by Ros Baxter
Lecanora moved towards Larry and extended her fingers towards his eyes. He went to shake her hand, and she remembered the ritual just in time.
‘It is very nice to meet you, Lecanora,’ he said, staring at her for a long moment before turning back to Lunia. ‘Man,’ he said, whistling. ‘They really know how to build ‘em, where you guys are from.’ It sounded like a compliment to Lecanora, so she smiled. He stood closer to her. ‘Can I check you over?’
Lecanora frowned. ‘What for?’
Rania sighed. ‘He knows, babe,’ she said, running a hand over her eyes. ‘It’s okay.’
Lecanora fired a message deep into Rania’s brain. He knows? You broke the code?
Rania nodded. He can be trusted. And we need him. He…he examined Cleedaline.
Lecanora nodded. In one swift movement, she shook off the tiny nightgown she had been sleeping in, and stood before Larry, naked.
The older man stepped back, almost crashing into Lunia. ‘Jesus,’ he said, lowering his face and flapping a hand at her. ‘I can do it with the…thing…on. It’s fine, Lecanora. Get dressed. It was your ears I really wanted to check out.’
‘Oh.’ The Princess tried to understand the source of his discomfort. He was a healer, and she had bruises, and other superficial injuries. She had assumed he would want to see them. ‘As you wish.’ She pulled the nightgown back up.
Larry gently guided her into a squishy armchair by the window, dragging a worn leather bag closer and extracting what looked like a tiny penlight. He turned her head slightly and tucked her hair behind her ears. He spent a couple of minutes peering into first one ear, then the other.
Finally, he snapped the light off. ‘Fine,’ he grunted. ‘Swelling, redness. No damage, far’s I can tell.’
‘Thank you, Larry,’ Lecanora said, and gave him a smile she felt right from her toes up.
Larry blinked a few times in response, and turned back to Rania and Lunia. ‘I feel like I’ve just been blessed by a Queen.’
‘You have.’ Rania sniffed, patting the seat beside her and motioning for Lecanora to come close. ‘Siddown, babe. I’ve been filling them in.’
As Lecanora moved to the couch, a pounding on the door startled them all. Larry jumped up and reached for his bag, extracting something that looked far from medicinal. Rania, too, leaped from her seat and magicked a weapon from some place close. The two of them moved to the door slowly, as though following the steps to some old, familiar dance. Lunia looked quickly at Mrs Tripe.
The old lady shrugged. ‘Nothing on my radar,’ she said.
Rania moved to the door like a manta ray, seeming to almost glide, and holding the slick black weapon aloft. ‘Who’s there?’ she barked.
There was no answer. She made a series of motions to Larry, who took the other side of the doorjamb as Rania went to open it. Lunia dragged Lecanora and Mrs Tripe into the kitchen where they could see the scene unfold but not be observed.
Rania called again, ‘Who is it?’ She was pressed against the wall on one side of the door, Larry on the other.
Another thump, and then silence.
Slowly, Rania unlatched the door and opened it.
A huge, shirtless body slid to the ground at her feet.
Chapter 4
Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go
Rania stowed her weapon in the back pocket of the pants she was wearing, and dropped to the floor. ‘Man,’ she said, shutting the door and motioning for the other women to come back through from the kitchen. ‘Why do I always have this effect on men?’
Larry laughed, a deep, guffaw that Lecanora found strangely comforting. He knelt down next to Rania, and placed two fingers on the fallen man’s neck, before prizing open one eyelid and peering at what he saw. ‘I hate to break it you, toots,’ he said, kneeling back on his haunches and looking at Rania. ‘But I think this time it may be something a little more serious than your fatal charm.’
Rania shook her head and grinned. ‘You think?’
Lecanora surveyed the scene. The shirtless man was tall and blonde. And very young. No more than seventeen Land years. He wore only tight, jodhpur-style black pants that ended at the knee, and he was barefoot. And he was enormous, without being hulking. He was an Aegiran, but Lecanora didn’t recognize him. ‘Is he dead?’
Larry shook his craggy grey head. ‘No. But he’s out cold. And he’s clammy as hell. And, in case you hadn’t noticed, kinda huge. Help me get him onto the couch, Rania.’
‘I got it,’ Rania said, crouching forward and placing her hands under the man’s arms before lifting him and carrying him over to the couch, like a mother dog with a puppy.
‘Okay,’ Larry said, shaking his head. ‘So I guess you got it.’ He followed her over to the couch, reaching for his worn doctor’s bag and kneeling beside the inert man. The four women gathered around him in a tight circle. Larry peered up at them. ‘Er…do you think you could give me a little space here?’
Lunia inclined her head at him. ‘Of course, Larry, my apologies.’ She clapped her hands. ‘Into the kitchen, women.’
Lecanora followed the others into the warm, comforting space. A plain wooden table sat in its center, and soft candles burned low. She settled herself into a seat next to Rania, who took her hand. ‘You okay, babe?’
Lecanora searched her heart in the time-honored way. ‘I…’ She tried again.
It was so hard to unpick all the feelings. She was not used to such complexity.
In Aegira, the world was simple. The rules were known, and everyone abided by them. Not because there were sanctions, but because there was consensus. They were fish in a school. Harmony required them all to think and move as one. What were they without their consensus, but flotsam on the waves, driven this way and that by the currents? And yet, today, the things that had happened today had put a lie to that. They had been blasted off the road, almost killed. Hunted in the forests by brains that sought to cause pain and death, and now this. Hunted by Aegirans. Followed by her fellow citizens, those her mother had spent a thousand years serving. And that she, in turn, would also serve.
She should have been angry. She had reached for the emotion, but could not find it. Instead, she had felt a dull ache at the sight of the young, shirtless Aegiran man, slumped in Rania’s doorway. He looked so young, so lost, and so far from home. She had wanted to go to him, give him the kiss of life, make his eyes open and ask him what he was doing, what he was thinking. She was curious, but even more she felt a deep, dragging sadness for him, so far from his home and his school, washed up on The Land. A stranger here, just like her.
She became aware of the eyes of the three women upon her. She swallowed, realizing in a detached, clinical way that she needed to drink, that she must remember how important it was to take water in this dry place. ‘Yes,’ she said, clearing her throat. ‘You do not need to worry about me. I am just trying to make sense of all the pieces of this.’ She turned to Lunia. ‘Do you know him? Have you seen him before?’
Lunia shook her head, and turned to Mrs Tripe, taking her hand. ‘What do you know of this, mother?’ she asked. ‘You did not feel him coming?’
The old woman shook her head, her small, lined face seeming older than when Lecanora had first seen her, sitting by the bed. ‘No, I saw nothing of this,’ she said. ‘I can only think that this boy came here with no ill intent, because I am very certain I would have felt it if he had. I was charged by you to look for ill will, Lunia, and I would have discerned it. Or perhaps this boy does have bad intentions, but because of his state he was incapable of acting upon them. And so he was invisible to me.’
Lunia pushed her chair out and got up, switching on machines and fetching cups and milk. The women sat in silence while she prepared tea and toast. Soon, sweet, spicy smells filled the kitchen, and Lunia laid hot buttered toast, some kind of cake, and blue-spotted muffins before them. Lecanora’s eyes widened at the unusual display.
Rania patted her hand. ‘Comfort food, babe,’ she said,
smiling. ‘Get used to it. Important for both minor and major crises. Broken hearts, broken limbs, and scary apocalyptic prophesies out to kill you.’
Lecanora reached for one of the blue-speckled muffins close to her. She was suddenly aware of how empty her stomach was, how long it had been since the fries she had eaten back in Rania’s car—the ones from the piscineavore restaurant. Her stomach made a strange noise as she lifted the cake to her mouth.
She watched Rania push a button on a small rectangular black box, and a tiny box on top of the fridge leapt into life. Lecanora bit into the soft, crumbly thing, and a riot of taste and sensation assaulted her mouth. Rania pushed buttons in a seemingly random fashion and the box leapt between images, the noises seeming to merge into one riot of ugly sound. Of course, television. It made Lecanora’s brain hurt. How could Rania bear it? How could she even distinguish between the sounds? Then, a sweet rush hit her as the food met her bloodstream and she licked crumbs off her lips, finding herself murmuring, ‘What is this food? It is so good.’
Quickly, she finished the muffin and then ate another, finding an unchecked greed had overtaken her. She reached next for two pieces of the toast, which seemed to have raisins in it, and was covered in thick yellow butter. She gulped them ferociously, before turning her attention to the cake.
Mrs Tripe smiled at her. ‘Oh, you’re going to like that one, honey,’ she said. ‘Coconut bread. Lunia’s renowned for it.’ Lecanora picked up a slice quickly and crammed the whole thing into her mouth.
Lunia, who had been making a pot of coffee over at the kitchen counter, turned to see her elder daughter swallowing the last pieces of cake, large crumbs falling from her mouth in her hurry to devour it. Lecanora felt shame wash over her at the display of excess as she wiped crumbs from her mouth.
‘Honey child,’ Lunia said, moving quickly from the counter to sit beside her daughter. ‘Did you like it?’ She picked up Lecanora’s hand.
Lecanora nodded. She was too ashamed to speak. Oh yes. What was Rania’s phrase? And then some.
‘I’m glad,’ her mother said, reaching her arms and wrapping Lecanora in them. ‘Remember that Land food is very different from the food you are used to. It has more starch, more sugar and less roughage. It might make you sick.’
Lecanora felt her stomach clench. ‘Sick?’ She could not afford to be sick. She was here for a mission. She felt a greater shame rise within her. What if she became ill, like the young man on the couch? What if she compromised the outcome of all of this because of a momentary hunger-lust. She hung her head.
Lecanora patted her back. ‘Only a little,’ Lunia reassured her. ‘I don’t mean that the food will cripple you. It will be a slow thing. You will find you won’t operate at your peak if you eat too much of this kind of thing. Especially right away. You need to kind of…build up.’ She shot a look at Rania, who was intent on the television while shoving one piece of cake after another into her mouth, and rolled her eyes. ‘Rania, for example, has a whole lifetime of gluttony behind her. She’s a seasoned campaigner.’ She smiled. ‘Are you still hungry?’
Lecanora consulted her body, closing her eyes for a moment. ‘Yes,’ she said, still hanging her head.
‘It was my fault. All this.’ Lunia swept her hand across the table. ‘How about I hop up and fetch you something light and sustaining? I’ve got some lovely seaweed soup tucked away in there.’ Lunia gestured to the fridge. ‘It will settle your stomach.’ As she did, Rania made a shushing noise at her mother and pressed another button on the slim black control. The television noise intensified.
‘Look at this,’ Rania said, motioning to the television. ‘It’s about Susan Murray. She’s hosting a dinner tomorrow night, in Boston. Some gala fundraiser. This could be our chance.’
The four women turned to the screen, watching the footage of the beautiful fifty-something woman as she addressed a crowd that day. As they watched, Lecanora became aware of Lunia frowning at the screen. ‘Every time I see that woman, something picks at my brain,’ she said.
Larry entered the room as Lunia said it. ‘Every time I see her, something picks at my brain, too,’ he said. ‘Like where the hell was that woman when I was going down? The love of a woman like that, now that could definitely have saved me.’
Lunia laughed, and so did Rania. Rania went over to him and punched him on the arm. ‘Buddy,’ she said. ‘There are some of us that nothing could save.’
Lunia kept peering at the television. ‘I feel like I know her. I wonder if I met her at an event some time.’ She shook her head. ‘But surely I would remember. Maybe I really am getting old.’
Mrs Tripe laughed this time. ‘Blasphemy, Lunia,’ she said. ‘I refuse to accept I’m old, so you can’t say that. You’ll ruin the whole system. It’s a finely balanced denial I’m in.’
They all laughed and Lecanora felt the tension seep from the moment. What a strange way these Land people had, she thought. The way they used humor. It was so dark and strange, but they used it to lighten situations that were otherwise terrible. She resolved to ask Rania about it later.
When the laughter had subsided, they all turned to Larry as one. Rania spoke first. ‘So?’
Larry ran his hands through his grey crop. ‘Well, he’s bad,’ he said. ‘I’d say we should get him to the hospital but there are two problems with that.’
‘Go on,’ Lunia said.
‘Well first, I’m pretty sure nothing they could do would help him. He’s fried. Even if we could get there in time, this boy’s cooked.’
Lecanora felt the words like a punch to her stomach. ‘The weapon? The sound weapon? Is it his ears? His brain?’
‘No.’ Larry shook his head. ‘It’s not like that. Not like what I saw with…what did you say her name was? Cleedaline? Not even like what I saw in both of your ears earlier on. This boy, his ears, they’re fine, intact. It’s…’
Lecanora felt frustration bubble in her as Larry looked for the words.
‘My best guess is that he’s ODed.’
Lecanora looked to Rania. The term made no sense to her.
‘He’s had an overdose of drugs,’ Rania said, turning back to Larry. ‘What he’s taken?’
‘That’s impossible,’ Lecanora said. ‘I know about drugs. A lot about them. The watch-keepers have been reporting on them for years, about what they have done to some of your people, here on The Land. My mother was very interested in the reports. They concerned her greatly. Although I don’t know why. We don’t have them in Aegira; we don’t need them. We have song.’
‘Amen to that,’ Mrs Tripe said.
Rania repeated her earlier question. ‘Larry. What’s he taken?’
‘That’s just it,’ Larry said, shaking his head again. ‘I can’t work it out. I need to get a full tox screen done to know for sure, but it’s not like anything I’ve seen. I mean, all his responses, they’re exactly like someone in the last stages of a major heroin overdose. Pupils, blood pressure, heart failure.’
‘What’s the second problem?’ Rania was up and moving towards the sitting room.
‘Well,’ Larry said. ‘If he looks anything on the inside like your woman back at the morgue did, you really don’t want anyone poking around him, dead or alive.’
The room was silent for a moment, computing the truth of it.
Lunia sighed and spoke first. ‘We have no choice,’ she said. ‘If there’s any chance we can help him…’
Once they were there, watching him, his breathing ragged and his chest heaving, Lecanora felt the full duty of her station descend upon her. ‘Rania,’ she said. ‘Bring your mother’s vehicle around. We need to get him what help we can. We cannot know what your Land doctors may be able to do, with all of their special equipment. Perhaps…’ She paused, and then shook her head. ‘I will deal with the consequences.’ She knelt beside the young boy, and traced her fingertips over his eyelids. ‘We will do what we can, Aegiran brother,’ she said. She turned to Lunia, about to ask if there was a ba
ck exit they could use to carry him out to the car, when the boy cried out.
Larry shook his head. ‘I’m telling you, Lecanora,’ he said. ‘There is no point.’
Lecanora placed her face close to the boy as he tried to speak. The sound that came from him was crude and guttural, and Larry’s eyes widened as he listened. Lunia stood close to him. ‘It’s the Aegiran tongue,’ she said. “‘This is how it sounds, on The Land, if someone has not been properly trained in Land languages.’ She looked at Rania and Lecanora.
‘So he is not Gadula,’ Lunia said.
Lecanora nodded. The Gadulan learn to speak all major land languages as children.
Lunia motioned at Lecanora as the boy continued to blabber. ‘Can you understand him?’ she asked. ‘It’s been too long for me. I cannot follow quickly enough.’
Lecanora knelt beside the boy, her heart bursting as a long trail of bloody saliva ran from his mouth. She did not know his story, did not know if he was her enemy or something else. But he was still one of her people. And he was sick. Dying.
She held her ear close to his face. ‘He’s saying they are coming,’ she said, feeling prickly goosepimples light up her flesh. She listened again. ‘He keeps saying it. Over and over. They are coming, they are coming. He knows me. He calls me Queen. And he tells me we are in great danger.’
She stopped, her voice breaking.
Then she swallowed and listened again. ‘He is telling me there are many like him. Soldiers of the song, he is calling them.’ She listened again as the room seemed to hold its collective breath.
There was not a sound, apart from the boy’s low moaning.
‘He says he knows we have a mission but that we are not safe. He broke away—from the others—to warn us.’ Then something far worse grabbed at her. ‘He says we are not safe here, and they are not safe there. In Aegira. He says no-one is safe anywhere. He says…’ She turned to the small group, trying to make sense of the words. ‘He says war is coming.’