Expatria: The Box Set (7 page)

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Authors: Keith Brooke

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Sitting with his feet over the edge of the port hull, Mathias watched the sun climb slowly from the sea. It was morning and they were not long from docking at Orlyons. Mathias tried to estimate how long it would take them but gave up; it was too much work. Staring at the waves, he wondered if he would ever see his old friends again. At one time it had mattered to him, they were all he had, but the years had faded his memories. He had a new life now.

Mono had been worried by the stories of people asking around Orlyons about him. She thought they might be agents of the Hanrahan clan, out to seize him and take him back. At one time he would have agreed, but not now.

Back when Mathias had been under close arrest, Idi had been right. The new authorities did not know how to handle the situation. Edward had known that he couldn't allow a trial—they had no evidence—and he couldn't simply keep Mathias locked away while he stole the Primacy.

So he had been allowed to escape.

Sala, in her efforts to keep Newest Delhi from falling into chaos, had gone along; maybe it had even been her idea—it would smooth the transition and, at the same time, ensure that Mathias could escape to some sort of freedom.

From the security of Orlyons, Mathias could see how neat the plot to let him flee had been. To any outsider, it would be apparent that he was the guilty party. Why else would he run? At the time, there had been no other option, but now, even Mathias saw that it had cast him in an unfair light. He could never return to Newest Delhi.

Presently, he could make out the docks. He stood and stretched. Other skippers would be hurrying about at this stage, but Mathias was not like that. His crew was experienced—the best fisherpeople in Orlyons queued up to work under Mathias—and he preferred to let them do their own thing. He had never had any problems working this way, so he joined the crew, sorting the ice-boxes ready for unloading.

Sukui was on the docks, watching Mathias unload his boat and sign chitties for a number of traders. Mathias did what he could to occupy some more time but Sukui waited patiently, writing the occasional note in his small book.

'Sukui-san,' said Mathias, finally, clambering out of the cat. 'I hope your visit has been successful.'

Sukui nodded slowly. 'I am told that you designed these twin-hulled vessels. Your talents have been noted.'

Mathias didn't know quite what to make of Sukui's genial approach. 'Thanks,' he said. 'They're a lot more stable than the old ones. You need that when you have a catch like this.' He gestured at the remaining crates of iced fish waiting to be wheeled away from the docks. 'The sea was generous this time.'

'You have an affinity with the sea.' Sukui nodded and visibly stopped himself from opening his diary to make a note. 'That is not a characteristic we share.'

'The sea's always helped me think.' They began to walk. 'I used to spend a lot of time by the sea, when I was in Newest Delhi. If I ever wanted to get away I just made for the cliffs.' He sighed. 'That's a long way back, now.'

Sukui gave Mathias a quizzical look.

'I know,' said Mathias. 'Everyone who knows who I am eventually asks me the same question. No, I didn't kill my father. The Primacy didn't matter that much to me. I...' He faltered. 'The stories aren't true.'

'In Alabama City we have a Project,' said Sukui. 'There are many people of a certain type. We are scientists. We have the favour of the Lord Salvo Andric, Prime of Alabama City. We work in many fields but our main goal is to restore understanding of the ancient technologies.' He stopped and smiled at Mathias. 'Let me be succinct, Hanrahan. You are lazy and unscrupulous—I have investigated you thoroughly—and your history is tainted with dishonesty'—he raised his hands to silence Mathias—'but you also have a vestigial talent. At some level you are gifted. There is a place for you in Alabama City. You must think about it. Talent must not go to waste.'

Mathias was surprised by the offer. Sukui didn't like him, and it was clear that he did not trust him either. 'No,' he said, grinning, happy to overlook Sukui's insults. 'You're too generous.'

'Think about it,' said Sukui. 'You may wish to reconsider.' The scientist started to walk away.

At least Mathias had an explanation for why someone had been asking about him: it was Sukui, as crude with people as he was with the cards.

Then the scientist stopped and turned to Mathias. 'I am growing old,' he said. 'I almost forgot: there is someone looking for you. She is, apparently, very keen that she should meet you again. She said something about a
debt?
'

'Who?' asked Mathias, suddenly wishing he had not asked.

'Her name was... it began with an L.' Sukui opened his diary and scanned a few pages. 'Ah,' he said, 'this is it: Lucilla Ngota. Apparently she is quite eager to renew your acquaintance.'

~

Mathias spent the hour before MidNight wiring Mono's Gibson Semi-A into a makeshift PA system at Salomo's.

He tried to put thoughts of Lucilla Ngota out of his head.

She was the wild card he had not even considered. He remembered her reaction to March's death, the look of hatred in her eyes.

And now she had found him in Orlyons. He tried not to think about it.

The materials weren't as good as those he had used in the market-place at Newest Delhi, but they were the best Alya Kik had been able to locate. The amplifier and speaker were a single unit; from the tuning dial Mathias guessed it had been some kind of radio apparatus at one time. Now it was powered by a newly charged cell that Salomo had lent to the Monotones for the night.

Mathias's wiring was crude. He had no soldering pen, so the connections were just twisted together, but it worked, after a fashion. The speaker's size limited and distorted the range and tones and there were a lot of buzzes from the bad connections; it wasn't very loud, either, but Mathias guessed that it would give the guitar the sort of guts Mono was looking for.

Mono came in and kissed Mathias. She was dressed the same as usual, leggings and a short kimono. The 'tones were about music, not looks, she always said. 'Ready to try?' he asked.

Mono nodded, then picked up her guitar and looped the strap casually around her neck.

'Mind the cable,' said Mathias, but Mono wasn't listening.

The Semi-A had hummed when she lifted it, and she studied it curiously. She formed a chord and strummed once with the back of a fingernail. The chord was fuzzy and distorted but she smiled and played the chord again, adding a sixth. 'Yeah,' she said, and Mathias knew she was pleased.

As Mono explored the new dynamics of her old Semi-A, Mathias began to see what she was doing, how she was using the distortion to add to the sound. It drew the notes out, made the guitar really wail. It gave a chunkiness to the power chords, too, filling gaps in Mono's playing he had never even noticed before.

Gradually the rest of the Monotones turned up. Unpacking their instruments, they stared at Mono as she practised, then they joined in, adding to the wall of sound. It was a good turnout for the 'tones, Mathias counted nine of them, plus himself. They had a good puffer's section, fronted by Slide and Milly. Belugi was there, hands too fast to follow across the keys of his piano-accordion, and last of all there was Mabella with her banjo, pulling it from its plastic bag and joining in to a pulled-about twelve-bar blues.

Aisha Lucas was slapping away at her free-standing drums, trying to hold the whole thing together, and she shouted across to Mathias, 'You merely spectatin'?' Mathias was so used to being the onlooker that he bad forgotten to join in. He scouted around for his drums, found them, picked up the beat.

'What's the row?' yelled Salomo, a short time later. 'Will you wait till we're at least open, huh? I want them at least to buy their drinks before you drive them out!' Someone threw an orange at him but the Monotones wound down. The sound check was complete.

The streets outside were already alive with the energy of MidNight. The group waited in the bar at first, watching the people passing by. Then Salomo opened up and told them to move out back so the paying customers didn't have to look at their ugly faces. Not for a while, anyway.

Mathias was glad to be out of the way. He stood in the doorway of the room where Salomo held his card schools and watched the faces of the people who were rapidly filling the bar. He recognised no one from his past, only faces familiar from Orlyons. But then he wouldn't
expect
Lucilla to bring along anyone he might recognise. He considered pulling out of the gig, but the bug had reached him: something special was happening tonight—he had heard the beginnings of it in the warm-up—and he wanted to be involved, he wanted to be a part of Mono's triumph.

Salomo headed for the back-room and Mathias stepped clear. The big man's head poked through the doorway and he said, 'If you're going to do it, then you might as well be doing it now.'

The Monotones stirred, then Mono took the lead and headed for the small stage where their instruments awaited them. 'OK,' she called to the packed club. 'We're gonna play some music.' She hit a chord straight away and those who had reached their instruments joined in on a loose blues medley.

At first Mathias didn't like the response. The talking grew louder and there were a few hecklers at the back. But Mono started to make her guitar do unbelievable things and pretty soon the feeling that this was a one-off event had spread around drinkers and musicians alike. Steadily, the background noise died down and the music took its place.

Sitting with his gin-shell drums in his lap, Mathias felt both participant and spectator. He knew he was contributing to the event but he was on the outside, too, watching it happen. He wondered if the others felt like that, watching Mono hit that guitar, hearing that amplified Semi-A scream and so-gently-murmur its message to the world.

They finished the set on 'Mama Gonna Sell My Soul', and that guitar was crying, weeping tears of sound to contrast the grit in Mono's voice. The room was silent when the last chord finally died. The crowd caught its breath and murmured approval, then it roared and bayed and Mathias was thankful they had set up close to the back-room door and sanctuary.

Mono was buzzing when they dragged her through that door.

'This is it!' she cried. 'This is
it!
' Through the closed door the crowd was chanting for more.

Salomo appeared for a time. 'Give us a few minutes for them to buy their drinks, at least, will you? Then keep it
short
. Those fuckers didn't buy a
thing
while you made that row. Not a goddamned thing.' Salomo was smiling like Mathias had never seen him smile before. '
God-damn
,' he muttered, as he closed the door and returned to the bar.

They gave Salomo his selling time, then they filtered back into the main room. Mono and Mathias were last out. As they reached the doorway Vera-Lynne Perse appeared before them, a stranger by her side. 'Hi,' she said. 'They liked it, traditionalists that they are.'

Mathias pushed Mono forward and said, 'Go on, Mono, they want you. I'll be up soon.' To his relief, she went. He didn't want her to be a part of this.

The stranger stepped into the back-room and Vera-Lynne followed. 'Matt,' she said. Her voice was faltering. She appeared to have noticed that something was amiss. 'This man... he said he was an old friend of yours.'

The man was wearing a thick leather coat, his hands buried deep in its pockets. 'Miz Ngota sends her regards,' he said, and suddenly Mathias placed him: an officer with the Guard, Andras MacLeugh. 'And she asked me to give you this.'

His hand jerked out of his coat and Mathias saw a flash of metal, a knife.

MacLeugh was close, but Mathias had been ready for him. As the knife swung up towards his belly, he caught MacLeugh's wrist and spun him with his own momentum. He cracked the man's hand against the open door and the knife flew into the crowded bar. MacLeugh countered with a head-butt to the body, winding Mathias, pushing him back into the room and then Vera-Lynne finally screamed.

Staggering to his feet, breathing deeply, Mathias barged his opponent, the force of his charge carrying them both past the flapping Vera-Lynne and into the main room of Salomo's club.

Mathias broke free and immediately he lost MacLeugh in the crowd. People were yelling and shouting, but Mathias just kept his head down, forcing his way to the door and out into the bustling street. As he ran, listening for sounds of pursuit, he tried to make a plan, but instead, all he could do was ask himself why a member of the Primal Guard had tried to kill him. Until then, he had assumed that it was only Lucilla, that it was only a matter of revenge. Now an alternative loomed: secure, at last, in the Primacy, Edward had decided that it was time Mathias was silenced.

He slowed to a trot and then a fast walk. They might have Mono's room under surveillance so he couldn't go there. But she was his only chance. He would just have to stay low and try to find her.

He jerked around at a sudden sound, but it was only a gang of adolescents, chasing through the streets. Lie low, lie low, was all he could think as he headed for Greene Gardens, hoping desperately that Mono would be the first to find him.

Chapter 8

Greene Gardens formed the only open space in a town with little room for open space. The Gardens were a series of oddly shaped areas, connected by a stream and its overgrown banks. They were on the north side of Orlyons, where the densely packed streets gave way to the rising side of the gorge. Here, great crags of blue and grey intruded into the edge of the town, dragging with them a few pieces of green: some trees and a few mown areas of grass wherever the land achieved a precarious horizontal.

At MidNight, Greene Gardens was the haunt of lovers and drunks, enchanted by the sounds of the stream and the soft scents of wilderness. At other times it was the haunt of merchants arranging deals, traders selling wares too risqué or hot to expose on the streets, whores looking to sell, the wealthy looking for ways to spend.

But despite the ever-present commerce, Greene Gardens was essentially wild, virgin territory enclosed by the growing port of Orlyons.

Away from the pathways and lawns, there were dark places, corners known only to animals and fugitives.

Mathias changed position, again. Stiffness had set in as he waited out the few remaining hours of MidNight, shivering in the cooling wind and trying to shelter from the repeated showers.

He had a good view from where he crouched. He was in the undergrowth that grew up the side of one of the larger crags, well concealed but with a clear outlook over a wide mown area and a pathway that led out of the Gardens and into the part of the Gentian Quarter where Mono lived.

Greene Gardens was almost on Mono's route back from Salomo's and Mathias knew that she loved the place. 'I like the scents,' she had once told him, 'they turn me on.' Her cheeks had dimpled and she had laughed when she saw Mathias's face. 'No, not like that. They turn me on in
here
.' She had smacked herself on the chest, over the heart. Mathias had said something about that being as good a place as any
he
could think of and the moment had passed, but it came back to him now, the mood, the happiness. He could smell the same scents now, Greene Gardens fresh from the MidNight showers. Mathias knew in his heart that Mono would be drawn to the Gardens that day; she could do nothing else.

Someone was walking along the footpath; the Gardens had been quiet that morning and this was the first person Mathias had seen. He peered at the figure but it was not Mono. It was a tall youth, oriental, a wisp of a moustache over his wide, sensual mouth.

'Lui!' hissed Mathias. It was Lui Tsang, a trader with a special talent for electronics.

Lui looked around and Mathias noticed that his face was badly bruised and swollen on one side. After a final reconnaissance, Mathias stepped out from the bushes. 'What have you been doing?' he asked. 'And why wasn't
I
invited?'

Lui laughed and looked around cautiously. 'They said you were dead,' he said. 'Come on. If it's good enough for you then it's good enough for any of us.' He stepped into the undergrowth. 'The word is out, Mathias. After last night. They're out to get you and my guess is they want to get you quick before they draw any more attention to themselves.'

'Lui, do you know
who
they are? One of them tried to knife me last night. Andras MacLeugh. He used to be in the Primal Guard and probably still is. Listen, Lui, I have to know why Lucilla has the Guard with her, I have to know if it's Edward after me or just her. Can you find out?'

'Hmm.' Lui tugged at his moustache. 'The word in Orlyons is that they are militia, posing as cultists. After last night's mess they leaked that they were from Ngota Clan and they had sworn revenge on you.'

'
No
,' said Mathias 'That's not right. MacLeugh isn't Ngota Clan. He's from north of Abidjan!' So it had to be Edward. He had finally decided that his stolen Primacy would be more secure with Mathias dead.

'What can I do, Lui?'

Lui shrugged. 'I don't know, Matt. I guess all you can do is, next time, don't get born into a royal family. Get born in the gutter like the rest of us. When no one can tell you from shit in the street then they have no reason to kill you.'

'You know a scientist called Sukui?'

'I've sold him junk.' Lui smiled awkwardly.

'He said I could go with him to Alabama City, that there was a place for me with his Project. Doing what, I don't know, but it's a place.'

'Then what are you doing sitting here? Jesus, Matt, you get a chance to get out of all this and you hide out in the bushes. Is that'—he pointed at Mathias's head—'bone right through, or only most of the way?'

Mathias shrugged and stared at the strands of lichen that were hanging from the bushes. He knew what he should do, but that would be running away again.

When it was run or be killed, though, what choice
was
there? Scared as he was of staying in Orlyons, he didn't like the prospect of going with Sukui much better. He had to talk to Mono, she was all he had left. 'You never
did
tell me where you collected those bruises, Lui.'

Lui looked at him strangely. 'Where have you
been
, Matt? I was at Salomo's, at the gig. All I knew was the 'tones going up for an encore then a knife came flying through the air. People started screaming and then
you
came charging through. And this other guy. Then I got hit and someone else got hit, and some furniture got broken and somehow I came out of it alive.'

'Is Mono OK?'

'Oh sure,' said Lui. 'I don't know how, but they say no one had more than a few broken bones. I saw Mono afterwards and she was OK. Physically, anyhow. Listen, Matt, one piece of advice: don't ask Salomo for any help. He's liable to tear you apart, from how he was last night.'

Mathias sat down heavily. 'Thanks for telling me, Lui. I'll sort things out.'

Lui stepped back, uncomfortably. 'I've got to go,' he said. Then he turned and headed out of Greene Gardens.

~

He must have dozed, because when he opened his eyes she was sitting there by the stream. She was only a distant figure but he knew it was Mono. She had her head in her hands, her black hair spread over her arms and legs as she slumped forwards over the water. Mathias knew from her pose that she was adding, minutely, to the flow and saltiness of the stream.

He had never seen her crying before.

There were others on the mown area nearby but Mono was apart from them. Mathias could reach her easily without coming into the open but he held back, not wanting to break her solitude. He had done her enough harm already, maybe he should just turn and leave.

But that would be running away.

He waited while a trader he vaguely knew passed along the pathway, hand linked through the arm of a glasshouse farmer. 'I know someone who could throw stones,' he was saying; the farmer laughed half-heartedly, it was clearly a familiar joke.

Closer up, Mono looked terrible. Her knuckles were white where she pressed her hands into her face. The stream gurgled past, not caring the least if it sounded cheerful against Mono's quiet sobbing.

He crouched by her side, said, 'Mono, I'm sorry.'

She lifted her head, looked around, a dazed expression on her shadowed, creased face. Then she sprang at him, crying, 'Matt! Matt!
Matt!
' She hit him in the chest and he fell backwards, Mono in his arms, clutching at him, begging him to be real, to be alive, to be
Matt
.

He tried to hush her, and suddenly she was quiet, not calling his name, just kissing him and holding him to the ground. 'Mono,' he said. 'I didn't know what would happen at Salomo's. I don't know how... but I feel responsible. I wrecked it, Mono, I spoilt it for you...' He carried on, not knowing what he was saying but saying it nonetheless. He didn't know what else to do.

Eventually Mono recovered. She leaned away from his face, sitting astride him, still pinning him to the ground. 'Matt,' she said. 'You talk shit. You're
alive
. I didn't see what was happening—all I could do was duck out. They said there was a guy after you with a knife. Slide said you'd never have got out. Matt,
I thought you were dead
.'

'But... the gig.'

'It was no good, Matt. The music wasn't right.' He could see in her eyes that she was lying, maybe lying to herself rather than to him. 'The music was shit. Who cares if Salomo doesn't want us back. If I want to play again I'll play Greene Gardens like everybody else.'

'Of course you have to play. Mono. What about the Semi-A?'

'It got broke.' Mono slumped against Mathias and began to cry again. 'We were good, weren't we, Matt? They liked us... before...'

'Yeah.' He stroked her hair and waited for her to stop.

'What are you going to do, Matt? You're not safe in Orlyons.' Mathias thought of Sukui's offer. Maybe Mono could come along—Sukui was one of her regulars, maybe she could whore her way to Alabama City and, once there, they could start again. Or maybe they could move around Clermont, find a fishing village somewhere and hope they wouldn't be found.

It was a decision Mathias didn't want to take.

'Come on,' he said. 'I'm going to lie low for a while, think things through.' He stood and pulled Mono to her feet. If he lay low for long enough Sukui would have left and there would be no decision to make. He was honest enough to recognise that maybe that was what he was doing.

~

Mathias sat in the mouth of his cave, listening to the gentle susurrus of the sea. Earlier, he had left Greene Gardens with Mono, his head tied in a tight bandanna, Sikhist style. He had walked boldly through the streets, insisting that Mono walk ahead, clear of any trouble that might arise. No one had challenged them. If the search persisted then they were probably seeking him out in any of the bolt-holes a fugitive could find throughout Orlyons; they wouldn't expect him to be striding openly through the town, out past the merchants' houses that had been built into the gorge-sides when the first trade boom had struck the port.

The northern cliffs were riddled with caves, some no more than hollows in the rock, others deep and unexplored. Mathias's cave was a deep one, although he had penetrated no more than the first fifty metres or so, back to where the light was mid-grey and his eyes were unable to focus.

He sat in the lotus position, letting the world pass him by and, at the same time, trying to grow closer to his surroundings, trying to feel like a part of Expatria, not just someone dumped there by alien ancestors.

It didn't work. He knew that he didn't fit.

Mono had returned to him with food and an opal pendant which she placed around his neck and told him to keep. 'Whatever happens,' she had said, 'this is for you. My eleven-greats grandmother bought it in Jakarta, before she joined the Ark Ship. So the story goes.'

Mono had stayed for a short time and then left to see what was happening in Orlyons. 'Come back soon,' Mathias had said; then, as her figure diminished in size and finally lost itself on the rocky beach, he had repeated it softly: 'Come back soon, Mono.'

So Mathias Hanrahan sat, listening to the waves and trying, again, to stop the thoughts that were running through his mind. Things were clearer now, but it was still too much for him to handle on his own. He watched a cutter clipping the wave-tops with its wings and then dodging a gull that stooped at it, trying to make it regurgitate its most recent meal.

'It would have been a simple matter to kill you, Mister Hanrahan.' Mathias flinched. 'You are somewhat inattentive for one in such a predicament.' It was Sukui, standing to one side, hands folded in front of him, showing that he was unarmed.

'Sukui-san,' said Mathias. 'I didn't hear you approach.'

'As I initially observed.'

Mathias gestured for him to sit, but the scientist remained standing.

'Silence is a simple manner, if the codes are logically followed. It is no feat.' Finally, Sukui sat and stared out to sea.

'The old books talk of waves higher than I've ever seen,' said Mathias, in an effort to keep the conversation neutral. 'Do you have an explanation?'

'The old books talk of many things,' said Sukui. 'They talk of animals the size of large buildings and particles smaller than specks of sand. They talk of weapons that destroy entire cities with their blasts and of nations that exist only as electrical patterns in global communications networks. My colleagues in Alabama City know that all these things are possible.

'You ask about the sea. Our planet is smaller than Earth, and it turns more rapidly; a logical hypothesis is that our planet turns so fast that there is little time for one side of the sphere to heat up before it is turned away from the sun and cooling again. Old books say that it is such differences in heat distribution that drive the weather systems and they that drive the waves. A hypothesis to consider in more detail, perhaps once you have proven yourself in Alabama City? If, of course, you act rationally and accompany me there.'

'How did you find me?'

Sukui smiled briefly. 'Another elementary piece of deduction. You are not fool enough to stay in Orlyons; I credit you with that much sense. On an earlier occasion you told me that you found the sea therapeutic. There is a certain prostitute in Orlyons who I understand is an acquaintance of yours. She was careful, but clearly she is not a deep thinker. You have no reason to worry: I was the only one to follow her, I am sure of that. Please, you are avoiding the issue.'

'If I went with you... would there be a place for a companion? I would—'

'No,' said Sukui. 'Your prostitute will be safe in Orlyons. You have no need to worry. You will not be a prisoner in Alabama City, there will be occasions when you can return.'

Sukui stood and looked down at Mathias. 'You occupy much of my time. I must return.'

'Sukui-san. You win: I'll come. Will you tell Mono for me? Tell her I'll be back for her.'

'It is not a matter of victory,' said Sukui. 'I only serve the Lord Andric. You must stay here for now. I will make the necessary arrangements.'

'What about Lucilla?'

Sukui smiled and backed away. 'Forget about your past, Mister Hanrahan, and it will forget about you. I will take care of your Miz Ngota.' Sukui turned and walked rapidly away, along the rocky shoreline and out of Mathias's sight.

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