by Terry Brooks
Cat headed directly for the stairs and the Lizards.
“Is this really necessary?” Logan asked, catching up and falling into step beside her.
She gave him a sideways glance. “Like I said, we are in the Senator’s territory. We are here at his sufferance. He considers it rude not to pay a courtesy visit. He says it is all part of the political process.”
Political process? Logan looked closely at the building ahead. “Was this a church once? A temple of some kind?”
She shrugged. “It belongs to the Senator now. He uses it to conduct debates and pass laws. He uses it as a forum to speak to his constituents.”
He gave a mental shake of his head and let the matter drop as they began to climb the steps toward the huge doors. When they got to within a dozen feet, one of the Lizards came forward to speak with Cat. She answered briefly and turned to him.
“You aren’t carrying any weapons, are you? The staff is all you have?”
He nodded.
“Because if you are and they find out, they will kill you on the spot. There have been several assassination attempts on the Senator already this year.”
“Nothing but the staff,” he reaffirmed.
She said something more to the Lizard, and it nodded and stepped back. A second pair of Lizards, stationed to either side of the entrance, pulled down on the door handles to open them.
Logan and the girl stepped inside.
And into another world.
Rows of benches faced a dais filled with a strange collection of statues and hangings and artifacts. There were cases stocked with ancient, leather-bound books, their spines an identical mix of red and gold, lined up in symmetrical rows. There were pictures and paintings of people who were dressed in clothes from an earlier time. A huge wooden cross hung from the wall at the back of the room, its arms draped with silk streamers. The statues were of iron and marble, some of men and women posing, some of strange creatures with bodies half human and half animal. One statue was of a woman blindfolded and holding forth a set of scales. One wall was covered with old clocks that no longer worked, but all of their hands pointed straight up.
There were stuffed animals of all sorts. There were flags that Logan didn’t recognize, streamers and banners and pieces of old cloth, all nailed to the walls or hung from the ceiling. A huge old desk and chair sat to one side and forward of the motley collection, its scarred surface covered with papers and more books. Lizards with weapons warded the stairs that led onto the dais from either side, and these carried stun guns and dart launchers. The benches were crowded with people—humans and Freaks alike—their faces uplifted and their eyes directed toward the dais and the speaker who addressed them, his voice rolling out over the assemblage, deep and powerful.
“We are the future, and we must embrace our destiny. We are the promise of our forefathers, the bearers of their laws and their vision, come together in this darkest of times, in this deepest of glooms, to bring light to a troubled world. We must never forget our mission. We must stay the course.”
The speaker was short and squat, and from the sound of his voice, male, but his species was virtually unidentifiable. He stood upright, but just barely. He had arms and legs, but the arms were truncated and the legs misshapen. His reptilian hide suggested that he was a Lizard, but there were patches of dark skin, as well, and clumps of hair sprouted from his torso and head like saw grass from a barren field. His face was so scrunched up and twisted that it was difficult to identify individual features. He stood center stage, his short arms gesturing dramatically as he spoke, his head tilting and nodding for emphasis. It was the voice alone that seemed most normal to Logan, the voice of a practiced speaker, of an orator of great skill and confidence.
Of a leader, Logan thought suddenly.
He leaned over. “The Senator?” he asked the girl.
She nodded. “Once an elected lawmaker, back when there were such things. He was one of many, but the rest are all gone. He is the last, and he carries on in the tradition, making and passing laws for the benefit of his constituents.” She looked at him and shook her head. “I don’t pretend to understand. But it seems to work. People come from all over to listen to him.”
The truncated arms waved in sharp motions. “We must never despair, my friends. We must never give in to our uncertainties and our fears. We must move forward, following the road that was laid before us by those who have gone ahead. We must act in a decent and reasonable way, and we must keep our goals before us, ever present, ever conscious of their importance to a civilized world. Because we are civilized and we are a world, though some would have it otherwise. Laws bind and define us. Order gives us purpose. This house of government provides the physical evidence of our societal resurgence, risen from the chaos and the murk.
“Look about you! Look upon the faces of your friends and neighbors and fellow believers. Look upon their faces and see the hope radiated there. We give one another that hope. We give one another the reassurance that our way of life, while changed, is not gone. There may be dark things seeking to pull us down, to drag us away to places where there is only pain and suffering. But that will not happen here. We are too strong for them! We are too powerful! Recite the words! Recite the Pledge!”
As one, the assemblage began to speak:
I pledge allegiance to the flag
And to the man we call the Senator
And to the Republic for which he stands
One people, under his law
With a brighter day promised for all.
The words rolled out across the chamber floor, strong and certain. Logan had no idea what they were supposed to accomplish or even what they meant. There was no Republic, no one rule or people, and probably no brighter day anytime soon, either. But the people gathered here obviously believed otherwise. There was no pause in the recitation of the words, no hint of doubt or confusion.
“My friends,” the Senator intoned, his squat, ugly form shambling back and forth across the dais now, his head bowed. “I will be offering new laws on the morrow and would ask all and sundry gathered here to come witness and participate in the political process. A public hearing will begin at noon. All speakers will be heard and their words honored. Our attention will be directed primarily to the equitable distribution of foodstuffs and water. Our stores are plentiful, but not inexhaustible.”
He wheeled about and spread his arms wide. “Hear ye, hear ye, this august body is dismissed and this legislative session terminated. Thanks and praise to all for the work done here; may it be forever recognized. You are dismissed. Go forth and be well.”
There was a long, sustained clapping from the audience, and then they began to rise and move toward the doors at the back of the room. Logan and Cat stepped aside to let them pass. Logan was struck by the fervor he saw in their faces. Even though to him it all seemed another variation on smoke and mirrors, they had obviously found something here to believe in.
The Senator had moved to his desk and taken a seat. A scattering of people had crowded forward and taken places on the closest benches, obviously waiting to be summoned to speak privately with him. But it was to Cat and Logan that he gestured, beckoning them forward from the back of the room.
“Come here, little kitten!” he boomed out. “Don’t hide in the shadows! And bring your big friend with you!”
They walked down the closest aisle to the dais and climbed the stairs to where the Senator sat behind his desk. He rose to embrace Cat, a sort of quick half hug that was over almost before it began. A perfunctory act, Logan decided. A tradition that was not necessarily indicative of any true feelings.
Nevertheless, Cat was smiling. “Your words give hope, as always,” she said.
“A poor effort from a poor public servant. But what else do I have to offer?” The mouth was shoved to one side in his lumpy face, twisted and scarred like the rest of his features. But his voice was strong and compelling. His one good eye shifted to Logan. “You’ve made a new frien
d?”
“This is Logan,” she said. “I found him on his way into the city. He was heading for the compound.”
“No, no, no, Logan,” the Senator declared grimly. His ruined face twisted into something new. “You don’t want to go there. You don’t want to have anything to do with those people. They are selfish and greedy. They are evil.”
“They are probably scared,” Logan said.
The Senator smiled crookedly. “Why are you here?”
“He needs plague medicine for sick children,” Cat answered quickly. “I told him I would share what we have.”
“Sick children? Where are you taking them?”
Logan hesitated. “That’s a difficult question to answer. I’m still not sure. I’m searching for their home.”
The Senator’s gnarled features tightened. “Why not here? We have space for new arrivals. We have homes that can be opened to those seeking shelter.” He paused. “Or are we not a suitable choice?”
“He already has a destination,” Cat interjected, giving a dismissive shrug to the suggestion. “Besides, he is not a constituent. He is a traveler passing through.”
The Senator stared at her. “You seem to have taken an unusual degree of interest in our friend, little kitten. Is there something you are not telling me?”
She gave him an exasperated-little-girl look. “Please don’t treat me like a child. I am doing for Logan what I would do for any visitor requiring help. You have said over and over again that medical care for children is central to your political platform. Why is this suddenly a problem?”
The Senator seemed to consider this, his good eye fixed on her, unmoving and unblinking. Then he nodded. “It isn’t a problem, little kitten. As you say, we are here to help all who ask for it. We are not like those in the compound.” He pointed at her. “See that he finds what he needs. But remember our bargain.”
The girl nodded and said quietly, “You don’t need to remind me.”
The Senator eyed her sharply, and Logan wondered what they were talking about. He said, “I appreciate your help.”
The Senator’s gaze fixed on him. “I think you’ll need more help than I can give you.”
Logan stared at him uncertainly.
“Even here, even though we are Freaks, we have heard of those who carry the black staffs with the strange carvings. We have heard of the power you possess and the fear you inspire in your enemies. We could use a man of your talents should you change your mind and choose to stay.”
Logan shook his head. “I am not my own master in this business. I go where I am sent.”
Cat was looking at him in surprise, but she kept silent. The Senator’s mouth shaped itself into a crooked smile. “Maybe you were sent to us.”
“It would shorten my journey considerably,” Logan answered him, smiling back. “But I’m afraid I have to go on.”
“Then you had better get started,” the Senator declared, and waved him away dismissively.
TWO OF THE SENATOR’S LIZARD bodyguards followed them as they walked from the temple hall and into the darkness once more.
“Don’t say anything,” the girl told him quietly.
She took the lead, walking them back down the street they had just come up and then off to the west and into a district of collapsed buildings. Mounds of debris and rubble covered what must have been dozens of square blocks. The entire area had the look of a war zone, and for as far as Logan could see in the moonlight there was nothing standing that was even halfway whole.
They were well into the center of the rubble, an unfathomable maze, when the girl turned into an opening between two partially collapsed walls and moved to a door that sagged open and splintered on its broken hinges. She stepped through the entrance into a room partially lit by moonlight that streamed down through a collapsed roof. Logan followed, but the Lizards remained outside. Debris lay in heaps against the walls and in the corner spaces. Without a word, she began pulling away stones and pieces of wood from one such pile. Logan was quick to help her, and within minutes they had uncovered a trapdoor.
Logan started to say something, but the girl quickly put a finger to her lips and pointed at the door. Together they heaved upward on the iron ring, and the door opened on a set of stone steps leading to a cellar.
Cat went down the steps first, with Logan right behind. The Lizards made no move to follow, standing with their backs to the entry, staring out at the night.
“The Lizards are said to be family,” she told him once they were all the way into the cellar, speaking softly so that only he could hear. “I don’t know if it’s true or not, but they are fiercely loyal. Several have died for him during the assassination attempts.”
“Who tried to assassinate him?” Logan wanted to know.
The girl shrugged. “People from the compound, mostly. Fanatics who think all Freaks are dangerous and should be eliminated. Some blame the Freaks for what has happened to the world in general.” She shook her head. “Some just need to find a way to make someone—anyone—pay for what has happened to them.”
She reached into the darkness and switched on a solar-powered torch. “Not that the Senator hasn’t brought much of it on himself. He’s as dangerous as the things he claims to protect his constituents from. He might even try to kill you.”
Logan grabbed her arm. “Kill me? Why?”
“He doesn’t like you.”
She tried to pull away, but he held on to her. “Wait a minute. What are you talking about?”
She glared at him. “You’d better let me go if you want to get out of this in one piece.”
“I’m not the one who got me into this. You are. Tell me what this is all about, Cat. Right now.”
She held her ground, shaking her head slowly. “You won’t take me with you if I do.”
He heard the despair in her voice, and he softened his own. “Just tell me, please.”
She was silent for a moment, and then she said, “It’s because of me. He owns me.”
At first, Logan didn’t think he heard her right. “He owns you?” he repeated, trying to make sure.
“That was the bargain I made with him when he took me in. He agreed to give me food and shelter, but in return I became his property. He said it was an old tradition dating back to the beginning of politics. He said I would belong to him until I paid my debt.” She looked down at her feet and sighed. “I agreed. I was desperate. I was starving, and I knew I was going to die.” She paused. “I guess I would have done just about anything.”
The way she said it suggested to Logan that maybe she had. He felt a tightening in his throat and a sudden anger. “So he doesn’t want to give you up. That was what he was talking about back in the hall when he reminded you of your bargain. He thinks you might try to leave with me.”
She nodded, saying nothing.
“And all that business about being saved by a family of Lizards who took you in when you were exiled from the compound was just something you made up?”
She shrugged, not looking at him.
He released her arm and looked around at the room, which was filled with boxes of all shapes and sizes. “Is the Cyclomopensia here? Or did you make that up, too?”
She tightened her lips and walked over to one set of boxes, peeled back the covering, reached in, and pulled out half a dozen packets. She handed them to him. “Enough for a month’s treatment. I wasn’t lying. I know about medicines. I was put in charge of the medical supplies because I had some experience in the compound. They don’t use them much out here. Their immune systems changed when they became Lizards. But there are humans among us, too. Street people. I treat them when they get sick. Sometimes, I trade medicines to the compound for stuff we need. But the Senator doesn’t like me doing that, no matter what. He hates the compound people.”
Logan glanced around. “Are all these boxes filled with medicines?” She nodded. “Okay. Pack up the ones you think will do the most good. We’ll take them, too.”
S
he stared at him. “Are you still taking me with you?”
“Why? Do you think I should leave you behind? I thought we made a bargain.”
“They’ll try to stop you. They might even try to kill you. I wasn’t making that up.”
“Just do what I told you.”
She began gathering packets from various boxes, stuffing them into pockets sewn inside her cloak. She worked quickly and without talking while he made another quick survey of the room, keeping one eye on the open doorway. If they intended to kill him, they would do so when he emerged, thinking to get to him before he could even think to defend himself. The Senator would have told them who and what he was, would have warned them about his staff, would have told them to act quickly.
He shook his head.
He saw a second door at the back of the room.
“What’s behind that door?” he asked her.
She stopped what she was doing and looked to where he was pointing. “Nothing. Another room, but it’s empty. Sealed, too. The Senator fused the locks to make sure there was only one entry. If we try to break them, the guards will hear and call for help.”
“What if they don’t hear?”
He walked over to the door, laid his staff against the hinges, and summoned the magic. In seconds, the fire had burned through the iron clasps and the door was hanging open. Debris blocked the way through from the other side, but gave before him as he pushed past it. The room beyond was cavernous, but mostly empty. It might have been the basement level of a warehouse in an earlier time, but whatever had been stored there was long gone.
On the far side of the room, a broad roll-up door stood open at the top of a ramp.
“Are you finished?” he asked her.
She nodded and walked over to join him. “How did you do that?”
He gave her mottled face a deliberate stare. “My special staff.”
They moved past the debris and through the room to the roll-up door. Logan took a moment to be certain the Lizards hadn’t guessed what he might do, but he did not sense their presence. Nor did he detect any danger. He stepped through the opening, the girl right behind, and was back outside.