“It needs somebody with connections,” Thandeka said. “Somebody who can stay there on a permanent basis.”
Kiran kept assuring Elke that she could manage by herself, especially when Maxwell Jali, after some not-so-subtle arm twisting by Hugin, gave her a scrip with enough credit to pay her way in the Fata Morgana.
Maxwell agreed to set the portal to open first to the Babylon Eye, and then, once sufficient time had elapsed to allow it to “wind down” and “wind up” again, he would send Kiran to the Fata Morgana.
Once the decision had been made, the preparations started.
Thandeka revealed that she’d made some arrangements of her own.
“We can’t afford to draw any attention,” she’d said. “And three slaves disappearing all at once will certainly draw attention.”
The answer, according to Thandeka, was for Maxwell Jali to take over ownership of herself, Noor, Elke, and Kiran.
“That’s how we usually do it, when we arrange an escape,” Thandeka explained. “Esseret Sadh has access to the records, so we can alter the paperwork to hide where people really go. But we still need an actual citizen who’s willing to provide their chop.”
Esseret Sadh was summoned, after Maxwell Jali extracted solemn promises from everyone not to mention the private portal in front of Sadh.
Thandeka must have told the Esseret what she wanted the previous evening because he arrived with all the necessary paperwork and his own tattoo machine.
Maxwell Jali made quite a fuss over the documents, reading through it at ponderous length, and then providing his chop, which turned out to be stamping a drop of his blood into the paper with a signet ring.
“Do we really have to get tattooed again?” said Noor, fingering her chin.
“It’s on the arm, this time,” Esseret Sadh said, fitting a needle into his machine. “Just a few lines, here.” He touched his own bicep.
Only Thandeka would truly need a tattoo, as she was the only one who would be staying behind in the city. But Maxwell had been adamant that this fact should be told to nobody else, not even the Esseret.
“It will raise too many questions,” he’d grumbled. “It’s bad enough that all of you know of my portal.”
So, one by one they rolled up their sleeves and submitted to the needle.
“Can I ask what Maxwell paid for us?” Elke asked as Esseret Sadh drew the buzzing instrument over her skin.
“That bothers you?” Sadh used a tissue to dab up the blood dewing on her skin.
“Yes, it does.”
“You can be at ease then.” Sadh dipped his needle into the tiny ink pot, inspecting it carefully before setting it buzzing again. “In cases like these, the money that changes hand is purely symbolic. A nominal amount.” He glanced up at Elke. “One dina, to be exact. That’s about the price of five sheets of bisc.”
Elke was surprised into a laugh. “I’m not sure whether I should be relieved or insulted.”
As soon as Sadh had packed up his instrument, rolled up the paperwork and left, Maxwell Jali made Hugin lock and bar all the external doors.
He levered himself out of his wheelchair and shuffled over to a carved panel that covered most of the wall next to the balcony that overlooked the sea.
“You sure you don’t need help with that?” Hugin said, but Maxwell waved him away. He hooked his fingers into a crevice in the middle of the panel and heaved at it until, with a soft rumble of bearings, half the panel slid aside.
Maxwell did the same to the other half, exposing a large metal disk set into the wall. It was about the height of a door, and as wide as it was high. All around, set flush with the wall, were boxy cabinets.
Elke watched, fascinated, as Maxwell opened the cabinets and fiddled with the mechanisms inside. When she made as if to step closer, Hugin put a hand on her arm.
“Better not,” he said under his breath. “Maxwell’s secretive about his machine.”
“Doesn’t he really need a wheelchair, then?” Noor asked Hugin, as Maxwell shuffled and fussed around the portal.
“He needs it,” said Hugin. “Most of his complaints are imaginary, but he really is a very old man. He can only stay on his feet for so long. He’s energetic now because he loves playing with his toy, but it won’t last.”
“How long will it take him, to set it up?” asked Elke.
Hugin glanced out the window to the balcony. “He’ll be aiming to time it with the setting of the sun. So still a fair while, yet.”
“Oh.” Elke blew out a breath.
Hugin gave her a sympathetic look. “You are still deciding? To the Eye, or to the Fata?”
“I don’t know what to do. My clear duty lies at the Eye, but— Well—” Elke glanced over at Kiran, who was curled up in one of the big cane chairs.
“You have a duty to your friend, as well,” Hugin finished for her. “It is not an easy choice.”
“And it’s not just because of my job that I’ve got to go back to the Eye,” Elke found herself saying. “There’s my gardag too. Meisje. She’s back there on the Eye. I left her stranded there. I know it probably sounds odd, but she’s every bit as important to me as my human friends.”
“Nothing odd about that,” said Hugin. “You were a team, weren’t you? You and your gardag.”
Elke nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
The thought of Meisje was like a barbed hook tugging at her heart. If she went with Kiran, would she ever see Meisje again? It was one thing to leave Meisje by accident. It was quite another to abandon her by choice. But she couldn’t let Kiran go to the Fata Morgana all alone, not sick as she was.
Elke looked at Kiran, lying with both hands tucked under her chin, her face serious in sleep.
I love her.
The knowledge shook Elke, and she felt something very like fear.
What will happen to me, if I let her go?
She’d never felt like this about any lover. Mack Jack had been a good friend. She remembered him with fond tenderness, but it was nothing like what she felt for Kiran.
It was an impossible choice, but there was no getting away from it.
She had until sunset to decide.
¤¤¤
Hugin had been right. The sun was low in the sky by the time Maxwell Jali finally dusted his hands on his trousers. The portal looked unchanged, but the effect of Maxwell’s tinkering had been audible for some time now.
It had begun as a bone-deep vibration, climbing gradually to a soft, melodious humming, shifting and weaving in and out of hearing, as though somebody was running a wet fingertip around the rim of a gigantic wine glass.
Hugin had packed his belongings, and put together a pack for Kiran as well, briefing her on who she should speak to in the Fata Morgana. He had some connections there still.
“My guess is,” Hugin said as he sank down on the sofa next to Kiran, “that this viral lathe will be of deep interest to them. You don’t want to fall into the hands of someone who will look at you as an experiment, rather than a patient.”
He patted one of the side pockets of the bag he’d prepared for her. “I’ve put a notebook in here with the names you’ll need, and an introductory letter, as well as a map of how to get to the city gates.”
Elke listened to this with growing concern. She still hadn’t decided what she wanted to do, but it looked as if her decision was being made for her.
Thandeka came to embrace her. “Elke, I never thanked you for what you did. Coming here for me. And for everything you did for Issy and Noor and Ndlela before that. Noor told me all about it.”
“I hate leaving you here,” said Elke. “This place is not safe for you.”
Thandeka shrugged. “Is anywhere really safe?” She looked about, frowning. “Now where’s that girl? I have some things I need to tell her, before she leaves.”
Kiran frowned too, puzzled. “Yes. Where’s Noor?”
Thandeka strode off to the inner rooms, and Elke went out onto each of the balconies.
“She’s not out here,” she said as Thandeka called her daughter’s name down the corridor.
“I don’t remember when I last—” said Hugin.
“Oh, really now.” Maxwell looked out at the position of the sun. “We don’t have unlimited time. If she’s not here—” His eyebrows rose as Thandeka returned. “What is the matter?”
Elke, too, could see the shock on Thandeka’s face.
“She’s gone.” Thandeka held up a scrap of paper. “She left—” She sank down into Maxwell’s wheelchair as if her knees had given way. “She’s gone.”
“What’s this?” Hugin went to Thandeka’s side, bending over her with concern. “You’ve had a shock. Do you need—”
Thandeka pushed the note into his hand. “Read it,” she said. “Read it out loud.”
Hugin frowned but took the note and held it at arm’s length, taking a moment to find his focus. “Well,” he said. “That’s torn it.”
“What does it say!” Kiran said sharply.
“Sorry.” Hugin lifted his eyebrows and read out loud. “Mom. By the time you read this, I will be gone. I am sorry, I know you will be angry and disappointed, but I have to do what I know is right.”
Hugin glanced at Thandeka, but she’d lowered her face into her hands.
“The menha told me yesterday that if I wanted to work with them, I should meet them in the harbour today. Then they’ll take me with them. They need somebody like me, somebody who has a gift for languages. I’ll be working undercover, translating and helping get other slaves to places of safety. I am doing this to take your place here, so you can go back to the Eye and look after Isabeau and Ndlela. I hope you will understand. Give Issy and Ndlela my love.”
The silence that followed was underlined by the portal’s humming drone.
“Well,” said Kiran. “Seems your decision is made for you, Thandeka.”
“But, I—” Thandeka brushed the tears from her face. “I can’t— How can I leave here, when Noor—”
“Sounds like she’s already left,” said Maxwell.
“But how do I even know she reached the menha safely?” Thandeka got up so quickly that the chair wheeled back a few feet.
“There’s no time for that now,” said Maxwell.
“But couldn’t you open the portal again, later?”
“The earliest I can open it again is tomorrow evening at sunset, and that’s for Kiran to go to the Fata. That’s how I’ve always timed it, although usually the second use is for me to come back here from the Eye. After that, I can’t run it again for a month.”
“A month!” Thandeka put her hands over her mouth.
Elke had been studying the sky outside. “Listen,” she said to Maxwell. “How much longer, exactly, before we can go through the portal? At the very latest?” She heard herself say we and realised that she’d made her decision.
Thandeka was going to the Eye, and she’d have to go with her.
“Well.” Maxwell looked doubtfully at the portal. “I can probably let it cycle in place for a few more minutes, but—”
“Half an hour?” Elke jerked her head to indicate the sun. “That’s how long it’s going to be before sunset.” She turned to Thandeka. “That will give us enough time to go down to the harbour and back, won’t it?”
“The sunset is only a rough—” Maxwell saw the look on Thandeka’s face and cleared his throat. “Yes. Half an hour should do it.”
Elke and Thandeka were heading for the front door before he’d stopped speaking. They drew the bolts, and then they were out and hurrying down the stairs.
“I want to go by Esseret Sahd’s office on the way.” Thandeka panted as she clung to the stair railing.
“Do we have time?” asked Elke.
“It’s on the way. We’re much less likely to be stopped if we’re with him.”
They didn’t speak again until they reached the bottom of the stairs. By now, Elke recognised her surroundings. The corridor they turned into was the one that led to the Carsera’s entrance.
Thandeka led the way, trotting ahead of Elke. Several people turned as they passed, but luckily nobody tried to stop them.
“Here we are.” Thandeka knocked on a door and pushed it open. “Sadh!” She was out of breath, but still able to talk. “Come quickly. Will explain as we go.”
Esseret Sadh emerged and gave Elke a surprised nod of acknowledgement before Thandeka had him by the arm and hurried him down the corridor.
“Wait,” said Sadh, slowing to a halt. “What is going on? What’s wrong?”
“I have to go the harbour, there’s no time,” Thandeka gasped out. “I must go check if the menha are still there. My daughter—Noor— She’s gone and run off with them.”
Sadh pulled his arm out of her grasp. “But didn’t you know? She told me—”
“She told you?” Thandeka stared at him. “You knew?”
Esseret Sadh looked flustered. “Well, yes! I’m sure she told me... Or at least, she created the definite impression that she’d arranged it all with you.”
Thandeka let out an exasperated breath. “Well, she didn’t tell me. She just scarpered, leaving a note. But we must go, they might still be there—”
But Sadh was shaking his head. “The menha left. About an hour ago. And your daughter with them. If I’d known—”
“What am I supposed to do now?” Thandeka looked around as if she expected to find an answer somewhere in the empty corridor. “Listen. Sadh. I’m going to tell you something that you must not spread around. If Maxwell hears that I told you—”
She grabbed Esseret Sadh’s arm again and whispered in his ear. Elke could not make out her words, but she could guess from Esseret Sadh’s surprised reaction just what Thandeka was revealing to him.
“I— I don’t know what to say,” Sadh said when Thandeka finally released her grip on his arm. “This is a lot to take in.” He looked at Elke. “You’ve seen this— This thing?” He dropped his voice to a bare whisper, “This portal?”
Elke nodded. “Thandeka, we’ve got to get back.”
“Where are you going now?” Sadh asked a little plaintively.
“I’m going to the Eye,” said Thandeka as they all started back up the corridor again. “Maxwell set his—” she glanced around to check nobody was nearby. “I’m going through. Now. Back to the Babylon Eye.”
“You are?” Sadh cast a helpless look at Elke. “Can somebody please explain this to me?”
“I wanted to stay here,” Thandeka said. “I wanted to continue my work with you and send Noor back to the Eye. My other children are there, you remember— Isabeau and Ndlela.”
“I remember,” said Sadh.
They’d reached the stairs, and Thandeka needed all her breath to climb, so Elke took over the explanation.
“Noor’s forced Thandeka’s hand. That’s why she ran off with the menha. She thinks that if she continues doing something similar to what Thandeka was doing, helping liberate some slaves, Thandeka will have no reason to stay. She did it so that Thandeka will go back to the Eye to be with her brother and sister.”
“Huh,” said Esseret Sadh. “Like mother, like daughter.”
Thandeka shot him an unimpressed look but had no breath to spare for argument.
Esseret Sadh supported her with a hand under her arm. “You know,” he said as he helped Thandeka up the last of the steps. “I think maybe your daughter did the best thing after all.”
Thandeka looked at him in breathless outrage.
“No. Listen,” said Sadh. “This way, you all get out of the city. This war is not going to be a joke, Thandeka. The siege, and who knows what else? And you can do a lot of good at the other side of that gate. Find out who is responsible for the slavery in your world. Get it at the source, as it were!”
Thandeka had clearly not considered this. She put a hand on her heaving chest and stared up at Sadh.
“Is that the portal?” Sadh looked ‘round. “I think I can hear it.�
��
It was true. Even out here, beyond the heavy front door, a faint singing was audible, accompanied by a bone-deep vibration.
Another sound caught Elke’s ear, and she frowned in surprise. “Do you have dogs in the Carsera?” she asked Esseret Sadh.
“Dogs?” said Sadh. “There are a few, yes. But why?”
“No. I thought I heard— Never mind.” Elke tried to open the front door, and found it locked. “Oh, why the hell—” She hammered on the door.
“Do you think we’re still in time?” asked Thandeka. “Oh, Sadh, you better go before Maxwell sees you here. He mustn’t know you know about his portal.”
“That’s true.” Esseret Sadh squeezed Thandeka’s shoulder. “Good luck, Thandeka. Go well. It has been an honour, working with you.”
Before Thandeka could find what she wanted to say in reply, Esseret Sadh set off down the stairs.
A muffled voice sounded from beyond the door, and there was a scrape of bolts.
Sadh, some way down the stairs, exclaimed in surprise. Somebody else was coming up, and in a hurry, from the sound of it. This time, the gardag’s bark was unmistakable.
“Meisje!” Elke wheeled round.
The door was flung open. Hugin stood there, with Kiran just behind him. “Hurry,” said Hugin. “The portal—”
Elke staggered back as a white whirlwind exploded into her arms. “Meisje!” She went down on her knees, trying to contain the dancing, whirling, whining gardag.
“Meisje, how— What are you—? Elke stopped trying to speak and buried her face in Meisje’s trembling body as the gardag whimpered in her arms.
Instinctively, they mind-linked and Elke allowed herself to be swept up in the storm of sensation that was Meisje’s world.
“Ah.” A man heaved himself up the last of the steps. “Veraart.”
Elke reluctantly severed the link, forcing down the disorientation that always followed. “Argent! What the hell—” She was back on her feet again. “How did you get here?”
“Meisje brought me here. She followed your scent.” Argent looked at the people now crowding the front door. “Where is Jinan?”
Elke hesitated, and Kiran cut in. “Maybe we should all get inside.”
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