The Strange

by Masha du Toit

  The man nodded and made a note on his clipboard. Next, he cupped one of her breasts, moving his thumb over her nipple in a slow caress, his expression bland and business-like, as if he were judging the ripeness of a piece of fruit.

  Noor’s breath froze. She wanted to turn herself inside out to shed his touch.

  The man made another note and turned to speak to one of his colleagues.

  A woman.

  A short, dark-eyed woman.

  The shock of recognition kicked Noor’s breath away.

  “Mom!”

  The word was driven from her.

  Thandeka Mahlangu met her daughter’s gaze and looked down at her clipboard.

  Mom.

  Black snow filled the edges of Noor’s vision and buzzed in her ears.

  She’d found Thandeka.

  The search was over. They’d been right. She was here in the Strange.

  And she was one of them. Wearing a stain-proof overall, calmly judging children for slaughter.

  A dark maelstrom broke over Noor. It filled her eyes and ears and knocked her feet from under her.

  ¤¤¤

  Meisje came gradually awake.

  Sound came first. A rhythmic rattle and squeak, rattle and squeak, with an occasional rushing sound that grew, then receded again.

  Somebody sat close to her, so close that she could feel their warmth. The scent brought her all the way awake.

  Argent.

  Her head hurt, and her vision blurred. Something confined her jaws, making it hard to breathe, and although she tried, she couldn’t move much beyond lifting her head.

  “Well, that didn’t take long.”

  Argent bent over her, peering at the thing that held her mouth closed. His eyes darted rapidly back and forth, and his lips compressed, but he seemed satisfied at what he saw. “I hoped the drug would keep you under a bit longer, but at least that muzzle’s still secure.”

  Meisje struggled again, and this time she managed to roll onto her stomach and lift her head so she could look around. She was in a small room—no. Not a room. It was a carriage on one of the portal trains. Argent was sitting on a crate, and she was on the floor next to him. A pair of ear-protectors lay between them.

  Had they left the Babylon Eye?

  Meisje tried to sniff, but all she could smell was Argent and the dusty train compartment.

  Argent eyed her speculatively. “So.” He wiped his palms on his trouser legs. “You’re supposed to understand speech. Do you know what I’m saying?”

  Meisje stared at him. What did this man want? He’d darted her. He’d muzzled her. Now he was taking her somewhere. Was he one of the ones who’d taken Elke? His scent hadn’t been in that room where the ambush had taken place.

  Her lack of response seemed to unnerve Argent.

  “Well.” He rubbed his palms across his thighs again. “So, the thing is—” He broke off to lean back and close his eyes. “What am I doing. It’s a verkakte dog.” He looked at her again. “I hope you can understand me. I paid enough in bribes to get you through the gate.”

  Gardag and man regarded one another for a long moment, rocking with the motion of the train.

  At last, Argent sighed. “Okay. Look. We both want the same thing. You want your owner, Elke Veraart. I want to find her too. That is, I want to find my client, Jinan Meer. My owner, if you will. I’m sure they’re together. Do you agree?”

  His tone was arrogant, but he blinked uncertainly.

  Meisje bent her head and gave a low “whuff.” She didn’t bother with the ear- or blink-signals. This man wouldn’t understand.

  “Does that mean yes?” Argent looked doubtfully at her.

  Meisje “whuffed” again. Her head was aching, and her mouth so dry her tongue felt thick.

  “Well.” Argent nodded. “Good. I take it you agree with my assessment? That Veraart and Frau-eid Meer are together?”

  Meisje nodded.

  “Good.” Argent looked grimly pleased. “I thought, at first, that Veraart had laid some kind of trap for Jinan, but the more I looked into it, the more I’m convinced that she’s been taken too. Dolly certainly thought so. Dolly thinks the collectionistas are involved. But either way—whether Veraart was a victim, or in charge of it all, you can help me follow her trail.”

  He drew something out of the collar of his shirt. A small object on a piece of string, tied around his neck.

  “Know what this is?”

  Meisje knew. The small, glossy black oblong in Argent’s fingers was only too familiar.

  Argent was nodding again. “I can see you do know. You really are clever, aren’t you. You know all about the kill switch.”

  He turned the thing with his fingers, holding it gingerly. “I read up all about it. They still had one in the Torka offices, although it took some fast talking to convince them to let me have it. Depending how long I press it, this button”—he touched an indentation on the object’s side”—will either deliver a shock, or, if I hold both buttons together, it will kill you.”

  He let the thing go so that it dangled on its string outside his shirt.

  “Just in case you get any ideas.”

  Meisje looked at him, unblinking.

  “I’m going to make a bargain with you.”

  A rattling bang, and a lurch, told Meisje the train had come to a halt.

  “We want the same thing. To follow Veraart’s trail. You want to find Elke. I want to find Frau-eid Meer. I’m betting that they are in the same place. I can’t follow them, but I think that you can. With that nose of yours.”

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  “See, we need one another. You can’t go where you need to go without attracting too much attention—a stray dog, and one as eye-catching as you? You wouldn’t get far. And I can’t follow a scent trail like you can. So, we can make a bargain.”

  He leaned a little closer.

  “I will untie you—not the muzzle, I’m not crazy—and you can see if you can find Jinan’s scent. Jinan and Elke’s. We can track them together. I’m pretty sure where to pick up that trail.” He touched the kill switch. “And if you get any ideas, I won’t hesitate to use this thing. Do you understand?”

  Meisje nodded slowly.

  “Do you agree?”

  Meisje gave a low bark and nodded again.

  “Good.” Argent sat back. “Then we have a deal.”

  Skritti

  “One for me, one for Betina, for Kiran, for Elke...” Mell was bent over an open crate, counting out blankets.

  Elke took an armful of the blankets and helped Mell and Betina arrange them into four piles near a window cut into the side of the can.

  “Claim a bit of space for ourselves.” Mell stood back and regarded the blankets with satisfaction.

  The three of them were in a screened-off section of one of the cargo-cans, one level up. Barb had showed them there, with a warning not to wander off into the outer courtyard by themselves.

  Betina pulled the last blanket into place, then wrinkled her nose and lifted the edge of her shirt collar, sniffing. “Phew! I sure could do with a wash. I reek.”

  “You do,” agreed Mell. “There’s one of those water troughs out back. Want to go check it out?”

  “Let’s go.”

  They stepped out from behind the screen, into a sort of common area with low tables and crates for chairs. Several people gathered around one of the tables, playing a dice game.

  “Hey,” Kiran said from where she was leaning against the wall, watching the game. She still looked a little flushed. Elke supposed she’d not yet recovered from the incident in the courtyard.

  “We’re gonna get clean,” Mell said. “Look for some water. Wanna come? You can do the translating.”

  They all went through the hatch to the lowest level of the can-stack, and then out the back door. The stack of cans was not a solid cube, as Elke had assumed, but arranged in a curve, with the wall of the courtyard closing off the open end
.

  The enclosed space held a water trough, and some sheds that were probably latrines.

  Nehi, Barb, and a young man they’d not met before sat on the on the wide edge of the trough. Nehi smiled to see them, but Barb was cleaning her nails with her dagger, and didn’t look up.

  Kiran exchanged some remarks with Nehi. She spoke haltingly, and used gestures where words failed her.

  “It’s fine,” she said to her friends. “We can wash here.”

  “Good.” Betina stripped off her shirt, but Mell looked doubtfully around. “Isn’t there any soap?”

  “Soap!” Barb looked up for the first time. “Who needs soap!” She dipped a hand in the water. “See these?”

  Slivers of silver congregated around her fingers. Elke stepped closer, and saw that they were not fish, as she’d first assumed, but more like tiny jellyfish, soft-bodied tubelets that pulsed themselves through the water.

  “These are skritti. Eat dirt, grease, the lot.” Barb extracted her hand, shaking it free of the little creatures. “Just leave your stuff in to soak for a bit, and they’ll clean it all.”

  “Really?” Mell bent to peer at the water. “Those little things?”

  “You’re strangeside now, girl,” said Betina. “Everything’s all about bugs and beasties.”

  “Wow.” Mell dipped a finger into the water and watched in fascination as the creatures congregated. “What about the rest of me?” She grinned up at Barb. “Can I take a bath in here?”

  The young man next to Nehi bent forward conspiratorially. “Sure,” he said, “just so long as you don’t mind them working their way into any crevices and openings, if you know what I mean.”

  “Ugh!” Mell snatched back her hand, much to Barb’s amusement.

  “He’s just pulling your chain,” she said.

  “Don’t listen to her,” the young man said to Mell, widening his eyes in mock solemnity. “One of them got into Barb’s ear when she was washing in this very trough. It’s still eating its way through her brain—” He dodged back to avoid the blow Barb aimed at him. “It’s why she’s always in such a sour mood.”

  “At least that’s better than never washing, like some people I know,” Barb said with a snort. “Don’t worry,” she said to Mell. “The little buggers won’t do you any harm. That’s just a stupid story.”

  “I’m Pugio Tau,” the young man said, grinning at Mell. He whirled and, with a swift jerk of his wrist, threw his dagger at the vines that covered the courtyard wall. A soft thump indicated that it had hit something other than stone or foliage.

  “Got the bugger.”

  Tau retrieved his dagger, which was embedded in a furry creature about the size of a large rat.

  Tau saw Elke’s interest. “Good eating.” He laid the creature down next to a row of similar corpses.

  “Show-off.” Barb flicked her own knife into the foliage. “Got it,” she said complacently as she got up to fetch her prey.

  Betina and Mell stripped and dumped their clothing into the water, then sat on the side of the trough to watch the skritti at work, as comfortable in their naked skin as if they were clothed.

  Elke drew Kiran aside. “I can’t stop thinking about Noor.”

  “I know.” Kiran hunched her shoulders angrily. “I wish—” She rubbed a hand over her face. “Fuck this place. How the hell did we end up here?” Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying, and Elke noticed that her hands were shaking too. “Fuck this,” Kiran said again, and jerked her jacket off. “Let’s at least get clean.”

  Elke followed suit. It was a relief to get out of her dirty clothes and lower herself into the water. The water was cold enough to make her gasp. She wadded up her wet shirt and sponged herself down, wringing out the fabric and watching the streaks of dirt whirl away in the current. Dipping her head and shoulders under the water, she scrubbed her fingers through her hair.

  Then she crouched down and held her breath, completely submerged. She felt first one, then another, then many little pinching touches on her skin.

  Skritti.

  Soon they were all over her, light touches on her thighs and belly, nibbling her eyelashes, tickling behind her ears. They fizzed all over her, and she had to clench her teeth to stop herself from yelping. When she simply couldn’t hold her breath any longer she lifted her face from the water, wiping her eyes, nose and mouth to clear them of the little creatures.

  Every part of her that was still under water was covered in grazing ranks of skritti.

  Betina and Mell were wringing out their clothes and pulling them on, wet as they were.

  Kiran had only taken off her outer garments and stood there in her underpants and long-sleeved shirt, stirring her submerged clothes, her head drooping. Her gills were visible, opening and closing a little as if she were struggling to breathe.

  Elke squeezed the worst of the water out of her hair and got out of the trough, carefully brushing away the last of the clinging skritti.

  Maybe she wants to be left alone. She wrung out her clothing as best she could, and dressed, struggling a little as the wet fabric clung to her skin. The stone edge of the trough was still warm from the sun, but she shivered in the chilly evening breeze.

  After a moment’s hesitation, she went to Kiran’s side.

  “Need some help with that?” She took the wet lump of clothes from her friend’s hands. “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll deal with this.”

  Kiran blinked at her, then nodded, lowering herself stiffly onto the edge of the trough.

  “You look a bit rough,” Elke said under her breath, when she was sure none of the others would hear. “You feeling okay?” She spread Kiran’s shirt out and lifted her water-heavy trousers.

  “Uhn.” Kiran drew her hands over her face and through her hair, in a vain attempt to neaten the curly tufts. “I just need some sleep.”

  Elke looked at her doubtfully. It was more than just her flushed cheeks. Kiran’s movements had a worrying lethargy.

  “I hate that we don’t know what’s happened to Noor,” Kiran muttered. “I want to think she’s okay, but—”

  “I know.” Elke hung the trousers over the trough edge to drip out the worst of the water, while she wrung out Kiran’s shirt. “Maybe tomorrow we can find out where they took her. And Jinan too. I hope, at least, that they are still together. Here you go.” She handed Kiran the shirt. “It’s still sopping, but it’ll dry once you’ve got it on.”

  Nehi said something, directing his words at Elke, who looked questioningly at Barb.

  “He says we’re going to make a fire just now,” Barb explained. “That should help you dry out. Gets chilly here in the evenings, with the sea-breeze coming up.”

  “Barb, your turn to fetch the food.” Tau threw his dagger into the leaves again, but this time it clattered against stone, and something scuttled away, shaking leaves as it went. He cursed. “I’ve done my bit, getting these buggers.”

  Barb stood up, looking at Elke and her companions. “Come. Let’s get some firewood. You guys can help.”

  She showed them where to look for dry leaves, twigs, and sticks from the creeper. “Watch the thorns.” She lifted aside a spray of leaves to expose the wicked double-jointed spikes that nestled everywhere among the leaves. “Those give a nasty scratch. And something in the sap makes it itch like hell.”

  That explains why nobody’s climbing these to get out. Elke touched a tip of one of the thorns, and sucked her finger, looking at the creeper with new respect. The thorns were wicked-sharp, each one long enough to impale a carelessly placed hand.

  “Where’s the fire going to be?” Betina asked when they’d gathered a respectable heap of firewood.

  “Follow me.” Picking up her share of the fuel, Barb led them inside, and then up a series of ladders that climbed through the can-stack, till they came out on the roof of the topmost can.

  There were some people up there already. They looked round in surprise at the sight of Elke and her friends.
Some of them rose to their feet, hands on their knives.

  Barb said something, but it was only when Pugio Nehi climbed out on the roof and explained the situation that everyone relaxed and turned back to their conversations.

  “You guys get a fire started,” Barb said. “I’ll go get the food.”

  They followed Nehi to a spot near the edge of the can where some crates were set out around a ring of ash-stained stones.

  The can-stack rose about a third of the way up the walls that surrounded the courtyard. They looked down on some of the walkways but were still quite a distance from the top. Far above, streaked clouds caught the last of the sun, and the first few stars made bright points of light.

  Below them, fires were flaring in the courtyard. People moved about, getting ready for the night. Elke felt a profound relief that she was not among them. Being up here, with Barb and her friends, felt a lot more secure.

  Somewhere, someone was singing, that same lilting song she’d first heard in the Gremium. While Betina and Mell got the fire going, Kiran translated some of the song for Elke.

  “Brother Matt, Pau Menhes, and Toma, and eleven more unnamed, miners all, lost in the South Bet cave-in...” Kiran’s voice trailed off as she listened, and then shook her head. “It’s a list of names and the places people died or went missing.” She shivered. “I’m guessing they’re all slaves. It must be a sort of slave-memorial.”

  The song carried on, piercingly sweet, but Kiran didn’t translate any more of it.

  Soon, Nehi had a good fire going. Elke, Kiran, Betina and Mell huddled as close to it as they could, trying to dry their clothes by the heat of the flames. The breeze that had sprung up with the dusk was cold on their damp skin.

  Tau soon joined them. He spiked the furry creatures he’d killed onto lengths of stick, and then held them over the fire to burn off their fur. He called the things rats, but they didn’t look like any rat Elke had ever seen. They didn’t have rodent incisors, and their ears were so small as to be almost invisible. Their sinuous bodies were ferret-like, but they did have long, naked ratty tails.