The Last City (34 page)

C
opernicus took stock of his team. The Wraith was missing in action, presumably dead. Shawe had collapsed to the ground. Silho sat hunched in one corner with her head resting against the wall, her arms and hands burned red and blistered. She’d set alight without making any dent whatsoever in Bellum’s strength. Diega appeared controlled, but he knew her too well to believe it. The closer Diega was to falling apart the less emotion she showed, and right now she was completely blank. She avoided looking at Jude, who stood, still handcuffed, on the other side of the room. His expression was calm, but in an unsettling way. Copernicus had seen it before in suicides. It was the serenity of a decision made.

Of all of them, Jude required his immediate attention. Copernicus decided not to sugarcoat it.

‘There is no point killing yourself to stop the Skreaf,’ he told the Ar Antarian.

Jude lifted his chin. SevenM glared at him from his perch on Jude's shoulder.

‘You see your barcode there?’ Copernicus indicated Jude’s neck.

Jude shrugged as though trying to cover it, but the cuffs kept his hands behind his back. He hesitated then answered, his voice desolate. ‘What about it?’

‘It reads 939994. The Androt missing from the Fortitude Hill crime scene had the barcode 939993. Do you know what that means?’

Jude’s expression shifted from consideration to confusion to shock and then dismay. ‘My brother . . .’

‘Half-brother,’ Copernicus corrected. ‘According to Eli, Kry is still alive, but the witches are hunting him as well. It’s obviously your family bloodline that they need for their plans, but if you kill yourself, they can still get to him. Do you see why it would be a pointless sacrifice? We need you – alive – to fight them.’ He paused for the words to sink in. ‘Do you understand?’

Jude lowered his head. Finally he nodded and said, ‘I understand.’

Copernicus unlocked his cuffs and the Ar Antarian flexed his metal hands. ‘I thought it was the only way.’ He met Copernicus’ eyes then looked away.

The commander could see that Jude was a good man, a brave man, searching for the right path, but he was also disturbed and displaced, unpredictable because he didn’t even know himself. He would need to be watched – closely.

Copernicus glanced at Diega. She shook her head and walked to one of the porthole windows to look out. She’d expected to save Jude from the Skreaf, not from himself. It was the sort of thing that was difficult not to take personally.

Copernicus went next to Silho. He crouched down beside her and took one of her arms in his hand. The limb had turned black, but as he touched it, the black came off onto his fingers like soot and he saw that underneath the skin had healed. Before he could comment on it, Silho whispered, ‘Commander, Bellum has one of the rings.’

Copernicus grabbed at the pocket where he’d stored the metal bands and found it empty. Nerves spiralled through his stomach.

‘How?’ he demanded.

Silho looked past him to where Shawe lay on the ground. Copernicus cursed. Shawe must have lifted them from him during their conversation at the church. He moved over to the gangster and booted him in the side. Shawe stirred. He wiped his mouth and looked up at Copernicus.

‘This can’t be Paradise,’ he groaned.

‘Far from it,’ Copernicus replied, barely containing his fury.

Shawe sat up and took his flask from his pocket. He put it to his lips, but Copernicus kicked it out of his hands. Shawe shot to his feet and shouted into Copernicus’ face.

‘What’s your problem?’

‘You stole the rings from me and lost one to the Skreaf.’

‘What?’ Diega rounded on them.

Jude pressed his hand over his eyes.

Shawe’s anger subsided and he gave a guilty sideways glance. ‘I took back what was mine. I thought I could keep them safe. The witch got into my head. I couldn’t stop myself.’ He slid the remaining ring out of his pocket. ‘She only got the one.’

‘Oh – well that’s alright then,’ Diega said mockingly.

‘Which one?’ Copernicus asked. ‘Original or fake?’

Shawe held the band up to his eyes. ‘I don’t know,’ he finally admitted.

‘How can you not know? They’re your trutting rings!’ Diega yelled, her colours flashing brilliantly.

‘Back off, sunshine,’ Shawe shouted back. ‘I had the second one made to be an exact replica.’

‘Give it to me,’ Copernicus ordered.

Shawe held back. ‘It’s all I have of Stacy.’

‘And it’s all you’ll ever have of him if we don’t stop the witches.’

The gangster reluctantly pressed the ring into Copernicus’ palm. ‘How are we going to do that?’ he asked, sinking down onto one of the crates.

‘We find the place where they’ve taken the Mazurus Machine. We go in and destroy it. It’s a temporary fix, but it’ll buy us time.’ He glanced at Silho. ‘Eli is working on a location now. We can call him once the hedge is up. Until then we stay low.’

‘I’m not waiting,’ Shawe disagreed. ‘I’m going back out there. There’s no point sitting here.’

‘He’s right – for once,’ Diega said. ‘We’re wasting time here.’

Jude gave a hollow laugh. ‘You two really have no idea what we’re facing, do you?’

A heavy silence filled the room and everyone slipped into their own thoughts. Copernicus went to the table and checked the tech they’d set up to re-run the blocking hedge into his communicator. Its regeneration was almost halfway. He looked at his chronograph and saw that the device was melting, and the skin on his wrist had puffed out into welts. They extended up his arms in an angry red pattern. It was a reaction to the acid waters of the Asher.

‘Anyone else affected by the water?’ he asked the group.

Shawe shrugged and an arm fell off his jacket. Diega and Jude checked themselves. They’d also been dunked when Diega had crashed the craft into the river to escape the storm. A clump of Diega’s hair fell out in her hands. Her eyes widened.

‘Hit the showers again – now!’ he ordered the team.

Shawe dragged open the main faucet and the shower heads, embedded into the walls around the open bathing area, spluttered and sprayed out jets of water. It was cold and brownish, but at least fresher than the river swill. Everyone dispersed into different corners to undress. Jude went to stand close to Diega. She didn’t look at him, but she didn’t turn away either. Copernicus chose a spot along the same wall as Shawe. Shedding his clothes, he stepped under the shower jet and scrubbed at his skin, washing out the pollutants. He saw Silho in the reflection of the tap and paused. She was smaller and more fragile than he had first thought. Now he understood why the Wraith had said he feared for her life against Bellum. The witch was impossibly strong and she’d knocked down all of Silho’s defences with only a few words. It was clear to Copernicus that just teaching Silho the enchant was not enough. At this early stage of her learning, the magics would fade as soon as Silho’s focus failed. He needed to help her understand what got to her – where her emotional weaknesses lay and why.

While he was thinking, Shawe shuffled closer to him and grunted, ‘Not bad.’ He nodded to Silho.

Copernicus shot him a look of disgust. ‘We’re on the verge of annihilation and you think I’m checking her out? Are you really that stupid?’

‘Don’t get crazy,’ Shawe said. ‘I know what’s what. I’m just saying, she’s easy on the eye and I know exactly what type of girl you go for. If you remember, I was the one who dragged your scrawny, pitiful self into your very first grindhouse and paid up well for you to have an hour with a fine-looking girl, although, as I recall, you didn’t need anywhere near that time.’ Shawe grinned, flashing his crooked, stained teeth.

Copernicus glanced over his shoulder to see if the others had heard. Luckily, everyone was preoccupied with their own thoughts. He rubbed his face, trying to re-banish images of that unfortunate first encounter. Shawe stood watching him.

‘What do you want?’ he asked, assuming Shawe’s real reason for making conversation was not just to drag him down memory lane again.

‘What are the chances Stacy is still alive?’ The gangster’s tone turned to seriousness.

Copernicus thought there was no chance at all, but he said, ‘He has as good a chance as anyone.’

‘So you think he’s dead, then.’

‘I really don’t know,’ Copernicus replied.

‘It’s been over a week now,’ Shawe said. Deeply buried emotions surfaced in his expression, twisting his face in unrecognisable ways. ‘Why him? Why my little brother?’

‘Everyone who dies is something to someone,’ Copernicus said. ‘Even the people you’ve killed.’

Shawe glanced up sharply. ‘Don’t you remember how we grew up? Dad put a gun in my hand and told me to shoot or get shot. Maybe I still deserve to go to hell, but I raised Stacy differently. He’s never hurt anyone. He’s innocent. So why the trutt didn’t the witches take me and leave him? How is this fair?’

‘It’s not,’ Copernicus said, and his memory took him back through the year-cycles of his career, through year-cycles full of innocent dead and grief-stricken loved ones searching for meaning in the madness, searching for revenge, for peace, absolution, something, anything. There was a reason he’d grown so cold.

‘You have a far better chance of finding Stacy than he would have of finding you,’ he told Shawe.

‘And you think that’s the Great God’s way of trying to even out this life?’ Shawe asked in a low voice.

‘I think it’s just a fact,’ Copernicus replied. He stepped out of the water stream and went back into the other room where they’d left the boxes of clothes. They were badly creased and musty and some of the shirts smelt faintly of other people’s body odour, but the only other option was nudity – not exactly suitable for going into battle. He found some more trousers that fit and was still searching for an acceptable shirt when Shawe, Jude and SevenM entered the room. Shawe started rummaging through the clothes, dragging on shirts that ripped as soon as he bent his arms and flexed his muscles.

‘You’d better get in while there’s still something left in one piece,’ Copernicus commented to Jude, who stood staring at the piles of clothing.

The Ar Antarian turned his vivid blue eyes to Copernicus and said, ‘I’m the Crown Prince and my mother was an Androt slave.’ He gulped and blinked rapidly as though he couldn’t believe he’d just said it aloud. Copernicus understood Jude needed to have this conversation.

‘You are whoever you want to be,’ the commander replied.

‘What I am is both Ar Antarian and machine-breed, but I can’t be both.’

‘Why not?’ Copernicus challenged him. ‘Because that’s what other people believe? I’ve always known you to think for yourself, to think logically and deeply and form your own opinions. That’s one of the reasons why I recruited you.’

‘Would you have dismissed me,’ Jude asked, ‘for lying to you about being the prince, if all this hadn’t happened?’

Copernicus considered the words then replied, ‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I also think for myself. Your race doesn’t change the way I see you. However, your honesty does. If you’re upfront with me from here on, then you’ll always have a place with the trackers – whatever happens.’

Jude’s eyes misted and he looked away. After a moment he cleared his throat. ‘I have a brother. I don’t even know my own family.’

Copernicus thought of the scars on his own body and mind and said, ‘Sometimes that’s not such a bad thing.’

Jude lowered his head. ‘I know.’

‘Come on.’ Shawe walked past them and slapped Jude on the shoulder. ‘Cheer up, Your Highness. Who do you think you’re with – a bunch of nobles or something? I’m gutter-born, your girl’s a fairy-breed, Kane’s as strange as they come and that one,’ he nodded at Silho as she emerged from the bathing room, ‘you don’t even want to know.’

Jude stared at Silho’s bloodline marks as she grabbed up some clothes and disappeared into the adjoining bunk room. Copernicus noticed she had a freely bleeding wound on her back.

Jude shook his head, perplexed. ‘I don’t recognise Silho’s marks.’

‘Shawe will explain,’ Copernicus said, temporarily abandoning his search for a shirt. ‘I have to dress her wound.’

‘Sure you do,’ the gangster said and lifted his eyebrows in a quick up-and-down suggestion.

‘Diega, come with me,’ Copernicus said, and the Fen walked over to join them.

‘The more the merrier,’ Shawe said, finally finding a shirt that fitted.

E
li hit the ground with a jarring thud. He rolled over, groaning, as the tangled vines above him slithered fast, closing off where he’d crashed through. The twisting creepers formed a low ceiling across the land, lit only by glowing cabbage-shaped plants that drooped from the vines.

The rash stupidity of his mission struck Eli hard. He’d left the transflyer, and, with great anxiety, Nelly, several levels higher and fought his way down to Venus, the very lowest level of Scorpia, knowing only that the lily grew here
somewhere
.

He forced himself to stand and survey his surrounds. Everywhere plants lay shrivelled and dying. The sight sent a chill shivering through him. Something slithered beside his foot and Eli scrambled back. Just ahead of him, one of the plants was changing from withered brown to bright yellow-green. It thickened, strained, and heaved up its huge, bulbous head. Spikes curved around its mouth, which opened wide, revealing a mucousy, off-yellow interior. The giant pod plunged a tentacle-like vine into the ground and pumped blue fluid into the dirt – chemical communication. Eli watched with fascination as colour spread rapidly through the garden as other pods and plants awoke.

One of the pods, Eli noticed, was a darker green. Suddenly something moved inside it, pushing and struggling. The shape of a screaming face pressed against its fleshy side. Eli gasped. The pod was digesting something – alive. Eli rushed to the huge plant and tried to wrench its mouth-spines apart. He punched and kicked it. He threw himself at it and, finally, he drew his blade and stabbed it. The pod gave a terrible whistling screech as fluid gushed from the wound. A flora-breed with a pink face and yellow petal hair pushed out through the gore, gasping and stretching for the light. The pod raised its needle-vine to strike. Eli severed it, and the plant gave a final shriek, then shrivelled back to brown.

From the silence came the swish of leaves.

Eli looked up and the breath caught in his throat. All around the garden, drooling pods were closing in on him with lurching, rocking steps. Before he could run, sinewy vines whipped out from all angles to wrap around him. He tried to hack them back, but they kept coming. The largest of the pods dragged him, struggling, towards its gaping mouth. Eli stared into the foul orifice and saw what looked like a child wrapped in a membranous sack. He strained back, kicking the pod in the face as it snapped at him.

A loud cracking sound reverberated through the air.

The tentacles instantly recoiled, dumping Eli on the ground where he lay panting. The flora-breed he’d saved peeked out at him from behind a huge mushroom. She extended a hand to him, but before he could take it, a thinner, sticky vine shot out and re-bound Eli’s arms to his sides. It drained his strength until he could barely move. He dropped his blade as the vine yanked him up.

A group of spindly, long-armed figures now surrounded him. Thick moss covered their skin and nutrient-sapping vines grew out of their bodies like extra limbs. Eli had seen pictures of them before. They were Droso Mossmen – the most bloodthirsty of the plant-breeds. Eli inwardly cursed.

‘Please listen . . .’ he began and the Mossmen reared back, their eyes bulging, gleaming with a violet light.

They spoke to each other rapidly in Drosish, a language that sounded like forest noises. One released a cyclonic howl, revealing pieces of plant and animal flesh caught in its snaggle of barbed-wire teeth. Eli groaned as the vines constricted tighter around him. The Mossmen turned abruptly and dragged him away.

With each step the Mossmen took their feet meshed with the ground, soaking up sustenance. Eli tried to mark a mental map as they forced him through Venus to a clearing. There, a mass of savage plant-breeds surrounded him. They ripped off his weapon belt and emptied his pockets. When he tried again to reason with them, a creepy cackle rang out from somewhere behind them. Eli turned to look into the devious face of the tallest Droso there. He leered, with one sneaky purple eye stretched larger than the other. Strands of leaf hair hung down his back, and a crown of golden flowers grew out of his head. He spoke in Urigin with a high lisping plant-breed accent, his words dripping sarcasm.

‘Look at our special guest. What an unexpected honour for us lowly beings.’

The gathered Mossmen erupted into laughter that sounded like boots crunching on dry leaves. One stepped to their leader’s side and whispered something. The leader’s eyes darkened and he stalked towards Eli. The moss skin of his face slid upwards, exposing a slimy skull-like face underneath.

He hissed with rotting breath, ‘You dare to violate a Bearer.’

‘A Bearer?’ Eli stuttered, then remembered the child he’d seen inside the pod – a baby Droso. Terror sunk through him.

‘Never mind.’ The Mossman’s unstable leader calmed as quickly as he’d angered. ‘I, Loki, governor of the Droso Mossmen, will make you pay the price . . . but slowly, so slowly.’ Eli shrank back and the plant-breeds laughed in cruel anticipation. ‘But first,’ Loki raised a spindly finger, ‘the test of mind.’

Eli almost cried with relief. They weren’t going to rip him apart on the spot. They were going to follow plant-breed custom and give him a chance to redeem his life.

Loki’s eyes swivelled, then brightened. He sniggered, rubbing his hands together.

‘Listen carefully, dimbulb,’ he said to Eli, ‘this is your clue. Our kind is solitary and jealous, and we will punish those who forsake us for another. What are we? You can answer only once and when you get it wrong, you will die – slowly.’

‘And when I answer correctly you have to free me,’ Eli said.

‘But of course,’ Loki simpered, then ordered, ‘Take him to the Tree, for ten clicks only – beginning . . . now!’

He pointed to a large plant beside them. Nailed to it was a strange wooden chronograph with only one hand that began spinning madly. Eli’s eyes widened. Beside the chronograph grew a violet and pink Venus Lily.

The Mossmen herded Eli to a giant hollowed-out tree. They forced him through the trunk to a chamber cut in the earth beneath it. A glowing cabbage-bulb hung from the ceiling. Vines sealed over the entrance and Eli’s bonds unravelled and slid away. He gasped as his strength returned in a rush. Immediately, he started pacing, frantically thinking about the clue. As he neared the opposite wall, a terrible face pushed out of the dirt. Eli screamed, but then he recognised Luther and his hopes leapt high.

‘Please stay! I really need your help!’ he said, his words tripping over each other. ‘I need to know if the Droso’s governor is talking about the answer to the riddle. Can you go and see?’

Luther vanished. After what felt like year-cycles instead of seconds, he reappeared. He pointed a thin, scarred arm to the ceiling. Eli looked up at the shining plant bulb.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

Luther opened his mouth, but no sounds came out.

‘Scratch it!’ Eli said. ‘In the ground.’

Using one long claw, Luther wrote a word in the dirt floor.

‘Canderlight.’ Eli sounded out. His eyes widened. ‘Canderlight!’ He had studied this light-emitting plant. It lived forever unless it was exposed to any other light. If it was, it flared for a few moments of brilliance before dying.

‘It fits the clue!’ Eli clapped his hands together, then his excitement plummeted. There was no way Loki was letting him go – correct answer or not.

‘What am I going to do?’

Luther pointed up to the plant.

‘Canderlight, I know,’ Eli said. ‘But how am I going to get out of here?’

Luther pointed again, more insistently, and Eli gazed up.

‘Canderlight,’ he dragged out the word, his mind spinning triple speed. An idea struck him. ‘Luther, you’re a genius.’ He could use the clue against them. If he could expose the Canderlight vine to another light source, he could blind the Droso and escape.

Eli wildly searched his pockets for a lighter and found nothing. The Droso had taken everything.

Before he could think further, slapping footsteps approached. The brown vines slid back, revealing his glaring captors. Their tentacles wrapped around him and they dragged him back to Loki, who stood sneering with haughty self-assurance.

He and the others jeered for a long time before he finally said, ‘Poor dullard, obviously my riddle was a little too difficult for your teensy-weensy mind.’

‘Canderlight,’ Eli said.

The crunching laughter instantly silenced.

It took a moment for the Droso leader to register the significance, then his expression soured. The moss skin of his face slid up.

‘Evil mind-reader,’ he growled. ‘Evil deceiver.’

The other Mossmen howled and hissed. They closed in, gleaming purple eyes turning black, barbed-wire teeth gnashing.

‘Wait!’ Eli yelled desperately. He noticed his communicator lying on the ground and a thought came to him. ‘I’m not a mind reader, but I have a device that does read minds. It’s right there. I’ll give it to you.’ He nodded to the communicator.

Loki glared at him with distrust. His lips quivered, then his greed won out. He grabbed up the communicator and the machine’s security system kicked in. It registered a stranger’s touch and shut down.

‘Just take off that bit,’ Eli said nodding to the locator, which he’d need to track Ev’r. ‘That makes the machine work only for me.’

Loki ripped off the locator component and dumped it on the ground with the weapon belt.

‘Now just pull back that panel there and drag out a blue wire.’

Loki ripped eagerly at the system. The red security light flared. It sensed an intruder in its internals and initialised self-destruction. Eli shot a glance at the chronograph and lily, judging the distance from him to them.

Loki stared at the smoking machine. ‘Broken! You lied to me,’ he hissed. ‘Kill him!’

‘Luther, shut your eyes!’ Eli yelled, seeing flames flickering inside the communicator.

He closed his own eyes as the Droso rushed him. He cringed, expecting to feel their wiry hands and vicious teeth. It didn’t happen. Instead, a bright light flashed beside him as the communicator exploded. All movement paused. The Mossmen gasped. Then, as the Canderlight bulbs became aware of the light, they flared. Even behind closed lids, Eli felt his eyes burn. The Mossmen were screaming and screeching. The vines around Eli loosened and dropped away. After a few seconds of brilliance the Canderlights died, leaving absolute blackness and utter chaos.

The Mossmen howled and ran in all direction, paying no attention to Loki’s shrieked orders. Eli lunged for his weapon belt and locator, then flew upwards, arms outstretched in the darkness. He thudded against the chronograph and patted around it until his fingers found the waxy petals of the Venus Lily. He plucked the flower and flew backwards, landing some way from the screaming Droso. A cold hand closed over his arm and he yelped, ‘Luther, is that you?’

He took the silence to mean yes and followed as the grip led him stumbling through the writhing garden. Finally a glow appeared ahead of them, a shimmer of light beaming through a split in a huge flower stem. The yellow petal-haired flora-breed he’d saved stood beside it. She had been leading Luther through the dark. She gestured for them to pass through the stalk. Luther vanished into the shadows and Eli headed after him. He paused to say goodbye to the flora-breed. She bent down and kissed him passionately on the mouth, leaving yellow pollen dust all over his face. Eli tripped through the centre of the stem, feeling warm all over, and found Luther lay collapsed on the other side, barely breathing.