The usual jugs of water, stack of paper cups, and jumble of plastic cutlery were in the centre of the table. Phoenix picked up one of the jugs, and poured out cups of water. She put one in front of Tad, but he didn’t seem to notice. He had his head turned away from her, staring at the cooking fire.
“That fire is built in a marble depression next to the wall,” he said. “Was it originally an ornamental pool?”
“Maybe,” said Luther.
Tad seemed upset about something. “You’ve clearly added the chimney. It seems to be made of metal circles stacked on top of each other. Am I right that those metal circles were portals?”
I grabbed a plastic fork from the centre of the table, and stabbed a piece of baked wintereat root. “Yes, the chimney is made of portals welded together. It sends the cooking fire smoke into a blocked-off stairwell at the back of the room and up to the roof. Having that stairwell blocked off is a bit inconvenient, because it means we can’t access the upper central floors from Reception, but it was the only way to deal with the smoke problem. Anyway, we can still reach those upper floors from each wing of the building.”
“But …” Tad waved both hands in a despairing gesture. “You destroyed the portals!”
I took a full minute to savour my first mouthful of food before replying. “There are plenty more if we need them. New York is full of useless, dead portals.”
Tad sighed, and finally noticed the cup of water that had appeared in front of him. He picked it up and stared suspiciously into it.
I saved time by answering the inevitable question before he asked it. “We filter and boil all the drinking water. It’s perfectly safe.”
Tad nodded and took a cautious sip. “Where do you get the paper cups and plates?”
“There are whole warehouses full of them,” said Luther. “Everything edible rotted away years ago, but we’ve got enough paper cups to last us centuries.”
“But why not use real glasses?” asked Tad. “Surely there are warehouses full of those too?”
I was irritated by his tone of voice. “Because someone would have to wash real glasses, and we’re short of hot water, but more importantly because people could break real glasses and use them as weapons in a fight.”
“That must be why you have plastic cutlery as well.” Tad finally turned his attention from our cooking arrangements to the food on his plate. “What is this meat?”
“It’s not human meat if that’s what you’re worried about,” said Julien. “When someone suggested eating you three earlier, it was a joke.” He thought about that for a moment. “Probably a joke, but it’s true that everyone is very hungry.”
I saw Phoenix’s hands tense in fear. “The green stuff is wintereat,” I said hastily, “and the meat is a mixture of goose and duck.”
“Phoenix is a vegetarian,” said Tad. “Do you have any cheese or …?”
“Shut up!” snapped Phoenix.
Tad gave her a look of sheer, open-mouthed, disbelief.
“We’re not on Adonis now, Tad,” said Phoenix, in a savage voice. “Stop annoying these people with your questions, and stop asking them for things they haven’t got. They don’t have doctors. They don’t have food grown in vats. They don’t have livestock, or milk, or cheese. They can’t have many crops in the middle of winter. In fact, they barely have any food at all, so you will shut up while we gratefully eat whatever they’ve generously given us.”
She dug a fork into a piece of goose and pointedly ate it. Braden had given her a single, startled glance when she first told Tad to shut up, and then kept his eyes firmly on his plate during the rest of her outburst. I’d still been adjusting to the fact that Braden wasn’t the leader of these three. Now his eagerness to stay out of their argument made it clear that he wasn’t even second-in-command.
There was a short silence before Tad spoke again. “Am I really that bad?”
“Totally insufferable,” said Phoenix. “You’ve a horribly superior way of asking questions that implies nobody else knows anything. Like the paper cups. Did you really think these people hadn’t thought of using real glasses?”
There was a mixture of apology and defensiveness in Tad’s voice now. “You’ve never complained before.”
“I knew it wasn’t your fault. You’ve had everyone grovelling to do your bidding since the day you were born because …” Phoenix broke off her sentence, and gave a wary look around the table. “Anyway, I had to put up with you being annoying on Adonis, but you can’t behave like that here. You can stop doing my talking for me as well. If I wanted to mention being a vegetarian, I could have said it myself, but you decided to say it for me. You do that sort of thing all the time.”
She turned to Braden. “Don’t you agree?”
Braden gave Tad a panicky look.
“You can speak freely,” said Tad.
Braden evidently didn’t want to speak freely, because he took refuge in drinking from his cup of water instead.
Tad frowned. “Phoenix, you must tell me if I’m being annoying in future.”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” she said.
There was dead silence while we continued eating. I noticed Luther was staring at Phoenix with an odd expression on his face. I couldn’t work out whether he was attracted by her strikingly long, blonde hair, or appalled by the way she’d ranted at Tad. Julien had noticed Luther’s interest in Phoenix too, and elbowed Aaron to draw his attention to it.
Aaron just gave a grunt in response. I’d witnessed Aaron’s helpless agony as he sat by his wife’s side and watched her die, and it was obvious from his look of grim depression that he was thinking of her now. I saw him cast a wistful glance at where brightly coloured blankets covered an area of floor next to the Resistance tables. The crèche ran there from dawn until late evening, and Aaron’s daughter was among a group of toddlers playing with a heap of multi-coloured toys. I’d have been there tonight myself, taking my turn on evening crèche duty, if Donnell hadn’t put me in charge of the off-worlders.
We finished our meal. I was standing up, collecting the dirty plates and cutlery into a pile, when I heard the sharp soaring note of a violin from behind me. I instantly dropped the stack of plates back down onto the table, and turned to see Donnell stepping into the empty space by the cooking fire. He opened his mouth, and the violin went silent again to let his golden voice sing the first line alone.
“Some men were fickle and some left through greed.”
Everyone in the room turned to face him. I’d brought my bag along with me in case this turned out to be an entertainment evening. I pulled it out from under our table, and scrabbled hastily inside for the long thin flute case.
“Some fled through fear and some out of need,” sang Donnell.
From all around the room, a tide of small children came scurrying to sit on the floor in front of Donnell. I thrust the plates aside so I could perch on the edge of our table, and held my flute poised at my lips as he sang the third line.
“But we who remain will prove faithful indeed.”
The violinist stepped forward to stand next to Donnell, the downward sweep of his bow giving me my cue. My flute and a dozen other instruments took up the melody, while everyone else joined in singing the last line of the chorus.
“Earth is our heart, our home world!”
Donnell sang alone again for the verses, but everyone joined in for the choruses. I noticed Tad turning his head to look for the scattered musicians. During the third chorus, he shook his head and muttered.
“It’s incredible. The tension in this room was so strong you could have cut it with a knife, but now …”
Luther laughed. “That’s the legendary Sean Donnelly for you. The Earth Loyalist Party recruited him when he was only fourteen. They thought they were getting an innocent boy singer with a passionate love for Earth. They rapidly discovered that Donnell had his wild side, but the passionate love for Earth was real. Donnell became the image of the Earth Loyalist Party, grabbing t
he hearts of everyone who heard him sing.”
He paused. “My father always claimed it was Donnell’s looks, voice, and songs that delayed the opening of Beta sector for five years. My father was Donnell’s best friend though, so he might have been exaggerating his influence.”
“No, he wasn’t exaggerating at all,” said Tad. “Back home on Adonis, people both hate and admire Sean Donnelly for what he did. Of course, the delay in opening Beta sector for colonization didn’t harm our worlds in Alpha sector. I expect there’s far more hatred than admiration in the star systems of Beta and Gamma sectors.”
After the final chorus, Donnell waved an arm to beckon another singer forward, and then strolled over to stand between me and Phoenix. He spoke in a low voice, and I stopped playing my flute to concentrate on his words.
“Phoenix, this is where I touch your hair for the benefit of all the nosy people watching us. All right?”
She nodded in response, and Donnell caught a strand of her hair, casually twisting it round his right forefinger.
“That song you sang was the Earth Loyalist Party’s Anthem to Earth,” said Tad. “Is it true you wrote it yourself?”
“It’s true that I stole a centuries-old Irish tune, one almost forgotten since the imposition of an official common Language, and created some mangled new lyrics for it.”
“They still sing it on Adonis,” said Tad, “but they’ve changed the words a bit.”
Donnell laughed. “They’d have to in the circumstances.”
The current song ended. Donnell glanced round to watch the next change of singers, and then faced us again. “You three off-worlders will have to learn a lot of things very quickly if you want to stay alive here. The most important of those things is how much people resent you taking our food. We urgently need to show you’ll be working to contribute as well. Phoenix, you’ll go fishing with the women. They work in pairs, so I’ll partner you with Natsumi, the wife of one of my officers.”
“Thank you,” murmured Phoenix.
“Tad, the men usually go hunting with bows,” said Donnell, “but you shouldn’t be with us long enough to learn to hit a moving target with an arrow. It’ll be far more productive if you go fishing with the women, but partnering you with any other man’s wife or daughter could spark trouble, so I’ll send you with Blaze.”
Oh joy, I thought. Donnell was sending Tad fishing with me, so I could get him to talk. Get him to talk? The hard bit would be managing to say a word myself. I’d probably be deaf by the end of the first day!
Out of pure awkwardness, Tad picked this moment to just nod instead of saying anything.
“Braden, you’re a real problem,” continued Donnell. “The second you arrived, all the men took one look at your muscles and instantly started calculating their chances of beating you in a fight.”
Braden shook his head in bewilderment. “Why would they think I’d want to fight them? I’m a pacifist, I don’t believe violence is ever justifiable, so I’ve never done any combat sports. I just enjoy lifting weights at the gym.”
Braden spent time lifting weights for fun. That said a lot about how different life was on Adonis. People here in New York didn’t lift weights for fun; they were far too busy carrying heavy loads as part of the daily battle to stay alive.
“It wouldn’t matter what you wanted,” said Donnell. “They’d force you into a fight so they could build their status by beating you. Since you’re an off-worlder, there’s a danger they wouldn’t follow the alliance rule of stopping when you’re helpless on the ground. It could easily escalate into someone kicking you to death.”
I heard a faint squeak from Phoenix. Braden looked terrified.
“I’ll have to put you in my own hunting party and keep a personal eye on you,” said Donnell. “You won’t be any use with a bow, so you’ll have to help by retrieving arrows and birds. Is your leg well enough for that?”
Braden nodded eagerly.
Donnell finally dropped the strand of Phoenix’s hair. “We’ve survived the tricky moment of you three eating your first dinner in public without any trouble, but people are drinking our homebrewed whiskey now. Blaze had better get you safely back upstairs before anyone has time to get drunk.”
Donnell turned and walked off towards the fire, and the rest of us stood up. I noticed Tad was giving me a puzzled look. “Is something wrong?” I asked.
“I was just wondering why you keep your hair so short,” said Tad. “Most of the other women here seem to have long hair.”
Phoenix sighed. “It’s Blaze’s hair, Tad. She decides how long or how short she wants it, and she doesn’t have to explain those decisions to you.”
“Sorry,” said Tad.
I picked up one pile of dirty plates, while Braden picked up the other, and Phoenix collected the used paper cups. Tad gave them a confused look, belatedly seemed to think about helping to clear things away himself, and picked up the plastic jugs.
“The jugs stay on the table,” said Julien. “Some people like to water their whiskey. Chaos knows why.”
Tad hastily put the jugs down again. I led the three off-worlders to the nearest waste bin, and dumped my pile of plates into it. Braden copied me.
Over by the cooking fire, the singing had ended. Vijay and his husband, Weston, came forward to do one of their comedy routines.
“In 2206,” Vijay began, “Thaddeus Wallam-Crane invented the portal.”
All three off-worlders turned sharply to look at him, Phoenix still holding her stack of cups.
“That made him hugely respected by everyone on Earth,” continued Vijay, in an impressive imitation of Machico giving a school lesson.
“That made him hugely powerful,” said Weston.
Vijay turned to glare at him. “No talking in class!”
The gathered children all gurgled in delight, but I had a sad moment of mourning. Traditionally, the Vijay and Weston double act had always been followed by Kasim telling one of his ridiculous stories about his time as a Military Security agent. Perhaps I’d hear people repeat those stories one day, but it wouldn’t be the same as listening to Kasim. He hadn’t just told the stories, he’d played with words as he did it, using their variety, rhythm, and beauty to make his own sort of music.
“When people asked what he wanted for his hundredth birthday, Thaddeus Wallam-Crane decided he wanted a flying pig,” said Vijay solemnly. “Everyone was eager to please him because they respected him so much.”
“Because they were scared of him,” interjected Weston, shivering theatrically in fear.
“I told you, no talking in class!” Vijay snarled at him. “The problem was that there weren’t any flying pigs, but people didn’t want to disappoint Thaddeus Wallam-Crane because they respected him so much.”
“Because they were scared of him,” said Weston, doing his terrified act again.
Vijay gave him an exaggerated look of annoyance, took a cloth from his pocket, and tied it round Weston’s head, gagging him.
Vijay turned to face his audience of children again. “People decided to create a genetically modified flying pig because they respected Thaddeus Wallam-Crane so much.”
Weston made desperate muffled noises from behind his gag, and the children burst out laughing.
The three off-worlders seemed fascinated rather than amused by the act. I tapped Phoenix’s shoulder, pointed at the waste bin, and she hastily dropped the paper cups into it.
I led the way on towards the Resistance doorway, and hesitated when I saw Cage was blocking my way. I felt my usual instinctive panic at the sight of him, but told myself I was perfectly safe. Donnell and all six of his officers would be watching us.
Cage came to stand just a fraction too close to me for comfort, and gave me a friendly smile that made me even more nervous. “I hope you’ve been thinking about our conversation earlier, Blaze.”
I remembered Donnell’s instructions. I should give Cage the idea that Donnell was pressuring me to accept his offer. “
Donnell has spoken to me about it.”
Cage’s smile widened. “I’m pleased to hear that.” He abruptly turned and walked away.
“Wasn’t that the same man who made fun of my Adonis accent?” asked Tad.
“Yes,” I said. “That’s Cage of Manhattan division. You asked about my hair earlier. When I was eleven years old, I had long hair trailing past my shoulders, and Cage set it on fire. Now I keep my hair short so he can never do that again.”
I glanced back at the Resistance tables, saw Donnell was looking anxiously at me, and gave him a nod in response. His face relaxed, and he turned to look at where Aaron was collecting his daughter from the crèche. They walked towards him, Aaron holding Rebecca by the arm, and slowing his gait to match her short, uncertain steps.
As they reached Donnell, Rebecca held out a chubby, infant hand towards him in a demanding gesture. He laughed and leaned down to let her grab on to his finger. I felt an odd stab of pain, hastily turned my back on them, and led the off-worlders through the curtain into the safety of the Resistance wing.
Chapter Seven
When I went up to the roof to salute the Earth Resistance flag next morning, I found the snow under my feet was slushy. I frowned. The warmer weather would tempt the predators into coming out to hunt, and I’d be fishing with Tad instead of Hannah. I’d have to be careful the fool didn’t get me killed.
I scurried back inside to get the off-worlders and escort them down to breakfast. I found the three of them standing outside Tad’s door. They were already wearing outdoor clothing, and seemed to be deep in conversation. I caught the end of a sentence from Phoenix, her voice heavy with sarcasm.
“ … and remember how well that worked out.”
At that point, she noticed me, pulled a face at the other two, and fell silent. All three off-worlders turned to look expectantly at me.
“Breakfast,” I said, in what I hoped was a cheerful, pleasant voice. I knew I’d made a complete mess of things last night, snapping at Tad instead of being friendly to him. I was determined to do better today.