The Strange

by Masha du Toit

  “Who—?” Elke managed, through numb lips.

  “I’m Hugin. Maxwell’s medic.”

  He disappeared from her view, then returned, holding something that looked like a translucent pencil.

  “Ashurbanipal!” grumbled Maxwell. “I keep telling you. My name is Ashurbanipal.”

  Hugin just twitched an eyebrow, and took hold of Elke’s hand, drawing her arm out straight. “If you’re worried about infection, why don’t you take a draft of your medicine?” he told Maxwell.

  “You’re just trying to get rid of me.”

  “That’s right.”

  Maxwell grumbled even more at this, but Elke heard the gradually diminishing squeak of wheels, and guessed he had left the room.

  “Hugin. One of Odin’s ravens,” she muttered.

  Hugin shot her a bright glance. “That’s right. You know the old stories? Hold still.”

  He pressed the pencil-thing into the crook of Elke’s arm, and she watched as it gradually filled with blood. Part of her knew she should care about this, but she couldn’t summon the energy.

  “Maxwell likes giving the people around him significant names.” Hugin flicked the pencil-thing gently. “The latest is this mania for Ashurbanipal, and all things Persian or Assyrian. It’s mostly just an act. Clever, really. If he seems eccentric enough, nobody pays too much attention to what he’s really up to.”

  “What’s the blood for?” Elke tried to focus on Hugin’s face. Whatever had been in the drink, it was definitely affecting her. She struggled to keep her eyes open as a pleasant languor stole through her limbs.

  “Some tests.” Hugin held the pencil-thing up to the light and stepped out of Elke’s view again.

  “You okay?” Kiran was there, her mask pulled down under her chin, face tight with worry. “You should have said you weren’t okay. Thandeka told me that you were nearly drowned!”

  “Something like that.” Elke smiled drowsily at Kiran. Her entire body was bathed in the most delicious warmth. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  Kiran smiled. “I think you might be just a little buzzed.” She smoothed Elke’s hair. “Feeling good?”

  “Hmm.” Elke sighed and took Kiran’s hand in hers. “Stay.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Kiran pulled her mask back into place.

  “Open your mouth.” Hugin was back, with a little stick that he slid under Elke’s tongue. He produced another of the translucent pencils. “And while we’re at it, we might as well test you, too, mejuffrou.” He looked at Kiran.

  Kiran let go Elke’s hand. “Uh— I’m fine. Nothing wrong with me.”

  “I rather doubt that,” Hugin said evenly. “Maxwell is definitely on the paranoid side of hypochondria, but he is a very old man, and his immune system is vulnerable. You’re running a fever, and I’ve already noticed a couple of other interesting symptoms.”

  Kiran swallowed. Her eyes flicked to the side as if she were judging her chances of making a getaway.

  Elke tried to remember why no one should know that Kiran was sick, but it would not come to her.

  “You can’t escape.” Hugin stood perfectly still. “If you don’t submit, I’ll be forced to raise the alarm. That won’t end well for you.”

  Kiran swallowed, and took a step back.

  “I won’t turn you over to those butchers.” Hugin’s voice stayed calm. “If my tests show that you are sick, I’ll do my best to help you.”

  “Why?” Kiran gulped a ragged breath as she stared at Hugin. “Why would you do that?”

  “I’m a medic. It’s what I do.”

  Kiran laughed. “Most of the medics in this place would do something very other than help me.”

  “That’s true.” Hugin didn’t even nod. He just stood, perfectly still, waiting to see what Kiran would do.

  “What—” Kiran swallowed again. “What will you do, if— If you find that I’m—”

  Elke could hear the fear in her voice and wanted to reach out to her.

  “That depends on what my tests tell me,” Hugin said. “Do you know what’s wrong with you?”

  Kiran shook her head.

  “Well then. Maybe we should find out.” Hugin waited, eyebrows raised, and when Kiran didn’t respond, he quietly handed her the blood pencil.

  “Place it in the crook of your elbow, near the vein. Hold it there. It will make the connection to the vein. There won’t be any pain.”

  After a long moment, Kiran took the pencil from Hugin and rolled up her sleeve.

  Elke wanted to say something, to help Kiran somehow, but her eyelids dragged down. Kiran and Hugin’s voices sounded distantly, but she could no longer make out the words.

  She gave up the struggle and slipped into unconsciousness.

  End of the Line

  Meisje let herself doze lightly, rocking with the motion of the train.

  So far, they’d stopped only once, just after passing through the portal. A large party had boarded the train, mostly men, and all in uniform. They had weapons. Knives in their belts, and a type of gun Meisje didn’t recognise, with odd cannisters slung under the barrels.

  A change in the motion of the train woke Meisje even before the soldiers began getting up, stretching and yawning and picking up their packs.

  “What’s this?” Argent looked around the carriage, then out the window. “We’re surely not at Dasch yet? Why are we stopping?”

  He called out to one of the soldiers, and they had a brief exchange. Meisje couldn’t understand the language, but whatever the soldier told Argent, it made him rise from his seat, then sit again, frowning and uncertain.

  “We’ve got a problem,” he muttered to Meisje as the soldiers crowded out. The carriage rocked as they stepped off.

  “The train’s not going all the way. It’s stopping here.”

  Meisje tilted her head slightly in the way she’d found made him more likely to explain things.

  “That soldier said Dasch is under siege. Or it’s about to be.” Argent glanced over his shoulder at the departing soldiers.

  “All the train lines have been cut, so this train is stopping here.” He gave an irritated snort. “You’d think that they could have told me this when I boarded, but no. And I have no idea how I’m going to get back to the portal again.”

  He glared at Meisje. “I should never have followed you. I should have gone back to the Babylon Eye direct from the Gremium. Now it might take days to get back.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Well. Let me see what I can do.”

  Meisje jumped off the bench, and Argent looked at her uncertainly. “You’re not going to let me muzzle you. And we don’t have a leash. Are you going to behave?”

  Meisje sat, scratched vigorously behind one ear, shook herself, and trotted to the door of the carriage. When Argent didn't immediately follow, she looked at him and barked.

  Argent gave a little huff out outrage but followed her all the same.

  The train had stopped at a temporary platform. Several sturdy planks attached to the tracks, with no railing to prevent the unwary from tumbling to the grassy earth below.

  Argent kept one hand on the train as he made his way along this platform, glancing nervously at the drop. He quickly found what he was looking for—several men in scruffy, dark blue uniforms.

  Meisje could not understand what was said, but it was soon clear that the argument wasn’t going Argent’s way. That didn’t matter much. He was going back to Gremium. His goals no longer aligned with hers.

  When she sure Argent’s attention was engaged, Meisje set off in the direction the train had been going, working her way between the soldiers’ legs. Some of them tried to pet her, others stepped back in surprise at sight of her.

  She kept going till she reached end of the temporary platform. Here, she had to move onto the track itself, right up against the train.

  The train-scent had been growing more intense the closer she got to the front of the thing. Now she saw the source, an enormous crea
ture that lay resting in the cage of metal straps that made up the locomotive. Every now and then it huffed, expelling its breath in rumbling puffs. As Meisje stepped past, its eye opened, and for a moment the locomotive-beast and the gardag regarded one another. The beast blinked, huffed a long and rumbly breath, and closed its eye again.

  Once Meisje was past the train, she walked along the track itself. The rails were narrow and slippery, but this didn’t worry her. This was the track the train would have taken, so this was the way she had to go.

  She placed one paw exactly in front of the other on the metal rail.

  A clamour sounded behind her. Footsteps, and voices raised in loud command. Several soldiers hung onto the front end of the train. They’d seen her, and they were levelling their guns.

  Meisje hesitated. While her reinforced body might survive the jump down to the grass below, she’s still be well within the soldiers’ firing range. She was armoured under her skin, but she didn’t know how powerful their weapons were.

  “Hey!”

  Several of the soldiers swung round, pointing their rifles at somebody coming up behind them.

  “Hey!”

  It was Argent, red-faced, clinging to the side of the train and leaning out so that he could see Meisje. He shouted angrily at the soldiers, who ignored him.

  “You!” Argent let go with one hand and waved it at Meisje. “Dog! What’s your name. Meisje! Get back here!”

  He broke off to argue with the soldiers again, and then with somebody behind him. From his suddenly respectful tone, Meisje guessed this person must be of higher rank.

  She eyed the ground again, trying to calculate the odds. Even if she didn’t break her legs, the impact might stun her. Any sudden move she made would draw the soldiers’ fire.

  Whoever Argent was talking to, it was having an effect. Sharp orders were issued, and one by one the soldiers lowered their guns.

  “Come!” Argent shouted. He pushed his way past the soldiers, and after an uncertain look at the narrow rail, stepped out towards Meisje, arms jerking to hold his balance.

  “Listen. I got them to agree not to shoot you. But if we stay out here—” He was sweating and breathing hard with fear.

  He was going to fall. She had to help him, but Elke was in the other direction. If she turned back now, she might never see her again.

  “Listen.” Argent wobbled another step closer. “One of the officers here knows my family. He knows I have influence. They’ve got a transport that’s going on to Dash. I’ll get him to take us there.” He flapped an arm to point down the line. “It’s where you want to go. Where Elke is.”

  For a few seconds he stared at Meisje, breathing hard. “Come back,” he said more quietly. “They’ll only shoot you, if you don’t. You have my word, I’ll do my best to get to the end of this. We’ll find Jinan Meer, and Elke too.”

  He wobbled again, arms flying up, and Meisje had enough. With a few sure steps she was at his side.

  “Oh.” Argent groaned as he grabbed her collar to steady himself. “However, did I get into this mess.”

  He only let her go when they were safely back on the temporary platform again.

  ¤¤¤

  True to his word, Argent convinced the officer to let him and Meisje join the transport.

  It was a small truck, just big enough for the driver, Meisje, Argent, some soldiers, and many bags and bundles.

  The soldiers were tense and took turns to sit on the roof of the truck, scanning the route ahead and behind, rifles at the ready.

  The landscape leading up to Dasch looked a lot less flat now that they were no longer on the elevated track. The ground was sandy, and they would have struggled if they’d tried it on foot. The truck travelled at a steady pace, rolling along on oversized, puffy wheels. It moved, as much as possible, along the dips and valleys, as if they were trying to stay out of sight.

  Every now and then Meisje saw clouds of dust or smoke beyond the ridges that surrounded them, and scented large numbers of people, far, but not far enough away.

  Argent had finally remembered that she needed to eat. He’d shared some of the food from the pack the officer had given him, so her stomach was full, but it was hard to sleep in the lurching, swaying vehicle. The soldiers’ obvious tension made it difficult for Meisje to relax.

  Not long after dark, they finally reached the city. The quiet challenge from the city guards woke Meisje in time to see the mountain wall of Dasch rising to block the stars.

  With a rattle of chains, the gate drew up, and they rolled inside.

  Crush

  Elke was lying on a narrow bunk in a small room, dark, except for a pale glow from beyond the open door.

  It looked like a med-bay. The only furniture, apart from the bunk, was a chair, a built-in counter with a basin, and a trolley with many little drawers.

  Elke sat up carefully, but her head was clear and her stomach steady.

  A quick inspection revealed that the medical patches on her arms, throat, and temples had degraded to a powder that crumbled away under her fingers.

  Her various bruises and grazes were still freshly sore, but the nausea and dizziness were gone. Somebody had changed her clothes and taken away her shoes. Or maybe she’d left her shoes down in the harbour—she could no longer remember.

  Night-sounds drifted in from outside. Insects chirping, the occasional sharp cry of what she thought might be a bat, and the ever-present hushing of the waves.

  Where was everyone?

  No chance of sleep. Elke felt far too wide awake. Slipping down from her bunk, she went to the door. To her right, a corridor with more doors. To her left was a sense open space. That must be the room where she’d met Maxwell Jali.

  She turned left, drawn by the sound of the sea.

  The big room looked strange in the dark. The crowd of sculptures was visible only in the details picked out by the light from the balconies—a raised hand, or a staring eye.

  The balcony on her right faced the slave-court, and from the other, came the sound of the sea. Elke picked her way through the frozen crowd of statuary towards the sea-facing balcony. The roar of the waves seemed louder in the dark, and it was easy to imagine a wave mounting high enough to foam in through the carved balustrade.

  Elke pushed aside the folds of the plastic sheeting and stepped out into the balcony. She paused, listening. Something creaked—one of the cane chairs drawn up to face the ocean view.

  “Elke?” The chair creaked again.

  Elke took a step closer. “Kiran?” she whispered. “Is that you?”

  Kiran sat forward. “Hey. You look as if you’re feeling better.”

  “I am. Wide awake, too.”

  Kiran patted the chair next to hers. “Come sit.”

  Elke obeyed. Her eyes were adjusting to the dim light, enough to make out that Kiran’s face and body was encased in translucent plastic, her nose and mouth covered with a mask.

  “They got you back in a biosuit again?” Elke sat in the chair.

  “Yep.” Kiran tugged at the collar of the suit where it snugged under her chin. “It’s way better quality.”

  “But why?” Elke found a more comfortable position, and the chair creaked as it adjusted to her weight.

  “When Maxwell heard that his medic was taking samples of me for testing, he kind of freaked out.” Kiran looked back at the room behind them. “He got that whole place misted with disinfectant. You can still kind of smell it.”

  And you could, Elke realised. The scent of it brought back a pang of memory, of standing in a corridor in Works level with Meisje at her side. How long ago that seemed.

  A wave of longing, laced with guilt, swept over her.

  “You’re thinking of Meisje, aren’t you,” said Kiran.

  Elke nodded, and Kiran touched her arm in silent sympathy.

  For a long moment they sat listening to the roar of the ocean below. Elke thought about Isabeau and Ndlela, back there on the Eye, fending for themselves.
Tomas and Danger, Diesel, Mack Jack...

  “Did Thandeka go looking for Noor again?” Elke asked at last. “I’m trying to remember what happened before I collapsed, but it’s all confused.”

  “She did. She and Esseret Sadh,” said Kiran. “They were gone so long that I started to get worried, but they came back hours later, with Noor.” Kiran smiled a little grimly. “They weren’t too happy with one another, Noor and her mom.”

  “They were fighting?”

  “They were. Thandeka is quite something.” Kiran laughed softly. “She doesn’t shout or swear, she just states her case like a wall of rock. And Noor was raging against her like the sea.” Kiran shook her head in wry admiration.

  “Noor’s no pushover,” said Elke. “Not once she’s made her mind up about something. She’s got a stubborn streak about a mile wide. But what’s the problem?”

  “Noor wants Thandeka to go back to the Eye, but Thandeka refuses. She says that her place is here, helping slaves.”

  Elke had sat up in surprise. “She doesn’t want to go back? But what about Isabeau and Ndlela? Isn’t she worried about them?”

  Kiran nodded. “Exactly. That’s exactly what Noor said. Although a bit less diplomatically than you just did. So, the thing is, apparently Esseret Sadh and Thandeka have an arrangement. Thandeka’s worked herself into a position where she can access the paperwork of sorted slaves, and Sadh knows the bureaucracy inside out, and has lots of connections with influential people.

  “They’ve got it all worked out between them. They’ve made an alliance with the menha, who help them smuggle the slaves out of here. Not many, you understand, that would attract attention, but the ones who need it most. Mostly children.”

  “I thought it was something like that.” Elke stared into the dark. “Okay. That does complicate things.”

  “Thandeka says she doesn’t have the right to leave. She’s got a responsibility here, to the kids she can save.” Kiran sighed heavily. “Of course, Noor points out that Thandeka’s got a responsibility to her own children too. And when Thandeka suggested that Noor had already taken over that particular duty you should have seen the fireworks.”