by V. J. Timlin
She lay flat on her stomach, her whole body shaking and her heart hammering the floor underneath her. She didn’t dare move.
“Are you alright?” Vari asked.
Anouk nodded. She tried to reply, but her throat and tongue were dry. She swallowed a few times before a croaking sound came.
“Thanks. Yes, I’m fine now. I just want to lie here for a while.”
“It’d be better if you went inside.”
“I’m not sure I can move,” Anouk whimpered.
“I’ll help.” Vari took Anouk under her arm.
She rose on all fours. “Okay, if you open the door, I’ll crawl in.”
Safely inside, Anouk collapsed on the floor. “Shit, that was scary. I thought I’d fall and die.” She wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Did we lose them?”
“Yes,” Vari said. “Do you want some water?”
“Yes, please.”
Vari walked to one of the cabinets and pulled a water bottle out. Anouk envied how she moved around, maintaining her balance in the caravan that jumped and rocked along the uneven street like she had shock absorbers in her legs.
Anouk sat up, leaning her back against the wall. Vari walked over and handed her the water.
She curled her fingers tight around the glass. Staring at the churning water, she brought the glass closer to her lips, but just then the caravan bumped. The water that was meant to go into her mouth ended up on her face and down her front.
“Blast it,” she grumbled and wiped her face on her sleeve. “I need a baby bottle or something.”
The door opened and Nat walked in, balancing in the same effortless manner as Vari. Disgruntled, Anouk placed the glass next to her on the floor. She was the only wrecking ball here.
“Your way of handling that guard was a bit hazardous,” Nat said. There wasn’t annoyance in his tone or his expression, only a slight tease. Still, she blushed in embarrassment. She hadn’t done a very good job.
“He saw my kick coming,” she muttered, avoiding Nat’s eyes.
“Yes, I hate that when people don’t let me kick them in their face when I’m trying to do exactly that.”
Anouk stuck out her tongue.
“The guards nowadays are more professional than when I was young,” Vari said.
Nat nodded. “The factory owners hire former enforcers to guard the grounds, I hear.”
Anouk frowned at Nat. “Was it you who shot at the one who tried to pull me off? Was that really necessary?”
“Yes, but don’t worry, he didn’t die.” Nat grinned. “I aimed at his arm.”
“Like that makes any difference.”
“Well, he got to keep his life and he let go of his grip on you, so I think it does.”
“That was actually reckless, Nat. You could have hit Anouk.” Vari gave him a scolding look.
Anouk leaned her head against the wall, rubbing her face. “Oh, dear God.”
Nat defended himself. “Please, Vari, have some faith in me. What else was I supposed to do? He nearly pulled her off. I couldn’t let that happen, could I?”
Yes, Nat’s quick reaction had saved her from falling but the bullet passing just inches from her brain wasn’t a happy thought. Death seemed to lurk in every corner. It just seemed to be a matter of time before it caught up with her. Maybe she should simply surrender to the idea and await her fate.
The floor boards sagged a bit under Anouk and a hand touched her shoulder. “Anouk, are you alright?” Vari asked.
“I’m going to die here and nobody will find out.”
“What did you say, Anouk?” Nat asked.
She dropped her hands on her lap and met Nat’s eyes. “I said, I’m going to die here and nobody will find out. In my world, that is.”
Nat gave a flat look at Vari and waved his hands towards Anouk. “Now, look what you did.”
Vari’s eyebrows shot up. “Me?” She placed her hand on her chest. “What did I do?”
“Sowing seeds of doubt in my partner’s mind, that’s what you did.” Amusement lurked beneath his stern tone.
Vari snorted. “That’s your own doing, son.”
The caravan stopped with a soft jerk.
“This is our stop. Let’s go and see if Rose has anything for us.” Nat extended his hand to Anouk. “Miss Herring, adventure awaits.”
Anouk stared at Nat who winked back at her. A slow grin spread on her face. Yes, adventure indeed. She took the hand and let Nat pull her up. “Already, eh? No time for a good wallow in self-pity? I was just getting started, you know.” She tsked tsked. “You’re a cruel man, Mr Walla.”
“Aye.” He winked again.
Anouk shook her head and said to Vari, “You’ve created a monster.”
Vari chuckled. “I know.” She headed to the door. “Alright, I’ll leave you two to get ready. We’ll head to that small patch of woods on the other side of the military base.”
“Ah, the Royal Restroom,” Nat said, and added when Anouk’s eyebrows flew up in a silent question, “Soldiers used it as a latrine before the barracks got water closets.”
“Fascinating,” Anouk muttered.
“Well, I don’t know about that, but it’s as good a place to camp as the Outer Rim Park in terms of not getting surprised by outlaws and wanted former warlords.”
Anouk secured her katana on her back. Her heart rate jumped and her skin prickled as it did the previous night. This time though it wasn’t all fear, but also… excitement. When had the change happened? She glanced at Nat who was checking his revolver. Was it his influence? That he somehow made her exceed herself? To do things she hadn’t thought of, even in her wildest dreams? Maybe. One thing was sure though: it was wonderful to have him back. She felt… safer with him. She opened her mouth to say as much.
Nat lifted his gaze. “Ready, partner?”
Anouk hesitated, but then smiled. “Yeah, let’s go snooping.”
“Snooping?”
“It means sneaking and prying.”
“Hmm, I like that word.” Nat patted her shoulder. “Aye, let’s go snooping.”
Chapter 13
The narrow streets of The Pits were by midmorning full of life with an endless stream of people coming and going. Some were minding their own business, some chatting with neighbours while others were hurrying to do whatever they needed to do to make ends meet. An old drunk sat in his own filth, leaning against a wall bellowing out songs and grabbing for the women who ventured too close. A woman balanced a basket full of freshly laundered and neatly folded linen on her hip. Dirty children in ragged clothes scurried past her, chasing each other, and almost knocked her over.
“Oi, you bloody brats. Look where you’re going,” she yelled and took a better grip on the basket. The children darted down the street without so much as a glance back at her. She sniffed and resumed walking.
Dodging people, vehicles and shaggy stray dogs, Anouk and Nat navigated a packed lane. The district was as dreary and dirty as she remembered from her last visit. The vile stench was also the same, but to her own surprise, she no longer found it overwhelming.
Nat circumvented two strays, snarling and baring their teeth to each other. As soon as they had gone past, a fight broke out between the angry beasts. Anouk jumped at the fierce barks and yelps. Glancing over her shoulder, she spied a half-rotten carcass lying on the street. The corpse was worm-riddled and slimy, but it was a meal, and the animals were fighting over it. Anouk shuddered in disgust. The fight ended as abruptly as it had started when a horse-drawn wagon rattled down the street, threatening to crush everyone who didn’t give way fast enough.
Anouk and Nat pressed themselves against the wall as it passed. The driver sat on his bench, keeping his gaze over the horse’s head, ignoring any traffic not on wheels. The horse and the size of the vehicle were a sufficient deterrent to clear the lane ahead.
“Jeez, those shouldn’t be driving along this narrow and busy street,” Anouk complained. “Someone might get trampled.”
>
Nat shrugged. “Most streets in Rondon are like this. Only in the city centre and in the wealthier areas are they wider.”
“It’s hazardous.”
“What can you do?” Nat replied. “Goods have to be delivered and businesses run.”
“Yeah, I guess…” She chewed her lower lip while she pondered. She had lived her whole life in a modernised society and she could see what the next steps—for good or bad—were likely to be in a society that was living at the height of an industrial revolution. Nat, on the other hand, wouldn’t understand any of that yet.
A steam-powered carriage squeezed into the lane—Rondon City Taxi. It chugged towards them, a plume of black smoke rising from the exhaust. Children ran beside it, their faces gleaming with excitement. Adults also turned their heads, following the slow progress of the vehicle. The looks on their faces varied between disapproval, envy and reluctant admiration. The trip to the constabulary with the discomfort Anouk had felt while travelling on one came to mind.
“How…” Anouk started to ask when the taxi turned from the next intersection and the curtain of its window shifted open, revealing a silhouette of a passenger. She froze. The man’s profile looked familiar. Stalo? The man turned his head and junked the curtain over the window. The taxi sped off, vanishing out of sight.
She took a shaky breath. He had looked nothing like Stalo. The man had been bald and plump, not dark and lean. She really was starting to be taut as a bowstring.
“You were asking something?” Nat asked.
Anouk forced a smile on her face. She wasn’t going to tell Nat she was seeing Stalo in every man now. He might change his mind about their partnership if she did. “Only how volatile are the engines in those? Have there been any accidents where the steam engine exploded? Does your government document accidents?”
Through a wry smile, Nat said, “You have strange interests. Do you want to visit the government’s traffic department to place some enquiries? I’m sure Vari or Fitzwil would be happy to take you there.”
“No, no, just making conversation. I’ll stick with the plan and go with you to visit Rose Tarandus.”
Nat chuckled. “Good. For a moment I thought you were keen on taking on a different project.”
“And let you continue alone? Fat chance.”
“Your concern is touching.”
“Of course. You’re my ticket back,” Anouk replied with a grin.
“You hurt my feelings.” Nat twisted his face into a mournful expression.
For some reason, a sad puppy look on Nat’s face was more adorable and less annoying than on Owen’s. But most of all, it was less manipulative. And, it lowered her anxiety over Stalo an iota. She winked. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
Nat heaved a dramatic sigh that would have put Madam Valeria’s to shame. “Ungratefulness knows no boundaries.”
Anouk chuckled. What would she do without Nat? Go mad probably.
They turned the corner and came to Rose’s home street. They walked past Dr Arnar’s clinic. A rusty hasp and staple were fastened on the door with four bent nails and a small flimsy padlock hung through.
“Looks like Arnar has left in a hurry,” Anouk said. “He hasn’t even had time to repair his door. That lock won’t keep anyone out; a child could kick that door in.”
Nat glanced at the building. “Aye.”
“Obviously Stalo’s offer wasn’t lucrative enough. Why do you think he wanted Arnar to join him?”
Nat leaned close to her ear. “Better not say his name aloud here. There are ears everywhere.”
“Understood.”
He pulled Anouk aside, keeping his voice quiet. “Since his lieutenants are here, it means he has bigger plans than lying low. But now let’s see if Rose has anything new.”
He strode towards the Tarandus house, with Anouk falling a couple of steps behind him. Cold chills ran down her spine. Bigger plans? Stalo had the Gadget in his possession. Did his possible bigger plan involve… her world? How much had he managed to see in less than the few hours he had spent in London? How impressed was he with what he saw?
Nat knocked on the door and a few moments later Rose answered it, surprise spread across her face.
“Good morning, Mrs Tarandus.” Nat bowed, taking his hat off.
“Good morning, Nat and Anouk. I…” she hesitated, but then stepped back, gesturing for them to come in.
Anouk walked behind Nat into the dim-lit room. Valintina and Danja were playing with rag dolls on the floor. Nat bowed to them with the same gentlemanly manner he had shown their mother. The girls started to giggle and darted behind the chest at the far end of the single room, the giggling continued in their hiding place.
Anouk nudged Nat’s arm. “I think you’ve made two new conquests.”
He winked with a grin and turned to Rose.
“Sorry, I’ve only a few minutes to spare. I’ve got laundry to deliver.” Rose patted a basket on the dinner table. “I wasn’t expecting you to respond to my message this soon.”
Nat frowned quizzically. “We’ve been a bit busy lately, so I haven’t had a chance to check the Communicator. When did you send it?”
“About a half hour ago.”
“Ah, we were ‘playing tag’ with the guards in Rondon Industrial District.” Nat flashed a boyish smile. Anouk bit her lip. Although it had been a terrifying experience, Nat’s flippant comment tickled her funny bone.
Rose rolled her eyes.
“Judging by your face, Nat, you’ve been slower than Anouk.”
“No, these are from yesterday and last night when I hooked up with some new ‘friends’.”
“New friends, you say?” Rose didn’t sound impressed.
“Well, they got a bit carried away.”
Rose flicked her eyes at Anouk, regarding her with a flat expression.
Anouk hurried to say, “I wasn’t there, but I did meet them eventually. Not very healthy minded people.”
It was official, she was with a crazy person and it was catching.
Rose must have been thinking the same because she shook her head with a heavy sigh.
“What did you have to tell us?” Nat asked.
“Ah, yes, Dr Arnar left soon after your visit.”
Nat nodded. “Aye. He said he was leaving the city for a while.”
“Well, this might not have anything to do with your case, but I saw a man in front of Arnar’s clinic asking about him and his whereabouts. There are plenty of backstreet quacks around, so if he’d needed one, he could have gone just a couple blocks towards Flower Estate to find the next. That’s why it struck me strange. And since Stalo visited him, I thought there might be a connection.”
“It’s very possible. What did he look like?”
Rose puffed out her cheeks. “Hmm, slightly taller than you. Maybe in his late-forties, early fifties. Blue eyes, dark greyish hair. And, oh yes, he had a small tattoo behind his ear. It looked like a noble crest.”
“De Meriweth family crest.” Nat’s face fell grim. “Yes, he’s one of Stalo’s men. They are the only ones with that kind of tattoo.”
“Good to know.” Rose lifted the laundry basket. “I’m sorry, but I have to get these delivered soon or I won’t get paid.”
“Of course, but could I ask a favour before you go?”
“Sure.”
“Those new ‘friends’ I mentioned were hired by Stalo, and they died last night at the port. There was also a fire. From what I picked up from their conversation, they were all from The Pits. If you hear anything about them, could you let us know?”
“I’ll keep my ears open. Mrs Ustur told me this morning about the fire and the burned bodies. She said it’s in today’s Rondon Gazette. But now I really must be going.” Rose supported the basket on her hip.
Anouk and Nat thanked Rose and headed out. Through the open door, Anouk heard Rose instruct the girls to stay inside and open the door to no one. A wave of sympathy washed over Anouk; sing
le parenting in The Pits must have been hellish to the nth degree.
“What’s a communicator?” Anouk asked, when they came back to the street.
“The Communicator is a machine to send a message-like telegraph, but without a cable. I’ll show it to you when we get back to camp.”
Anouk whistled. This world never ceased to surprise her. “So the Communicator sends, umm, a radio signal?”
“Yes,” Nat said, looking pleased.
“But someone might be able to eavesdrop, if it works the way I think it does.”
“Oh, you’ve the same technology?”
“Yes, but ours…” She hesitated, she didn’t want to appear arrogant.
“Yours is more advanced?”
Anouk grimaced. “Yeah…”
“Well, I thought it might be.” Nat turned. “Alright, let’s get the newspaper first and see what it says.”
It took some time to locate a paperboy. One stood on the corner in front of a shop at the edge of The Pits.
“Fire in the port! Eight bodies found!” he shouted, holding a banner in his hand that stated the same in cat size letters. Below the headline, there stood in smaller print, ‘Rondon Gazette’. The newspapers were folded and tucked under his arm. The buzz around the boy was constant—disasters and body counts appeared to stir up as much interest here as in Anouk’s world.
Nat approached the boy while Anouk stayed behind, observing the scene.
Having got the paper, Nat strolled towards Anouk. He folded the page of the breaking news of the day and angled it so she could read it as well.
Like the Victorian newspapers she had seen, this one was full of articles with tight text in narrow columns and pictures to accentuate the stories were sparse. The lines started to jump around Anouk’s vision and she had to blink a couple of times to remain focused. The newspapers back home were less straining to the eyes.
In the article, the journalist sensationalised the carnage caused by the arson. He painted events scene by scene as if he had been there when the fire broke out. Anouk snorted—he would do well in any tabloid in England!
Nat lifted his gaze from the newspaper. “What?”
“That reporter. He’s fabricating at least half the news.”