Off Center (The Lament) (15 page)

"Pine
first. Apple really isn't that good for instruments. It makes nice boxes, if you
treat it right. Not that I have the right lacquers, but one thing at a time."
It took longer to set all the wood inside than it had to play the songs that earned
it, and it was late when they were finished. Roy looked tired and she was starting
to feel it herself.

The
drugs were wearing off, finally. Still, she made herself wash first, and scrubbed
until she was certain nothing was left of the make-up. Then she did it again. Greasepaint
worked because it didn't just come off every time you accidently rubbed at it. The
cost of that was how hard it was to remove on the other side of the performance.

Then
she and Roy went to bed, walking in at the same time. It was dark in the room, so
she didn't see anything, but she heard what sounded like the boy getting into bed.

He
muttered at her, stifling a yawn.

"G'night,
Pran."

"Good
night, Roy."

Then
her head hit the pillow and darkness rolled over her. It was relaxing and she slept
until there was a knock at the door. It wasn't a pounding at all, just a gentle
tap. She figured that it would be Paul, coming to get her for that afternoon wood
working, and it was him, but that wasn't his goal at all. He actually wanted to
make sure the Roy was up in time for his shift.

"It
was a late night, but engineering needs to be manned in case we have to leave."
He had a bit of a wicked gleam in his eye as Roy got up, without complaint.

"I'm
up. Be right in. How late is it?" It was hard to tell, in their room. There
was no light from outside.

Paul
cleared his throat.

"Why,
nearly seven, you gadabouts. It's almost as if you plan to sleep the whole day away!"
Pran stood up herself, and stretched.

"I'm
up too. I'll..." She didn't know where she was supposed to be, but had an idea.
She wanted the new man to think she was good at getting things done, didn't she?
Useful? She nodded at Roy. "I'll be acting as nurse for Will Butcher, if he's
still alive. Send that new fellow Zeke by after a time so that I can set up the
laundry detail with him? If it's not raining, I mean." If it was icing over,
they'd be in the air, and that would mean that Roy would have been working already,
even if it was the middle of the night.

He
didn't think that sounded odd, and nodded, but didn't answer.

The
First Mate shook his head.

"You
know, when I was a boy and had a late night, the Second mate would wake me by throwing
the shutters up and banging on a metal bin, screaming 'Get yer lazy bones up!' Even
with that, it took me half an hour to have things ready so I could stand. You two
are making me look bad." He stepped back and cleared his throat. "Keep
it up."

Then
they had to race around for a while, to get caught up on things, being a little
over an hour late already. No one screamed at them about it,
or
came to make
her stand watch on the Judge's chambers. Doctor Millis wasn't in the sick room,
so she did what he'd told her about the day before. Nearly two days before now,
and mainly just let the sick and injured man sleep for a while. Hours later, about
ten in the morning, Zeke found her, poking his head in shyly. The Doctor was right
behind him, looking rested enough and tidy.

So
no covering their secret plans yet, it seemed.

She
smiled, since that was fine with her, for the moment.

"Good,
everyone is here! I'll go and get some food for you Doctor Millis. Can Will eat
anything yet? He's stirred some, but not spoken. He did take some water about an
hour ago."

The
old man seemed to be thinking about things for a bit, and then looked at her and
oddly, Ezekiel, then he spoke without sounding out of place at all.

"I'd
love two eggs and some toast, if that isn't a bother dear? Some coffee might be
in order as well? As for Will, well, he's recovering. Physically. I think the trauma
of things has him feeling less inclined to talk at all. Perhaps you could tell him
the story about how you fought that group of attackers last week? That would entertain
him. A single young girl braving the wilderness in a storm, protecting us all from
fifteen strangers from a long forgotten world." For the first time since she'd
met the man, the Doc seemed to be saying something in a coded fashion. The man let
his eyes dart a bit, toward the new hand.

It
wasn't to her either, if she had it right, but to Zeke.

There
wasn't a lot she could do about the idea. She knew that before Doc Millis even stopped
speaking, his eyes searching the strange military man that was hiding on their ship
as a normal hand. He looked regular enough, to Pran, but the Doctor seemed to know
what was happening, at least on some level. After a few minutes of letting everyone
speak for a bit, she
heard
it. There... deep in the doctor's voice.

It
was in the tone of what he said, as much as the words. Maybe more than anything
else. It was that part of him that she always found fussy and particular. It wasn't
an accent, which would have been easier to pick up. No, it was that he was hiding
one. It made him sound a little bit like Zeke did as he mumbled and tried to hide
his own. That she hadn't noticed it before was amazing.

Except,
naturally, she
had
. She'd thought about it every time she met with the Doc,
practically. It was just her assessment of what it meant that was wrong.

Pran
smiled, making sure she looked at Will, who still seemed pretty ill, all things
considered. At least as bad as he had been the other day when she'd first found
him. He might be faking, but if so, he was an actor that had abilities she needed
to learn. He was covered in sweat, with new beads occasionally popping up on his
forehead. That had to be hard to fake. She knew it was, since no one had ever taught
her the trick in school. It would have come up.

She
tried for a considering tone.

"Zeke
here and I are going to set up a laundry station outside. We'll have to hang the
clothing up in here, in the room for it, but..." She didn't want to be lazy,
but she shook her head, and thought about it for a few seconds. It made as much
sense to do that as anything, even if it meant more walking by the end of the day.
"We need to collect things from everyone. As long as it isn't raining. Even
light snow wouldn't be that bad."

Pran
was almost certain that the Doctor was some kind of spy now, but he still acted
like everyone else, seeming pleased and running to get a basket of soiled clothing
fast enough that she was still speaking as he left. She covered her worry by smiling
at the techno-whatever he was next to her.

"You
can't spend too much time here, or with the Doctor. It will seem strange. You can
do clothing deliveries for him, and help bring the meals. Be careful there. I think
he's on our side, the Doctor, but feel him out. He's smart enough that he could
be faking it, to try and draw out a potential enemy. They don't let stupid people
go into medicine." It had to be true, didn't it?

Waiting
for a moment, the thirty-odd year old man grunted lightly and shook his head.

"There
are signals. I'll drop a few things about the web and see if that get's a response.
For now... Well, Will here doesn't seem to be up to traveling, does he? Can you
get him out, do you think? We'll need a wagon or something. I don't even know if
he can ride a horse." The way he was looking at the man was telling, since
he seemed to be thinking about killing him, so that he couldn't speak.

A
horrible thought occurred to her then. What if Doc Millis had done the same? Making
the man sick, so that he couldn't be found out? She had no proof of that, and no
matter what, she liked the older man and didn't want to think ill of him. Everyone
did things that were wrong, every now and again. They lied, or backed the wrong
side in a fight. That wasn't the same as being a killer. Even then, sometimes you
had to do that, in order to survive. She understood things like that.

Plus,
even if he was one of the techno-people, maybe the Doctor just didn't like those
that abused children? Or it
could
have just been food poisoning, or the result
of the man's wounds. The town's people had beaten him pretty hard, and most of them
probably wouldn't have thought twice about someone having a bit of extra technological
stuff hidden away. If they knew at all.

Pran
shook her head.

"Not
right now. I'll try to arrange something. Talk to the Doc and see if he knows anything,
the signals and all that. I don't, so it never occurred to me to try. If so, you
might want to let him know that we're trying to get Will out. Whatever you do, don't
try and take The Lament's wagon. The Guardians will be on us before..." She
looked up and noticed that the old man was back, holding a large wicker basket.
It wasn't stuffed full, thankfully, but it did have a tag on it, with his name.
That was a good idea, she realized, especially if they were going to end up with
everyone's things, like she feared. It would be near twenty people, if they got
everyone's laundry.

Pran
moved toward the man who had a schooled and blank look on his face, clearly having
just heard them speaking. Before she could even think of a plausible denial, Zeke
smiled and looked away.

"We
were... Talking about leaving together. She's a bit too young for me, but it's tempting.
What do you think? I remember things like that from the web, as a child. People
on the net doing things like that, in stories." The last line was a bit strained,
but the Doctor nodded.

"Ah,
yes. That and television. I can't recommend leaving with Bard Pran however. If you
did that, too many would search her out." He smiled, and walked slowly to the
door of the room, pushing it shut. "Now, what's really going on here? I'm almost
certain that she isn't one of us. If anything, she's a spy for the locals. She's
never responded to any of the hints that myself or the others dropped at least."

Then,
as if it weren't sinister at all, he started to dig through the wooden cupboard
behind him, along the far wall, and started to make up a syringe or something clear.
It was a large looking needle too, being made of silver metal and glass. He tapped
the side of it and pushed all the air out, then a bit of the liquid.

"Hold
her please, if you will?" He smiled and closed with her as Zeke grabbed her
arms from behind. She was tempted to struggle, since it would probably kill her,
but that isn't what someone on their side would do, was it? She looked at him curiously
and fixed the old man's slightly watery looking eyes directly. It got him to stop.
That or her lack of panic did.

 "Think,
Doctor Millis. A single girl with no training, sent off into the woods alone, and
not only facing, but defeating fifteen armed adults with metal carriages? Does that
seem right to you? Reasonable? What do you think that means? You know that I'm really
a Bard too, and that no Guardian would be able to play like I can, or sing as well.
Not at my age." She waited as if he was supposed to figure it out on his own,
but the man just smiled at her and stabbed the needle into her right shoulder, after
pulling her tunic neck to the side.

"That
has
occurred to me. The problem is that you
aren't
one of us. I'm
fairly comfortable with that. So if you really did all that, you simply cannot be
what you seem, can you? A true Apprentice Guardian might pull off part of that,
fighting those techs out in the woods alone. But they wouldn't be half as good as
you with artistry, as you mentioned." He turned to the man holding her still,
and addressed him as if she weren't there. It was a bit rude, really. "She
really is quite amazing. If we'd simply picked her up to take her to be the new
apprentice of the Bard High Councilor, I would have bought it. Even as a ship's
hand, I might have understood the idea. She's a
very
hard worker and never
complains. What I can't buy is that one girl has done
all
of this. I'm going
to find out why that is Pran. In fact, very soon, you're going to tell me all about
it."

Behind
her Zeke loosened his grip a bit, and held her to him, as the room tilted.

"What
did you give her? Some kind of knock-out shot?" His words seemed really far
away, and echoed a little bit, but she could still make them out, even as the room
tilted again.

"Not
precisely. It's a compound that I've been formulating for some centuries. In the
simulation, of course, but it works decently. It will help her to relax and feel
free to speak, even under duress. We might want to help her sit on the other cot
however. Be a good girl and go sit down, Pran. We're all friends here."

The
men both helped her do it, and didn't speak until after she was sitting with her
back against the wall, surrounded by pillows. Doctor Millis put them in place. It
was done almost lovingly, and he patted her left arm gently when he was done. She
couldn't fall over, she didn't think. Not that she wanted to. She actually felt
pretty good and didn't want to move more than she had to, in case that might cause
her to lose it.

"I
could get to like drugs." She said it out loud, but the Doctor gave her a stern
look and seemed to disapprove, even though he was the one that had given them to
her.

"Be
careful there Pran. Chemicals have their uses, but shouldn't be a crutch through
life, just an aid when you need them. Now, I never asked directly, but is Pran your
real name? It's pretty, but a bit unusual."

She
let herself smile back at him, knowing that it was just a grin, since she didn't
move enough for anything else.

"That's
my name. Just Pran. No family, no friends. Except for you, and the people here.
Bard Sollen." Her words were a tiny bit giddy sounding, and loopy, but just
flowed out, even after she remembered that she didn't want to tell them everything.
She tried to think of a clever lie, to fool the men, but nothing came at all. Whatever
they'd given her was working really well, wasn't it?

Doctor
Millis nodded, encouraging her, or so it seemed. Zeke just seemed to be hanging
back, letting the other man do the talking. He seemed worried. There was no reason
for that though, was there?

"Everything
is fine." She spoke the words out loud again. That was going to be a problem,
if she wasn't careful. If she couldn't control what she said, she was probably going
to end up getting "sick" and dying there, wasn't she? Even a bit out of
it she got that the Doctor could make that happen without hardly trying.

She
tried to focus and go into a trance, Like Mara and Clark had taught her. It might
have even worked if she'd had more than a week's worth of practice. That was suddenly
very clear to her as the old man spoke again, sounding very sweet and kind still.

Just
like always.

"Are
you really an orphan too, Pran?"

"Yep.
Pran of the Grange. Fucking hellhole." She muttered that, but the two men looked
at each other and Zeke swallowed hard.

Millis
actually looked upset for a moment.

"The
Grange? I've heard of that. It isn't a very nice place, is it? Most of the Doctors
refuse to work there at all, fearing what they'll find. Was it as bad as all that?
I've never been there." The words came out sounding conversational, and Pran
didn't really get it. After all, why would the men care about
that
? The question
sent her back to the place in her head, which wasn't fun, and years of practice
pushed her back away from it. She still spoke, but her words were hedged, and a
bit sour sounding.

"It's
worse than that. Everyone there has been raped, some hundreds of times. You fight
for food, for your bed, or you end up being used and starved. The Keepers, they
don't care. Evil, evil people. The government
lets
it happen. Don't know
why." She half glared at the Doctor, expecting him to pull away or call her
a liar. They'd always been told that if they said anything like she just had, no
one would believe them, being just orphans. The trash that had been thrown away
by the world.

The
man surprised her, turning to Zeke and explaining.

"The
Grange is where the children of the insane are sent. The idea is that they can be
watched for signs of mental illness and weeded out at a young age. Almost no one
leaves the place. How did that happen for you, Pran?" He seemed curious, and
that was nice of him, considering that he hadn't said she was a liar. She hadn't
known about the first part. The crazy parents and all that, but it made so much
sense, once the words were spoken.

"I
don't know. We were given tests, when we were eight, the ones that would take them,
and spent a long time talking to a woman that came to see if we were smart or dumb.
One day the Keepers came and pulled me out of the dining room. I thought I was to
be beaten or thrown in the pit, for stabbing Wald, but they sent me away in a wagon
with a man. He didn't even rape me, just dropped me off at the art school."
Her words were sing-song by the end and sounded really young, even to her slightly
impaired ears. That thought got her to smile again. "Then I fought, in a different
way, to make sure I could stay. School was... Perfect. Wonderful. I always had food
and no one took it. The boys were nice and didn't put anything in my butt and the
girls didn't stick my head in the toilet, until I nearly died. Even the teachers
liked me, since I worked hard. Until the end, when they sent me away." That
was a bad thing. She hated them for it, even if it had been her fault.