Danger watched mournfully as Isabeau broke the square of bisc in two and tossed a piece to each of the gardags. Danger snapped his out of the air, then looked at Isabeau expectantly.
“No more,” Isabeau said around her own mouthful of bisc, brushing crumbs off her front. “That’s it. Can’t you go catch a rat, or something?”
The big gardag gave her a hurt look and sniffed hopefully at the ground around his feet. Meisje went back to her position at the entrance and crouched there, on guard.
They were in a crawl space behind the dryers, next to the laundry room. The space was tall enough to stand up in, but so narrow Isabeau and the gardags had to squeeze past one another if they wanted to move about. Meisje had led them there the previous evening, showing Isabeau how to make her way along the inside of the shell-cavity, the hollow external wall of the Eye.
They’d pushed through thick layers of insulation, picked their way through tangles of pipes and wires, and climbed up narrow access ladders until they’d reached this hiding place behind the dryers.
Isabeau had reassured herself that while the place reeked of drying clothes and laundry soap, there was not even a whiff of disinfectant anywhere.
To her surprise, she’d slept soundly, snuggled up against Danger and surrounded by the throbbing drone of the dryers whose back panels made up one wall of the crawl space.
The thought of taking the gardags for their morning pee had worried her until she realised that Danger and Meisje had already dealt with the problem, taking turns to slip off by themselves. Meisje had showed Isabeau how to edge along the shell-cavity to a loose panel at the back of a nearby public toilet, so her own needs were soon taken care of.
Now, her belly full of the bits of bisc that she’d stuffed in her backpack in the cafeteria the previous day, Isabeau was ready to get moving. Hiding was all very well, but she needed to know what was going on.
“I can’t just stay here,” she told Meisje. “Noor and Elke might have come back and be looking for me.”
Meisje gave a low bark, got to her feet, and glanced at the entrance to their hiding place. She sniffed at the ground and looked at Isabeau intensely, as if she was trying to beam her thoughts directly into Isabeau’s brain.
“You want me to go out there? Back to the cubbies, see if anything’s changed?”
Meisje signalled an emphatic no, then trotted to the entrance, pausing to glance back. A nearly inaudible whine escaped her throat.
“Oh. You want to go. And I should stay here?”
“Whuf!” Meisje’s tail and ears came up in affirmation.
“Okay.” Isabeau wrinkled her nose in frustration. “I guess that is the safest, but I’ll go nuts if I have to stay here all the time.”
Danger lumbered to his feet, but Meisje barked sharply and glared at him until he reluctantly lay down next to Isabeau again. When Meisje was sure Danger would not follow her, she disappeared into the shell-cavity.
“She’s bossy, isn’t she,” said Isabeau.
Danger put his massive head down with a grunt then rolled a hopeful eye to check whether Isabeau might not, after all, produce another snack.
While she waited for Meisje to come back, Isabeau tidied the crawl space, shaking all the crumbs out of her blanket and packing her possessions into her bag. The working day had clearly begun, next door in the laundry room. Bangs and clatters came through the wall, accompanied by the muffled voices of the laundry workers.
Isabeau listened, trying to picture what was going on next door. The thumps and bumps must be somebody loading wet clothes into a machine, and the ratcheting clicks were dials, being turned to set temperature and time. It was all remarkably soothing and she nearly drifted off to sleep again by the time Meisje returned.
“Well?” asked Isabeau. “What did you find?”
The gardag just blinked at her.
Yes or no questions, Isabeau reminded herself and tried again. “Are they back?”
Meisje dropped her ears and blinked the negative response.
“You smelled anything new around the cubbies? Anyone who might be hunting us? Like—Jinan Meer, or Missy, or anyone else like that?”
Yes.
Isabeau stared at her. “You did?”
Yes.
“Somebody’s been there? Somebody we know?”
No.
“So— Not Jinan Meer, then?”
No.
“Did they—” Isabeau forced herself to be calm, to think straight. “Did they get into the cubbies? Break in?”
Yes.
“Did they take stuff?”
Meisje shook her head so that her ears flapped, then stared significantly at Isabeau. It was clearly a signal, but what did it mean? “Does that mean ‘I don’t know’?”
Yes.
“Oh.” Isabeau slumped against the wall, staring into space. So, she’d been right to go into hiding. Somebody was hunting her. Maybe she should just stay in here, where nobody would ever find her. Maybe the gardags could find food for her. She’d be safe, wouldn’t she?
She’d be hiding like a mouse waiting for the broom.
If she stayed here much longer, fear would paralyse her. She didn’t know anything about this enemy. What if could track her? What if they knew about this very hiding place?
I have to keep moving. Stay ahead of them. Hiding is just another way of waiting to be caught. And I have to see what they are doing. Find out who’s after me. Find out what happened to Noor and the others.
Meisje watched her, waiting for her decision.
“Are there other places we can hide, like this one?”
Meisje signalled yes.
“And you can show me how to move around without being seen?”
Another yes.
Isabeau hesitated. If only there was somebody she could ask for advice. Noor, Elke and Kiran were all gone, and she wasn’t sure if she could trust Dolly. Who else was there? Diesel and Tomas were both sick, but maybe...
“What about the lazaretto? Can you get in there, without the guards seeing?”
Yes.
“Oh, really?” Isabeau sat up. “That’s good. Can we go right now?”
Yes.
“Good.” Isabeau picked up her bag. “Let’s go, then.”
The Train
Elke kept finding her gaze returning to Kiran, who leaned against the train window, watching the landscape pass by.
Kiran had not said much since the journey started, but she’d not slept either. Her face was shuttered, and her eyes flickered with some internal debate.
Several hours had passed since they’d gone through the Gremium portal, and most of their companions were asleep. Other than the occasional desultory patrol, the guards kept to themselves.
Elke tried to find a more comfortable position on the hard seat and made herself look away from Kiran.
Is she angry with me? Does she blame me for this mess we’re in?
Kiran had a perfect right to blame her. It was her fault, after all. Going into that club, not even knowing who was waiting there for them there. And how on earth could she have allowed a girl as young as Noor to accompany them on such a risky meeting?
Noor leaned on Kiran’s shoulder, fast asleep, her head rolling a little with the motion of the train.
If something happens to her...but what can I do to prevent it?
“It’s not your fault, you know.” Kiran was looking at her. A slight smile touched her lips at Elke’s startled expression. “That’s what you were thinking, right?”
Elke looked away.
“Or if it was your fault, it’s just as much mine, or MJ’s.” Kiran moved her shoulder, settling Noor’s head a little more comfortably. “We should have checked things out a little more.”
“A bit late to realise that now,” said Jinan Meer without opening her eyes.
Kiran gave her an unfriendly look. “I thought you were asleep.”
“Why were you following us, Jinan?” asked Elke.
Jinan
took so long to answer that Elke thought she’d fallen asleep again, but then the woman opened her eyes. “Argent was sure you were up to something,” she said. “And the Void has a reputation as being a hangout for smugglers.”
“It does?” Elke frowned.
Jinan’s mouth twitched into a grim little smile. “Thought you had a finger on the pulse of everything that goes on in the Eye, Constable Veraart?”
She sat up, moving stiffly, and Elke remembered the beating she’d suffered at the hands of the guard.
“As you know,” Jinan said, “I have contacts in the world of alternative commerce.”
“Alternative commerce.” Kiran gave a snort. “So that’s what you call it. You mean smuggling.”
Jinan shot her a look. “Absolutely. Smuggling, and other things.”
“You knew about these slavers?” said Elke.
Jinan shook her head. “No. I’ve heard rumours, of course, but I had no reason to believe them.” She considered Elke, her face expressionless. “Who were you meeting?”
Elke glanced at Kiran, who shrugged. “I guess we might as well tell her,” Kiran said. ‘I mean”—and she tugged the chain tight on her manacle—“ we’re all in this together, right?”
“Hm.” Elke looked out the window. The train was rattling along faster than she would have thought possible. She pictured the locomotive-beast turning its crank, dragging the carriages along behind it.
They were passing over rolling stretches of yellow grass and pools that reflected the cloudy sky. The track was raised high above the plain and it cut dead-straight across the gentle rise and fall of the grassland.
“We were trying to find my mother.” Noor had lifted her head from Kiran’s shoulder. Her voice was blurred by sleep, but there was nothing soft or warm in the look she gave Jinan. “We think she was taken by the collectionistas.”
“Ah.” Jinan considered Noor. “And what led you there, to that club?”
Noor glanced at Elke, and seeing her nod, continued. “We were meeting a tin-jock called—” She frowned. “I forget his name.”
“Pawel,” said Kiran. “Pawel Pestcontrol.”
“Him.” Jinan nodded slowly, eyebrows up.
“You know him?” asked Noor.
“I do,” said Jinan. “He has a reputation for knowing the right people, if you want to move contraband through the Eye.”
“Which you’d know all about,” Noor said sharply. “Since you pay criminals to do your dirty work.”
Jinan inclined her head, accepting Noor’s judgement with an ironic smile.
“Do you know”—Noor’s chin came up as she spoke—“ that my little sister still has nightmares about those thugs you hired, and the things they did?”
“No.” Jinan’s smile was gone. “I didn’t know that.”
Noor turned away, and Kiran took her hand in hers, squeezing it.
Outside the window, the landscape was gradually changing. The horizon glinted a hazy silver, suggesting the possibility of sea. The sun filtered through high clouds, bathing the landscape in a pure, white light that made everything seem watery and cool, very unlike the warm yellow sunlight of the Real. Rain sifted down in fitful showers, streaking the dusty windows of the train.
So, this is the Strange. Elke looked out of the window. Or at least, one of the many Strange worlds
When they’d first emerged from the portal into this world, the train had crawled up a gently rising tunnel and surfaced in a harbour town built entirely out of something like bamboo.
The train had stopped once, and a great many people had boarded, but nobody had entered their carriage. After that single stop the train had gathered speed and they’d left the bamboo town behind them hours ago.
Since then Elke had seen nothing resembling a city, village, house, or any sign of human habitation, not even a foot path in the grass. The only signs of life were birds—if they were birds—hopping, flitting dots that flew in rising spirals here and there in the landscape.
Noor shifted in her seat and reached down to rub her ankle.
“You okay?” said Kiran.
“I’m fine.” Noor’s hair hung down, obscuring her face.
Jinan watched her. “Hmm,” she said. “What’s your name again?”
Noor didn’t respond.
“Your ankle is in pain.” Jinan waited, but once again, Noor ignored her. “They removed your brace, and you must have wrenched it, walking on it like that. Also, you’re not used to doing without the brace, and now you’re suffering the reaction.”
Kiran caught Elke’s eye, and Elke gave a tiny shrug. Jinan was irritating, but Noor seemed to be interested in what she had to say. She’d stopped rubbing her ankle and was watching Jinan warily through her hair.
“Have you tried stretching it?” asked Jinan, and when Noor did not respond, “Well, have you?”
“It hurts too much.” Noor shook her hair back behind her shoulders. “And it keeps cramping up.”
“Ah!” Jinan sounded pleased. “You need to stretch the muscle against the direction of the cramp. That will help to ease it.”
“I know that.” Noor shot Jinan an irritated look. “I always do that, but it’s just too sore now. I can’t even get my foot to move, never mind stretch it.”
“That will happen.” Jinan sat forward, regarding Noor’s leg with interest. “Take your shoe off and try running your thumb down the inside arch of your foot, all the way from your heel to the ball of your big toe.”
Elke expected Noor to snap at Jinan, but instead, Noor eased the shoe off her foot. It was clear, from the careful way she moved that she was in severe pain.
“Good,” said Jinan. “Now, with your thumb—that’s the way. Don’t press too hard. There’s no need for force.”
Noor’s fingers moved across her foot, her expression intent, as if she was listening for an elusive sound. “That...that actually does help.” She pressed her thumb into the sole of her foot again, this time with more assurance.
“Now,” said Jinan, “find the hollow at the side of your knee, just where the tendon joins the bone.” She touched her own knee, demonstrating. “Just here.”
Noor sat up a bit more and tried to find the place. “Is this right? What must I do?” Her tone was still grudging, but she no longer sounded quite as cold.
“Press there, like this”—Jinan gripped her own knee—“ and hold. It shouldn’t hurt. Stop if it hurts.”
“Oh.” Noor closed her eyes, frowning. “I— Think I— Yes.”
“Now, can you straighten your leg, just a little?” Jinan stared at her intently and held up a hand as Noor’s mouth twisted. “No, ease up. I can see it’s too tight for you to try that now. Here, let me.”
She placed her hand where Noor’s had been, her fingers clamping Noor’s knee. When she tried to take Noor’s foot with her other hand, she came up short against the chain that held her manacle. She shot Elke a look. “Can you reach?”
Elke wordlessly took hold of Noor’s foot. She looked at Jinan, waiting for instructions.
“Don’t do anything, just hold it there.” Jinan’s fingers moved on Noor’s knee, making subtle adjustments.
“Oh!” Noor gave a gasp, and her eyes flew open. “No, it’s okay,” she said, before either Elke or Kiran could protest. “It’s helping. It’s helping.”
“Good.” Jinan adjusted her grip again, digging her fingers into Noor’s calf. “How does this feel?” She dragged her hand along Noor’s leg, gently stretching at the muscle, moving fingertips with deft assurance, pressing at points, and then releasing.
“It’s— Almost— Too much.” Noor’s face was scrunched into a grimace. “But I think it’s helping. It’s still sore, but the cramp is gone.”
“You can lower her foot now,” Jinan said to Elke. “Let it down.”
Elke obeyed. The limb seemed to have more movement, and Jinan was able to draw Noor’s foot easily up onto her knee where she continued the massage.
“Relax,”
she told Noor. “Don’t try and take the weight. Otherwise it may cramp up again.” She bent over Noor’s ankle, concentrating. “Were you born like this?”
Noor shook her head. “Bone flu,” she said shortly. “When I was little.”
“And you’ve always worn a brace?”
Noor nodded.
“But not always one as tight as the one they took off you, right?”
“That was new,” Noor admitted. “I only got it about a month ago. It’s supposed to force the ankle into alignment.”
Jinan sniffed in disgust. “Force. You cannot force these things. How does that feel? Can you feel that?” She pinched Noor’s little toe, and Noor gave an involuntary squeak. “Good. And this? Good, that’s very good. The nerve damage may not be so bad, then.”
“How do you know about this?” asked Noor.
“I have some medical training. Can you feel this?” Jinan stroked a finger on her heel, and Noor nodded. “It’s better now?”
“Much better.” Noor’s face had lost its pallor, and her mouth was no longer drawn tight. “Thank you.”
Jinan gave a stiff little shrug. “No need to thank me. I’ll show you how to stretch. And how to manage without a brace. That brace was doing you more harm than good in any case.”
Elke glanced towards the guards, who were still absorbed in their conversation. “Do you know where we are?” she asked Jinan in an undertone.
Jinan shook her head. “This could be any of a hundred niches. Dhulka Abuur, maybe, from the look of it. At any rate, it’s one with working electricity.”
“What?”
Elke followed Jinan’s gaze to the carriage’s ceiling and could have kicked herself for not noticing before. The lamps were dim, but they were clearly powered by electricity. They had tiny glowing filaments, and each lamp was connected to a wire that had been haphazardly taped to the ceiling.
“But I thought— The Strange—”
“No electricity?” Jinan gave a thin smile. “Only some worlds have no electric power. And many Eyes. The Gremium certainly has none. But this niche is quite electrical, apparently. The Strange being without electricity is one of those things people like to believe, and spread about, I’m not sure why.”
The Strange Page 17
