Dark Foundations (15 page)

“The handbook says it's a good idea to always know where you are for escape routes,” Lloyd said. “But, sir, I have to say I find this place a bit confusing.”

“Ynysmant
is
confusing, especially in the dark. People who have lived here for months can easily take a wrong turning. There are five levels—only they aren't very level—with more or less circular roads that we call circles. The main road—Island Road—runs up from the Gate House to Congregation Square on the summit and links them. But there are lots of small side roads that run off. Like this.”

“It's interesting. Pretty.”

“Thanks. But it's all steep, Lloyd. And having all these three and four-story terraced houses makes it seem even steeper. They say the design deliberately echoes some of the old strongholds—fortified towns—on Ancient Earth.”

They continued up the street.

“Sir, I'm surprised how few people there are out. Is that normal?”

“No.” Merral paused. “It's odd.”

At a street corner, a poster on a wall caught Merral's eye.

“What's this?” he said and read the headline aloud. “‘Unhappy with the shape you are? Join our Slimming Classes.'” He looked at his aide. “Make any sense to you, Lloyd?”

“Not at all, sir. I mean, our shape's a thing that the Most High gives us, isn't it? So why be unhappy about it?”

“Exactly. And posters? We never had them before. It's ugly.”

Lloyd shrugged. “Beats me.”

They walked on upward and soon encountered more posters. One declared that Renato's was
the finest bakery in Ynysmant
; another, a few steps further on, proclaimed that
Carig's Bakery gives
fresher
bread.
It was almost, Merral thought with some puzzlement, as if they were in competition with each other.

As they walked on, they saw other posters. Merral continued to note the trend toward competition. Against an announcement of a concert at the Lakeside Center was another for Forestview Hall, which proclaimed in larger letters that, on the same night, their music played
longer, later, and louder.

Merral frowned. “Lloyd, I know this town. At least, I
knew
it. I roamed every street as a kid. But now? It's like being in a different town altogether.”

Lloyd murmured his sympathies.

They walked under an ivy-draped archway, their footsteps making an echoing clatter.

“What's that?” Merral said, hearing new noises.

From some distance away came the sound of shouting, strident laughter, and running feet. Clearly, Merral decided, some sort of boisterous party was coming their way.

To his right, a door shut with a firm click. To his left, a sash window slid closed. Above him, a balcony was quietly vacated. All around, lights flicked off.

As the noise grew, it seemed to indicate a group of teens.

Lloyd gently grabbed Merral's shoulder. “Sir,” he said, gesturing to a side alley, “I think we ought to get out of the way.”

A panic-stricken cat flashed past them, a flying pebble bouncing after it over the cobblestones.

“No!” said Merral sharply, pulling Lloyd's hand off his shoulder. “This is
my
town and I'm not running away from some kids.”

“The handbook advises that it is far better to avoid confrontation.”

The footsteps were louder now. The youths almost in sight.

“Sergeant, I'm supposed to be the commander of the Farholme Defense Force. I am
not
going to run from some noisy adolescents!”

“Very well, sir. But I'll stand here.” Lloyd gestured to a nearby recess in a wall that was hidden in darkness. “If there's trouble, I have the advantage of surprise.”

“Go ahead. But I'm not moving.”

Ahead, the group rounded the corner. Merral stared at them, straining his eyes to try to make out who they were. There were six of them, all under twenty. All wore almost identical light gray clothing.

The group came to a ragged halt a few paces in front of Merral. Peering at them, he saw that they all had dark paint daubs on their faces.

“So who's this then?” said the leading youth in an aggressive tone.

“Let's say I'm a visitor,” Merral said, irritated, alarmed, and—he now realized—a little frightened.

“We don't like visitors, do we?” rasped the leader, moving his face uncomfortably close to Merral's.

“Nah!” chorused the others.

“They bring diseases!” another lad hooted, as if it were the funniest joke he had ever heard. There was more hooting and laughter and Merral was aware of an unsettling odor of sweat and hormones.

“Lads,” Merral said, trying to adopt a soothing tone of voice, “it's late and you're a bit noisy. Why not head off home?”

“Giving orders are we?” the leader said, once more sticking his face so close to Merral that Merral could smell his sour breath. “We don't like that, do we, boys?”

There was a roar of agreement.

This is crazy!
This is
my
town!
“It was just a suggestion,” he answered, still trying to lower the tension.

“Same thing,” said the leader, moving even closer.

As he did, a large form, distorted by the streetlights into something even larger, emerged from the darkness, reached out, and in a single swift move, lifted the youth into the air.

“Let me down!” he yelped as his feet swung off the ground.

“I think it's bedtime.” Lloyd's voice was a slow drawl.

“Okay, okay!” the wriggling figure replied. “It was just a joke!”

There was a new noise now, the sound of a motorized vehicle rattling and bouncing over the cobbles.

“Police! Time to go!” The other youths fled down the passageway with wild yells. Lloyd dropped the lad he was holding and swung out hard with his foot as the boy turned to run. There was a yelp and the teen hobbled away, rubbing his bottom.

“I hope you didn't object to my interference, sir,” Lloyd said. “Mr. V. authorized all reasonable force. And the handbook would have suggested more drastic measures. It's part of the job.”

“No . . . thanks. It was an appropriate response, I suppose. But what's this?”

The two-seater came to a stop just in front of them, a blue light on the roof flashing brightly. Blinking in the glare, Merral saw two men emerge with long sticks and handlights.

“Ynysmant Police. Names and addresses,” the taller of the two said in a curt tone.

“Good grief,” Merral muttered. He stepped forward, gesturing Lloyd back. He could now see that the men wore uniforms.

“Merral Stefan D'Avanos,” he replied, then added, as an afterthought, “Commander.”

The handlight flashed on his face.

“Indeed.”

“So it is,” the shorter man added.

“Sorry, sir,” the taller man said. “We knew you were in town. Of course. There's a gang of kids from down Hanston Road roaming around. Being very troublesome, they are. Were they a nuisance?”

“They weren't as friendly as they might have been.”

“One way of putting it. This town's the devil to police. Too many alleys.”

“They run through the gardens,” the shorter man said.

“What would you have done if you had caught them?” Merral asked.

“Just warned them. We have no power yet. In a month though, they say, we will. Powers of arrest and detention. Lockups, magistrates.”

“And a penal code,” said the shorter policeman.

“I wasn't aware of this,” Merral said.

“It's brand-new. And who is this with you, sir?”

Lloyd made as if to speak, but Merral gestured him to be silent. “A friend,” he said.

“Your name please?” the taller policeman said, staring up at Lloyd.

“Why do you need it?” Merral asked.

“Orders from Isterrane. We have to make full reports of any incidents.”

“With names,” added the shorter man.

“Ah,” said Merral, feeling irritated and alarmed for the second time in five minutes. “I'm afraid my friend here is on FDF business with me. I can't reveal his name.”

The two men walked back to the vehicle, consulted with each other, and then came back.

“It's all very irregular,” the taller man said, “but we can't argue. Anyway, off you go. But watch yourself on these streets.” And with that they got into the vehicle and reversed away.

Merral turned to Lloyd. “Forget the walk. I want to go to bed. I've had as much as I can take today.”

6

I
n the morning, Merral left for Isabella's with Lloyd, whose jacket again bulged oddly. The Danols lived on the other side of town and the easiest route would have been a more or less direct walk through the parks at the foot of the low cliffs that here formed the base of the third circle. Instead Merral chose to take a longer route. This took him round the upper promenade, a roadway that overlooked, and in places, almost overhung, Ynysmere Lake.

As they walked, Merral found himself the focus of attention for many people and spent a lot of time exchanging greetings or acknowledging the waved and shouted good wishes. But behind all the goodwill, Merral felt the same hunger for reassurance he had felt at the airport.

At a craggy point where the promenade turned to the southeast, Merral stopped and looked over the low wall. Below, the steep cliff face fell sharply down to tiered houses, and a hundred meters below, the lake, its waters gleaming pale in the morning light.

To the left, beyond the narrow two-kilometer string of the causeway, the land rose toward the green haze of the Great Northern Forest.

He stared at it moodily.
The word
forest
used to refer to something pleasant and delightful, a place where children played and couples walked. Now it has become something dark and fearsome. Our world
has become haunted
.

High above them, the bell on the tower of Congregation Hall tolled nine.

“Well, Sergeant, we must go. Battle looms.”

“Battle, sir? I thought you were seeing this Isabella.”

“Lloyd, the words
battle
and
Isabella
are, sadly, not mutually exclusive.”

Merral's knock at the door of the Danols' house was quickly answered by Isabella. He had the briefest impression of a very smart blue summer dress before she clutched him in a tight hug.

“Oh, Merral!” she said with a little cry of pleasure. But she seemed to stiffen as Lloyd stepped from behind Merral.

“Let me introduce you,” Merral said, untangling himself from her grasp. “My aide, Sergeant Lloyd Enomoto. Lloyd, Isabella Danol.”

“Pleased to meet you, Lloyd,” she said, but her tone hinted otherwise.

“And you, Isabella,” came the response.

Isabella stared at the big man and then turned to Merral with a look of inquiry.

“Lloyd goes with me everywhere,” Merral explained hastily. “But he'll just take a seat here downstairs.”

“I have plenty of work to do,” Lloyd added.

“That's fine,” Isabella said, her tone rather too crisp. “You can use the general room on the ground floor. My sisters are out with my parents. Merral, let's go upstairs.”

As they climbed to the top floor, Isabella turned to Merral and said in a half whisper, “What's
he
for?”

Here we go,
the start of the penetrating questions.
Remember, whatever she says and however sweetly she says it, don't relax
.

“It's quite simple. Vero is—rather unreasonably in my view—still worried about security. He believes there's still a risk and is concerned that I might be the focus of that risk.”

“So, is Lloyd a bodyguard?”

He looked at her, noticing that she had take a great deal of care over her dress and appearance. There was not a hair out of place and her clothes had sharp creases in all the right places. “Yes. I'm impressed you know the word. I didn't.”