Chapter Fourteen
'You put him on board Lion Rampant?' Van said. 'But I left Meruru there!'
'She'll be perfectly fine,' Serena assured him. 'He's under lock and key, since he tried to bite Gadeth, the little rat. And there's not much he could do to her anyway. He's a scrawny little thing under all those stinking rags. Do you think you can carry another couple of rods?'
They were collecting rods of Energist from a supply closet on the fourth floor. Serena said they needed them to make the emergency generator go, and all its rods were either spent or cracked. Cracked ones were dangerous because they sometimes arced energy onto nearby conductive objects. Fortunately, more were stored in an area that looters didn't seem to have reached.
'Why does it take so many?' Van asked. 'It sounds pretty inefficient to me.'
'Once we get the emergency generator up it'll light this whole building and probably make the machinery work too,' Serena said. 'When you invent the lightbulb, then you can come and criticise our systems.'
'I guess it feels good for you to be home,' Van said dryly.
'What do you mean by that?' She looked at him suspiciously over the slipping stack of rods she was balancing in her arms.
'Well, you said our systems. You must be feeling proud of Zaibach.'
'It was a slip of the tongue and you know it,' she said. 'Let's just get the rods to the generator and not talk to each other.' She opened the door with her foot, a precarious manoeuvre, and leaned against it to hold it open for him.
'You do like being here, though,' he said as he sidled by. 'You keep running around showing people stuff and saying "Oh, I know where that is!", all proud and chuffed. You should just admit it.'
'I'm enjoying being useful,' Serena said. 'It's a good feeling to be able to help everyone. You know perfectly well that it feels nice to be important.'
'Fair enough,' he conceded. 'But I'm going to be watching you. I think you like all this stuff a little too much.'
She sighed peevishly. 'Look, of course I feel comfortable here. I have ten years of memories of places like this versus five and a half of Asturia. People seem to keep forgetting about the duration of it. Halls like this seem normal to me. Being able to turn on a light with a switch in the wall seems normal to me. If it's not things that I can objectively see now were wrong and weird, like the hitting and the screaming and the burning, the things that Dilandau accepted as normal are still down as normal in my book. The gaslights in Asturia, now. They seem right enough to me, but old-fashioned. There are still a lot of gaslights around here and they were used a lot of the time on the floating fortresses. Electricity's just more efficent and reliable for a city. Normally we - they generate it from wind and water turbines, and that way it's an endless resource, so Energists can be reserved for military hardware that needs a self-contained power source, or for emergency use like this.' She nodded to a pair of closed double doors they were passing. 'That's an elevator, like a dumbwaiter for people to ride in. When we've got the power on we won't have to climb the stairs to get up and down in the building. It'll make it a lot easier to investigate the underground levels.'
'Whee,' said Van. 'I can hardly wait. All right, I'll give you the electricity. Still well, don't you just have that feeling the whole time you're here, that this is not a good place? It makes my back creep.'
'There are places in this building where I'm not happy to be, yes,' she said. 'I'm really not looking forward to going underground because that's where the sorcerors worked.'
'I guess Folken spent a lot of time down there once,' Van said. They both got quiet for a while, walking on through the winding halls, climbing the dark staircases. The Energist rods gave off a soft pink light, but it didn't go far. The generator room was on the seventh floor, three levels further up.
'There's no thirteenth floor,' Serena remarked as they reached the sixth floor. 'Because thirteen is considered unlucky on the Phantom Moon. So the floors just go from twelve to fourteen. Every multi-storey building in the country is numbered that way. It's funny, the kinds of details you've got to think of when you're constructing an empire on the manipulation of luck and destiny.'
'Funny's not the word,' said Van. 'I'll be glad when we've got some lights on in here.'
Rafel was finishing off the food when Meruru got back with the key to the brig door. He'd decided that, if Migel was dead too, it might not be such a bad thing to die himself, and of course, if the food wasn't poisoned, then he would have had a good meal. The logic of that didn't trouble him too much at the moment. It was more than he'd had to eat all at once for ages. His stomach hurt a little when he'd stuffed it all down, but he didn't think he was going to throw up.
'Gosh,' said Meruru through the grille. 'You were hungry. I've got the key, but I'm warning you, I've also got a guard with me so you can't try to run away or do anything dumb. You wait back there while we get the door open.' Rafel sat on the bench and heard metal moving, a key turning in a lock and a bar being lifted. The door opened and now he could see all of Meruru, backed up by a burly man, shaven-headed but not the Shaven-Head he'd seen on the roof. There might be a lot of Freid warriors around. Meruru was a little shorter than he himself - he hadn't been able to tell, and to his surprise, she seemed about his age. He wasn't sure why he'd thought she'd be older, because she didn't have an old-sounding voice. She was wearing a loose orange dress with black spots on it, a waist-length brown leather jacket and sheepskin boots with the fleece side inside that came up to her knees. She looked a little wild, as you would expect from a beast of Fanelia. She was wearing more clothes than he would have expected for a catgirl, though, which made her seem a bit civilised.
'Come on, then,' she said. 'I've got some water heating up so you can have a bath.'
Of course there wasn't a real bathroom on board a ship, but there was a tin hip-bath in front of a glowing pot-bellied stove in a cabin. Meruru left him with a big jug of hot water, a bar of orange soap, two towels and the news that she was going to find some clothes that would fit him. The monk-guard was going to stay outside the door till she got back. Rafel looked conscientiously around the room once he was alone, trying to see anything he could use to effect an heroic escape, but what he really wanted to do was get scrubbing, so he shelved that idea for the time being and concentrated on getting out of the layers of his clothes. Some of them were held on with string, and the knots had pulled tight with wear so he had to cut the strings with his pocket knife. Everything was greasy and smelled rank. The layers fell heavily on the floor like dead things.
He emptied out his assorted pockets as he went, finding a few things he'd forgotten he was keeping. He put all the important things together in a pile - his knife, the same kind they used in the Army; the small picture frame with the family portrait in it, from before Migel was selected; the group picture of the Dragonslayers that was in the paper when war was declared, folded and refolded so many times that the newsprint was wearing off along the creases; his social security card and Mum's necklace, wadded up in grubby tissue-paper. He kicked everything else into a big heap at the side of the room. The air was colder the further he got from the stove so he hurried back.
He hadn't had all his clothes off for ages and it was shocking how dirty he was; somehow the dirt got through all those rags, or maybe it came out of them. He had a lot of fleabites. Thank God he'd never got scabies or ringworm. Rafel hadn't had a chance to have a bath in months, but he hadn't actually taken one for years because he preferred showers. He wasn't totally sure how to manage the pitcher and the bath at first, but he decided in the end to stand in the bath, pour a little water over himself to get wet enough to make lather, soap and scrub all over and then rinse off. At the end of that he was ankle-deep in warm, opaque grey water, with a sort of sheen on the surface, his skin was still greyish and he hadn't even gotten to his hair and face. Still, he felt a lot fresher. He wrapped a towel round his hips and went to the door, which he opened a crack, and put his head out. The guard was standing against the other side of the corridor, watching the door, and Meruru was leaning next to him with a bag on the floor at her feet.
'You don't look like you've even started,' she said indignantly. Of course, his head was all she could see.
'I need more hot water,' he explained. 'I've run out and I'm only half clean.'
'Wow,' she said. 'I gave you lots to start with.' But she went away to bring more.
Two more pitchers later Rafel was really clean at last. In fact, he had given himself one more complete going-over just as a luxury. The bar of soap was down to a sliver. His hair had been tangled to begin with, and washing it had made the tangles into knots, but he couldn't do anything about that. Maybe he could just get it cut off now. Meruru had given him the bag of clothes with the second pitcher, so he turned his attention to those. They were about the right size, perhaps a little big. She had even given him a choice of things. He put on undershorts, feeling strange about the fact that they must be borrowed from someone, thick grey socks, a heavy khaki flannel shirt and dark-brown trousers. There were no shoes in the bag and he didn't want to put on the old galosh and bedroom-slipper he'd been making do with lately, so he just left it at the socks. He put the small things in his pockets, slid the Dragonslayers cutting into the back of the picture frame and held that in his hands. He couldn't do any more. He'd have to go out.
'You look a lot better now,' Meruru said when he emerged into the corridor, 'but what happened to your hair? It's like felt.'
'I really just need to get it cut off,' he said. He was caught between feeling very grateful to her for making him so much more comfortable, and trying to stay suspicious and wary in case this was a trap.
'I can cut it for you,' she said. 'I cut Van-sama's hair for him last time. He said I made it too short, but you want short, right? Are the clothes a good fit?'
'Yes - thanks.'
'They're Van-sama's too. I thought he'd be the closest to your size. I hope he won't mind me lending them to you. I had to go over to the other ship to get them, but don't tell him I went outside.'
'I'm wearing his clothes?'
'Don't get sniffy about that,' Meruru warned him. 'They're a lot better than what you had on before. We'll have to burn those. Let's go and find some scissors.'
It was when she was making a haphazard attempt to at least break some of the clumps with a comb before starting to cut that Meruru suddenly exclaimed 'Oh, eurgh!'
'What?'
'You've got nits,' she said. 'You're crawling with them. Some of them have got wings. Yuck!' She stepped back fast, in case of contamination.
Rafel shrank down in his borrowed clothes with shame. The monk guard, who had kept watch over them all the time, suddenly stepped forward, pulling a curved dagger out of his belt. Rafel half leapt, half fell off the chair Meruru had put him in and shot into the corner of the room.
'You kill people for having nits?' he yelped.
'Of course not,' said the guard, looking bewildered. 'Your head will have to be shaved. This is what I do mine with. Except yours will be all over.' There was a small, oiled topknot of straight black hair at the crown of his smooth skull.
So Rafel was systematically shorn. The infested clumps of hair fell on the floor, where Meruru swept them into a dustpan with many grimaces of disgust, to be dumped into the fire. Finally he was as bald as an egg, and the guard put the dagger away with a little smile of satisfaction.
'Not one nick,' he said. 'I can do that on myself easily, but you've got different headbumps.'
'My head isn't bumpy,' Rafel said. His scalp felt very cold and naked.
'At least it isn't lousy any more,' Meruru said cheerfully.
'Don't call me lousy,' he said. He'd suddenly had enough. He wanted to be by himself and maybe cry some more. He shouldn't be letting her talk to him like that. 'I don't have to take that from a flea-ridden little bitch from Fanelia.' There was no way she could know about his own fleas. He was hoping they were all gone, drowned.
'Stupid,' said Meruru. 'Bitches are female dogs. A female cat is called a queen.' She pulled down the corner of her right eye and stuck her tongue out at him.
'Queen of Fleas,' he said, lamely, but he couldn't let an insult like that go by.
'Better than King of Cooties.' She turned to the monk guard. 'Will you keep an eye on him, please? You can lock him in and go to bed if you need to.'
'Thank you, but I'm used to long nights,' the monk said. 'I won't let him get up to anything.' He smiled politely and gave Meruru a little salute.
'Thank you,' Meruru said. 'Well,' she said to Rafel, 'I tried to be nice to you, but I guess you don't know about gratitude in Zaibach. So good night.' She flounced out.
'Get bent!' Rafel yelled after her.
'Oh, shut up,' said the monk. 'You really are an unpleasant little boy. You don't even realise how well you've been treated.'
'I'm not a little boy,' Rafel growled. 'I'm thirteen. Legally I'm an adult.'
'Well, if that's Zaibach law, I wouldn't say it counts for much any more,' the monk said. 'And even legal adults who call girls names like Queen of Fleas are, in my book, silly little boys. You should go to bed. You're up far too late.'
Rafel gave him a cold stare. He was just thinking of something cutting to say when he heard a loud sound from outside the ship. It was the chime that always preceded an announcement on the city's public-address system. This cabin had a porthole, too small to climb through of course, but he ran to it and wrenched it open to hear better. The monk followed and put a restraining hand on his shoulder.
The chime sounded again, as though whoever was operating the PA was not sure of the procedure, or was just making extra sure everyone would be listening. Then a voice spoke, a female voice crackling out of tannoy speakers all over the city, startling people who had assumed the system was long dead. The denizens of the city - they could not really be called citizens any more - had been watching the ships with deep suspicion but were disinclined to try to do anything prematurely. They knew something was really up when the Capitol lights came on. Caution was a way of life these days, and they wanted to know more before they made any advances, welcoming or hostile. They were getting what they wanted.
'May we have your attention, please. There is no cause for alarm, I repeat, no cause for alarm. This is the first broadcast of the Asturia-Fanelia-Freid Allied Intervention Force. We have established our base in the Capitol and wish to make contact with local leaders or law enforcement officers. This is not an invasion or an occupation. We have come to help.'
There was a sort of muffled noise as though the speaker had put her hand over the microphone while someone spoke to her. The listeners heard a faint 'okay,' then the sound cleared and the speaker came back on.
'This is Asturian Crown Representative Serena Schezar Finn speaking. With me are Freid's Crown Representative Brother Ailo and Fanelian Crown Representative Van Fa - what? If you must. Talk into this.'
A boy's voice, rather closer to the microphone so you could hear his amplified breathing, said 'Van Slanzar de Fanel. King of Fanelia.'
'We do stress,' said the Asturian representative, 'that we are not seeking reparations or reprisal for the recent war. It is safe for all residents of Zaibach whose intentions are peaceful to approach us.'
'Yeah, right,' said various people around the city.
'We have supplies of food, clothing and medicine which we are willing to share. You are invited to come to the Capitol steps at ten tomorrow morning, where they will be distributed among you. We have come in a spirit of peace and co-operation. We hope we can rely on similar co-operation from you. Thank you for your attention. That will be all for now.' The announcement ended with a recorded bird-call, as announcements always had, and then the tannoys fell silent again.
'What was that?' Van asked.
'What was what?' Serena switched off the transmitter.
'That twitter at the end.'
'I think it was a meadow-lark,' said Brother Ailo. 'Or it might have been a sky-lark.'
'There's always a recorded bird-call at the end of announcements,' Serena said. 'The system's set up to do it automatically, on rotate. It's just how it is.'
'It's not some kind of signal?' Van pressed.
'No, it's just a dumb bird. It was supposed to sound nice, I guess. Believe it or not, some things in Zaibach are just meant to be nice.'
'It's rather a good idea,' said Ailo. 'It lets you know the announcement's over and you can get on with your day. And it can't be confused with the starting chime.'
'Thank you,' said Serena. 'I rest my case. Let's get out of here - this is far too cramped for three people.' The transmitter room had really only been designed for one announcer, with enough room for someone to stand behind him or her passing over new sheets of copy. Van and Ailo were both wedged into that space, leaning over Serena's shoulders. They backed out and she followed them. As they came out she yawned hugely.
'It feels like I've been up longer than I've been alive.' It was well past midnight now. Actually, it was well past two, she discovered when she fished out her pocket-watch.
'You should go to bed,' Brother Ailo said. 'You weren't well this morning.'
'She was hung over this morning,' said Van. 'I heard about what you did last night.'
'You're such a fuddy-duddy for a boy your age,' said Serena. 'Or else you just have a blanket disapproval policy for everything I do. I believe I will go to bed.'
'Van-sama, you need your rest too,' Ailo said respectfully. 'I will be staying up and overseeing matters here. If anyone comes to speak to us, you will be informed as soon as possible.'
'All right,' said Van. To tell the truth, he was terribly sleepy. 'Thank you.'
'Yay,' said Serena, 'no walking up to the roof. We get to ride the elevator.' She headed down the corridor to a set of double doors like those she had indicated earlier, and pressed a button set into the wall beside them. After a moment a bell rang and the doors slid open, revealing a space like a large closet. Van looked into it dubiously.
'Are you sure it's safe?' he asked.
'Almost sure,' said Serena. 'But I'm totally sure I'm not climbing all those stairs in this state. I'm knackered. Just get in, will you? It isn't nearly as scary as a guymelef.' She stepped into the car and Van, after a moment's hesitation, followed her. Serena pushed another button, one of two long vertical rows, the doors slid closed and there was a moment's stillness. Van suddenly got a strange feeling as though his body were trying to sink through the floor.
'What was that!?' He tried to keep the note of alarm out of his voice but was not sure it had worked.
'You just get it when the car starts moving. It's nothing.'
'It's weird!'
'You're having a bad day, aren't you?' she said. She leaned against the car wall and looked at him drowsily.
'You know what?' Van said. 'I am. You're absolutely bang-on-the-nail right. I don't like it here, this building is creepy, the machines are bizarre and I'm worried about tomorrow. So yes, I'm having a bad day.'
''m sorry,' she said sleepily. 'Maybe tomorrow will be better.'
'It already is tomorrow.'
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