The Deserter Page 9

  Easily? No, it hadn’t been easy. He shivered. He’d rather think of anything but his family. But the old lady had stirred things up now, yes she had. And he could see his mother’s stick-like limbs. ‘Please don’t go,’ was the second-last thing she’d ever said to him. The last had been uttered as he stepped into the crowded corridor amongst the righteous and the nosy. He hadn’t meant to turn round, but he did, and although her lips were moving, the Roar had drowned her out. Perhaps she’d been broadcasting to him at the same time; he didn’t know. He’d blocked all messages from his parents a long time before.

  Stopmouth interrupted his reverie. ‘Why is everywhere so crowded here?’ Hiresh had already explained that the Crisis stopped the Roof growing more space, but the whole idea of a world that could do such a thing had failed to sink in. Hiresh tried to think of another way of putting it. Unfortunately Jagadamba stepped into the breach with an explanation of her own.

  ‘It’s the fault of those selfish Seculars with their unnatural lifespans. How dare they attempt to corrupt the natural order! And now they pay!’

  ‘No,’ said Hiresh. ‘It’s the Religious, with their large families and their—’

  ‘Even carnivores,’ she hissed, ‘know the importance of children!’

  ‘Then maybe, honoured elder, you should live with the carnivores and see if they recognize your importance.’

  She surprised him with a genuine-sounding laugh that sent her into a fit of coughing. She pushed away Stopmouth’s supporting hand, then laughed again.

  ‘Honoured elder! He’s a cool one, savage, and don’t you forget it. And probably mad too.’

  ‘Why mad?’ asked Stopmouth.

  ‘Oh, when I was young, most people of Religious families left their parents for the delights of the Secular world. They had the cruel entertainments to enjoy and all the other sins of passion and ignorance to wallow in … And more than that, they could live these empty lives of theirs as long as they wanted. But their sins have caught up with them and—’

  Hiresh felt his face growing hot. ‘Indrani wouldn’t listen to these ignorant superstitions, Stopmouth, and neither should you. The Crisis is less than a thousand days from its end!’

  ‘Their machines,’ continued Jagadamba, as if the truth hadn’t been uttered, ‘are losing power. Nowadays it is their young people who come to us for salvation. That is why it is so strange to see somebody turning the other way. Poor big man, I wonder what his secret is.’

  Hiresh could feel his blood boiling, and he might have lost his cool entirely if he hadn’t felt the lightest of touches on his arm from the savage. He felt strangely grateful and then stupid, because what could a flesh-eating Deserter such as this know about the importance of civilized restraint? I must never forget that he’s my target, that I am the one hunting him. He logged on to Roofspace for a second to tone down the quality of the translation. Let me hear him with his famous stutter! It might make what was to come, what he had to do, easier.

  ‘But I d-d-don’t understand,’ said the killer. ‘What caused this C-Crisis you all keep talking about?’

  ‘It’s just war,’ said Hiresh, and now at last he and Jagadamba had something in common.

  ‘Our sacred duty,’ she added. ‘To rid the universe of demons.’

  ‘To defend ourselves and Old Earth against aliens,’ Hiresh corrected. ‘What your people call beasts.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t eat f-flesh,’ said Stopmouth.

  ‘Of course not,’ spluttered Jagadamba.

  ‘But we do hunt them,’ said Hiresh. ‘Or rather our machines, our warships, hunt them out across the vast emptiness that lies between worlds. Sometimes one of our machines breaks through and gets the whole lot of them.’

  Stopmouth’s eyes widened behind his veil and he said, utterly appalled, ‘A whole w-world dies and every t-tribe upon it?’

  ‘It’s them or us,’ said Jagadamba. ‘And remember, they are carnivores! You’ve fought enough of them to know that now, right, savage?’

  ‘But you don’t even eat them,’ said Stopmouth.

  Jagadamba shook her head. ‘Are you deaf? They are trying to kill us too!’ The old woman started coughing again and they had to stop while she got some phlegm up. Her spit landed between the splayed legs of a Dreamer whose own drool spattered the front of a filthy shirt.

  ‘They did get through our defences,’ said Hiresh. ‘At least that’s what people say. Just once. It happened the year before I was born. A small weapon that didn’t seem to do much real damage. But it must have been some kind of poison or disease, because ever since then … Well, it’s like a rot. I told you about the nanos, right? The tiny machines that do all the work?’

  ‘People should work, not machines,’ said Jagadamba.

  Hiresh wouldn’t let her put him off. ‘They make our Medicine; they build; they grow all our food. And ever since the attack, they’ve been dying off. First in one area and then another. That’s how we lost the Upstairs. Plus a new floor the Roof had been growing for us, because we were already getting too full.’

  The Commission had ordered everyone to abandon the upper levels. Crowding and shortages and rebellion had followed. Hiresh remembered it vividly. By that stage, he’d already run away from home to try and join the Elite.

  ‘But we’re nearly safe again,’ he said. ‘I heard the Commission have already started implementing the Cure. The first improvements are imminent, they said.’ He turned to Jagadamba. ‘We’ll see how long your new Religious stay converted then! We’ll all have as much Medicine as we want! We’ll live for ever!’

  ‘Not if there’s a change of government first,’ she hissed.

  ‘That’s treason.’

  ‘Yes, big man. Treason. That’s what we’re doing now by bringing this savage to his witch, in case you didn’t realize. Welcome to the Rebellion. Once we bring the Commission down, we’ll be free from persecution again! Free to live as we please!’

  Believe what you want, old woman, thought Hiresh. He’d have the last laugh. He glanced at Stopmouth. When the savage nodded back at him, he felt a moment’s nausea, self-disgust. It’s him or Tarini. No contest. No contest.

  * * *

  Stopmouth knew he did not belong. He was able to adjust to the crowds, to the noise and even the smells for a few hundred paces at a time. But then something would change – the shape of a wall, the dress of the inhabitants, something small – and his knees would weaken enough to make him stumble. Even stranger was the way his skin seemed to be turning darker with every passing moment.

  What would Indrani think of that when she saw it? Would she recognize him? Maybe she’d want him more if he looked like a civilized man. He was afraid to find out, but desperate to see her too and take her out of this awful place of too much noise, too many people, and food that would never fill you up.

  And then they would come to one of those parks and he’d look up to the ceiling. He couldn’t help it: every time, he cried out with delight at what Jagadamba had called clouds. Even more beautiful was the pale blue background. It matched exactly the shade of his mother’s eyes. The sight of it drained tension from his whole body. It looked so lovely, so right. He felt the pricking of tears and didn’t know why.

  ‘The skies of Old Earth,’ said Hiresh, one time.

  ‘Yes,’ said Stopmouth, although he didn’t really understand. ‘Thank you, thank you.’ He did look down long enough to take in the state of his companions. Jagadamba’s aged limbs could only manage a hobble, and yet she never seemed to tire, her pace slow but relentless. Hiresh, however, was panting now, his veil clinging to his dripping face.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Stopmouth asked, worried his new companion might collapse. He liked the boy more and more. In many ways he looked like a little child, but he was brave – Stopmouth had seen enough to know that much. Nobody else had been willing to hold out a hand to him, to take him home. And here was the boy now, his thin frame trembling with exhaustion, never uttering a single word o
f complaint.

  ‘Oh, I’m … fine, thank … thank you, Chief,’ came the reply. Stopmouth knew better and saw that there was only one thing to do about it.

  ‘I’m worn out,’ he said to Jagadamba.

  ‘You are?’ Her voice was suspicious. They were walking between the husks of dried-out trees where children perched dangerously on branches above their heads.

  ‘Let’s eat something,’ he said. ‘Have we any food?’

  Jagadamba nodded and eased herself down into the mud beside a shattered stump. Hiresh made a show of looking around first, but Stopmouth could see the shake in his limbs through the heavy robes. He had run up those hills earlier, when Jagadamba had been carried. The boy was the last to remove his sodden veil.

  The old woman pulled out a cloth-wrapped package.

  ‘Ha! Look at your face, savage!’

  ‘But it’s rice!’ The globby, tasteless little grains of nothing that he’d eaten in the white room. Sometimes there were lumps of other stuff they called protein. Equally tasteless, it seemed to him.

  ‘Were you expecting flesh? We have millions of hectares of farmland, savage, that only our machines ever see. We don’t kill others for our food.’

  Stopmouth shook his head. Flesh. The word made his mouth water and created images of feasting and good times that were so vivid, he thought they must be some sending of the Roof. He was beginning to think that no matter how much he ate up here he’d never be full again. All the same, he accepted the cold rice as gracefully as he could.

  ‘How much further?’ he asked.

  ‘You don’t need to know, savage. Just do as you’re told.’

  ‘Indrani is my wife. Among the Tribe, that is a sacred bond. It—’

  ‘What do you know about sacred?’ she gurgled. ‘Your lives are nothing but a never-ending cycle of passion and ignorance.’

  A few grains of rice had spilled into the mud. Stopmouth carefully picked them up and popped them into his mouth. Then he stood up.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To find my wife. If you won’t help me, somebody else here will.’

  ‘You’re mad. Oh, sit down, you fool. I don’t know where she is either, all right? Only that my friends, my allies have her. We meet my contact just after dark and we’ll find out the rest. It’s a few hours. No more. And … and I’m sorry. Marriage is indeed a sacred bond. Even yours.’

  ‘Were you ever married, Jagadamba?’ he asked.

  She sighed and lifted her veil to display the single tooth that stayed outside whenever she closed her mouth. ‘Has this face ever been loved?’ She didn’t wait for a reply. ‘I’m not like your little traitor friend.’ She nodded at Hiresh. ‘I was born to an age of wonders that the young here can only imagine. There were fewer Dreamers then among the Seculars, oh yes! I could have put my hand out, savage’ – she held a claw up to show him, palm cupped, shaking with weakness – ‘I could have put it out to any wall in the entire Roof and said, “I’m too weak to do the right thing. Give me a Cosmetic, make me beautiful.” But I knew I’d earned all the suffering and the name-calling in a previous life and I didn’t crack. Never! I was strong then!’

  Other people looked over as she raised her voice. She turned her head to stare them down before she came back to Stopmouth. She sighed again and tapped the filthy ground beside her. For just a moment she looked desperately sad. Then the veil dropped once more. ‘Sit down, young savage. Sit down. We all need our rest.’

  He sat between the two of them. Hiresh was still rubbing his arm, but otherwise said nothing. He looked everywhere except at Jagadamba.

  Stopmouth waved a hand in front of his face. Hiresh jumped.

  ‘Were you Dreaming?’ asked the hunter. He pointed into the crowd. ‘Like some of them are?’

  Hiresh shook his head.

  ‘Well, what could make them do it? What do they see?’

  The boy shrugged. ‘It depends on their taste. Stories, history, women … My uncle – I haven’t seen him in a while, but he used to get the Roof to replay his old childhood memories again and again.’

  ‘Most of them,’ said Jagadamba, ‘are probably savouring the murderous pursuits of your fellow cannibals on the surface. Nothing thrills like real death.’

  Stopmouth felt a shiver go through his body. ‘They – they are the ones who watch my tribe?’ For some reason he’d imagined it was only the people sitting in Globes who could see the surface. He should have known better, of course. No more than two or three would ever fit inside one of those aircraft, and large numbers here had recognized him when he’d stepped out of the white room.

  Jagadamba stopped. For the first time she seemed hesitant when she spoke. ‘You have family, of course, don’t you? I never enquired. But yes, you must have. Even such as you.’

  ‘I … I abandoned them to come here. They’re not very good hunters. I mean, they try, they really try …’

  ‘Why don’t you watch them?’ said Hiresh. ‘Just ask the Roof. Imagine what you want to see and it will show you.’

  And Stopmouth did want to see it. He’d been worried sick about them all. Rockface, the children. There were some in his old tribe he worried about too, but he couldn’t bear to see the Ways. Never again. His loyalty lay elsewhere now.

  He closed his eyes. ‘Show me …’ he muttered, not really sure who he was talking to.

  Suddenly he wasn’t in the park any more. He stumbled to his knees, but all he saw was a view of the world such as he’d seen once from the top of a ridge line. Only higher this time. He was watching from a Globe; he had to be.

  Way below, the browns and greys of the land resolved themselves into shapes as his mind focused on them. He saw streets there, and crumbling houses. Up high, it was easy to spot the shadows of other buildings, now gone, swallowed by moss or forest. Wetlanes glittered in the light of the Roof, and rivers shimmered down hillsides and ran all the way to a huge shiny plain that rippled as he watched. Tiny black specks covered most of the area, but when he wondered what they were, the view dropped down towards ground level.

  He recoiled in horror at what he saw: row upon row of Digger-planted bodies. He saw creatures of fur, of scales and skin, of all kinds. Heads lolling, mouths drooling, each expressing an agony beyond imagining, their stench and their moans rising up through the warm air for five days’ walk in every direction.

  ‘Take me away,’ he cried. ‘I want to see my tribe. Just the tribe.’

  When he blinked, the landscape beneath him had changed. He heard the hiss of the river, saw it rushing down an ancient pathway between two ridges of hills, with buildings scattered the length of its banks.

  The U-shaped complex known as ‘Headquarters’ separated itself from the surrounding houses and grew in his sight until he could see the unused cooking fires and the miserable people lying nearby. He could hear adults scolding their hungry children into silence.

  Inside – he hadn’t known he could look inside – he heard Vishwakarma’s eternally excited voice calling, ‘Huntleader! Can we go? Come on! The boys – oh, and Sodasi and Kamala, of course. I meant the hunting party. We’re ready to go. Just waiting for you.’

  A smile pulled Stopmouth’s cheeks apart. He wondered who Vishwakarma was speaking to, so the Roof took him through another wall into a room so small, Stopmouth hadn’t known it existed.

  Rockface knelt here. At first this pleased the watcher, but then he saw the look of agony in his friend’s eyes, the body bent double at the waist.

  It took Stopmouth a moment to figure out that the big man was actually trying to stand up. And failing. Stopmouth gasped when he saw tears, and though one scarred hand tried to smother Rockface’s sobs, the Roof obligingly raised the volume.

  ‘Huntleader? Huntleader?’

  With a gigantic effort and one last secret whimper, Rockface straightened his back and wiped the tears and sweat from his face.

  ‘A man needs peace to loosen his bowels, hey?’ He was still shaking and thinking nobo
dy could see this private weakness. He leaned against one of the walls, gulping in the air as if it was running out.

  ‘We’ll hunt back towards the Slimer,’ he said when he’d caught his breath. ‘The Fourleggers have spotted another Digger and might have seen a few of their tunnels. I won’t risk you lot in that direction, hey?’ The exhausted face looked up, and his eyes, by some miracle, seemed to stare directly into Stopmouth’s own.

  ‘Roof! Get me away from here! Stop it! Stop it!’

  He found himself back in the ‘park’, lying on his side, shivering, with Jagadamba and Hiresh looking on in concern.

  ‘You get used to it,’ said Hiresh.

  ‘How can I be here?’ was all the hunter could say.

  ‘Yes, it’s starting to get exciting again,’ said the boy. ‘I think we’re building up to another climax like that brilliant battle you had with the Skeletons. You remember that one?’

  The hunter shuddered. All he could think of was Rockface’s humiliation. How many others must have seen it? More than all the insects that swarmed the air, more than the tracklights that lit the Roof by night. The same numbers might have watched Stopmouth going to the toilet; they’d have seen him and Indrani making love. He was trying to save his people for this? For the empty sacks around him to laugh and point at them in their most intimate moments?

  He grabbed Hiresh’s wrist. ‘How long have they got?’ he asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Before the Diggers make it over the hills and surround them? How long?’

  Hiresh’s eyes softened and he nodded. ‘I’m sorry. Of course. Let me log on.’ A moment later he had the answer. ‘I’m sorry, Chief,’ he said. ‘Six days, maybe seven. There’s no way to stop it. No way at all.’

  ‘Indrani will stop it.’ Stopmouth stood up, feeling light-headed, his vision blurring. ‘We have to find her. We have to find her right now.’

  He didn’t pay much attention to where they went after that. Jagadamba wasn’t allowed to know where Indrani was in case she got caught, but she had a contact, somebody who would only meet her face to face. They were going there now. That was all that mattered. A day away at the most. Oh ancestors!