“It was—” the boy closed his eyes and moaned.
“Tell me and you’ll live to see the sunrise,” said Fiddler.
The boy reached for the sky with one hand, pointing, perhaps hallucinating. He dropped the hand far away from his body and coughed. Fiddler watched him in the manner a scientist might when observing a particularly disgusting parasite.
“It was – From the ground,” said the boy. “They came and they’re – agèd. They live forever. They were gonna make us live forever,” he said, coughing, his face scrunched up with emotion. Fiddler stared at him. He retrieved his sword and sheathed it. He stepped away from the boy who seemed to fall unconscious.
Fiddler revved his engine and sidled up to the broken boy. “If you should live—” he said, driving over the boy’s hand. The boy screamed as the first wheel and the second passed over him, cracking fingers. “Remember my name. Tell your masters who crippled you, and killed your friends, and tell them to expect the same fate.”
He drove off the road.
23
The Combi, as they called themselves – the beach dwellers – erected a massive tent with a hole in the centre of the roof. A great bonfire crackled inside and there were stumps for sitting on, and a table with seafood, venison, honeyed cakes and a clear alcoholic liquid served from irregular glass jugs into wooden cups. There was a motley band with many drums, pan flutes and a guitar. People took turns singing, and all around the fire the Combi danced half-naked, drunkenly and happily. Alana was amongst them, Kirwyn sat on a stump on the outskirts watching the revelry. Saburo entered the tent and sidled up to the former munk. They both stared at Alana, she was smiling and twisting her arms to the music.
“Are you fucking her?” Saburo asked quietly.
Kirwyn choked on his drink. “No,” he said, annoyed at the rudeness.
“Really? But, you’re trying though right?” said Saburo.
“No.” said Kirwyn definitively.
“Oh…” Saburo looked down sympathetically “Because you’re a priest?”
Kirwyn gulped down his drink. “She’s pretty I suppose. But I barely know her. And I’m not a priest.”
Saburo considered this with a tilted head and stretched lips. “So you wouldn’t mind if I…” he made a vague gesture.
“I mean – do as you please,” said Kirwyn.
“Thanks,” said Saburo, relieved. “I just didn’t wanna be the bad guy you know? Needed to make sure.” He patted Kirwyn on the shoulder.
“Of course,” said Kirwyn, eyes drunkenly out of focus. He watched the Cavalier hop up to dance. Saburo offered his hand to Alana who accepted it. Kirwyn poured himself another drink, downed it, then stumbled outside, struggling with the flaps of the door. He found a secluded dune and urinated. He walked back, stepping drunkenly in time to the music in the tent.
“Enjoying the party?” asked Loma, looking up at him.
“Jesus!” shouted Kirwyn, turning away from her. She was a few metres away, wearing a white tunic, sitting wrapped in a blanket.
“I never really liked parties myself,” she said to nobody in particular, smiling sadly at the sea.
“No?” said Kirwyn, drunkenly sitting beside her.
“Always felt like… organised fun. Like, start having fun:….now,” she clicked her fingers.
“I don’t have enough experience to form an opinion… to be honest,” mumbled Kirwyn
“I only go to them nowadays if my girlfriend drags me.”
There was a silence. Two Combi walked past talking loudly.
“Where is she then? Back at Avalon or whatever,” slurred Kirwyn
“Yeah.”
“Of course,” said Kirwyn, eyes scrunched up. “She a pilot too?”
“No!” Loma laughed. “She’s an artist.”
“Oh. She any good?”
Loma paused, and was saddened. “Yes, actually. She’s… the best.”
“That’s good,” said Kirwyn childishly.
“It’s just – talking about her out here – I don’t know, sometimes I feel like I’ll never see her again.”
“You will,”
“I can’t describe – I’m just under so much pressure,” she said. “I feel lost. I am lost. ”She grabbed her knees and looked out to the sea stoically. Kirwyn staggered to his feet and looked down at her, as solemnly as his drunkenness would allow.
“I don’t know what you believe in—” he began. “But… I believe in you. For what that’s worth… You’re a good leader. You’ll see her again.” She looked up at him and smiled with one corner of her mouth, but she looked away, her eyes were still sad. He patted her on the shoulder and headed back for the tent. Saburo flung open the tent flaps and headed straight for him.
“That Ranger bitch, you can keep her,” he said and walked off into the dark, swigging a bottle of clear liquid. Kirwyn stopped for a moment watching him, shrugged and walked into the tent. He saw Alana dancing with the Combi as if nothing had happened. He poured himself another drink from the table and sat on a stump and watched them.
24
“Morning lovebirds,” said Alana.
Loma pushed her chin to her chest, eyes scrunched. Saburo’s arm was around her, and his head lay by her breast. Loma shaded her eyes with her hand and exhaled through her teeth. She got up, dizzily and wrapped the Combi blanket around her, leaving Saburo naked in the sand, blinking and confused. Loma walked briskly towards the beach house, blanket wrapped around her like a cloak. Alana followed her.
“Didn’t think he was your type,” Alana said slyly.
Loma didn’t respond.
“I thought you looked down on us Brituns – but then you go for a biker! The lowest of the low.”
“Fuck off,” spat Loma
“I’ve got some pills you can borrow, to take care of… you know.”
Loma was visibly confused, but then – “We’re sterilized after puberty, giving birth requires a licence on Avalon.”
“Oh. Well you never told me that.”
“You never asked. It’s to stop overpopulation. Why, you wanna have kids?”
“No… You’re not going to wash?”
Loma had turned to enter the beach house, but stopped angrily and now turned back to the sea, passing Alana without making eye contact, drawing the blanket over her head.
Alana caught up to her, she smiled “So how was it?”
“We’re leaving in an hour. Where’s your manservant?”
“Oh Kirwyn? I haven’t seen him since last night. No, but seriously, how did that happen?”
Loma stopped. She dug her heels in the sand, turning to face Alana. She was incensed. “I was drunk. I told him how I got here. How I got my people killed. I was depressed. He told me about his dead friends. I cried. He cried. We fucked. OK. Are you getting off on this?”
Alana was taken aback. “No,” she said in a small voice.
“Leave me alone,” Loma said coldly, then turned and continued to the sea. Alana watched her walk for a while, then headed back to the beach house, then onto the Combi tent. She passed Saburo, who had dressed himself partially, but still lay face down in the sand motionless. She did not wake him. She climbed up the grassy dunes, continued on uphill till she saw the walls of the great tent, which were sagging slightly, the centre no longer breathed smoke. She flapped open the entrance and looked for Kirwyn in the low light.
She laughed. “Did everyone get laid last night except me?”
There was a horde of revellers, drunkenly snoozing in various poses on the sand. Kirwyn was amidst them, the only one fully clothed, nuzzled next to a great bald fat man, with a big grey beard and grey chest hair. Kirwyn released himself from the sleeping embrace.