| |
TWO CYCLES OF BEING summoned to the interrogator, being stood for varying lengths of time and being dismissed was starting to freak Dun out a little. He knew there was some kind of game being played here, and it was being slowly ratcheted up. He didn’t know what the rules were, but he guessed that was part of the game too. He was now being summoned two or three times in a cycle at random times. It was only a matter of time until they started waking him up to interrogate him. It seemed the logical next step.
Dun also had a new neighbor; brought in last cycle. Barely conscious but Dun could tell it was an Over-folk and a female at that from her scent. As if in answer to Dun thinking about her, she groaned faintly.
“You okay?” Dun said.
No answer. He went to the opposite side of his cell and reached through the bars. He felt the prone form to work out which way up she was. She lay supine, spine against the bars. He changed position to find a pulse: slow, heavy, and her neck was cold, although matted with fur. Was that dried blood? She sighed slowly. Dun smoothed her fur gently and removed his hand. What was this place, and what the hells was going on out there?
The slightly limping guard that brought the food bowls struggled out of the guard’s office at the near end of the corridor. Why they didn’t have some kind of wheeled trolley thing to help the poor chap out was bemusing to Dun. Callousness? Carelessness? The usual procedure seemed to be the guard taking two battered metal plates at a time, sometimes three and flinging them contemptuously across the floors of the cells through a small slot in each grill at floor level. The plate dinked across the floor of his neighbor’s cell and thudded into her.
Dun sighed, ignoring the sound of his own plate arriving and reached over to brush food from the fur of the limp form through the bars. Breakfast/lunch today seemed to be wetter in consistency and smelled of something sweet. Dun still wasn’t hungry. But he knew he needed to keep his strength up somehow. Water got brought intermittently involving a bucket and some kind of scoop, which didn’t properly fit through the bars. There was inevitably a performance involving slurping and dribbling, which Dun thought would have been funnier if it was only him. Hearing some of his other counterparts farther down the corridor trying to sip through bruised and broken lips made him want to cry. The scarcity of the water made him behave otherwise. The bucket run usually followed the food, the only time they could be certain of it. Dun suddenly thought, his new counterpart had had nothing to drink for at least one and a half cycles. Judging by her state, maybe more. He reached his foot behind him to check where his bowl was, and then hooked his foot around it to drag it across the floor toward him. Maybe he could help out here.
He forced the sorry excuse for food down him and gulped hard to prevent reflux. If he could finish it before the guard came back with the bucket, he might be able to keep some for his sleeping oppo. He swallowed down the last mouthful as he heard the limping steps on their way back to the guard post. Sure enough, the door banged open again with an accompanying splosh of water on to the floor; the guard always opened the door bucket first. Since no one was between the two of them and the guard post the guard arrived at Dun’s neighbor first with a clang-clang of the metal spoon on the bars. When there was no response from inside the cell. The guard scooped water up anyway and sloshed it in. There was a wet splat as it hit the floor and the prone form. Why would you do that, thought Dun?
The guard clanged on Dun’s bars.
“Here,” Dun said. “offering up the plate.”
“Suit yourself,” the guard said.
Dun caught most of it, the larger challenge being getting the flattish plate down to the floor without spilling any. He knelt down in the damp pool that had spread between the cells and waited for the guard to go. To move any earlier would certainly invite unwelcome attention. The guard clanged off up the corridor as far as the interrogator’s office, and then as far back as their cells, past them and back into the guard post. Dun waited a hundred clicks or so to make sure he had gone. Then he gently prodded his neighbor through the bars. She groaned.
“Hey, you okay?” Dun said gently.
Another groan.
“Can you move?”
“Uhh.”
“I can help you try to move. You need to drink something. Can you turn your head?”
“Uhh.”
“Here, let me help.”
Slowly and gently, Dun turned her head from facing away from him to a little closer to vertical. Or at least an angle Dun felt comfortable pouring water into her mouth without the risk of choking. He wet his finger and went to wet her lips.
“Here, try this first.”
“Mmm.”
Slowly by wetting his finger and applying it to her mouth, he managed to get half a plateful of water into her.
“More...”
He helped her roll her head over more toward the bars. Then he poured a handful of what water was left from the plate into his hand. From there he dribbled it into her mouth.
“Th...anks.”
“Welcome. You want the rest? There’s not much more.”
“S... ure.”
She panted heavily then lay down again.
“What’s your name?” Dun said.
But she had drifted back off to sleep. At least the noises she was making now were more restful.
“Mazzy.”
“Sorry?” Dun said.
“My name. It’s Mazzy.”
“Oh, hello, I’m Dun.”
“Is there ... any more water?”
“Yeah, I saved you some; the guard came by while you were asleep.”
“Thanks.”
“There’s a bit more than there was last time, I made a dent in the plate. They’re pretty bendy. I hope it doesn’t leak.”
“Thanks,” she said again, amusement in her voice.
“What?” Dun said.
“You’re funny.”
“I saved some food too. If you feel up to it.”
“I guess,” she said.
Dun passed some food through the bars that he’d kept wrapped up in a strip of the blanket.
“How did you wind up here?” he asked as she ate.
“Oh I shouldn’t... can’t...” she whispered. “They’ll hear.”
“Are you Over-folk?”
“What?”
“Over-folk. Sorry, I’m from a long way away, from Bridge-folk; it’s what we call you.”
“Oh.” She laughed. “We call ourselves Duchy.”
“You’re quite like us though.”
“I guess,” she said. “We talk the same.”
“Your face is the same.”
“How do you... oh.”
“I had to feed you water... and check you were okay. Sorry.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t mind.” She stopped talking to chew. “Gods, what do they put in this stuff?”
“I know, today’s is... chewy.”
The door at the guards end of the corridor opened. Batcha, by the smell, and another two guards.
“Here we go again,” Dun said.
“Where?” Mazzy said.
“Oh, interrogation time.” At the noise she made, Dun said, “Oh, don’t worry; it’s more surreal than harmful.”
Then the guards stopped at Mazzy’s cell, unlocked it, and led her out.
“No, no, no, no, nooo!” Dun said. “She’s only just got here.”
He clung to the bars between the cells and tried to grab Mazzy’s hand. He was rewarded for his efforts by a poke with the stick, but this time when it touched him there was a crack and a sudden knifing jolt. He could smell singed fur; this time his own.
“Aahhh!”
“No fraternizing among prisoners!” Batcha said, almost cheerfully.
They dragged Mazzy down the corridor, the door at the far end opened, and then closed. And the screaming began.
***
DUN HAD THE SAND DREAM again only this time it was accompanied by a piercing high-pitched squeak. He woke up panting. When he had calmed down and began to breathe slowly once more he could hear sobbing from the cell next to him.
‘You okay?’ he said.
Mazzy was silent. Dun reached out through the bars to find out if she was okay. As he touched her, she flinched away.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly.
The rest of the corridor was quieter than usual. The sounds of snoring and nightmares were somehow dimmer. Dun sat awake in vigil for a while, but as he heard Mazzy’s breaths lengthen, he too drifted off.
***
WHEN THE KEYS RATTLED in the door of his cell, he expected the guard captain and another trip to the inquisitor. Instead, as he came around he heard a hissed conversation at his cell door.
“Hurry up, the gas won’t work forever.”
“There are a lot of keys.”
“Well, eliminate a few of them, or we’ll be behind them.”
“Shush and let me concentrate. Go check on the guards.”
Two voices, similar to the guards, so Over-folk then. One male, one female. Dun heard steps plodding back to the guard post, unshot steps, so, not a guard. The rattling at his cell door continued.
“Come on,” the male voice said.
The footsteps came back. The female said, “Nah, they’re still dead out.”
“Good,” the male said, rattling keys. “Just check the other end of the corridor is still locked.”
Of she trundled in the other direction. While she was away, her colleague made some progress.
“Gotcha!”
There was a loud, satisfying click.
“Come on out then,” the male voice said, the first time it had addressed him directly.
“Me?” Dun said.
“Yes, you,” the voice said. “Who else?”
“Well, her next door for a start.”
“What are you on about?”
“If you want me,” Dun said. “You need to bring her too.”
“What?”
“You heard. If you want me, bring her too.”
“Why the hell should we try and get everyone killed for that? Do you know her?”
“No,” Dun said, “just met.”
“Then no.”
“If you want me to come with you and not scream the place down for the guards, get her out.”
“Okay my tetchy friend, come out yourself, and we’ll find out what we can do.”
Dun came out and they set about finding another key that might free Mazzy. When they had, Dun helped her to her feet and gave her a shoulder to lean on.
“Who the hells are you? Not the guards for sure,” Dun said.
“I’m Tam, that’s Bel,” the male said.
“Enough time for jolly hellos later,” Bel said. “I think I can hear the guards stirring.”
“Let’s move!” Tam said cheerily.
He led them toward the guard post at as much of a trot as the dragging of a nearly unconscious Mazzy would allow. Tam leaned under Mazzy’s other arm to help, and Bel went in front. She kicked open the guard room door and barged in. The guard captain’s hazy voice came up from the floor.
“Whaaa...? Hey! You! Stop!”
“Oh, no you don’t,” Bel said and there was a crunch as she kicked out.
The guard captain slumped back to the floor with a groan. Bel advanced but had to stop to open the door to get out. A loud booming alarm started to sound from beyond the doorway. From the way it was echoing it seemed like there was an enormous space out there.
“Whoops, time to leave,” Tam said. “Right, outside quickly.”
Tam shuffled Dun and Mazzy through the door into a massive cavernous space with some kind of raised causeway that seemed to trail off into the distance.
“Stop where you are!” came a distant distorted voice from the other end of the causeway.
“Not likely!” Tam said.
“Time for plan B.” Bel seemed to be fiddling with something down by her feet at the edge of the huge space they were in. “I’ll take the girl, you take the Bumpkin.”
