The Urban Safari – 5. Enter the hostage negotiator.
Emmanuelle sighed, philosophically. She reminded herself of the Assassins' School credo Knowledge dispels fear, (1) and reflected that at least she was learning new and potentially useful things.
It didn't make her feel very much better.
She was painfully aware that wide open spaces and large animals were Johanna's department. She knew little, except that the thing to do when attacked by a hungry lion was to beat it off with fire, or climb a tree very quickly indeed. At least she had six student Assassins with her, who, vexingly, all knew more about this subject than she did.
Emmanuelle reflexively checked her sword was still there. At least she knew that inside-out. Indeed, she taught it at the Guild: the students with her had all been in her classes in Elementary Swordsmanship. But I have never been in theirs in Animal Handling. As a Guild teacher, though, it would have been unthinkable, a disgrace, to allow students into a place of danger while the teacher found an excuse to back out. She had to be there, even knowing nothing, as she did.
She sighed again, resigned, and reviewed the absurdities that had led her to the Guild. In one mad night, she had bet a lot of money she did not in fact have, and had no means of repaying, and lost it all, in an absurd rush of blood to the head, in a gambling casino. Owned by the accursed troll, Chrysophrase.
Who had made her an offer she could not, in the circumstances, refuse.
You good wit' swords. You become my contract killer. You repay der money dat way. Then you free to go and you have der gratitude of Chrysophrase.
She had killed seven times for the troll. By the seventh and last, the Tanty Bugle was calling her The Black Widow and she knew that both the Watch and the Assassins' Guild were actively hunting for her. On the night of her last kill, with the troll having said that this would discharge her debt, she had evaded the Watch, only to run into the Assassins' Guild, who were out in force hunting for her. Downey said he had seventy Assassins out chasing me. Seventy! She allowed herself a moment's pride.
Her pursuers, by sheer weight of numbers, had steered her across the rooftops back to the Guild. Where Downey had been waiting for her, to offer her a choice of joining the Guild as a mature entrant. Or being tied hand and foot, and left at the door of Pseudopolis Yard, with a dossier of evidence pinned to her clothing.
She had opted to join the Guild, reflecting that she'd far rather be inside and enjoying its protection, than outside and receiving its professional attentions. She had trained and qualified, and to her surprise had found herself actively enjoying teaching such capable and energetic and cheerful young people. And here she was…(2)
Just before her group had set off into the Park, Johanna Smith-Rhodes had called over Heidi van Kruger, and they'd had a short spiky discussion in that teeth-grinding native language of theirs. Johanna had looked over at Emmanuelle, and Heidi had nodded. She thought she could guess what had been said.
Be diplomatic. She is still your teacher. But make it clear that you know the most about these animals. Madame Deux-Épées will understand and who knows, she may even be grateful!
A strange low ululating howl resounded in the distance. Miss van Kruger touched her arm and drew her attention to the way a distant copse of trees had suddenly erupted with birds scared into flight.
"I hear baboon. And something hes scared the birds over there!"
Emmanuelle nodded.
"And what do you propose?" she asked. Miss van Kruger nodded.
"Miss Smith-Rhodes hes said not to epproach the baboons just yet" she said. "For now, we do whet we cen with the enimels we cen menege."
She turned, and passed the word along to "move forward. Carefully".
They moved steadily on, applying tranquiliser darts to two leopards and a juvenile lion, marking the sites with red flags so as to attract the follow-up squads of Assassins and Watchmen who they knew would soon be following on. A broomstick circled overhead: the Wizard. I hope he has good eyesight with those thick glasses.
Miss van Kruger stopped them within fifty yards of the suspicious wood. Trails led into it, but it otherwise stretched between the perimeter wall with the Soake and the turnwise shore of the lake. There appeared to be no safe way through or around it. And everything was suspiciously silent.
She conferred with Emmanuelle, who listened intently.
"Madame, I believe it would be foolish end overconfident to enter the wood. If dangerous apes are in there, they outnumber us, end they can etteck us from above. A baboon is very much stronger then a humen, end cepeble of biting a person's arm off, and they ere territorial enimels. I strongly recommend we either wait here for reinforcements, or else we retreck, and go around the other side of the lake."
Emmanuelle had the uneasy feeling that this was a young lady who would end up on the School staff in a few years. She nodded, and said
"Perhaps we can wave that broomstick down when he passes over again. We should find out if he has seen anything in the trees."
They settled down to wait. After twenty minutes or so, the first follow-up squad caught up with them. It was composed of half Assassins and half Watchmen. Eight of them were carrying cages, strong but relatively light rectangular boxes, carried by poles slotted underneath the structure. These allowed for four people to share the load, one to each corner. The remaining four, two Assassins and two Watchmen, had fanned out to either side as escort.
The lance-constable in charge, a strongly built human woman, saluted Emmanuelle.
"Lance-Constable Jolson, ma'am. Commander Vimes said to give you every assistance."
"Eh bien!" said Emmanuelle. She'd seen Precious Jolson about the streets: she stood well over six feet tall and had a build to match. Unlike her father, restauranteur "All" Jolson, none of it was fat. It was said Precious had the muscles of a troll: Emmanuelle didn't doubt it. (3)
Heidi van Kruger took her arm. "Look!"
Shambling man-like shapes were moving in the shade at the edge of the wood. They had elongated snouts and, as one threw back its head to roar a challenge, Emmanuelle also saw they had large wicked fangs.
"Defensive position! Now!" she shouted, as the number of creatures increased. She reached for her sword. Suddenly, a large dog-shaped creature emerged from the wood, evaded a chasing baboon, smelt or saw nearby humans, and raced hard for them.
"Attention! Tirez-pas au loup! Do not shoot the wolf!" Emmanuelle shouted, remembering her briefing. The Watchman next to her gave her a knowing grin.
"Wouldn't dare, ma'am. She gets annoyed at that sort of thing!"
The large golden wolf burst through the circle of Watchmen and Assassins, and gave Emmanuelle a more intelligent and appraising look than she would have thought was possible from a canine. It had a quality of impatience about it, as if it was expecting Emmanuelle to figure something out that should be self-evident to any thinking rational woman.
Precious Jolson stepped to her side. She leaned down slightly and spoke, softly, into Emmanuelle's ear.
"Er.. Madame Deux-Épées… I think she wants to change to human. She doesn't like anyone watching. And something else you should be aware of… she won't have any clothes available. There are men here."
Emmanuelle got the idea instantly. She took her cloak off and said "I understand. Will this do for now?"
The wolf nodded, in a very human way. Emmanuelle noted the baboons were cautiously approaching, although slowly.
"And ALL Assassins and ALL Watchmen, and I mean ALL, will have the kindness to face outwards and will NOT try to look over their shoulders! ESPECIALLY the men! Allez! Vite! Regardez les singes!"
The wolf slipped inside the circle. Emmanuelle took care not too look, but made the courtesy of holding her cloak in an extended left arm. After a few seconds it was taken. A voice with a slight Überwaldean accent said "Thank you. Have you got a belt I can hold this in place with?"
"I cen offer you some spere clothes, miss," Heidi van Kruger said, taking off her pack. "I do not believe thet cloak is enough."
"Thank you" Angua said, receiving the offered tunic and trousers gratefully. The cloak wasn't: it gaped in front in a most distracting way. Emmanuelle realised the males present would be distracted by entirely the wrong things at a time when they needed to be focused on a threat. This would not do.
"Mr Edale- Derbyshire!" Emmanuelle shouted, a teacher again. "Is there perhaps something wrong with your hearing, hmm? I said to face your front!"
A male student Assassin blushed red to his ears, but did what he was told. Emmanuelle watched while Angua doffed the cloak, and put on the offered Assassin clothing.
Alice Band has been eager for a chance to see Sergeant Angua naked, but she has never managed it, Emmanuelle thought, mischievously. I will relish the look on her face when I so casually tell her I have seen what she has not, and I will tell her as if it is no great matter!
"You also need footwear" Heidi said, practically. "What size do you take?"
"Fives, I think" Angua said. At least three of the girl students reached into their packs for the light, durable, leather pumps all girl Assassins carried for those times when a silent stealthy approach argued against boots. They looked like ballerina shoes, enclosing only the heel and sides of the foot with a minimal toe, leaving the upper part of the foot bare, but they would serve.
Courtesies over, the Watch sergeant and the Assassin teacher appraised each other. Emmanuelle was a Quirmian: part of her genes carried the memory of all the times Überwaldeans had over-run her country, humiliatingly defeating the Quirmian army and even more humiliatingly for Quirmian pride, making them dependent on Ankh-Morpork to come in and throw the Überwaldeans out again. Therefore she had a certain froideur towards the country and its people, even though the last time Quirm had even briefly been a part of the Dark Unholy Empire had been 1944, long before her birth. (4)
"You people are in charge, according to Mr Vimes." Angua said, reassuringly. "I don't have a problem with that. Miss Smith-Rhodes really knows her business, and I see from the purple you're also from the Guild school. So what do you recommend we do?"
"We deter these monkeys, I think." Emmanuelle said. "Although Miss Smith-Rhodes is absolutely insistent we do not kill unless we have to."
"I've just come out of those woods" Angua said. "Barely. I have certain skills, and they gave me the edge. Although Miss Smith-Rhodes will find one dead ape in there. I really had no other choice."
Angua remembered the sour metallic taste of the ape blood in her mouth, and shuddered. "Does anyone have water?"
She had entered the woods with caution and all her wolf-senses working overtime. She had picked up the acrid, nauseous, stench of feral apes very quickly. A lot of feral apes. Seeking a quick withdrawal, she ran into the pack's scouts, who had responded to the signals telling them predator! Smells like hyena but not-hyena, smells like Basenji-dog but not basenji, smells like human but not completely human. Threat!
The werewolf-growl had made them stop, recognising a really primal threat, but then one, braver or stupider than the rest, possibly the pack leader, had howled, bared its great fangs, and leapt for her. Seeing the bared teeth, the big bared teeth, Angua as wolf had responded to the threat with a practical demonstration of what a wolf was capable of, so you apes had better learn from this!
Knowing she had only one chance before the ape's teeth tore into her, Angua had tensed, leapt, and ripped its throat out, the howl dying in bloody choking surprise. After that she had just run for her life, recognising the mixed party of Watchmen and Assassins, with the tiny part of her that was still human registering friends.
And now the human part was feeling guilt at killing an animal that was doing, when you got right down to it, only what its nature dictated. She usually had a choice.
Heidi van Kruger nodded, sympathetically, mature for her sixteen years.
"You really hed no choice, madam. Wolves are not known beck home. You do not know baboons. You hed to prove superior strength with them, or else they would hev killed you. At least they now know wolves are not to be trifled with. Beck home in Howondaland, we treat baboons with respect, end give them a wide berth. We try not to kill them, like we try with ell our wildlife, but sometimes there is really no elternetive. Miss Smith-Rhodes knows this and she will understend."
"Thank you." said Angua, passing the water bottle back.
The baboon pack was now circling them, just out of effective blowpipe range.
Emmanuelle made her decision.
"All Assassins. Prepare and load blowpipes with the tranquiliser darts. Have your swords or crossbows to hand for the moment when you may need them. All Watchmen, please be so kind as to load your crossbows, safety catches off – I may give that command, Sergeant Angua?"
"Do as she says. That's my order." Angua said.
"But do not fire unless commanded. You will, I think, know the moment."
"Do not let them get close enough to bite or grepple". Heidi van Kruger added. "They ere stronger then humans and their bite cen maim or kill. Their claws are filthy and a deep scretch or gouge will go septic. I believe we mey hev to kill here."
The baboons carried on circling the mixed group of humans. Emmanuelle counted at least eighteen, the largest man-sized. She loosened her sword in its scabbard and the corresponding dirk at her left side. She knew where she was with her swords. She passed the redundant crossbow to Angua, who accepted it with thanks. They watched the great apes, nerves taut.
And then, with ear-splitting whoops, they attacked.
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Having seen CMOT Dibbler ushered into a comfortable cell at the Palace, Captain Carrot hastened to Hide Park. He reflected, stopped, and put out an emergency clacks signal for all Special Constables who were immediately available to report to the command post at the park gates. He thought some more, and . added a second priority clacks, for the Watch Igor and any other available Igors to report there with medical equipment. A little intuition was telling him that medical support would be needed before the day was out.
He had not been walking long before the first of the Specials met him on the Brass Bridge. This particular constable saluted, and inquired as to the nature of the emergency.
Carrot told him as they walked.
"Oook ook ook?"
"Well, I assume so. The briefing at the Palace referred to large cats, rhinoceri, and other examples of Howondalandian wildlife. I would assume that includes, er, simians. I understand the term includes both lesser monkeys and the true apes, so there's a strong chance, yes."
"OOK! Ook ook ook ook OOK?"
Carrot smiled at the Librarian.
"Don't raise your hopes, though. The briefing notes were clear that these are only Howondalandian animals. Orangs aren't from Howondaland, I understand?"
The Librarian shrugged, which for someone of his build was very expressive.
"Oook ook ook!" he said, which Carrot interpreted as "that's not the point. Any apes in there are still family."
An idea was beginning to form in Carrot's brain. He didn't share it with the librarian: he wanted to run it past that fierce, clever, Howondalandian girl first, to see if it was feasible. What if…
They passed a greengroce'rs shop.
The Librarian pulled at Carrot's arm, excitedly, to get him to stop.
"What is it? Oh…."
Carrot followed the Librarian into the shop. The owner was responding to the Librarian with all the alarm and apprehension which the owner of a greengrocer's s'hop is perfectly entitled to feel, when a large ape known to appreciate bananas and other soft fruit (but bananas for preference) ru'shes into the store, and begins to pull down enormous hands of the aforementioned s'oft fruit from the hook's upon which they are suspended.
"Here, you!" the proprietor shouted. "I hope you intend to pay for tho'se good's!" (5)
He leapt from behind the counter, with the intention of dis'pos'sess'ing the Librarian of the banana's.
A long hairy red arm flicked out and cas'ually knocked him over. It held a Watch badge for his inspection.
Carrot, who now appreciated what the Librarian was up to, wheeled in a barrow from the front of the shop. The Librarian dropped four full hands of bananas' onto the trolley, and as an afterthought added s'everal boxes of peache's, plum's and apricot's.
The proprietor made a dizzy move to get onto his feet again. The Librarian smiled at him, amiably baring a lot of teeth.
"I'm terribly sorry about this, Mr S'medley!" Carrot said. "But I have reason to requisition everything we need from your shop's stock in the name of the City. Please make an accurate invoice for what we've taken and direct the bill to the Palace. Thank you!"
"Think nothing of it, Captain Carrot!" Mr 'Smedley said, weakly.
"Thank you for your co-operation!" Carrot said, amiably, as he and the Librarian wheeled the barrow in the direction of Hide Park.
They picked up several more Specials as they walked, Carrot briefing them on the situation.
"By the way, what's that, Lance-Constable Hancock?"
The keenest Special saluted.
"It's a Toledean bolas, sir!" he said. "You whirl the ropes, right, and the weights on the end wrap around the running criminal, he get entangled in the ropes, he falls over, we arrest him. They use it on the pampas for capturing horses and llamas, sir!"
"What, like Hubland monks?" said another Special. "Thought they were really law-abiding?"
"No, no. Llamas. They're a sort of pack-animal over in the Toledan country. Out towards Genua."
"No, you've got it wrong, Andy! Llamedos is the other direction, where they speak funny and spit a lot…"
Carrot smiled, and left them bickering.
They got to the gates of the Park. Vimes had set up his command-post there, and Carrot saw he had been joined not only by the Watch Igor, but by the new Igorina who had recently been appointed Matron at the Assassins' Guild School. They were talking shop.
"I don't know about you, but when I realised Miss Smith-Rhodes had brought a lot of students out here, I just knew I'd be needed!" she said. "Every time I've been on a Nature Trail with her, I've had an interesting injury to deal with. She never disappoints. And with Madame Deux-Épées out there too… well, let's just say I make sure the surgery is available for after she's taught a class in Elementary Swordsmanship. They get better as they get older, but give new students a sword with a blade on, and there's always a finger or two to stitch back on! At least! You'd be amazed."
"Oh, I don't know" said the Watch Igor. "You should see what I have to deal with at the Watch School. We have the same problem with new recruits and swords. And crossbows. And Mr Hancock over there, hi Andy!, he gave me a really interesting reattachment after he took the Agatean swords on parade with him. Let's just say Lance-Constable Piggle never stands next to Andy in the muster these days!"
Vimes was watching with interest.
"Hold on, the both of you" he said. "You have just been talking to each other for ten minutes and I've yet to hear a single lisp! What's going on?"
"Oh, really, Commander Vimeth!" said Igorina. "I can put it on for you if it maketh you feel better, and I know thome cuthtomerth feel better for hearing it, but it simply isn't necessary!"
"We're modern Igors, sir!" Igor said, reproachfully. "I mean, many of my father's generation still can't accept that an Igorina is as capable as an Igor!"
"But you do, though. Why don't you.. you know… come over and see my surgery at the Assasins' Guild? They've given me a lot of space. With a cellar for my private lab!" Igorina said, thoughtfully, trying to get her eyes to meet Igor's. Their hands were having more luck, though, and had clasped. Vimes sighed, anticipating there'd soon be another whip-round for a Watchman getting engaged or married. He very deliberately looked elsewhere.
"What's with the fruit-stall, Carrot? A side business?"
"No, sir. The Librarian's idea, sir! He reckons he can get any apes in there to give themselves up peacefully. Hostage negotiation, I suppose you could call it. These are the inducements!"
The Librarian saluted Vimes, then very purposefully slung two hands of bananas over his back. He took a step towards the gate.
"Don't you need an escort or anything?" Vimes asked. "I mean, there are lions and things out there."
"Less than there were, in fairness. Patrols coming out at the other gates are bringing out cages full of doped animals. We're going to have a problem as to where we send them all. I mean, a lion in parts of this city is in trouble. It'll be an ornamental fur rug and a shelf-full of Agatean medicines by morning!" said Sergeant Cheery Littlebottom.
"In which case, that Howondalandian woman is going to want my guts for garters." Vimes mused. "And wouldn't you know it, I bet with a temper like hers, she'd be the first Assassin to get me!" He paused, visualising a really angry Johanna Smith-Rhodes, It was not a prospect that comforted. He dragged his mind back to immediate police matters.
"But you need an escort, Constable."
"Ooook!" the Librarian said, which all present interpreted as "An ape's gotta do what an ape's gotta do".
Resolutely, he knuckled into the park, the bananas slung at his back. Vimes let him get a couple of hundred yards in.
"Sergeant Detritus, follow him, discreetly and inobtrusively. Don't intervene unless it looks like he's run into trouble he can't handle. Let him have space to do what he needs to do. Don't alarm any animals he appears to be speaking to."
"Sir!" said Detritus, saluting. Vimes summoned up Constable Bluejohn to replace Detritus on large-animal-alert, and started scanning the skies again for the return of that dratted woman on the broomstick. At least that poor bloody wizard is the one getting it in the neck from her, he thought.
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I may add more to this chapter, or I may end it here (it's long enough) and put it all in Chapter Six. Watch this space...
(1) Knowledge Dispels Fear is a motto used by the British Army's special forces. Ideal for use by Assassins on the Disc.
(2) See my novella The Graduation Class for the full story.
(3) Watchwoman Precious Jolson appears in "Thud!", as another background character. Fred Colon speaks highly of her physical strength.
(4) Sorry to French and German readers. Couldn't resist this.
(5) The peculiarly Britis'h phenomena of the Groce'rs Apos'trophe which i's randomly and hopefully ins'erted wherever the letter "s" tur'ns up in a di'scours'e , but never in the grammatically correct place, is' dis'cuss'ed at length in Terry Pratchetts novels'.