A World of Ash: The Territory 3 (6 page)

Lynn leaned back against the cold and slightly wet wall of her cell. She looked up and felt a drip land on her forehead just above her right eye. Staring at the stone ceiling she watched another drip form, a glistening protrusion of water that grew slowly until its own weight pulled it away from the rock and it dropped down through the air and landed on her skin in the exact same place as the first. The water pumped around the building must have been leaking from the pipes, she thought, and working its way through the spaces in the stone.

Once, before all this, she had lived in a wealthy household. She had lived in the kind of house that could only be afforded by the very rich or, in the case of her father, those in the government. Back then she’d had access to what she’d thought was an endless supply of water and mechanical energy. She could remember her father lecturing her for wasting both from time to time, but she’d never really thought about it. She’d never wanted for anything. Now, as she watched the water leak through the walls of the cathedral, she felt anger at the waste and excess. There were people outside the walls of Alice who barely had enough to drink and yet here in the Cathedral of Glorious God the Redeemer, the heart of the Church that claimed to protect those people, there was such disdain for the needs of others that water was left to leak down the walls of a prison cell.

The stone around her was thick and the door was made of steel, so Lynn could hear nothing beyond the confines of her room. Alone in this place she could have been anywhere in the world. She could have been back in Pitt, and in truth she wished she was, away from this inescapable situation. The guards who had dragged her here had made it perfectly clear that the next time she left her cell it would be to see the High Priestess, who would surely decree her almost immediate execution for high treason. As much as she tried to occupy her mind with thoughts of other things she realized quickly enough that she didn’t have anything happy to focus on. All her family was dead and she had no idea what had happened to Squid and Nim. They were probably dead too. All she had left was the fiery passion she’d felt as the Holy Order had forced her off that dirigible. She had to find a way to get out of here and prove the Administrator’s link to her father’s death, to bring the people of the slums inside the walls and to put an end to the oppressive rule of High Priestess Patricia and her red-cloaked army. Unfortunately, as she looked around at her current situation, she had no idea how to accomplish even a small part of that.

Lynn was being kept in a section of the cathedral she had never seen before. It was an odd thing, she thought, for there to be prison cells beneath a church. But she knew what sort of church she was dealing with – one that kept people and knowledge locked away to maintain their comfortable status quo, just as they kept everyone in the Central Territory locked away behind the ghoul-proof fence, locked away from the truth of what was out there.

The hollow scraping of a key in the heavy steel door echoed off the cell walls. There was no knock. The click of the lock was the only warning Lynn got before the door swung outward and she saw a clergyman, his red cloak flowing down from his shoulders. Lynn stood hurriedly. They had come for her but she would not be led out looking afraid.

The clergyman that entered the room was tall and even in the dim light of the cell Lynn could see his uniform was more decorated than usual. A red lanyard was wrapped around his right shoulder and draped down over the front of his stiff white shirt. Elaborate emblems of gold, bursting rays of light above an open book, were pinned on both sides of his collar, and medals were positioned on the left side of his chest, just above his breast pocket. Gold buttons Lynn had never before seen on a Holy Order uniform gleamed down his front and even his red cloak was held in place with thick wooden shoulder boards rimmed with gold tassels. Despite his ornate uniform, which Lynn thought must have indicated an extraordinarily high rank, Lynn’s eyes were drawn to his face and hair. His skin was the palest she had ever seen and his hair was so white it would almost be translucent in the sunlight. He didn’t look like someone born to withstand the harsh Territory sun. He fixed her with his light blue eyes.

“Do you know who I am?” he said.

Lynn shook her head. “No,” she said. “Should I?”

“My name is Clergy-General Hillsly Provost. I am Commander of the Holy Order in service to High Priestess Patricia and the Church of Glorious God the Redeemer.”

“Wow, I must be more important than I thought if the High Priestess is sending the Commander of the entire Holy Order to collect me,” Lynn said. She made it sound as sarcastic as she could but in truth that was exactly how she felt. Why on the Ancestors’ red earth was the general of the Holy Order the one to take her to the High Priestess? Surely that was a job for a clergyman ranked far below him.

“Actually,” the general said, “High Priestess Patricia doesn’t know I’m here.”

Lynn blinked. “What do you mean? You aren’t here to take me to her?”

The general shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’m here to take you somewhere else.”

“Does she prefer not to know where you kill the prisoners? Is that it?”

“I’m not here to kill you, Miss Hermannsburg. In fact, I’m here to do the opposite.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will soon enough,” the general said. “But I’m afraid we must take some necessary precautions.”

He turned back to look out the cell door and gestured with one hand. He stepped aside as two men entered. Lynn had expected red-cloaks, but they weren’t wearing the uniform of Holy Order clergymen. In fact it was their distinct lack of any official attire that was their most noticeable feature. This wasn’t common in the cathedral, where most people walked the halls wearing the red cloak of a clergyman, the muted gray dress of an initiate or the white dress of a fully fledged Sister. These men wore clothes that wouldn’t have looked out of place in an Alice market or on builders or workmen, plain cuts and dull colors designed for utility rather than fashion. Lynn saw that each wore a tool belt around his waist and had bags slung over his shoulders.

They entered the cell and the general looked back out into the hall, glancing left and right as if checking that no one else was around. He pulled the door closed, leaving it slightly ajar so that the room was dropped into the perpetual murk Lynn was used to.

“Are you here to fix those pipes?” Lynn said, motioning up to the source of the moisture. “Because someone should do that.”

The men ignored her, dropping their bags and removing their belts, letting them fall to the cell floor. Each of them slipped their work clothes off. They were both wearing underwear but Lynn instinctively dropped her eyes to the floor.

“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously, keeping her eyes fixed on the gray-green stones.

“Necessary deception,” the general said.

When Lynn looked up again the two men were dressing in the white uniforms of clergymen and pinning red cloaks around their necks. They stuffed the discarded work clothes and belts into the bags they had carried in with them and tossed them into a dark corner of the cell.

“These two will be escorting you out of here,” Provost said.

The men moved forward, each taking one of her arms. Initially she struggled but she knew her struggle was meek and half-hearted. There was a part of her that wanted to go with them, wanted to believe what the general had told her. Could they really be taking her somewhere safe? Was there anywhere left where the long fingernails of the High Priestess couldn’t dig in and pull her back?

“Again,” Clergy-General Provost said, stepping toward Lynn, “apologies it must be this way.”

The world around Lynn was plunged into darkness as the general lifted a black bag up and over her head. It was left loose so she could still breathe, but the feeling of being trapped caused her chest to tighten. As if he had noticed her reaction the general adjusted the bag, pulling the front further off her face.

“I assure you this is only for transportation,” Provost said. “I shall have it removed as soon as we arrive at our destination, and when we do, you’ll know why we must keep the location secret.”

“Why should I believe anything you tell me?” Lynn said, the heat of panic rising through her again. “The Church and I haven’t exactly seen eye to eye. How do I know you’re not taking me somewhere to kill me after all?”

There was no answer for a moment but then the general spoke. “I suppose you don’t know that. But consider it this way, you don’t actually have a choice.”

As Clergy-General Provost and the two men who may or may not have been Holy Order clergymen dragged her through the weaving turns of the cathedral, Lynn quickly lost her bearings. They passed voices in the echoing hallways, voices that quieted as she went by. Being unable to see as she was pulled hurriedly through barely remembered corridors full of unknown enemies was simultaneously terrifying and disorientating.

After some time the men either side of her pulled back on her arms, stopping her.

“Who is that? Why are you removing a prisoner?” a voice asked. “And who are you? I don’t recognize you.”

“That’s all right, Corporal,” Lynn heard the voice of Provost say from behind her, “they’re acting under my orders.”

“Sir.” The voice stiffened and Lynn imagined the man’s body must have too. “I’m sorry, General, I didn’t realize you were with them. I’m just following orders, sir, no unauthorized entry or exit from the cathedral.”

“That’s fine, Corporal. Keep up the excellent work.”

“Yes, sir,” the clergyman said, “it’s just that, as I said, no unauthorized entry or exit is permitted.”

“I hardly think those orders apply to me, Corporal.”

“Yes Sir, but—”

“I
give
those orders, son.”

Even blindfolded Lynn could feel the tension rising in the air around them, like the temperature in a glasshouse under the glare of the oppressive sun.

“Actually, General, sir, this order came down from the High Priestess herself.”

“Corporal,” Provost said slowly. It sounded in no way demeaning, but the manner in which he spoke clearly emphasized the enormity of the gulf between the ranks of corporal and general.

“Yes, sir?”

“I pride myself on each and every clergyman of the Holy Order showing initiative, and having the ability to think for themselves in difficult situations. This is one of the times I’d like you to exercise that trait. I, Clergy-General Hillsly Provost, Commander of the Holy Order, am standing before you as part of a prisoner escort. This is where I’d like you to think carefully. How important do you think this situation must be if I, the aforementioned, am taking it upon myself to escort this prisoner?”

“Very important, sir,” the corporal replied.

“Indeed. You have two options in this scenario, Corporal. You could let me go about this business which is so far above your pay grade it would make your head spin, or you could hold me up and make me late while you seek approval. If you invoke this standing order and make me wait here while you bother the High Priestess herself with this I will, of course, cooperate, because, as you quite rightly state, you are simply following orders. However, I will be unlikely to forget the inconvenience.”

There was a pause, a moment during which Lynn had no doubt the corporal was agonizing over an incomprehensible number of emotions, and which seemed to stretch on for a long while.

Eventually the corporal replied. “Have a nice day, General, and sorry for holding you up.”

“Not at all.”

And they were moving again. Lynn felt herself emerging from the artificial coolness of the cathedral into the oven-like heat of early afternoon in Alice. They were outside.

“Watch your step here,” one of the men beside her said as Lynn stumbled up into what she realized was a carriage. Not being able to judge the distance to the cushioned seat she fell backward into sitting.

After she heard the others climb aboard and close the door she asked, “Can I take this off now?”

“I’m afraid not,” the general said as the carriage lurched forward.

Lynn’s body rocked from side to side with the unanticipated movements of the carriage. She could sense the city streets around them but quickly became disoriented. Deprived of her sense of sight her ears and nose did what they could. The sounds were indistinct – horses, bio-trucks, steamcycles, the occasional shout – but they were all common sounds heard everywhere in the city. She was surprised to find it was the smells that helped guide her the most, at least at first. She had noticed on exiting the cathedral that the scent of the slums floating into Alice was stronger than she remembered. It was rare to smell the slums as far into the city as the cathedral, but there had certainly been a hint of it on the air. It must have been the increase in the number of people living out there, she thought.

As they traveled Lynn noticed the weak smell of the slums growing stronger and guessed they must have been moving away from the center of the city and out toward the Wall. She smelled the scent of perfumes from the shops and even wet leaves and grass – which meant they must have been watering the park – but all these smells began to diminish, replaced instead by the stronger smells of burning bio-fuel and grease, the smells of work. The sounds became those of a working area too, banging, grinding, and rumbling engines. They had moved closer to the Wall and into a more working-class part of the city. Lynn realized they were in the Gap.

Lynn wanted to ask if she was right about their guessed location, but decided that might not be wise. She wasn’t supposed to know where they were heading, and who knew what they’d do to her if she guessed correctly? For now she’d go along with it. The carriage stopped and she heard the door open, felt the movement around her as General Provost and the two fake clergymen clambered out.

“All right,” Provost said. “Watch your step.” Lynn felt his strong hand take hers and guide her down to the ground. She might have been a socialite arriving at a glamorous ball if she hadn’t had a black bag over her head.

In front of her a door that sounded as though it hadn’t been opened in a thousand years howled on its hinges. Lynn felt the two men take her arms again.

“This way please, Miss Hermannsburg.”

Lynn was led forward into a building that provided much less relief from the heat than the cathedral had. They walked straight ahead, then took a right followed by a left before she was told to stop and wait. Someone knocked on a wooden door three times with a certain purpose. She heard the sound of another door opening. She sensed the general moving away, but the men either side of her held her arms fast. More waiting. Voices spoke low enough that she couldn’t make out what was being said before the general’s voice called out.

“Bring her in.”

She was shuffled forward a few paces before being pulled to a stop yet again. She sensed someone moving toward her and with a sudden swift movement the black bag was pulled free from over her head. She blinked and brushed the hair off her face. The room itself was quite dark. There were no windows in the wooden slat walls and the gloom was pushed back only by three bio-fuel lamps, one hanging from a bent nail, the others positioned on desks in the corners. The lack of light meant Lynn’s eyes adjusted quickly. In front of her, the man who had removed her hood was not General Provost but another familiar face. A face her first instinct was to recoil from. It was the tall, swarthy figure of Knox Soilwork.

“Lynnette Hermannsburg,” Knox said in his slow but deliberate voice. “A pleasure to see you again.” He held the black hood aloft. “And I’m terribly sorry about all this.”

He may have been an old man but he was still imposing. He exuded a sense of confidence that suggested he was in control, regardless of the situation. Despite what Mr. Stix and Mr. Stownes had said about him trying to stop the High Priestess’s plans, Lynn didn’t trust him. How could she? She could only ever see him as the man hovering behind the Administrator as she was exiled from the Territory. He may even have been involved in her father’s death. When Lynn didn’t respond he continued in his silky tones. “The secrecy of this place is of paramount importance and we couldn’t risk even you knowing its location, at least not yet, not unless we can be sure we can trust you.”

“Trust me?” Lynn said, looking from Soilwork to Provost and back again. “I think I’m the one who should be untrusting.”

“I believe you met my agents, Mr. Stix and Mr. Stownes. They should have informed you of the situation.”

“They informed me you wanted Squid to fulfil the prophecy. They cared much less about me. If it wasn’t for Squid convincing them otherwise they would have left me with pirates.”

“Squid was their mission, yes,” Soilwork said, “but you traveled with them in the end. Yourself and a Nomad boy.”

“Yeah,” Lynn said, “until we were all captured.”

“By the Holy Order in Pitt,” Soilwork said.

Lynn nodded.

“And then you were sent back here?”

Lynn nodded again.

“What happened to Squid?”

“You seem to know everything,” Lynn said, her irritation growing with every second. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“What?!” Lynn said. She was angry, but she knew her feelings were deeper than that, rawer than that. She was afraid. She was terrified for the safety of her friends. She had hoped, given that Knox Soilwork seemed so well informed, that he would know what had happened to them. She was desperate to know whether they were safe. “Why don’t you know?”

“I know they managed to escape from Pitt,” Knox Soilwork said. He looked toward Clergy-General Provost. “We intercepted word that Squid, Nim, Mr. Stix and Mr. Stownes got out with the aid of a traitorous Black Sister.”

“They got away?” Lynn couldn’t help but smile. “They actually got away?”

Knox nodded. “We’ve heard nothing since then, but they are beyond the fence now so we can’t necessarily expect word to reach us.”

“The High Priestess doesn’t know they escaped,” Provost said. “I’ve managed to keep the news contained, though I don’t know for how long. Holy Order clergymen were dispatched by the Black Sisters to recover them and anything they may have found if they actually did reach Big Smoke. High Priestess Patricia will learn of this soon enough.”

“But they got away?” Lynn asked again, needing to hear it once more.

“Yes,” Provost said.

Lynn smiled again, she even laughed under her breath. Squid and Nim. Those two maniacs had escaped from the Holy Order’s most secure prison. No matter what had happened since then, at least they were out of that hole in the ground. It gave her a glimmer in the darkness, a pinpoint of light that she could focus on.

She turned to Knox Soilwork. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Because, Lynnette,” Knox said, “you and I, and all of us here, have a common goal.”

“All of us?”

Knox moved to a door at the far end of the room and opened it. “Hence the secrecy,” he said, motioning for her to look.

Beyond the door Lynn could see a large room, similarly lit by a scattering of lamps. Old empty wooden shelving stood haphazardly around the space where a large number of people, perhaps forty or fifty, men and women, old and young, in all manner of clothing, sat in groups eating, talking, or deep in discussion as they pored over maps of the city. But it was the man who stood and walked toward her that caught her attention. He even had the audacity to smile.

“Miss Hermannsburg,” the Administrator said. “Wonderful to see you back in the city.”

Lynn scowled. “What in Ancestors’ sin is he doing here?”