“Another time.”
“There are spoons there,” said Courtland, staring at the pile we had just discovered, “and we’ve got at least four more hours before we have to turn back. I’m the higher color, so I say we go on.”
“You forget yourself,” I replied. “There are no spots out here. I’m team leader.”
“All right,” he agreed, swiftly changing tack. “Did you see the ring she was wearing?”
I looked to check her dry and wizened hands, but it was only a ploy, and I heard the door swing shut behind me. Before I could even move, the bolt was thrown.
“Well, now,” said Courtland from the other side of the door, “that’s for meddling in Yellow business—a present from the Gamboges.”
I swallowed hard and tried to sound normal in spite of my anger and indignation. “Open the door, Courtland. This isn’t funny.”
“On the contrary,” he replied with a laugh, “I think it’s quite rich. I’ll admit that I thought the whole expedition lark was a load of rubbish this morning, but it’s grown on me. I quite like the idea of becoming ‘the man who brought color back to East Carmine.’ But it’s the spoons Tommo and I are really interested in. We’re going on to High Saffron.”
“What if you don’t come back?”
There was a pause.
“We wouldn’t let you out even if we did. You’ve been nothing but trouble since the moment you arrived, and I can’t see matters improving, especially since your outrageous accusations regarding Travis Canary.
No, Eddie my friend, I’m afraid you’re staying here for good. We waited and waited but you never returned. Tragic, really, but we did all we could. Violet will be able to squeeze out a tear, and we might even put your name on the departures board.”
“Tommo?” I said. “Are you in on this?”
There was a pause, and when he spoke, I could hear the tension in his voice. “You must admit, you could have toed the line a little better, Eddie. It wouldn’t have taken much. Double-ordering the Lincoln, for a start.”
I swore to myself. It didn’t look good. But just then I saw a shape flick past the vertical slit that was my window. My heart fair missed a beat, and I ran to the door, misjudged the distance, and bumped my head painfully against one of the hinge pins.
“Guys!” I shouted while I rubbed my head. “Someone just moved past my window!”
There was a demeritable curse, a scrabble and the sound of something falling over as they made for the exit. I ran to the window and peered out as a few seconds later Courtland heaved into view, closely followed by Tommo. They looked frightened. If I’d made it all up, I’d have been a genius. Sadly, I hadn’t.
Tommo cried, “There!” and ran off, closely followed by Courtland. I heard some shouts and a yell, a sharp cry and then silence. I tried to look out of the window, but the flak tower’s walls were a yard thick, and all I could see was the rear of the bulldozer, thirty yards away. I rummaged in the dust and debris for a piece of metal to use as a tool to at least attempt an escape, but as I did, I heard the bolt on the door drawn back. I picked up the lightglobe and shone it at the door, and when no one appeared, I gently pushed it open. I stepped into the main room and heard a childish giggle. I turned slowly around.
Standing on the steps that led to the upper floors was a young girl aged no more than ten, wearing a much-repaired dress. She had bare feet, expertly plaited hair and a grimy face. I blinked, but she was not a Pooka, and after giving me a cheery wave, she disappeared up the stairs.
Before I could even begin to digest what I had just seen, I heard another cry from outside, so I ran out the door and sprinted to the back of the tower. There I found Tommo and Courtland grappling with Jane, who, while putting up a good show for herself, would eventually succumb to numbers and greater strength.
Without stopping to think, I kicked Tommo and felt a rib break beneath my toe. He fell away with a cry, and I thumped Courtland as hard as I could, which wasn’t that hard, and I hurt my hand. But it gave Jane an opportunity to free herself, and as quick as lightning she had expertly turned Courtland onto his back and held a sharpened potato peeler at his throat.
“Okay, okay,” he said, his manner suddenly changing. “Let’s just think about what you’re doing here.”
He looked up at me. “Eddie,” he said, “we’re going to be prefects together. Tell her to lay off.”
I was still shaking. I had never been in a fight in my entire life. “Tell her to lay off? You were going to leave me here to starve!”
He gave out a laugh. “You are so gullible, Russett. We were just going to let you stew a bit. A prank.
Isn’t that right, Tommo?”
Tommo was on the ground, doubled up in pain. He shook his head, then nodded, then shrugged, then groaned.
“You can have this one on me,” growled Jane. “Tell me to spare him and I’ll spare him. Bleed him and I’ll do that, too.”
I answered without hesitation. “Spare him.”
She pushed him away and then stood next to me, trembling with anger.
“Perhaps this is how all toshing parties end up,” I said sadly. “Maybe there are no Pookas or Mildew or flying monkeys or anything. Just fear and a few too many arguments over spoons.”
I took a deep breath.
“Tommo,” I said, “you’re heading back to Bleak Point, where you’ll wait for us until—when’s sundown?”
“Eight-thirty.”
“Right. You’ll wait until seven-thirty precisely, when you’ll take Violet and the Ford back into East Carmine. Can you do that?”
Still unable to speak, he simply nodded.
“Go now.”
He very gingerly got to his feet and, holding his side, limped off. “What about us?” asked Jane.
“We’re going to High Saffron.”
She stared at me for a moment, head to one side. “You may regret it.” “I can’t regret this trip any more than I do already.”
“I’m coming, too,” said Courtland, getting to his feet.
And with this, she seemed to change her mind.
“Okay, then. But we’d better get a move on. It’s about a three-hour walk to where the Perpetulite reestablishes itself, and High Saffron is an hour beyond that.”
Courtland and I stared at her.
“You’ve been there before?” I asked.
“Once or twice.”
“Will there be spoons?” asked Courtland.
“Oh, yes,” she replied with a smile, “there shall definitely be spoons.”
A Herald Speaks
3.6.12.03.267: Unicycles are not to be ridden backward at excessive speed.
We followed the track of the old road, which zigzagged steeply down the escarpment. Jane and I both insisted that Courtland walk at least twenty paces in front of us, something he said he didn’t mind since he wouldn’t be able to see our “loathsome faces.” He was carrying Tommo’s satchel as well as his own, so clearly had high hopes of bringing home some spoils. I had checked the time before we left; we had used up almost half an hour of our contingency.
“So,” said Jane, “how did you enjoy meeting your first Riffraff?”
“I owe her my life, and perhaps yours.”
“Possibly. Was it the mother or the daughter who let you out?”
“Daughter, I think.”
“That would be Martha. They don’t call themselves Riffraff, you know.”
“What, then?”
“The Digenous.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s just what they call themselves.”
“And what do they call us?”
“Many names, and none of them polite.”
At the bottom of the escarpment the road seemed to vanish entirely, until I realized that a watercourse had also considered this the best way to reach the valley floor, and had washed out the roadbed. So we followed the stream, past the rubble of houses, a telephone booth still with flecks of red paint and yet another land crawler, which was now half buried in the streambed, having had the road washed out from beneath it. I’d not seen one before this morning, and now they seemed to be everywhere.