by Jack Conner
Gasps and curses erupted from the others.
Avery stared, unwilling to believe it. Unwilling to face the truth. For, resting in the depression below him, was not the Device at all, but a silver bowling ball.
A note was stuck to it, fluttering.
With shaking hands, Avery removed it. He started to read it out loud, realized his voice as too rough, cleared his throat and started over:
“`If you’re reading this, you’re an idiot. Hoped you would choose otherwise. Intercepted your bat last night. The Device was moved immediately. It’s already on the Over-City. Only carried on with deception to spring resistance trap. They will be put down. You made the wrong call. Farewell. We will not meet again. Love, Sheridan. PS: Ani really was waiting for you at the airfield, but if you were not there to greet her she would have been returned to the Over-City. You will never see her again.’”
His voice cracked on the last line and he had to let the others read it for themselves. He collapsed on the ground, trembling.
Chapter 6
Someone, he thought it was Janx, offered him a flask. It was filled with the sweet flower-wine of Laisha, and Avery downed it in long gulps, vaguely aware of the others talking. They gave him time and occasionally said kind words to him, but he barely heard them. He stared off, not seeing, not thinking, only feeling. He wanted to hurl himself off the rooftop. He wished the Lai machete-men had finished him.
At one point, he dimly heard Janx ask Layanna, “How did you know?”
“I can feel the Device, remember. I knew it wasn’t here.”
Quietly, Hildra said, “Did that note say ‘Love, Sheridan’? Fuck me!”
At last Janx grabbed Avery’s arm and hauled him up, roughly but not unkindly.
“It’s time, Doc,” he said. “You need to come out of it.”
Avery wiped his face. Cleared his throat. Wordlessly, he nodded. His gaze went to the Over-City. To his surprise it was receding, growing smaller against the sky. It had got what it came for and now that the riots were fading it was on its way once more—toward the sea, surely, to activate the Device, after Octunggen scientists had reversed its functions.
And somewhere on that monstrosity was Ani.
“We have to get there,” Avery said, staring at the Over-City. He heard the shakiness, but also the resolution, in his voice.
The others eyed him.
“I’ve heard of better ideas,” Hildra said. “And remember, in my circles I’m considered more than an average thief. Getting in and out of places I’m not supposed to is mother’s milk.”
“We have to get there,” Avery repeated. His voice was stronger now.
Layanna laid a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. “If we do go, it’s not to get Ani back, Francis. It’s for the Device.”
He made himself nod. “Of course.”
She frowned at him.
“How’re we gonna get there?” This was Janx, scowling at the sky.
Avery rubbed a hand across his bald spot. “They have many airships here,” he pointed out. “We could just take one. There’s enough of us to crew one.”
“No,” Layanna said. “We won’t even be able to get close to the Over-City without the proper codes. They’ll shoot us down before we come within five miles of it.”
“What then?”
She frowned. “I ... I don’t know.” She was looking around them at the buildings, distracted by something.
“Perhaps we can steal a Lai airship, then use it to hijack an Octunggen vessel already in the air. The Over-City wouldn’t fire on one of their own,” he said.
“They might,” Layanna said. “If we don’t have the proper codes.”
“We could force the crew to cooperate with us,” Janx said, flexing his hands.
The sound of gunfire peppered the night close by.
“Does anyone have a better plan?” Avery asked, suddenly anxious to be away.
Layanna seemed as if she were debating something privately, but whatever it was she didn’t speak it out. Her gaze was still on the buildings around them, as if she was looking for something. Someone.
On a nearby roof came the sound of many men talking in low voices while on the move. The group in the garden grew quiet. Hildra crossed to the wall and pulled herself up so that she could peer over the lip, and after several moments she returned.
“A gang of Lai with machetes. And they’re not the only ones,” she said.
“Damn,” Janx said. “They must be moving to the rooftops now that the Octs are taking back the streets.”
“Where can we go that’s safe?” Avery said. “We need to eat and rest. Is there a hotel that would take us in?”
“Doubtful,” Layanna said. “We’re foreigners, and targets. We couldn’t trust any hotel not to turn us over to either the resistance or the Octunggen.”
“What then?”
“There is an expatriate’s quarter,” she said. There was something odd in her face as she said this. Something she was holding back. Avery began to suspect what it was, and her next words only deepened his suspicion: “But we would have the same problem there. And most of the ex-pats are Octunggen. There used to be a large alchemical company located here, relocated from Lusterqal, and most of its staff were Octunggen. Many stayed in Ayu after it shut down, but they won’t be well liked by the natives, and there will have been some violence there over the last day or so.”
“You know an awful lot about it,” Hildra said, somewhat accusingly, and Avery had to agree. He thought he knew the why of it now, but he kept it to himself; if Layanna wanted to maintain her secret, there was no reason not to let her.
“Fine,” he said. “So we forget food and sleep. Find a dirigible marina and steal a ship. Take to the skies. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it will have provisions on it. From there we hijack a military ship and force its crew to take us to the Over-City.”
“Won’t work, Doc,” Janx said.
“Why?”
“The city’s locked down. The dirigible marinas are blocked off.”
“When we first arrived in the city, our plan was to find a dirigible and take after the Over-City,” Layanna explained. “I felt the Device up there, and so that’s what we went for. It was only when we were unable to access the marinas that we began casting about for alternative solutions. That’s when we heard you.”
Avery found himself annoyed that their first thought hadn’t been to rescue him, but he knew their attitude was the correct one; also, they probably assumed that if he still lived he would be with the Device.
“It gets worse, bones,” Hildra said. “We heard on the radio after we started castin’ around, they know Layanna’s here. Maybe it’s Uthua, maybe it’s the psychics, who knows, but they’ve felt her. They’ve sealed off all exit from the city. Soon they’ll be hunting for us—if they aren’t already.”
Avery rubbed his chin. “If they’ve sealed off the city ... We could still steal a swamp boat. They can’t guard them all.” The city was virtually an island with only a few roads in and out, easy to block, but there were innumerable marinas; the Octunggen couldn’t keep their eyes on each one.
“I could hot-wire one,” Hildra agreed.
“So that’s our plan?” Janx asked, his brows drawn together. He didn’t seem to care for it.
Avery started to reply, then sighed. “No. Escape is not the answer. Even if it worked, we’d be lost in the swamps without a guide. There’s no way we could survive out there on our own. More to the point, wandering around the swamps won’t get us any closer to the Over-City.”
“What then?” asked Hildra. “We can’t escape, but we also can’t get where we need to go.”
A long moment of silence passed. Avery racked his brain for something, and various ideas floated to the forefront then dissolved in a wash of implausibility.
Finally Layanna, who had been worrying over something the whole time, seemed to reach a decision.
“I know where we can go,” she said. She looke
d very solemn, as if the idea did not please her. After taking a long breath, she said, “But it will not be easy.”
Hildra snorted. “Easy ain’t on the menu.”
* * *
The cab’s wheels crunched over debris as they passed out of the bustling temple district and into a less prosperous area. Layanna grew tenser with every spin of the wheel.
“So where’re we goin’?” Janx asked from the back seat, not for the first time.
Layanna did not at first reply, then said merely, “You will see.”
“This again,” Hildra groaned.
Layanna gave terse directions to the cabbie, and soon they veered around a makeshift barricade fashioned of used cars, blocks of cement and various debris. It was obviously meant to keep out rioters, machete-men and so on, but the barricade had been abandoned, probably because of the influx of troops who would not take well to gangs of armed civilians blocking off parts of the city. Broken bottles and blood stains surrounded the barricade, hinting that it had served its purpose. Immediately past it the area became residential. Decrepit, shabby tenements reared all around, then bleak brownstones and townhouses. They were not in the Lai pagoda style but in the square-hewn manner of Octung; this then was the expatriates’ quarter. Layanna guided them down a certain street and told the cabbie to stop. Tall trees lined the road, stout and green, and their thick branches framed the sky, swaying in a sudden draft.
“We walk from here,” she said, once they’d disembarked. “I don’t want the cabbie to see the street we’re going to, just in case”
They picked their way down several blocks until they hit an almost identical street fronting a row of brownstones. They’d once been proud buildings, but the bricks were chipped now, and cracked windows—broken by stones?—had not been repaired. Potholes dotted the road. Further scrutiny revealed that some of the brownstones had been forcibly divided into smaller apartments; the remodeling was recent and ugly. The whole area was somehow forlorn. Wary faces peeked from smeared windows, then hastily retreated. They were all Urslinian, Avery realized. Not Lai.
Pale, skinny children played a skipping game on the sidewalk, and they fled at the appearance of Janx. The big man sighed. He must get that reaction often, especially from children.
Layanna eyed the chipped faces of the brownstones. “This place has changed.” The thought seemed to sadden her, though it did not sound unexpected
She settled on a particular residence and made her way toward it. Avery and the others followed, scanning the streets for signs of trouble.
Visibly summoning her courage, Layanna mounted a set of stairs and rapped on a large, oaken door. It was set in an ornate frame, but the paint was peeling, and someone had spray-painted a symbol on the door, a fishy-looking eye.
Layanna waited. She chewed on her lip and smoothed her clothes down with fidgeting hands. Avery stared at her—he had never seen her so nervous—then exchanged a glance with Hildra and Janx.
Locks clicked. The door swung open.
A man stood there, middle-aged, his black hair flecked with gray, lines around his eyes and wide, full mouth. His skin was pale and sickly, his eyes bloodshot, and he didn’t look as if he’d washed his clothes in weeks, or himself for that matter. He peered out at Layanna as if he had just crawled out from under a rock, and he had to blink his eyes repeatedly, shading them with one hand. He swayed subtly from side to side. Drunk, Avery thought. Or high.
When his eyes focused on Layanna, when he saw her, the man’s whole body convulsed. He stared at her for a long moment, making sure, and a sound of pain tore from his lips. And his skin, if it were possible, paled even further.
“Frederick,” Layanna said, her voice fluttering, “it’s me.”
She reached up a hand to trace his face.
He jerked backward, out of her reach. “No,” he said. “No ...”
She sucked in a deep breath. “It is, Frederick. It’s me.”
In a strange, choking voice he said, “Mother?”
Janx and Hildra rocked on their heels. Avery felt it, too, the surprise, but not as much as they did; he had put the pieces together earlier, upon seeing Layanna’s preoccupation and remembering that she had all but admitted to having kin in Laisha.
The man stepped onto the stoop. Layanna backed off, giving him space. He approached further, hesitant, and she let him, blinking her eyes rapidly. Frederick shook and continued to make those strange choking noises.
“But ... but ... you’re dead!”
She closed her eyes, inhaled, then opened them. “I’m alive, Frederick, and I need your help.”
She reached out again. He flinched, but this time he allowed her to touch him. She traced his jaw, tucked a strand of his hair behind an ear. At her touch, it was as if all the strength left him. He collapsed to his knees in front of her. Overcome, he actually wrapped his arms about her legs, pressed his face against her thighs and wept. Shudders convulsed him.
Layanna, pain in her face, her own eyes wet, stroked his curly, salt-and-pepper hair. “It’s all right, Frederick. Everything’s going to be all right. Mother’s here. Mother’s back.”
He wept for a long time. She looked ready to join him, but she held herself back, as if worried that if she began she would never stop. Avery wanted to prod them to hurry up with their reunion, but he kept silent. She stroked her son’s hair and whispered to him softly.
Suddenly the sound of a loudspeaker blaring in the distance reached them, and they all looked up, startled, as the metallic crackling of the voice drew closer.
“Shit,” said Hildra. “What now?”
There had been a few people out on the street going about their business. As one, they quit what they were doing and rushed inside, even the children that had relocated further down the road.
Frederic jumped to his feet. “We need to get in. Hurry!”
He lurched inside and gestured for the others to follow, which they did. The brownstone stank of mold, mildew and neglect. Shadows clung to the corners, and aged wallpaper peeled in strips from the wall. They moved to a couch with a broad window hanging over it. The blare of the bullhorn grew louder, echoing off the brownstones’ walls. A voice called out to the accompaniment of the Octunggen national anthem.
A line of tanks and troop transports lumbered up the street, smoke belching, treads grinding. Soldiers marched in step all around, and flags bearing the Lightning Crest fluttered in the wind.
In alternating Lai and Octunggen, the loudspeaker blared: “WE ARE LOOKING FOR FOUR PEOPLE. TWO MEN AND TWO WOMEN. ONE OF THE WOMEN IS KNOWN AS THE BLACK BITCH OR THE BLACK QUEEN. SHE IS ESPECIALLY DANEROUS. DO NOT APPROACH. CALL THE AUTHORITES IMMEDIATELY. SHE IS AN ENEMY TO THE STATE AND ANY WHO OFFER HER SHELTER SHALL BE DEALT WITH WITH THE UTMOST SEVERITY. THEIR DESCRPTIONS ARE AS FOLLOWS ...”
The announcement continued and the convoy rolled on, up the tree-lined avenue, at last even with Frederick’s brownstone. Avery saw one group of soldiers smash through a doorway on the opposite side of the street, hurl in smoke bombs, then charge in with gas-masks and submachine guns. Gunfire rattled. Brief screaming issued. Shortly the soldiers emerged dragging pitiful human shapes—a young man with a bruise on his face, an old woman bleeding from a wound in her side, a little boy, no more than eight, eyes wide in terror—who were handcuffed and tossed in the back of one of the transports. Another home was raided, and a third. When one transport was filled to capacity, the troops began filling up another.
Avery felt Layanna tense beside him, ready to exert her extradimensional facets, and he reached for a gun that wasn’t there. Hildra reached for hers, and Janx clutched his large revolver in a tight fist. Even Frederick armed himself, retrieving a sawed-off shotgun from a cabinet.
Avery’s heart pounded rapidly. At any moment he expected stormtroopers to burst in, guns firing. The convoy rumbled by, half hidden by the darkness, lit only by gas-lamps and city light reflected off the low-flung clouds. It made the convoy look ghostly somehow, strange an
d monstrous, like a giant metal centipede dragging itself through the city. The helms and shields of the soldiers were its carapace, glistening sickly as it wound along. At last it was gone, and all those in the brownstone breathed deeply.
“Now,” Frederick said. “Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?”
Layanna shook her head. “Later. I’ll tell you later. First we need rest and food. Do you have anything?”
Frederick frowned but vanished into the kitchen.
As soon as he was gone, Janx laughed. “So. You’ve got a pup, darlin’. Not what I was expecting.”
“Yeah,” Hildra sneered. “Where’s some rolled-up newspaper when you need it?”
Frederick returned bearing stale crackers and aged meat. The group ate as if they had been starved for weeks, and through it all Frederick eyed Layanna with a strange mixture of adoration and contempt. Slowly, the contempt seemed to be winning.
“Frederick,” she said, “I hate to ask anything of you after all this time ...” She steeled herself. “We need to find a way into the air. I was hoping you, or someone you know, might own a dirigible. Your father once had a beautiful aerial yacht—”
“I can’t believe you,” he said. “Shit. It’s all about you, isn’t it. You haven’t even asked about him. How he’s doing.”
She started. Blinked. “He’s ... alive?”
Frederick scoffed. “You don’t even know.”
“I thought ... he was poisoned ...”
“He was, but you know him. Tough as stone.”
“Who?” said Hildra. “Who’s tough as stone?”
Layanna didn’t answer. Frederick turned his attention to Hildra, letting his eyes rove up and down her. He seemed to like what he saw.
“My father,” he said.
“Where?” Layanna said. In a small voice, as if trying to control herself, she said, “Where is he?”