Chapter 6
A fist of cold water struck him in the face, and he gasped, cursed, rose to his feet, and then stood and peered about in the darkness, for the night lay heavy on the world, and the stars had disappeared. He wiped water off his face, blinked, and narrowed his eyes, trying to catch any hint of light in the surrounding gloom.
“Awake at last,” said a familiar voice. “Your sleep was heavier than your body.”
“Caerlion.” Memories flooded back, images, a flashing trident, carved snakes drinking blood, a gun, a blast, fingers like stone in his throat. He raised his fists and whipped around, looking for a target.
“Don’t bother, rigger, I can see you, but you can’t see me, not in this place. You’ve lived all your life in that comfortable, well-lit box with wings. I was born out here, in the darkness, in the silence.”
It hurt when he spoke, and his words came out like rough stones grinding together. “Caerlion, if I wanted your life story, I’d…” He frowned. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you talking like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like a normal person.”
Caerlion chuckled. “It’s dark, and we’re all alone.”
A chill settled on Flint. “Diana.”
“Hmm. Safe, Flint, for now. Her future state depends very much on you.”
Flint cursed at him. “This is beyond a joke, Caerlion. What have you done to her? What about Blacksnake’s friends? Did you… You haven’t…”
“Perhaps I killed them all for sport.”
Flint squeezed his eyes shut, and put his face in his hands. His head began to hurt, an ache that started at his swollen right temple, and ran deep inside his skull. “No. No, you can’t have.”
Caerlion laughed again. “We have this chance, let’s not waste it on those savages.”
“They’re not-”
Caerlion’s voice rose. “They’re whatever I say they are, rigger. Until the sun rises and makes us equals, weapons notwithstanding, your world is mine.”
Flint turned this way and that, though every motion cost him a spike of pain in his head, but the shadows told him nothing, and at last he knew that Caerlion had snared him. He couldn’t find the man, and he couldn’t find much of anything else. He was at the treacherous faux-tutor’s mercy, and yet it seemed the man didn’t want to spike him and drain out his blood. Perhaps if he talked with Caerlion he might figure out his position by sound, get close enough to put his hands on the beast. Words, he decided, yes, words might get him a better chance than flailing at the dark.
He lowered his fists, and stood, upright and still, let the darkness settle on him, thick with the odours of damp bark and rotting leaves. “You woke me. You want to talk, Caerlion.”
“Ah, some intelligent behaviour at last. Rare and wonderful pleasure- Damn! I’m doing it again, now, when we’re alone, and you can’t even see me.”
Flint wrinkled his brow. “I don’t...” He shook his head, unsure how to articulate his current state of perplexed fury.
“No, you don’t,” said Caerlion. “That’s the point, and I have kept it sharp, so very sharp. Do you know what it’s like, pretending to be something you’re not?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that I do.”
“’Wouldn’t say that I do’,” said Caerlion in a mocking tone. “You do it all the time. All of you. You lie to each other and you lie to yourselves. And then I come among you, and find I have to lie for my own protection. Lie every day, act, play the fool, and all of it so stupid I could cut my tongue just to taste something real.”
Flint felt cold when he heard the flood of words, and the current of anger that swept them along. “You’re not just a tutor, are you?”
“Oh, you can do better than that, rigger.”
“You’re not even from the bay.”
“The brightest star shines in the darkest night. Bravo, rigger. You’ve got a little snip of brain between those swinging fists.”
Flint ground his teeth together. “Is this why you brought me here? So you could spray insults at me?”
“At you? No. You’re a sideshow. No, I want to, hah, ‘spray insults’ at your dear and beloved city. I want to see what they are, what they really are, in the long, dark night.” Caerlion took a short, sharp breath. “I’ll give you a choice, Flint. We’re not far from your rig. You can leave, just climb in the thing, and run along free.”
His heart jumped, but he suppressed his excitement. “The price, Caerlion. There’s always a price.”
“Yes… You can go, but the dear little thing stays with me.”
He dug his nails into his palm. “You sick… What do you want from her?”
“Not your concern, rigger.”
“If I left, took the Rhino, you’d be stuck here, and Blacksnake and her friends would hunt you down.”
“Are you sure you know everything about me?”
He considered the ways that Caerlion had surprised him. “...no. But it wouldn’t make your life easier.”
“Not your concern. One more chance, rigger. Take the Rhino, go, never look back, never dream of coming back. Put the sea in your rear screen, set your turbine to full thrust, and run to the place where the land and sky meet.”
He considered it. Caerlion was offering him his wish, his dream, the freedom he’d longed for. He’d meant to run, back at the city, until the girl had shown up early and crawled all over his rig, and since then, in one twisted corner of his mind he’d been figuring and scheming how to get rid of her and her tutor, how to dump them, safely, of course, but dump them all the same, and leave the race, and the city, far behind. His shoulders tightened and his palms began to sweat as he imagined it, the open way before him, no cares, no burdens, no more golden chains. But then he remembered how the slavers had attacked him, had raided Brock Tiller’s outpost while he was taking on bacon, eggs, and flour. He saw again how he’d smashed the raider’s face with his blackthorn, and seen the golden necklace, the red ruby flash at the man’s throat. Madness had fallen upon him and he’d driven them off, forced the bejeweled one onto his rig, and beaten him until he’d shown him the way to their camp. Flint remembered how the raiders had scattered when he’d swept down on them in the Rhino, how none had resisted when he’d found the prisoners, the woman and the child, bound at the wrists and chained in wire cages. He knew he would never forget that image, would die before he let it fade. He had been far from the city then, and still it had found him.
Tears welled up in his eyes and ran down his face, mingling with the sweat that had blossomed across his skin. He wiped them away, and took a deep breath. “If you want to kill me, Caerlion, this is the best chance you will ever have. If not, you had best let that girl go, because I’m not leaving this forest without her.”
Caerlion sighed. “I worried about you, Flint. I really thought you’d run, I really did.”
“I don’t need your worries. Are you going to let her go?”
“Well… The second choice, you see, is that you drive me, and yes, the lovely Diana too, to a very particular spot.”
“This where you’re going to load up the Rhino with more guns?” He shivered at the thought.
“Now now, that’s not-”
“My concern, yeah, I get it. But you have to at least tell me where you want to go.”
“East.”
“East is big.”
“We can get into specifics later.”
Flint massaged the back of his neck. “So I take you east, you give me directions, and when we get to the right place, you do your deal, and I take Diana and fly off into the sunset, that about it?”
Caerlion snorted. “Too syrupy for my tastes.”
Flint’s hands itched to throttle the fake tutor. “Do we have a deal?”
“Before I answer, remember one thing, Flint. I am not Burl Clavar. I have the gun, and I’m faster and more… More primitive than you. Turn against me, show the slightest sign of it, and I will blast a hole in your skull and suck out your
brains. And then, whatever happens to dear little Di will be on your hands.”
Flint closed his eyes, but nothing changed. The surrounding darkness flowed into him. Inescapable, it pervaded him. He could run, but the darkness had found a place inside him, a weakness within, and it would ride with him, an endless, secret night.
“What do you say, rigger?”
“Fine. Give me your hand so I can shake it.”
Caerlion laughed. “Wonderful. No. Give me your word.”
And Flint, ashamed and bitter, did.
+
He seemed to float through the darkness on a wave of shame, thick and slimy as rancid milk and the congealing humours of a rack of cracked eggs. He could barely look at Diana when Caerlion led him to her, and he seemed to sleepwalk back to the Rhino, and went through the motions of retracting the pump, warming up the engines, and driving her back down the path of shattered trees to the way.
When at last they were skimming along the way, the surface as dark as the sky above, Caerlion beamed. “Shower, now,” he said, standing behind Flint’s chair. “And sleep.”
Diana sat in the copilot’s seat, her eyes closed, breath slow and even.
“What’s wrong with you now, Caerlion? All your secrets are out. I know you can talk like a real human,” said Flint, eyes on the way ahead.
“One secret, two,” said Caerlion, “more to come, perhaps. Now listen, sir. No internal locks here, no bulkheads, no surprise traps. Shower, my plan, then rest, then all, back together for delicious hot breakfast. But mark, rigger, mark… The gun is here, and fast hands, and cruel vengeance for false dealing.”
Flint rubbed his eyes. “I gave you my word. Play it straight with me and we’ll get along fine.”
“Should hearts change, remember… Bullets will pierce these internal walls.” He leaned in close, and whispered in Flint’s ear. “If you attack me, I’ll kill you. If you lock me up, I will shoot until I hit the fuel tank. Then your beloved Rhino will go up like the late Mr Clavar’s ill-fated rig.”
Flint said nothing as Caerlion turned and walked out of the cockpit. He had entertained a vague idea of catching the tutor unawares and tying him up or something, but the man’s warning chilled him. His head throbbed, his throat felt rough and swollen, and whatever sleep he’d got after Caerlion had knocked him out had left him cold and filled with aches. He welcomed the comforting feel of the pilot’s seat, the familiar thrum of the turbine, and the flash of the way as it flew past, gleaming in the rig’s external lights.
He felt as weak and beaten as he’d ever been, with no way to stop and nowhere to go but on. He glanced at Diana, sleeping in the seat beside him, long black ponytail draped across her shoulder, diamond pendant lying out on her cream blouse, and he shook his head. He could have left her, could have walked away. He had stayed with Caerlion because of her. Thinking back on it, he couldn’t see any other choice, but still it made him sick.
He turned his eyes back to the way ahead. “I gave my word. But let’s see, you sonofabitch. Let’s see you keep yours.”
He set the rig to cruise along the way, and allowed the warm seat and the humming rig to lull him into sleep.
+
He woke to the smell of charred meat and scorched coffee grounds. He looked up at the vague figure by his side, rubbed his eyes, and tried to focus. “Diana. You were… Cooking?”
She showed him all her teeth, and they shone in the morning sun that streamed in through the windows. It might have been a smile. “I tried to make everything the way you like it. I watched you cooking yesterday, and I think I remembered everything.”
“That’s… That’s great.”
“Only I couldn’t find the flour for the pancakes, so I used sugar.”
His mouth fell open. “Ah.”
“And when I couldn’t clean off the first pan, I had to use the second only it was too small, so I put the bacon in with the pancakes.”
“...right.”
“And when I made your coffee, I forgot to put the little basket-thing in first, so there’s all coffee chunks in your mug.”
“Uh huh.”
She took a deep breath, and tried smiling again. “But I tasted everything, and I’m not dead, so...”
He took the tray, and waved her into her seat. “Let’s have breakfast.”
She smiled again, and this time it looked real.
Flint took an exploratory sip of his coffee, and tried not spit it out. He had a mouthful of gritty coffee grounds, swimming in thick, soupy liquid so bitter he fought down the urge to dunk his bacon pancake in the drink to sweeten it. Once he managed to get over the taste, the texture, and the consistency of the coffee, he felt a pleasant glow light up his head and down through his body. “You don’t make weak coffee, Diana. That you do not.”
She leaned over and took a small plate and some cutlery from the tray, heaped it with bacon pancakes, sat back in her chair, and nibbled at her food. “Thank you, Flint.”
He shrugged, and had a chunk of pancake. “This isn’t bad, either.” Although much sweeter than he’d have made it, the sugar seemed to harmonise with the salty flavour of the bacon, and while it was rather tough, the effort of chewing gave him a vague sense of accomplishment.
“Thanks, Flint. You know, you should put labels on your cupboards and jars and things. That’s what my mom does, and it helps. When you’re in a hurry, one white powder looks a lot like any other white power, and boom! You’ve got a souffle.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Did you…?
She giggled and shook her head. “No, I didn’t quite manage that.”
The ate in silence for a bit, and then he shot her a glance. “I should have listened to you.”
He jaws worked as she chewed a slice of pancake. “Huh?”
“Hemlock. Cyanide.’
She lowered her eyes, and then she nodded. “I guess.”
He drank some more coffee. “You could have told me more. Given me a hint at least.”
She said nothing. Some time passed in silence, and then Flint saw her tremble, and a tear streak down her face. He pulled out a handkerchief, and handed it to her. She didn’t look at him, but she took it, and wiped her eyes.
“Guess it wasn’t that easy for you,” he said. “I forget how young you are, how intimidating it must be, having a man like that sent to… I don’t know, is he here for you at all? Is he supposed to teach you? To protect you? Or was it all a cover, right from the beginning?”
She shook her head. “Flint, I can’t...”
“I know,” he said, making a calming gesture with his hands. “You don’t have to say anything. Maybe you couldn’t have said anything. Maybe you didn’t know about the gun.”
“Flint, please…”
“Did you, though?”
She swallowed, and turned swollen red eyes on him. “I wanted to trust you. I wanted to believe I could. But after what happened with Blenner, and then when I saw Caldy and her mom living with those wild people… I’m not the only one with secrets, Flint. You’ve never trusted me, not really. I don’t think you trust anyone, except this old rig.” She patted the dash, and smiled. “And I get it. Out here you’re free, you can go anywhere you want, and not worry what happens in the city. But for me…” She fingered the chain around her neck. “The city follows me wherever I go, Flint.”
His eyes grew moist, and he wiped them with his sleeve. “You could be free, Diana. I could take you somewhere...”
She picked up a fork and waved it him. “You would be free. I would always need someone, a guardian, a protector. I saw the marks on Caldy’s wrists. She and her mom both, someone took them and tied them up. I don’t know what happened, but I can guess, and I don’t want that to happen to me.”
“Do you want to stick with him, then?” He jerked his thumb back, at the closed door, and the recesses of the rig.
“I want to do this to him,” she said, and jabbed her fork into her pancake, lifted it up, and bit off a chunk. “But I can’t
,” she said, her mouth full of food. “You’re working for him now, Flint.”
He grimaced. “Temporarily.”
“It’s still true.”
He slammed his fist down on the wheel. “I’ve got my reasons, and I say it’s temporary.”
“Flint.”
He turned to her. “Listen to me, everything I’ve done, I’ve done for someone else-”
“Flint, look,” she said, pointing out of the window.
“Diana, I want you to listen, because-”
“Flint, just, arrgh.” She grunted, put a hand on his bruised temple, and turned his head to face the window.
“Diana, what...” His mouth fell open as he sat, entranced, at the sight of a dozen big red kangaroos bouncing along a little stream by the side of the way. The sight, so absurd, shocked the pain and tension out of his system, and he started to giggle. “I told you.”
She stared at the animals with wide eyes and a delighted smile. “My God, Flint,” she said. “Are we really in Australia?”
He grinned and shrugged. “I don’t know what land this is, but obviously it’s Australia. I know what I see, and those are kangaroos, those are real kangaroos.”
She laughed. “Maybe they escaped from a zoo, Flint.”
He shot her a blank look. “A what?”
She rolled her eyes his way, and then raised one eyebrow. “Rigger, you need to read more.”