The New Day

by Lorraine Thomson

  Slade led them to a dark, dank alley not far from the market place. Unseen creatures scrabbled further into the dark as the group followed Slade into the narrow passage.

  Sorrel didn’t notice the door set flush in the scabrous wall until Slade stopped in front of it. He felt in the wall above the lintel and removed a loose stone, then retrieved a key.

  The door opened straight onto a steep, narrow staircase. Slade told them to go right to the room at the top while he locked the door behind them. After climbing four flights of stairs, they crowded into an attic room. Small, grimy windows overlooked a vista of rooftops.

  “What is this place?” Sorrel asked when Slade joined them.

  “A safe house,” he replied. He looked around at the group, not bothering to hide the fact that he was sizing them up. “Can I trust them?” he asked Sorrel.

  She glanced at Olaf and Ivan. Olaf gave her an indignant look in return.

  “I’ll vouch for that pair,” Brig said.

  “You can trust everyone here, with one exception.” Sorrel looked at Yolanda. “I know what you’ve just been through – but you were very close to Niven for a long time.”

  Yolanda snorted. “I was, but no longer. Believe me, if you are against Niven, then I’m on your side.”

  Slade looked them over one more time before giving a curt nod. “Fair enough. If I don’t take a chance on you, we’re all dead anyway.”

  “Perhaps it is us taking a chance on you,” Einstein said. “It is, after all, your people who are marching on Dinawl.”

  “Are you forgetting that I too was about to have my head chopped off?”

  “Not forgetting,” Einstein said, “but loyalty is a strange beast. Yours may have been tested, but perhaps it is still intact?”

  Slade gave a curt nod. “Tested to the limit. The army marching on Dinawl are no more my people than yours. I belong nowhere.”

  “Then you have found your tribe.” Cyrus grinned. “Welcome to the Zeros.”

  Slade did not smile back.

  “Why did they put you in jail?” Sorrel asked.

  “I had one purpose, “Slade said, “to protect Juno. And I did so without doubt for many years. But lately, her actions have troubled me. When I began to question what she was doing, she turned on me. She accused me of blowing up the mine and had me thrown in jail. I was seen leaving after the explosion, and so it was easy for her to convince others.”

  “I knew you didn’t do it,” Sorrel said, “but who did?”

  “Juno – she wanted to destabilise Niven’s hold on the city.”

  “It worked,” Yolanda said. “After the mine blew up, he turned to her more and more for advice. For years, he had fought her and suddenly he was entranced by her.”

  “Perhaps it was power he was entranced by,” Einstein said.

  Yolanda nodded. “Perhaps so. Sam and I – who had been loyal all this time – counted for nothing. When we tried to caution him, he had us thrown in jail. Poor Sam – he had his flaws, but he didn’t deserve to die like that.”

  “No-one does,” Einstein said.

  “She sent us to the mine that night knowing there was going to be an explosion,” Sorrel said. “She didn’t expect us to survive.”

  “Getting rid of the thorns in her side would have been a bonus to destabilising Niven’s rule,” Slade said. “There’s worse to come, if Juno gets her way. Niven thinks he’s in for a life of power and wealth, but he won’t be allowed to live. When the army gets to the gates of Dinawl, he’ll be slaughtered along with every other person here.”

  “But why?” Sorrel asked. “The farms will produce enough food for everyone.”

  “They believe everyone living on the surface for all this time is mutated. As far as they’re concerned, you’re all mutants, and they fear and despise you for it.”

  Brig snorted. “Funny when you think about it.”

  “Not really,” Yolanda said.

  “They’ve been planning this for generations,” Slade continued. “They’ll wipe you out and inherit the earth. Dinawl, all the fertile land for miles around. They won’t stop until they control it all and then they will push beyond.”

  “You would have inherited it along with them,” Einstein said. “Why the change of heart?”

  “I grew up believing surface dwellers were an unclean pestilence, that to make the earth habitable again, you would have to be wiped out.”

  Sorrel looked at David. “Just like we were told that all mutants were evil and had to be killed at birth.”

  “That kind of thinking is not so unusual,” Slade said. “The difference is that in our world, only the Monitors are permitted to have children.”

  “What happens if someone else falls pregnant?” Sorrel asked.

  Slade’s voice took on an increasingly bitter tone. “The offspring are called mistakes and killed in the womb.”

  How, Sorrel wondered, then, looking at Slade’s face, she decided she didn’t want to know. Slade had spoken as if he had personal knowledge of mistakes and no-one uttered a word until he himself broke the silence.

  “The pity is, the Monitors have so much knowledge, they could make life better for everyone, but they want it all for themselves.”

  “How do we stop them?” Cyrus asked.

  Slade went to the side of the room and prised up a short section of floorboard. He reached in under the floor, pulled out a sack and emptied the contents on the floor.

  “We start with this.”

  “What is it?” Sorrel asked.

  “A gun,” Slade said.

  “It is a killing machine,” Einstein said. “Something better left in the Before times.”

  “Perhaps,” Slade said, “but the Monitors have them and they will use them.”

  Slade explained how the gun could be used to kill people from a distance. He checked to make sure it wasn’t loaded then passed it around the group.

  “It’s heavy,” Sorrel said. “Much heavier than it looks.”

  “It’s like sorcery,” Kala said.

  “There’s nothing magical about it,” Slade replied, “but it is efficient.”

  “How many do they have?” Cyrus asked.

  “One hundred, give or take, and the ammo – bullets – to go with them.”

  “One hundred!” Sorrel said. “How can we possibly fight them with only one?”

  “We don’t take on the whole army,” Slade replied. “We start with the enemy within.”

  16.

  The Wall

  The group returned to the Palace, Slade and Yolanda now among their number. They would not be able to risk plotting in the room, but they would have the advantage of being able to hide in plain sight. If Niven’s thugs managed to trace them to Slade’s safe house, they could be slaughtered without anyone knowing a thing, and their bodies disappeared. But he would not risk retribution in front of so many who had witnessed him pardon the pair.

  As well as the protection the palace afforded, they needed to be close to Niven and Juno, and of course, Eli. Slade had a few friends still among the bailiffs and hangers-on, and many were loose with their tongues. Being in the palace would give him access to the information they needed.

  The people of Dinawl were fickle at the best of times, and these were not the best of times. With the imminent arrival of the invaders, a strange, feverish mood pervaded the city. Though it was hard to gauge how much real support either of them really had, Sorrel and Yolanda caught many looks of approval and several encouraging shout-outs on the streets.

  “They need hope wherever they can find it,” Sorrel murmured to Yolanda.

  “Don’t we all,” Yolanda replied.

  She had woven her hair into a thick, loose plait, and although she still looked as though she’d been sleeping in a ditch, at least her hair did not look as though it was trying to escape her head.

  The two had fallen in step with each other, and now the question that had been in Sorrel’s mind, bubbled to her lips.

 
; “I…” Sorrel hesitated.

  “Go on,” Yolanda said.

  “I wanted to ask you about Niven.”

  “About him turning on me? If I was you, I’d want to know too. Ask away.”

  “What happened?”

  “Ha!” Yolanda gave a sharp laugh. “It was quite something, wasn’t it? Truth be told, I’ve seen him turn on many people over the years. I thought I was different, but when Juno switched on her charm, she dazzled him, and he could see nothing else. He was blinded to everything we had. As far as I’m concerned, Niven can rot – they both can. What really hurts is Willow.”

  “Was she dazzled by Juno too?”

  “That girl is dazzled by power. And now that she has some, she’s dangerous. The animal she’s dragging around with her – I hear it belonged to you?”

  “Tailwagger? Yes, Willow took her.”

  “And there was nothing you could do about it, huh? If I had any coin to bet, I’d put it all on her taking the beast because she could, not because she wanted it.”

  Back at the palace, they were pulled up by a red-collared bailiff. “Why aren’t you working?”

  “Recovering from almost losing my head. Reporting for duty now, sir,” Slade replied.

  The bailiff scowled at him. “Fine excuse. Get to the South Gate. Tell them I’ve sent you lot to help with the wall reinforcements.”

  “Can you tell me where my brother is?” Sorrel asked. She spoke politely, treating the bailiff with the deference he craved. “He’s only little – he was in Niven’s care.”

  The bailiff’s eyes narrowed. “You’re the one who made the speech.” He glanced at Slade. “You’re lucky she was there.”

  “I am,” Slade agreed.

  The bailiff’s face softened slightly. “Your brother is in the jailhouse along with all the other children too young to work.”

  “The jailhouse?”

  “It’s for their own protection – where better?”

  To that, Sorrel had no answer.

  At the Gate, they were split up and assigned to work teams on different parts of the wall. Sorrel was grouped with Slade and Einstein.

  The wall was made up of an odd collection of stone, metal and earth. In parts, it looked as though it had been thought out, planned even; in other places, it appeared to have been cobbled together out of whatever first came to hand. It was framed by huge chunks of stonework, remnants from Before, some crumbling, some looking as though they’d still be standing in another thousand years. Planks of wood, patches of brick wall, packed earth, and sheets of metal filled the gaps between the chunks of masonry.

  A wooden scaffold had been erected and reinforcing material was carried up the ladders to the platforms where it was hammered, bricked, glued and nailed over gaps and weak spots.

  More workers toiled below the scaffold, shoring up the foundations of the wall with rubble and packed earth.

  The Great Trench had been abandoned; the people now worked only within the city. Everyone worked, everyone was kept busy, hands and minds occupied so that they had no time to dwell on what was coming their way. Doing something made them feel secure and so they did their master’s bidding willingly.

  Despite the graft, despite the idea of working as one, the odd, febrile mood, which had been hanging over the city since the appearance of the army, intensified as the sun sank low in the sky and darkness threatened. Those working on the scaffold paused more often in their work to peer over the wall at the looming army.

  Sorrel had wondered if, in her mind, she had exaggerated its size; the shock of catching sight of it so unexpectedly could easily have led her to think it greater than it really was. But when she saw the dark mass crossing the moor towards Dinawl, she was in awe again at its vastness.

  Slade and Einstein watched with her.

  “How many?” she asked.

  “At least as many as are in Dinawl,” Einstein said.

  “At least,” Slade agreed.

  They worked until there was not enough light to see by. Dinawl’s sun-powered lamps did not cover the south wall. Besides which, the workers needed a rest, for who knew what the new dawn would bring?

  The workers were issued with tokens to exchange for food at the mass kitchen. The meal consisted of soup, a whole cooked rat on a stick, boiled greens and a hunk of bread.

  “I recognised the axe-man,” David said.

  “How do you recognise a man with a hood over his head?” Kala asked.

  “By the scars on his arms,” David replied. “It was Quirke, the blacksmith. He made the thrall band I was forced to wear.”

  “Quirke,” Lizbit repeated.

  Sorrel picked a few strands of meat from her rat, but left them on her plate.

  “Not hungry?” David asked.

  “Not for this.”

  “It’s not so bad and you need to keep your strength up. Think of it as a bat without wings.”

  Sorrel looked at her plate. All she could think about was the vast stream of the bristle-furred creatures she had seen fleeing the Dregs on the night of the fire, their long, hairless tails flowing behind them.

  “Bats don’t have tails,” she said.

  “Best part.” Brig pulled the tail from his rat and chewed on it.

  “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.” Olaf stretched his hand across the table to Sorrel’s plate.

  Brig slapped his hand on top of Olaf’s. “At least swap your bread for it,” he growled.

  Olaf’s face puckered for a moment, but then he considered the plump rat on Sorrel’s plate and the lump of bread on his own.

  “Swapsies?”

  Exhausted by the hard graft, and knowing that Eli was as safe as he could be, Sorrel slept soundly enough. She was awoken before dawn’s arrival by David shaking her shoulder.

  “What is it?”

  “We’re going to the wall.”

  Though they were early, a smattering of others had arrived before them. Still, they were early enough to claim a space on the scaffold not far from the South Gate. Slade stood at the wall with Yolanda, Sorrel and David, with the others forming a protective shield around them.

  More people arrived as the sun crept closer to the horizon. Those who could not find a space on the scaffold, stood silently below, and all of them waited for the light of day to describe what lay beyond.

  The army emerged from the shadows as dawn broke in the east. They had massed along the far side of the trench and stood in orderly blocks and lines, some of them with dogs standing alertly beside them. All of them, people and animals alike, silently faced the city. The only sound emanating from this vast assembly was the beat of hammers coming from a squad building a simple bridge over the ditch.

  The scene inside the city walls was almost as hushed. Information was whispered from the ramparts to those waiting below. The news murmured through the crowd, everyone listening, no-one wanting to miss a thing. It was as though the entire city was holding its breath.

  On the other side of the South Gate from Sorrel and her friends, Niven, Juno and Willow stood erect and still. They stood apart from the people, bailiffs behind and to either side of them, and more on the ground below.

  Sorrel marvelled at how impassive Niven and Willow’s faces were. She wondered if Juno had been coaching them in the ways of the Monitors, almost smiling at the thought of them practicing looking serene. Her smile stopped dead as she wondered if they thought they had actually become Monitors.

  Slade nudged her, and she turned her attention back to the activity at the trench.

  “Here we go,” David murmured.

  The bridge completed, the building squad stood back as it was inspected by two others. The two conferred and passed judgement. Their work approved, the squad packed up their gear and disappeared into the ranks.

  A few moments later, a movement deep within the army caught Sorrel’s attention. She was not sure at first what she was looking at, but it soon became clear that three figures were approaching the front line. T
hey seemed to glide rather than walk and Sorrel was reminded of the first time she had laid eyes on Juno, Otto and Andre in the hanging field on the north side of the city. Behind these three followed a further procession of Monitors, all walking three abreast.

  The head trio stopped short of the trench and seemed to gaze directly at the spot where Juno stood with Niven and Willow. There was no movement, not in the massed army, not in Dinawl. Sensing that something was up, even the crowd waiting below did not stir. For those moments, the world held its breath.

  Then, as one, the three Monitors looked to the left. A figure stepped forward from the ranks and unfurled a white flag.

  As the figure approached, Sorrel saw that it was a woman. She crossed the bridge and walked up to within hailing distance, waving the flag back and forth as she did so.

  Sorrel looked to Slade for an explanation.

  “It means hold fire – she has a message to deliver.”

  Close to the gate, and with a clear eyeline to where Niven stood with Juno and Willow, the woman planted the flag in the earth.

  Murmurs arose in the Dinawl crowd as word circulated down from the wall. They hushed down when the flag woman called out.

  “I come unarmed.” She held her arms out, palms up. “I come only to deliver a message.”

  “Deliver your message,” Niven called out.

  “Do you have among your number the Monitors Juno, Otto and Andre?”

  “I am Juno,” Juno said. “Otto and Andre are no longer among us. Dinawl is ruled instead by Juno, Niven and Willow.”

  The flag-bearer dipped her head in acknowledgement. “Our leaders desire peace and extend to Juno, Niven and Willow, an invitation to parley.”

  “We accept,” Juno said.

  “What does parley mean?” Sorrel asked.

  “It is an invitation to talk,” Einstein replied.

  “With two words, Juno has sentenced everyone in Dinawl to death,” Sorrel said.