Chapter 2! The beginning of Great Britain and Zeno's preferred form. Now edited with love and caringness. Thanks to the Thirteenth Councilor for the nice reviews!
Small, but a stocky build; meant to endure, to last. Greenish-blue eyes like beach glass. A sailor's shade of skin. Blonde hair that looked like it had been hacked at with a Swiss Army knife. A coat some three sizes too big. He claimed he'd seen this wastrel in the streets of Italy just before the Renaissance, but I had my doubts.
He ran up the side of the hill, fake boots kicking up small puffs of dust. "Lovely, huh? Urbanization at its best. This'll be a package for us, Bartimaeus."
I was following more slowly behind him, gaze flickering skeptically over London. "It's no joke, Zeno," I said darkly. "That's the newest war-mongerer growing down there."
"Exactly! That's the best part!"
"You sick fiend."
"You coward," He returned cheerfully. "It'll be fun, don't you think? Cheating salesmen; greedy nobility; a corrupt government! Magicians, magicians, magicians! Little gangs of hard-ass kids pick-pocketing their way through the streets; a riotous middle class! We won't even have to change 'guises, just clothes! Somehow I don't think a transvestite is going to work with these people, you know," he added with a doubtful glance over his shoulder at me, still faithful to Ptolemy's form.
"It's a wrapped skirt, Zeno. As in Egyptian. As in perfectly hetero."
"Don't be sour."
I heard the pleading note in his voice and heeded it. Zeno's brave farces were a pain, but according to some my pessimism was just as annoying (though more honest by far).
He sighed loudly. "It's there whether we like it or not, so we might as well face facts and take stock. It's only half-built, after all." He spread his arms wide like a bird, coat sleeves flapping over the city. "Great Britain! Hail!"
"Wish they'd take the 'great' off."
"But it will be great. I heard about the army they're packing---and didn't you see it? Since you were in Prague…with Queezle…" He added nonchalantly.
"Somebody sounds jealous."
"Of what? I hate Prague," He said breezily. His arms were still spread, and I wondered if the wind would catch in his coat and carry off the hill.
"You missed the fight, though," I said, deciding to ignore that he'd ignored my stab about Queezle. I could always nag him about it later. "Brilliant stuff. Blood and screaming and mass terror…just your cup, isn't it? You would have loved it," I added with a sick grin.
He tsked. "I bet I would have. Oh, Bart, we should have switched masters. Things were so peaceful in Finland; I thought I was going to die. Too quiet. And the master was so sickly sweet… But," He added quickly, "You got to spend a few last moments with your city. That pleased you, didn't it?"
I shrugged. "I guess."
His arms dropped. "You're still depressed, then?"
"Who's depressed? Not me."
"Yes, you are. Queezle told me that you were impressively downcast about the whole thing. And then she said it was your own fault for helping build such a shoddy little capital."
"It sounds like Queezle and I are going to be having an interesting conversation when I see her next."
"Hope I'm there. You two are a real show."
"Huh."
An awkward silence fell. I began taking a closer look at the half-constructed city.
"So, see anything?"
Zeno pulled a face. "Any what?"
"Any…you know!"
He made a big show of biting his lip. "I do?" He finally asked.
"The reason why we were sent here? Our mission?" I emphasized, hoping to jog his memory a little.
"Oh? Oh! Oh, yes, that," He said quickly, glancing at the city. "Um…not particularly."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
"So…how about you?"
My eyebrows almost flew off my face. "What about me?"
"Do you see any…?"
"Any what?"
"You know."
"W-well of course I do! Don't you?"
"Of course! Don't you?"
"Of course I do!"
Another silence fell. Zeno began scuffing his boots in the grass; I started counting how many intersections London had managed to amass so far.
To anyone else, the city looked complete: it already had a strong downtown area with fancy-schmancy office buildings and parks and halls and little book-and-coffee establishments. And then towards the left you could see a nice, large suburbian octagon-rectangular thing right next to a few straight rows of large, smoky factories. But the downtown area didn't have a barrier yet, no walls or surrounding highways or anything, and it was the same for the suburbs.
London looked complete, but it was just getting ready to grow. The capitals of nations always do after a prosperous war. And with Gladstone heading the whole thing…
I turned to Zeno. He turned back, his shoulders hunched in an apologetic way.
"You don't really know what we're here for, do you?" I asked flatly.
He shook his head. "I got nothing. Do you?"
"Nadda."
We laughed nervously together.
"D-Do you think she'll mind?" Zeno asked in what I'm sure he thought was an offhand way. "The new master, I mean."
An ugly, sardonic grin was claiming ownership of my face. "If she asks anything, I'm putting it all on you."
"Oh, thanks." He puffed out his cheeks, and took another look at the growing city below. "What a way to start with Great Britain. This is going to be a package."
