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FLUPPIT WAS IMPRESSED. In not much more than the length of her cup of racta, she’d listened to all she knew about OneLove, his personality/ies, needs, the politics of the former dictatorship, now, loosely led committee, and all the ins and outs of everyone. It took a while. Dun took Padg, Nev, Kaj for something harder than racta at a new little establishment that had opened to tend to the needs of the folk working in the rooms and tunnels of the former Bureau. Amber, reluctant to leave, was shooed off eventually by Sari, insisting that Fluppit could show her round and that she would be all the guide and assistant she’d need. Fluppit had never felt so important in her entire life.
“Right, let’s get on, shall we?” Sari swilled the dregs of her racta then scooped a cup of fluid from the vat.
“You’re not going to— are you?” Fluppit was torn between awe and horror.
“Shh!” said Sari.
She sniffed loudly, swilled the fluid round the bamboo cup. She dipped her fingers in. Fluppit heard the rustle of pad against pad. “What are you doing?”
“Checking texture,” said Sari. “It should feel organic, you know? Slippery or sticky or- It’s got a type of feel.”
“And this?”
“Wait. Not finished.” There was a loud slurp and any number of other mouth noises. Fluppit fought a strong urge to gag. “Why?” Sari placed a hand on her arm for silence. She rustled in a shoulder-bag and produced something, muttered, put it back and then rummaged for something else.
“Ah,” said Sari. Fluppit heard her scoop another cup of fluid from the vat. Perhaps she’d gotten a taste for it. But wouldn’t that be like drinking...a person? Fluppit shuddered. Sari was crunching something, and stirred it into the cup with a stick. She sniffed again and poured the cup back into the vat. She gave the area she’d poured another quick flourish with the stirring stick and made a satisfied hum. “Okay, let’s go.”
“But—” Fluppit began, but Sari’s comforting hand on her arm stopped her. This time the hand took a gentle grip and led Fluppit out of the room.
Only when the door closed completely behind them, did Sari speak again, “I don’t like speaking in front of the patient when it’s something serious.”
“Oh,” said Fluppit, “is it?”
“Very. Let’s go and catch up with the others, so I don’t have to explain it all twice.”
****
CASCADE WAS THE LITTLE cantina that had opened at the base of the wall housing the Bureau. Someone, Fluppit assumed the Jasmine collective, had installed a fascinating water feature made of different-sized cans that made a watery choir of drips and sploshes. Fluppit loved it here, they made lovely pond salads with adaptations for flavour from the foods the factory turned out. Rather than chew through a food cube, they’d sprinkle them delicately on top of leaves with a drizzle of something contrasting in flavour on top. And every span it was different. They found the grown-ups were huddled round a table right up against the wall and their conversation went from a low murmur to silence when they arrived.
“Not talking about us I hope?” said Sari breezily.
“We can’t be too careful,” said Padg.
“Then dining outside to discuss was hardly wise was it?” Amber had joined them. Berating Padg had become a hobby since their paring.
“We had to talk somewhere, I don’t think we’ve got long,” said Dun.
Amber huffed.
“Besides, I was starving,” said Nev.
Everyone groaned.
“You’re always starving,” said Kaj.
Fluppit smiled and felt her way down the little menu cards that Cascade placed on the tables. Sometimes there was a choice, sometimes just a description of what was on offer. She liked to check either way. Whoever etched the menus had beautiful handwriting. Sometimes there were little doodles of the plants and cubes scribed on the menus too.
Dun was sat near them on the round table, “How long have we got?”
Fluppit gave Sari the menu, she placed a hand on top of hers, but turned to address Dun, “Not long. I’ve made him comfortable, but the poison is pervasive. The organic matrix of the vat is breaking down.
“Would we lose OneLove?” said Fluppit.
“We’d lose everyone,” said Sari.
Fluppit knew that the vat was somehow a collective of all the folk, and even some non-folk who’d been interred there, but she’d come to think of it as OneLove, since it most often spoke with the same voice—the old human Dun and Padg insisted on addressing as Myrch. It certainly had a strange voice, but Fluppit had always found it hard to wrap her whiskers around the idea that it was many folk, all in there somewhere. It was what made OneLove so wise. And why they all had so much to lose.
“And everything,” said Nev. “If the vat goes down, all those systems it controls—air, water, temperature—”
Kaj cut in, “I’m sure we could figure out how they all work and work them ourselves,”
“Sure, we could,” said Nev, “But how long would we have?”
“Not very long if he controls the air,” said Padg.
Despite the miserable tone, Fluppit was glad Padg’s sense of humour was back. She suspected they were going to need it.
****
SHE’D SPENT HER LIFE in the company of adults and really loved it, but there was no one contemporaneous with her, how could there be? She’d been right in the middle of all the biggest developments in the Folk for eons. It was like those fairy tales that OneLove used to tell her when she was small—the princess had all of the information and none of the agency. But what if the princess could talk to the wizard in her mind, like Fluppit did? Used to do. No one was talking to anyone with crazy mind powers, as the aerial used to amplify and relay all those signals was controlled by OneLove too. It now lived in his vat, like so much else, it was connected to his systems. To him.
There was a crash and a scatter of folks, the whole table in front of her was upended and everyone shouted. Dun and Padg were barking at each other as one of them had launched into a sprint across the open ground between them and the market stalls and tents of Gantrytown proper. Fluppit had her hands over her ears, crouched instinctively as the smashed and broken pieces of crockery and debris fell around her.
