The New Day

by Lorraine Thomson

  “We have a message to deliver to the city rulers – let’s take it straight to them.”

  Was Brig truly remorseful about his past deeds? David wasn’t sure. Did he trust Brig? David wasn’t sure about that either. He had wrestled with the question ever since Brig said that he would come to Dinawl.

  In some ways David thought that yes, he did trust Brig. He trusted him to protect Eli. He believed Brig when he said he would help to warn the people of Dinawl about the invasion. Neither of those things took away from the fact that Brig had caused the profound misery in David’s life, but the attack on Amat hadn’t begun with Brig. Brig was merely a link in the chain that went all the way to the Monitors. Everything was so tangled, it hurt David’s head to think about it. Perhaps it was, after all, time to let go of the past, no matter how painful, and look to the future.

  The city walls loomed larger with every step they took, and the closer they drew, the more detailed the picture became. Up close, the detail was grim and the picture wasn’t pretty.

  David couldn’t tell if the Poor Market from the East Port had spread like a rash until it surrounded the South Gate, or if the jumble of stalls, barrows, tents and lean-tos had sprung up from the mud of its own accord.

  The snowfall hadn’t reached the lower plains yet but skies the colour of flint did no favours to Dinawl and its surrounding sprawl. Everything and everyone outside the wall was cast in the drab hues of slate and ash. The faces of the people looked as though they’d been carelessly moulded from scraps of dough and gone puffy from a meagre diet supplemented by too much Skullcracker.

  They poured forth and swarmed around the group like a cloud of shabby switch flies and buzzed them with their words.

  Need somewhere to stay? I know a place. My sister runs it. Very nice place. A little coin and I’ll take you there.

  Eat – you want to eat. I know a place. Good food. Cheap, cheap. I’ll take you there.

  You want wine? Baked rat? My wife – she cooks the finest baked rat.

  Looking for company? Come – meet my sister. She’s very friendly. Make you very welcome.

  First time in the city? Let me guide you. Keep you safe. Only a little coin.

  Brig growled at the hawkers as he swatted them aside. “Do I look as though I need to be kept safe?” He muttered under his breath at David. “Is this who we came to save?”

  “Maybe all the good ones have already left.” David was only half-joking.

  At the Gate, their way was barred by a phalanx of bailiffs dressed in black robes. Even for bailiffs, this lot were dour. One had particularly cold, hard eyes set in a face that looked as if it had never cracked a smile. But it was only when David heard the bailiff’s voice that he recognised him as the one who’d arrested him when he was fighting Clovis.

  “State your business.”

  “We have information for Niven,” David said.

  The bailiff peered at him. “I recognise you – you’re the tough guy who was scrapping with that mutant who got hung.” The bailiff looked at the group. “Still keeping poor company, I see. What do you want with Niven?”

  Brig stepped forward. “He already told you – we have information for him.”

  The bailiff drew his baton and prodded Brig with it. “Back in line, mutant.”

  David could feel Brig ready to erupt beside him, but Cyrus and Kala were already pulling him back and murmuring for him to settle down.

  “We should leave this lot to their fate,” Brig muttered.

  The bailiff eyed him. “What does he mean?” he asked David.

  “Our message is for Niven,” David said.

  The bailiff eyeballed him. “You’d better be for real, tough guy.”

  “More real than you’ll ever know.”

  The bailiff turned to his associates. “Order an escort squad for this lot and take them to the Palace.”

  He turned back to David. “I’m going to have eyes on you.”

  David stared at the bailiff, almost pitying him for having no idea what was coming. “Keep your eyes on the horizon,” he said.

  David noticed the change in Dinawl straight away. He’d sensed it outside the walls, but inside the city there was no mistaking it. The streets were as crowded as before but the mood was subdued.

  He saw no sign of thrall-bands, which was surely a good thing, but the faces of the people they passed told an ill story. They snatched furtive glances, and laughter, when he heard it at all, was brittle and quickly choked. There was no sign of the wealthy merchant class with their colourful robes. Some folk were cleaner and better presented than others, but all were dressed in drab as though they were trying to make themselves invisible.

  The group, flanked by an escort of bailiffs, drew whispers from the city’s dark, narrow alleys, but no-one called out to mock them or to ask the bailiffs who they were.

  Small clusters of people engaged in intense debate gathered at the end of streets, but when they saw the group approach, flanked by the bailiffs, they quickly dispersed, slinking around corners and disappearing into buildings. For their part, the bailiffs kept their lips tight and their thoughts to themselves.

  Sensing they were in a place ill at ease with itself, the group stuck closely together. Eli snuggled down so deep in his cocoon that only the top of his head was visible. There was little talk among them – even Olaf’s comments were few and far between – and when Lizbit edged into David’s side, he did not pull away. Whatever was going on in Dinawl, this was not the New Dawn promised by the Metro.

  The Palace was heavily guarded, but the bailiff escort gained them entrance. Then it was a wait. They were kept in a room with no fire in the hearth and bailiffs on the door.

  Kala eyed the tattered Before furnishings in the neglected room. A table with its polished surface dulled and scratched, chairs with their padding torn, carpets ripped and stained.

  “So, this is the Palace in the great Dinawl,” she said. She strutted around the room, taking its measure from flaking walls to cracked windows. “There’s more comfort to be found in any Zero’s shack on the edge of the Wastelands than here.”

  “And better company,” Cyrus said.

  “I was right in the first place,” Brig said. “Dinawl deserves to be wiped from the face of the Earth.”

  “Something’s rotten here for sure,” David said, “but it’s not the people’s fault. They’ve been lied to – sold a dream that was never going to come true.”

  “Strong words for one who fought for the cause then fled like a coward under the cover of dark.”

  David turned to see Niven standing in the door. His presence was as imposing as ever, but there were streaks of grey in his hair that hadn’t been there before and the deep etches in his face looked as though they’d been gouged with a knife.

  “I didn’t fight for this,” David said. “Have you been out there – have you seen the people?”

  “I am the people,” Niven snapped. He surveyed the group. “Where is Sorrel?”

  “I don’t know,” David said.

  Niven nodded. “These are the times in which we live. I was told you have information for me.”

  “Tell them what you told me.”

  Niven had taken David to a chamber larger and better cared for than the first. The old man, Sam, was sitting on a sofa, belly bulging, the bags beneath his eyes hanging even lower and deeper than before. A fire glowed in the hearth, but it would take more than a few burning logs to eradicate the deep chill running from the erect figure sitting beside it.

  Niven, Sam, the people David had seen in the streets, all looked as though the colour had been sucked out of them in the time since the New Dawn, but not Juno. If anything, the Monitor glowed more brightly than before, though perhaps that was only because the light in those surrounding her had dimmed.

  Her hair did not look grey, like Niven’s, but shone like silver. Niven’s presence was a dark weight in the room, but there was a vitality about Juno that drew the eye. Though she was be
autiful to look at and he could not stop staring, her serene face unnerved David. When her gaze grazed over him, he felt as though he had once more been coated in a blanket of snow.

  “We have come here to warn you of a vast army coming from the south.”

  Sam’s eyebrows shot up, but Juno’s face remained tranquil.

  “How do you know of this army?” she asked.

  “Ivan – one of our group – saw them.”

  “This Ivan – can he be trusted?”

  “He had nothing to gain by lying and everything to lose.”

  “Then tell us what you know.”

  “The Wastelands are expanding, eating into the valley where a group of mutants lived. Ivan was sent south to scout the land for a new place to settle. Five days walk south, he came across a group of travellers, only they weren’t travellers. They had come from a village to the south – a village that no longer existed. They told him about this army – about how it ate villages and townships as it went. There was talk of strange beasts and cruel ways. You either became them or were slaughtered by them – they fled their homes before they had to make that choice. Everything they had in the world, they carried on their backs.

  “Ivan kept walking and when he saw smoke rising into the sky to the south, he climbed to the top of a ridge – he said he had never seen so many people all at once. It was as though an entire city was on the move. And behind them, smoke rose from charred ground. This army – it is destroying everything in its path – and it is moving north.”

  “If they are coming north, no matter which route they take,” Sam muttered, “they will eventually come to Dinawl.”

  David looked around at the three of them. “I have no love for Dinawl – none of our group do – it is a place of lies and treachery – but there are good people here too – kind people – they deserve to know what’s coming their way. That’s why we’ve come. You need to warn them so that they can leave before the army gets here.”

  “We’re still recovering from the loss of the mine – and now this.” Niven ran his hand over his head.

  The bags under Sam’s eyes quivered as he shook his head. “There are rumblings on the street. The people are in a rebellious mood.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Niven snapped.

  “The timing is unfortunate,” Juno said. “We have lost the strength of the mutants along with the wealth of the mine.”

  “You’re supposed to be my advisors!” Niven said, “and yet you offer no advice.”

  Juno looked at David. “Where is Sorrel?”

  First Niven, now Juno. They were obsessed with her, no doubt wanted to use her again. “I don’t know,” he said. Again. “Where’s Slade?” he shot back.

  “In prison,” Juno’s voice as cold as a deep midwinter frost, “for sedition.”

  “It was Slade who planned the mine explosion,” Sam said. “There were rumours that you and Sorrel were killed in it, though your bodies were never found. Now we know why.”

  David stared at Juno. Slade? It didn’t make sense. Nothing Slade had done that night suggested he knew there would be an explosion.

  Juno stared back at him, her expression giving no more away than the face of the moon.

  “Wait,” Niven said, “we can use this.” He began pacing the floor, words tumbling from his lips as he walked. “This is exactly what we need – something to distract the people from their gripes – something to focus their minds. What better focus than an invading force?” He stopped pacing and looked at them. “Leaving is not an option. Everyone stays. We fight together to defend our city. This is how we strengthen my leadership and unite Dinawl.”

  SORREL

  It was like the Wild Woods all over again. Around every crag and beyond each gully, Sorrel expected to catch sight of David, but time and again she was disappointed.

  “There are many trails through these mountains. They could have begun their journey at any number of points,” Einstein said.

  “Then this is hopeless.”

  Einstein shook his head. “No, not hopeless. I have been thinking on this. I do not believe the mountains are their destination. They could not live here. Not for long, especially with winter coming. Besides, the army will almost certainly come through the mountains rather than risk traversing the Wastelands. David knows that this is not a safe place to stay.”

  Sorrel looked up at the snowy peaks. “Then they are on a journey – heading north ahead of the army.”

  “I think so.”

  “Then we must do the same.”

  The trek through the mountains was long and weary, the journey made more miserable by the biting cold, the way more treacherous by snow. Even Tailwagger shivered through the night, but finally they were on the downward trek through the foothills on the other side.

  It was Einstein who spotted the remains of the campsite.

  “Look here.”

  On a flat rock a drawing had been marked with charcoal. Another heart containing the letters D and S and an arrow pointing to DINAWL.

  “Dinawl,” Einstein said.

  But Sorrel had already worked it out. “Now we know.”

  That there was activity going on outside the city walls was apparent from some distance, but it wasn’t until they drew close that Sorrel could see that a large squad of people was engaged in digging a massive trench longer than the wall was wide.

  She looked at Einstein. “They know the army is coming.”

  “Hey, you!” A man, one of the supervisors, approached them. His eyes sat close together at the top of a long, pointed nose. His face was pale, his nose worn red where he’d been wiping it on his sleeve. “What manner of creature is that?” He pointed at Tailwagger.

  “It’s a dog,” Sorrel said.

  “A dog? Is that right? Any good for eating?”

  “Absolutely not!” Sorrel said.

  “Alright, keep your hair on.” A drip formed at the end of his nose. He sniffed. “What’s your business?”

  “We’re looking for a friend,” Sorrel said.

  “If he’s here, he’ll be working. Everyone works – that’s the law.” He looked Einstein up and down. “Not many of your type left, not after what happened at the mine. There’s an amnesty on mutants now – plenty of work for a big lunk like you.”

  “What if I do not want to work?” Einstein asked.

  The man sniffed again. “I told you – everyone works.”

  “It is the law,” Einstein finished for him.

  The man wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Are you being funny?”

  “Ignore my friend,” Sorrel said, “he has no sense of humour.” She looked along the length of the trench. It was narrow and shallow in parts, but with every jab of every spade, it grew deeper and wider. “Is this to keep the army at bay?”

  The man stared at her. “What do you know about the army?”

  “I’ve seen it.”

  The man’s small eyes popped. “Hey, Gar,” he shouted over his shoulder, “this one reckons she’s seen the army.”

  Gar ran for the Gate and within moments a bailiff was looming over Sorrel. “What’s that?” He pointed at Tailwagger.

  “A dog – my dog.”

  The bailiff stared at Tailwagger. Tailwagger, who was sitting at Einstein’s feet, stared right back.

  “Strange kind of beast. The overseer says you’ve seen the army – is that right?”

  Sorrel nodded.

  “Come with me.”

  “Where to?”

  “The Palace.”

  He led them through the gates into the city. The streets rang with the sounds of sawing, hammering and banging. Orders were bellowed, messages relayed, instructions called. People queued in line at street corners to be fed bowls of broth served from vast vats simmering over braziers. A circle of children sitting on wooden stools took instruction on making arrows. It seemed that everyone, young, old, and every age in between, was engaged in a task. Though many stared at Tailwagger as they passe
d by, none approached them.

  “Sorrel!”

  Sorrel turned to see a young round-faced woman running across the street towards her. Sorrel gasped as she recognised her from Ulbroom.

  “Alice! What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you.” Alice glanced nervously at Einstein. “I’ve been here for weeks and had lost all hope – Sorrel –”

  “Enough chatter,” the bailiff said. “We’re on official business. Get back to your task.”

  “Please,” Alice said, “I’ll only take a moment.”

  The colour fell from Alice’s face as the bailiff drew his stick.

  She started to back off. “I’m going, I’m going.” She glanced at Sorrel. “I’m staying in a house on Mill Street – come find me – please.”

  “I will, I promise.” Sorrel turned to Einstein. “Do you remember her?”

  “I wish I did not,” Einstein said, “but I do.”

  “I wonder what she’s doing here.”

  Sorrel did not have long to wonder, for soon they were in the Palace and face-to-face with Niven.

  “It’s a dog,” Sorrel said before he could ask.

  “I thought they had all died.” He looked at Einstein. “I thought the same of you.”

  “I have Sorrel to thank for my life.”

  “And Slade,” Sorrel said.

  “Slade?” Niven said. “He was the cause of the explosion.”

  Sorrel frowned. “That can’t be – where is David?”

  “All in good time,” Niven said. “First you need to tell us everything you know about this army.”

  Niven listened intently as Sorrel relayed all that she knew.

  “So, this dog – it is one of theirs?” Niven looked at Tailwagger.

  Sorrel knelt and scratched Tailwagger’s ears. “Was,” she said. “She’s ours now. Can I see David?”

  “I’m here.”

  The sound of his voice caused a tremble to go through Sorrel. She could barely bring herself to look up in case her ears were deceiving her, but she had to look, she had to know.