Beached

by Ros Baxter

  Arty clucked. ‘You girls are going to need to get in there soon. They’re going to sweep the bathroom, you know that, right? They’ll check no-one’s in there before they let her in. You sure you can…?’ He trailed off, shaking his head and clucking again. ‘You sure you can do, you know, your thing? The thing you said you could do?’ He motioned with a hand flapping movement at Lunia.

  Lecanora felt a wave of strange warmth flood her as she watched him. Arturo was unusual for a Land man. Even confronted with all he had seen and heard over the last two days, he remained unflappable. And now, now he had learned about this aspect of the plan, and he was still coping. Just.

  ‘It is an old skill,’ Lunia said. ‘I learned it many years ago, as a young girl. From your mother, Lecanora.’ She smiled, and touched her face. ‘Your other mother.’

  ‘She does know a lot of things.’ Lecanora smiled.

  ‘So it’s not normal?’ Arty’s almost black eyes bored into Lecanora. ‘Not all you guys can do this? Just Lunia?’

  ‘There are others.’ Lunia smiled at him. ‘But it is an old skill. One must have trained closely with the cephalopods to accomplish it. The Queen is a gifted transluce.’

  ‘Sounds like some Harry Potter shit to me,’ Arty said, shaking his head again and smiling. Then he looked at Lunia seriously. ‘You sure it’s safe, honey? For you, and the girls?’

  Rania snorted. ‘Ah, I’m thirty real soon, Dad.’ She laughed. ‘Not so much of the girl. And this one—’ She pointed a finger at Lecanora. ‘She’s got a coupla years on me. Even if she does look nineteen.’

  Arty laughed too, and for the first time Lecanora noticed the similarities between Rania and her father. The same hard but contagious laugh, the same cynical worldview, laced with a soft, protective edge. A strange combination, she considered, but a beautiful one.

  Rania turned to her father. ‘So, Dad. We’ll go in there now. The entourage is due in—’ She flicked her eyes to the chunky black swatch watch on her wrist that sat at odds with the sleek red dress. ‘—seven minutes. So we need to get in there. You guys got eyes and ears on?’

  ‘Yep,’ Arty confirmed. ‘Doug and Carragheen are already in place.’

  ‘They’ll probably sweep that room again,’ Rania grunted, pointing to the media room.

  Arty nodded. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘That’s why we’ve got these.’ He pointed at the grubby overalls he was wearing now, a change from the tuxedo he’d been wearing earlier. ‘We’ve all got a set. Stylish, huh?’

  Lunia smiled. ‘Enchanting,’ she said, in that magical way she had that made it feel like everything really was enchanting. ‘Now, tell us again.’

  Arty held up his hands, counting items off as he spoke. ‘Doug’s made the hole, got the scope in there. We’ll be able to see it all.’ He laughed. ‘Even if I do feel like some kinda old Peeping Tom. Can you please, please try to make sure no-one does pee pees while we’re looking.’ He blushed a little, and Lecanora thought again what a strange man he was. ‘It just wouldn’t feel right.’

  ‘I promise.’ Rania laughed. ‘I’d hate to offend your delicate sensibilities.’

  Arty dragged in a breath and squared his shoulders. ‘Right, then, bellas,’ he said. ‘Off to the ladies for you. Y’all look beautiful. And I know you’re smart as hell. It’s all gonna go great.’ He paused, standing in front of the three women. ‘But if it doesn’t, you know the plan, right? We got contingencies. We can make a break through the wall if we need to, ‘cause those service guys sure as shit ain’t gonna let us through to watch the next president do her business. Doug’s got some serious stuff. That wall’s gonna be like putty in our hands.’

  He turned to Rania and stood in front of her for a couple of seconds, bringing one hand up to touch the side of her face. ‘Remember, bambina,’ he said. ‘Remember what I always told ya. It feels wrong, anything. Anything feels wrong, you pull out. Only broke that rule once my whole life, and look where it landed me. Longest serving inmate of the county jail.’

  He turned to Lunia and Lecanora. ‘You two remember it too. Feels wrong, get outta there.’ He smiled. ‘Or holler for me, and I’ll be there. Quicker than you can say greased lightning.’ As he said the last words, he made a strange noise in the back of his throat and held his hands up, pointing one finger in front of him and starting to hum. Then he opened his mouth and sang the strangest words Lecanora had ever heard, something about lifters and four barrel quads…

  The father and daughter began to laugh uncontrollably, falling on each other.

  ‘Grease,’ Rania wheezed at Lecanora through her tears of laughter. ‘It’s a movie. I’ll rent it for us one day.’ When Rania and Arty finally stopped laughing, Lunia watching on, and, smiling serenely, Arty wrapped his arms around Rania, lifting her up as he squeezed her hard. ‘Stay safe, Principessa,’ he said.

  ‘You too, Dad,’ Rania said, her voice breaking a little. ‘You gotta stay safe. I got you into this.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Arty said, shaking his head. ‘You didn’t get me inta this, bella. I got into this the moment I was born. I was born to be your dad, and I was born to help you however I could.’

  He turned back to Lecanora, picked up one of her hands and kissed it gently. ‘And you, Princess. I know somethin’, deep in my bones. I ain’t been much use to no-one these last years, wastin’ away in the jail. But I know I’ve got a part to play in helping you. And your people. And Lunia’s people. The people who brought her to me.’ With one arm around Rania, he squeezed her again. ‘And brought my daughter to me.’

  Lecanora felt a lump, hard and scratchy, rise in her throat at his words. She stepped forward to him and ran her fingertips across his eyelids. ‘Arturo the Brave,’ she whispered. ‘It is little wonder you made my sister.’ She motioned to Rania. ‘I am grateful to you. For so many things.’

  ‘Enough,’ Lunia said. ‘This is not goodbye.’ She clapped her hands. ‘Arty,’ she commanded, motioning to the door of the audio-visual room. ‘In there. Women.’ She motioned this time to the door of the ladies restroom. ‘In here, after me. We need to get Lecanora out of sight before that nasty secret service man comes along with Mrs Murray.’

  Lecanora and Rania hurried after Lunia into the bathroom.

  Lecanora felt her breath hitch as they entered the bathroom. It was too soon after the events of the day there, she decided. Manos, and the song… Her skin tingled and itched.

  A tall, stately woman in a steel grey evening gown stood at the sink, applying lipstick. Lunia nodded to her, and swept into a stall. Lecanora followed suit, as she had been instructed to do, and Rania took the next stall. She stood there, her back to the door, waiting, her ears attuned, hoping it would not be too long. She took in the stall as she waited. It was large, thankfully. Lunia had said today they would need some space to do what they needed to do. Lecanora hoped this space would be enough.

  In seconds, she heard the dull thud that indicated the heavy door had closed. The woman had gone. As she heard it, she slipped out the door of her stall and knocked gently on the door of the next one. Rania was behind her, and together they moved in close to Lunia.

  ‘How long will it take?’ Rania was eyeing her mother carefully.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Lunia said.

  Rania checked her watch. ‘We have two minutes,’ she said. ‘No pressure.’

  Her mother smiled at her. ‘Of course, darling, there’s never any pressure. All we can do is what we can do. Let’s just see what we can manage in two minutes.’

  She motioned to the two women to stand in front of her, and she reached a gentle hand up to close their eyelids. ‘Concentrate on my breathing,’ she said, her voice already starting to take on a faraway tone, getting threadier and deeper, sounding more and more like it did underwater with every breath. ‘In, out. I am going to go there first, but you will need to be close behind me, so listen carefully, and stay with me.’

  Lecanora waited. Lunia had said she would do Rania first because she may be
harder to bring over. Lecanora listened to the breathing in the stall and focused on a single point of light, in her mind’s eye, as Lunia had instructed them upstairs in the hotel room. It was almost a minute before she felt Lunia knocking at the door of her brain.

  I am here, her mother said. And I have Rania with me.

  You are welcome, Lecanora said, in the ritual greeting.

  Now follow me, girls, Lunia said. And as she did, their minds swirled in rainbows. It was disorienting , like all the detail and color of the universe was playing across their minds. Lecanora held onto Lunia’s brain pattern as she let the visual storm wash over her. She felt Rania resist it, bucking and rocking on the tide. Then she felt her mother’s gentle instruction.

  Rania, my daughter, we do not have long. Let go. Give in to it.

  Lecanora felt Rania’s mind let go, opening and releasing the pieces of herself she had been holding onto. As she did it, the colors bled out. The canvas of their minds, which had been a riot of color, drained to white, then to nothingness, a translucent screen through which they could see nothing but the place they were, as though they had become camouflaged into the walls of life itself.

  Lunia spoke again. You are lost, and I am going to bring you back, but you must stay focused or you will break the spell. We will only have it for a few seconds, altogether like this. I hope it will be enough.

  As she finished speaking into their minds, they heard the first crash as the door to the restrooms was pushed roughly open. Bang. Several pairs of feet thundered towards them. Lecanora focused hard on the nothingness in her brain as she heard the doors of the stalls beside her being pushed open, one at a time.

  Bang, bang, bang.

  Then she felt a loud bang jar their door open, and she held her breath, readying herself.

  ‘All clear, sir,’ a loud male voice barked very close to her ear.

  ‘Good.’

  Lecanora knew the second voice. The cruelty that lay at the back of it made her spine stiffen. It was the man, from the party. The one who had looked her up and down with such lust and disregard. The secret service agent.

  ‘Let them in, then.’

  Lecanora continued to hold her breath, and felt Rania and her mother do the same, as she heard two bodies enter the restrooms, softer and less certain than the agents who had come before.

  The cruel voice spoke again. ‘Ma’am. Would you like me to stay while you and your aide ablute?’

  Lecanora could hear the soft smile in Susan Murray’s voice as she responded. ‘Why, thank you very kindly for the offer, Captain Schwarz,’ she said. ‘But I think we can manage to ablute just fine by ourselves. And we know that you good men are outside, should we need any assistance.’

  The Captain grunted and was gone.

  ‘Really, Miranda,’ Susan Murray said, making a clucking noise. ‘I really do not see the appeal of that man.’

  The other woman laughed. ‘Different strokes, ma’am,’ she said. ‘Now, lipstick first?’

  ‘Yes,’ Susan said. ‘The good Captain has allowed us four minutes for this leg of the evening. Best we get the important parts out of the way first.’

  Lecanora felt Lunia exhale, and knew it was their cue to let go of their disguise. She felt almost dizzy as the colors came rushing back into her mind. She opened her eyes and watched the last pieces of the show—her skin reforming before her eyes as she once again became visible.

  Some party trick, Rania sighed into her mind. What a mother.

  Lunia smiled gently at them. Now, she said, pushing gently on the stall door.

  As the three women entered the bathroom proper, Lunia planted another thought, this time into Susan Murray’s mind. Please do not be afraid, she said. We mean you no harm. You know us; you know you do. You felt it today, in the lobby. My name is Lunia, and these are my daughters, Lecanora and Rania.

  ‘Susan?’ The aide looked questioningly at Susan, who was smiling uncertainly at the three women. ‘Should I call Schwarz?’

  Susan raised her hand. ‘Not yet, my dear,’ she said.

  She turned to Lunia, and Lecanora felt herself full of awe in the moment. Susan Murray was stunning, a vision in pale cream. Like a beautiful thirty-year-old woman, and yet almost twice that. Her eyes were full of intelligence and…something else. Something Lecanora recognized but took a moment to locate the label for.

  Empathy, Rania whispered into her mind. She’s kind. She understands things.

  Yes, Lecanora agreed. She has been through things also. Like us.

  And Lecanora realized it then. That the three of them—Rania, Susan and herself—were all outsiders, and yet connected. To Aegira and each other, by birth and by a fractured history. They were the same. They loved their home, and yet were removed from it.

  But how? How had Susan come to be here, on The Land? Without anyone knowing? Aegirans did not get lost. They were fish in a school. How did this happen?

  Susan waved a hand over the three women. ‘How did you do that?’ She smiled tentatively. ‘Make yourselves undetectable to my guards? An amazing trick.’

  Before Lunia could respond, another voice broke across them all. A soft, whispery voice that stroked and slid into the spaces between Lecanora’s cells as she listened.

  ‘Not so impressive, Mrs Murray,’ the voice said. ‘It’s nothing on what I can do.’

  The five women turned towards the voice. And there he was, again. It did not matter to Lecanora that he had changed shape. That this time he was dressed as a tall, stately silver-haired woman in a grey dress. ‘These women are such novices they walked straight past me,’ he hissed. He inclined his heads towards Lecanora. ‘We meet again, Princess,’ he said. ‘And in the same place.’ He nodded towards Susan Murray. ‘I think that might be what you humans call déjà vu?’

  Rania made to move towards him, her gun suddenly in her hand.

  But the silver-haired matron laughed as she advanced. ‘Really, Rania? A gun? How quaint of you. Especially as I know you have seen what I can without one.’ At his words, the woman raised her elegant ringed index finger and made a single tiny sound. It buzzed and stung Lecanora’s ear, but as Manos uttered it, Rania’s weapon clattered to the floor, and Rania stood still, her face frozen in a furious mask.

  Susan Murray’s aide had obviously decided things were not right. She opened her mouth and took a breath, stepping towards the door. But Manos raised a single finger in her direction, and, making another quick sound, froze her, mid-breath. Susan stepped towards him but he held up a finger again. ‘She is unharmed,’ he said. ‘For now. Say anything, or move towards that door, and that will all change immediately. Not that it would matter, particularly, if you did.’ He turned towards Lunia and Lecanora. ‘A wasted effort with the transluce, ladies,’ he hissed. ‘Those guards out there can’t do a thing.’

  ‘What have you done to them?’ Susan sounded calm, but Lecanora could feel the vermillion haze in her brain, the blood-red of concern for another.

  ‘Think of it as a little rest,’ Manos said, smiling. ‘They will wake soon enough, but they will not trouble us while we chat.’

  Susan shut her mouth and stilled her features. ‘What do you want?’

  Before he could answer, a soft crash sounded behind them all. They turned to see the solid wall that had been behind them seconds before disappeared, dissolved as though it had never been. Arty, Carragheen and Doug stood in its place.

  ‘Back off, bitch,’ Arty growled at the grey-haired woman, moving swiftly to her.

  ‘No,’ Lunia commanded, trying to step between Arty and Manos. But it was too late. There was no song for Arty this time. Manos reached up a single finger, and a dull hum throbbed in Lecanora’s ears. Arty fell to his knees, a low whoosh signaling breath disappearing from his lungs. Carragheen and Doug surged forward but Manos held up his other hand, and they too were stopped in their tracks.

  With a sweep of his hand, Lecanora felt herself paralyzed on the spot, and she saw that the same thing had happene
d to Lunia, and to Susan Murray. She looked around and saw that all of them—Susan and her aide, Lunia, Rania and Carragheen, Arty and Doug—were all frozen. She willed her limbs to move forward. For the first time ever, she imagined herself inflicting violence on someone and enjoying it. She imagined how it would feel to put her hands around the throat of this woman—Manos in disguise—and squeeze. But in place of movement, there was just a dull hum in her bones, her skin and her senses. And she was still.

  ‘Now,’ Manos said, looking directly at Arty. ‘The little Land worm who thought he could stop me. The one who thwarted me today. Your father, I understand, Rania?’

  Rania growled low in her throat, despite being frozen in place.

  ‘I hope you will enjoy my little show.’ The woman that was Manos waved her hand, as though in a gesture of dismissal, and Arty fell face forward on the floor. The woman then flipped her hand over and Arty turned onto his back, a ragdoll at the sorcerer’s command. His face was twisted and his mouth fell open, fear and pain in his eyes.

  ‘Oh yes, Princess,’ the woman said. ‘I am hurting him. Watch this.’ The woman rubbed her fingers together and Arty’s body kicked and writhed, a long sliver of drool escaping his mouth. He turned back to his captive. ‘And now, for stopping me today, the piece de resistance.’

  Lecanora strained against the bonds of the low sound, but nothing worked inside her. She swept the furious, immobile faces of the others, and tried to work out how Manos was doing this. She thought about what he had achieved with her that day, and Arty’s song. Those few bars that had saved her. And now he was going to pay for helping her.

  The woman clapped her hands together, elegant arms lending her the appearance of being at the theatre. But at the gesture, Arty’s body rose up as though it had been electrocuted. A rough sob tore from his mouth and blood poured from his ears.

  And then he lay still, broken in front of them, his eyes wide and sightless.