. “Isabeau!” He bowed where he sat. “Happy to see you.”
“Hi!” said Isabeau. She felt suddenly shy under the mormels’ combined gaze. They weren’t much like cats, once you were close to them. Their ears were small and rounded, and their high cheekbones gave them the look of praying mantises, an impression enhanced by their glassy green eyes, blank orbs with no visible iris or pupil.
“This is Zio,” Alexander said, “And this is Zia. They are my friends. They, too, are helping in the lazaretto. Us non-humans, we don’t get this infection.”
“Oh. Really?” Do you know where Elke is? The words hovered on Isabeau’s lips but somehow, she couldn’t say them, not under the mormels’ unwavering gaze.
“You want to know about your brother.” Alexander’s fingers flew across the keys of his voice-box. “He is doing well. Fever is down, and he understands what is said to him now.”
“That’s excellent.” Isabeau made herself smile and found that she meant it.
“Elke told me you’re worried about Jinan Meer,” said Alexander. “I’ve been looking out for her, just in case, but she’s not been to the lazaretto at all. I think frau-eid Meer has changed her mind about helping. She was supposed to be working in the lazaretto this morning, but she never came.”
“Really?”
Alexander nodded ponderously. “Really.”
Isabeau stood for a moment, trying to think what else to say. She could ask Alexander for help, but what could he do? And the green-eyed gaze of the two mormels was making her self-conscious. “Well,” she said at last. “Thanks. See you.”
The Strange Page 14
