Mantivore Dreams, page 11
part #1 of The Arcadian Chronicles Series
CHAPTER TEN
Now the ditch was no longer an option, we trudged along the road, deciding that it was less risky blending in with the increasing number of other travellers. It was soon hotter than it’d ever been down in the ditch, away from the deep shade afforded by the steep sides, so around eleven we stopped before we got sun-slagged. We chose to shelter under one of the acacia trees planted in an avenue along the edge of the road in memory of some long-dead Uppie, whose name was emblazoned on a metal plinth. We checked the tree for wildlife, flopped down in the shade, dribbled some water down our parched throats and rested.
Heat rolled along the deserted road in waves, dancing with the distance, where I could make out other groups sheltering under neighbouring trees. The cooked air whined, as we lay clamped to the ground under its weight. Too hot to move, too hot to sleep. So we sweated and sipped water. Talking.
“What music jer like?” I asked.
“Mostly ancient religious works.” Seth yawned, before adding, “I was amazed to hear the Organ Toccata in D Minor again.”
I rolled over and goggled at him. “You know it?”
“Oh, yeah. It was one of Father’s favourites.”
“You had more of those kinds of tunes?”
“Yeah.” He casually picked at a ripped fingernail.
So where are they now? I almost asked, before recalling that when the Priest Family were DeNamed, they would have been turned out onto the streets with only a handful of minutes to scoop up the basic necessities.
“What about you?”
Remembering all the village concerts I’d heard didn’t take long. “Onice singing ‘Don’t You Pig All The Figs’. Other than Bach’s organ tune, that is.”
Seth ripped the nail off and flicked it away. “His name’s pronounced Bark.”
“But it’s spelt B–a–”
“I know.”
You end up doing all the worst jobs in the village – and you were only fourteen when your Pa died. “You sure?”
Lying back on his blanket, he covered his eyes with his arm. “Yeah. In Earthen times they didn’t spell phonetically, like we do now.”
“Why not?”
His hand flicked lazily. “There were a variety of different languages then. Merican in those days was a mixture of some of them.”
Certainties I’d grown up with were shifting beneath my feet. Osmar had told me repeatedly that knowledge was power. If you knew Facs other people didn’t, that made you stronger. Yet Seth, who knew things I’d never heard anyone else try to guess about, was less respected in Cnicus than a fertile nanny goat.
“So when did it all change?”
“Third generation of founders. By then they’d figured no one was going to arrive from Earth and rescue them. So, in the year 174 the first Council was formed, with the Brarian Overlord as Chairman, to rearrange the rules so they could properly settle Arcadia and rule it.”
Did Osmar know all this? Probably. But he’d found tapping tiring. Whereas Seth just opened his mouth and these Facs poured out. I was suddenly so angry I sat up and thumped the ground with my fist. “Jer know how hard it is to find out these things? And you – you know so much! You could’ve helped other people learn this stuff.”
Seth took his arm away from his face and rolled over to look into my eyes. “And how would that have been possible, Kyrillia?”
“You could’ve passed these Facs onto Brian Carver when he was made the village teacher, for starters.”
“Our Family were DeNamed, remember. No one wanted to employ me. Not unless it involved me sweat-slogging in the noonblast, preferably up to my neck in shit.”
“But it’s such a wicked waste! Jer know how often Onice and I wondered about what happened? I used to Facs-mine the Node for Arcadia’s history. But all those Facs are deleted.” And then I’d stumbled across a Node-strand that mentioned oldentime music. My anger twined into sick regret for everything I’d lost. I hugged my knees to my chest. “Took me over a year to mine out the Music Site. Should’ve left it alone. Everything would’ve been alright if I hadn’t found Bach – I mean, Bark.”
“So why do you think the Priests were targeted?”
“Because of the uprising in the cities, of course. Everyone knows that.”
“And why would Priests want to take over The Council and rule, instead?” Seth’s voice, for all its softness, had an edge to it. Like he was really saying – Use your brain!
I shrugged, feeling stupid. “Don’t know.”
“Met any priests, have you?”
“None – cept you.” And you’re not a proper Priest.
“Well I certainly don’t count. I’ll never be ordained, for starters.”
I flinched at how close he’d come to my nasty little thought.
Seth continued, “I knew a number of Father’s friends. Quiet souls, who enjoyed facs-learning, reading and writing. Not the types to get stoked on political power. And with their knowledge of Arcadian history, they’d be only too aware of the risks entailed in such an attempt.”
I recalled one of Uncle’s tappings. The Council picked on Priests because their Family knew too much.
Seth was telling me that to keep safe, I should stay a know-nothing. But a twist of anger flamed my soul and I longingly recalled my wide-ranging conversation with Felina. If she’d known about this stuff, she wouldn’t be shutting me out, I was sure. I sighed and flopped back down onto my blanket.
“Kyrillia? I didn’t mean to rile you.”
Seth sounded so… beaten. I stared up at the sky through the leaf canopy, squinting against the vicious glare of the sun. “It’s not you. It’s like – like Bark, or whatever his name is. He wrote his wonderful organ tune. And hundreds of years later, our ancestors still loved it enough to carry it with them when they left Earth and came here. Until,” my angry voice cut through the whine of superheated air, “the Council decided to lock his music away from us. Along with our history and – and stories, and other things.”
Seth sat up, no longer sounding cowed, “Like God. They want to take God away from us, as well.”
Not that God is any great loss. “Why?”
“Because God lets us work out Right and Wrong for ourselves. And if God is all about giving us free will, it follows that anyone else ruling over us should also give us similar freedom.”
I rolled onto my side. “So you’re saying they hosed God away because He’s too important. But the Bullits say He doesn’t matter to modern-day Arcadians.”
“Yeah, those Bullits.” Seth’s voice was edged again. “Ever wondered how much it costs to send a Bullit out from Reseda to cover the whole province?”
“Too much, if the cost of Bulliting direct to Reseda is any guide.” Beneth Healer had Family and friends in Reseda and was always moaning at Mai because she wouldn’t let Beneth uplink on the Node-nexus to talk to them. So Beneth had to send Bullits. It used to rile Uncle, because he reckoned it proved Mai didn’t know how to use the Node-nexus properly.
Seth’s near-whisper broke into my recollection. “So if God really doesn’t matter anymore, how come they spend hundreds of swaps telling us that? If He truly is insignificant, it would be easier – and cheaper – just to ignore Him and let His teachings die.”
“Shame Osmar never got to talk to you. He liked clever bods who knew things.”
Seth sighed and flopped back down onto his blanket. “I’d give a whole lot not to know these things. I’d have managed to carve out a decent life in Cnicus if I hadn’t been tormented with these thoughts, and others. With my… episodes.”
Another belief blasted into the sun. Osmar always tapped that if I used my brain, it would keep me ahead of the pack. Only feeb-wits and knuckle-grazers ended up in ditches, or slave-slogging in fields, according to him. But here was Seth telling me it was his cleverness that had driven him to scream abuse at Demri until he got flung into the Security Suite, often bloody and bruised…
I looked at him, lying on the ground, his eyes shut. He wasn’t built like Leodan Washer, who was all broad shoulders, narrow waist and muscled arms, with blonde hair and blue eyes that had most of the girls – except Onice – fluttering over him.
But Seth had muscles, even if they weren’t bulging for all to see. His slave-slogging work had seen to that. His skin was tanned, and he had several small scars across his forehead. Nothing disfiguring, but it gave him a look at odds with his beautiful voice and Uppie accent. His eyes were his best feature. A warmer, lighter colour than Mai’s dark eyes, they danced when he gave one of those micro-smiles of his, which transformed his face and made him look a whole lot nicer than Leodan.
Even if he doesn’t want to share a room with me. I sipped some water, closed my eyes and tried to ignore Vrox’s sniggers.
We set off again just before three, figuring to complete the journey before nightfall. Most of the folks sheltering under the adjacent trees had already moved on. Around four, we were starting to meet more people, as several other roads intersected the main route to Pistacia. Most folk were returning home with empty wagons or minicarts. Some acknowledged our greetings; many looked straight through us.
It was during a long lull when the road was pretty much deserted that the minicart pulled up alongside in a cloud of dust and a man jumped out before it had fully stopped. I didn’t need Vrox’s warning howl to tell me we were in trouble.
“Many sorries for disturbing you folks. Can you tell me if we’re on the right road to Pistacia?” He tried for a smile, but it came out as a leer as he looked me up and down.
“Yep. Just follow the road,” Seth answered, moving close to me.
The man walked up to Seth. I just had time to wonder at the hammer hanging so casually in his hand, but before I could even cry out a warning, before Seth could throw up a hand to defend himself, he had moved quick as light to strike Seth over the head with it. I saw the blow glance off Seth’s sunscreen, but it was still powerful enough to fell him like a sack of grain.
Mothership above – Seth! No! They’ve killed you!
Vrox snarls, his silver eyes slitted, Attackdrool smoking across his muzzle…
Adrenaline crackled up my spine. My mind felt coldly clear, pin-sharp as I dropped to my knees and snatched for Seth’s pulse. It was still strong – thank the Universe!
The driver grabbed my arm, pulling me to my feet and towards the minicart. “C’mon, Pretty. Let’s have some fun.”
My mind seemed to be running in double-time. I wanted to tumble to my knees and beg him to let me go. Please, no… But I also realised these turds weren’t going to respond to any kind of appeal, other than get pumped on it. When I stopped panicking, I also noticed that his sunscreen was newtech and flimsy, and his thin-soled shoes were shiny. Not solid boots built for dealing with the Arids.
Are these thugs sent by Brarian Major Adurn to mop up anyone who looks like me? Or just chancers looking for easy pickings along the road? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t about to ask. If these were towners, they probably wouldn’t know daggergrass till it sliced lumps from their shins. The beginnings of a mad, desperate plan unfolded in my head.
Vrox growls encouragement – proud of my courage and promising to help in any way he can…
I rolled my eyes, trying to copy how Skyla Slurry talked and acted when she’d smoked too much hope-rope. “In that? It’s gonna be hotter than Satan’s crotch. Why don’t we load him,” I jerked my head in Seth’s direction, “in the back of this thing? Then we can go and have some outdoor fun. A threesome – whatjer say?” I gave a grin and raised my eyebrows, feeling horribly unconvincing.
But the driver sniggered. “Oo… you’re keen.”
I took a breath and gestured towards Seth. “Get him in the back of the minicart. Then we can go an’ play in the fresh air, yeah?”
The driver picked up Seth and slung him onto the back seat. His casual carelessness had me inwardly wincing.
Meantime his companion joined him. “Hey Grote – why don’t we stay in the mini? There’s allsorts roamin’ round out there.”
I shrugged. “Suit yerselves. But goin’ for a full threesome in something that cramped – it ain’t gonna work.”
Grote grabbed my arm. “I’m up fer it. Don’t get a chance like this every day. You can sit in the mini, sweatin’ and watchin’ the dust settle on Sleeping Beauty.” He rolled his eyes towards the slumped figure of Seth.
Let him be alright…
I pulled Grote towards the edge of the vegetation, while the other one stomped along behind us, muttering under his breath.
“Jer know when the colonists first pitched up on this here dirtball, they was so stoked to be outside that they all useta do it inna Arids?” I gestured to the bushes and sun-brittled grass clumped around us. Anything here I can use, Vrox?
The mantivore huffs, eyes slitted as he focuses…
“Called it moonin’ the sun, they did,” I blathered, stepping carefully around a clump of daggergrass and pulling Grote around with me.
“Yeah, right,” snapped the grumpy one. “So why yer so free with it? And bustin’ a gut to get us out here inna open? That’s what I’m askin’ myself. A trap, mebbe?”
Grote threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Look ‘round this here place – where’s she gonna get help? Earth onna stick, Jayden, but yer witless!” His yell of merriment abruptly stopped, his grip on my arm tightening till I was afraid he’d break the bone. “Though I’m askin’ meself why yer actin’ like a four-swap whore onna Saturday night. Don’t go thinkin’ me an’ Jayden gonna pay.”
Vrox wrinkles his muzzle, dribbling Threatdrool and snarling…
Never mind about Respect, Vrox – find us a passing nemmet, or whatever!
“Hey, eezee on the arm, fella.” I pouted. “Didn’t think in terms of swaps, as it happens. But after yer busted poor ol’ Demri over the head I figured if I was… friendly, then mebbe yer cut us some slack, yeah?” We’d been walking through an acacia thicket, threading between the bushes, and as I pushed a branch aside and managed to pull a thorn free and jab my hand with it.
I grinned up at Grote. “An’ Demri – he’s the careful sort. Never wanted to go moonin’ anywhere, as it happens. So I figured a coupla lads like yerselves might be up for it.”
Vrox huffs in excitement and sends an image at me…
We entered a small clearing, shaded by a huge baobab, thickly strewn with leaf litter. Grote and Jayden didn’t so much as look at the ground, never mind check it out.
So I was right. They are towners.
Grote let me go as he mopped his sweating face and leant back against the trunk of the tree, barely giving it a glance. “It’s hotter’n a sunspot’s bollocks!”
My sudden panic evaporated. I can do this…
Smiling up at Grote, I started unbuttoning my tunic. And then stopped, pretending to notice my bleeding hand for the first time. “Oops. Hold up a sec. I’m bleeding. Need to sort it.” I quickly sucked at the small wound, and then spat out the blood on the ground, down at the roots of the tree. Right next to Grote.
Jayden made a grab for me. “I’ll give you more than a scratch.”
“Hey!” I waved my hand around. “It’s bleeding. We’re inna Arids and blood out here… Not good. For any of us.” I sucked once more at the welling blood and spat it on the ground, giddy with a mixture of fear and adrenaline. As Jayden lunged for me again, I hopped onto the knotted roots radiating out from the gnarled trunk, my feet skittering across the thick tangle anchoring the massive tree to the ground in a vore-blur of agility. “Come an’ get me!” I sang out, giggling. Partly in crazed terror, partly in pretend fun.
Grote laughed.
But Jayden let loose a string of curse words as he turned on his partner. “She’s playin’ us. This here’s the Arids. We got no call roamin’ round here.”
Grote suddenly wasn’t laughing. “And I’m sick of yer whinin’, yer streak of yella water. What jer reckon? A nemmet’s gonna jump out an’ chew off yer family jewels? Girl wants a bit of fun, is all. An’ no carvin’ this one up.”
“If Fuller knew you’d left the mini onna side of the road unguarded and gone runnin’ through the Arids with some trouser-tugger, he’d serve you your brains onna plate!”
Grote went still.
I pressed myself against the far side of the huge tree and held my breath at the look on his face, relieved it wasn’t aimed at me.
“Fuller isn’t gonna know ʼbout this here caper. Is he?” Grote’s voice was thick with threat notes.
“No. Course not. What jer take me for?” Jayden said quickly, shifting onto the balls of his feet. Poised.
I waited. The threat of violence pounded in time to the thrum of roasting air. My own blood pulsed, hard and fast. Sweat trickled down my back, despite my sunscreen.
Grote let out a breath. “Where’d our little fun package get to then?”
“Lemme find her,” Jayden snarled, still twitchily wound
I revealed myself from around the side of the trunk, still smiling. “Here I am.”
Grote just grinned and folded his arms, while Jayden swore loudly and started scrambling over the tree roots towards me.
But he lost his footing in his smart, slick-soled shoes and slipped, falling heavily in amongst the snarled roots. Another fusillade of filthy words poured from his mouth as he scrambled to his feet, took a step and collapsed once more, clutching his leg and rolling in agony. “I think I broke my ankle,” he groaned. “Here, Grote. Gemme back to the mini. I’ve had it with this hellhole.”
Grote’s face was smooth as he stared down at Jayden’s sweating, bleached face. I didn’t need Vrox’s huffed warning to step back behind the trunk. I could clearly hear his voice, though.
“Yeah. I’ve had it, too. If yer’d just gone with this piece of nonsense from the girlie, then it wouldn’t come to this. But no… not you. You had to haul Fuller into the middle of our fun. And now he’s never gonna know nothin’.”
I shivered at the flat finality in his voice.
“Grote? What jer doing? I’m yer partner, I—ˮ
A fizzing hiss followed by a couple of dull thuds silenced Jayden’s gabble. Permanently, I guessed.
