Christmas Carol (29 page)

“I have noticed how freely you use spices,”
Carol said to Bas. “Does the Government by any chance hold the
spice monopoly?”

“Who else would hold it?” Bas demanded with
cynical humor. “We are encouraged to use all spices freely, but
especially cinnamon. The Government must have its profits, though I
must say, the spices do improve the flavor of inferior food.”

“Just as spices did in the Middle Ages,”
Carol noted. Bas did not seem to hear her. He went on with his
complaints about the available food.

“This fall we bought a basket of apples and
stored them in the cellar, but already they are so bruised and
rotting that the only way to use them is to cut them up and cook
them in puddings or applesauce. I can remember when good apples
would last for most of the winter if they were kept cold.”

“Obviously, the Government’s food
distribution system isn’t what it should be. Do you ever get
oranges?” Carol thought of all the fresh fruits and vegetables she
had seen heaped into the grocers’ bins at holiday time in the world
into which she had been born. She had always taken such lavish
displays for granted. She wondered how Bas would react if she could
show him the food halls at Harrods. Bas snorted in disgust at her
question.

“If there are any oranges,” he said, “the
Great Leaders keep them to themselves. I ate an orange once, years
ago when I was a boy. I have never forgotten the taste of it.”

“There is another reason for wanting to
change the present Government,” Carol said. “Just think of the
dishes you could create if fresh produce were shipped here from
other parts of the world in winter. Judging by the meals I have
eaten in this kitchen, you have the potential to be a world-class
chef, Bas.”

“All of which reminds me,” Nik said. “I
wasn’t going to call another meeting before we move tomorrow, but
since every one of us is here, perhaps we ought to go through the
plan once more, to be sure no one has forgotten his part because of
too eager participation in the holiday.” He sent a stern look in
the direction of Luc and his friends.

“We haven’t forgotten,” said Luc, “nor did we
talk too much while we were out last night. Our plan is too
important for us to chance being caught through carelessness.”

“I am relieved to hear you say so.” Nik gave
Luc a brief smile. “Begin by reciting your part.”

Carol listened with growing excitement to
what her new friends were saying. Lady Augusta had disappeared
shortly after bringing her to this time, but when Carol interrupted
the discussion to mention her absence, neither Nik nor the others
seemed to think it was odd. Nik pointed out that “Aug” was a witch
and thus was free to come and go as she wanted.

Carol had her own explanation for Lady
Augusta’s absence, though she kept it to herself. There was a
lesson Carol was expected to learn in this time, and what that
lesson was she would have to figure out for herself, rather than
having Lady Augusta direct her. Carol was rapidly coming to the
conclusion that the lesson had something to do with Nik’s plan. He
and his friends were going to attempt on the morrow to begin to fan
the underground flames of resentment against a strict and uncaring
Government into an open, widespread rebellion, and then into a
full-scale revolution that they were hoping would produce major
changes in the social and political system. Carol believed she was
expected to be part of those changes.

When Bas brought the bottle of brandy out of
its hiding place in his bedroom and poured a small amount into the
cup or glass of each person present, Carol stood with the rest for
Nik’s toast.

“To the success of our venture.” Nik raised
his glass.

“We know the cost will be high,” Al added,
looking from face to face and then putting an arm around Pen. “We
believe our goal is worth the risk, and we trust you, Nik.”

“Hear, hear,” cried Luc.

Upon that signal they all swallowed the fiery
stuff. On this evening, in such company, the brandy did not seem to
Carol at all harsh or strong. She drained her glass at a gulp, and
set it down with a sense of lightness and in complete certainty of
belonging.

In late afternoon they all went out to the
square again, this time to witness the ceremony as the Orb left the
World Tree until the next holiday.

The line of sight was not as clear for sunset
as for sunrise, because the remains of several buildings, including
Marlowe House, blocked the actual horizon. Still, the same
participants marched into the square and took their places as on
the previous day. This time, the priest was in dark blue robes, and
the female chorus of two was gowned in black with silver stars
scattered across the fabric. The women glittered with every
movement they made. Carol assumed these costumes were meant to
represent the night sky that would be visible once the sun had set
and the Orb had gone. The obese Leader Fal, who again came with the
priest and the women, was wearing for the occasion an outfit in a
bright shade of green, which did nothing to compliment his sallow
skin.

The priest began to chant, the women joined
him, and just as the sun slipped behind Marlowe House, the branches
of the World Tree released their grip on the Orb. Slowly, silently,
the Orb rose out of the metal tree and drifted upward into the
clear, early evening sky.

Made curious once more by the quiet and
effortless motion of the Orb, Carol decided she was going to watch
it in order to discover where it went. The priest rattled on,
sermonizing about the Orb returning to bless the people at the
Spring Equinox celebrations just three months hence. Carol was
paying little attention to him or to anyone else. She was keeping
her eyes on the rising Orb. The setting sun reflected off its
smooth surface, casting a bit of additional light into the
square.

Nik gripped Carol’s arm so hard that she
unwillingly looked away from the Orb to discover what was wrong.
Nik’s face was set and grim, and he was staring toward the group of
officials who were standing around the World Tree. When Carol
looked upward again, the Orb was gone.

“Where did it go?” she asked. “It just
vanished.”

“Never mind the Orb,” Nik said. “Don’t look
toward the Tree, but you are being watched.”

“By whom?” Carol froze, not wanting to look
anywhere at all until she found out why Nik was so upset that he
would hurt her. He was still holding her upper arm in a tight
grip.

“The commander of the civil guards,” he said,
scarcely moving his lips. “The man who was leading the troops who
nearly marched over Sue yesterday.”

“The man I swore at,” Carol added, shivering
at the memory.

“The same. He has been staring at you all
through the ceremony.”

“What shall we do?” Thinking fast, Carol went
on. “If I go back to the house with you and he comes after me, you
could be in trouble. We cannot jeopardize your plans, Nik.”

“I will take you to Lin’s house,” Nik
decided. “She will welcome you and keep you safe. Come with me
now.”

“No.” Carol planted her feet firmly and
refused to move. “I am not going anywhere with you, because to do
so would show the guards commander that we know each other. At the
moment all he knows for certain is that we are standing next to one
another, which in this crowd means nothing. If I get into trouble
over what I did yesterday and that man thinks there is a connection
between us, then you could be blamed, too. You cannot afford to be
picked up by the police for questioning, Nik.”

“Then I will find someone else to go with
you.”

“I’m glad you aren’t arguing about going with
me yourself, but I am leaving this square alone. I won’t involve
anyone in your group in any trouble I may have with the civil
guards,” she insisted. “I used to be familiar with London. I’m sure
I can still find my way around your Lond. I will go now, before the
ceremony ends. That man won’t be so likely to come charging after
me if he has to make a scene by leaving his official duties to do
it. After all, I haven’t actually done anything illegal. It’s just
that he is suspicious of me because I am a stranger. Look the other
way, Nik, and I’ll slip away now and return to Marlowe House after
the ceremony is over and the square is clear.”

“Please, Car, be careful.” She heard the
tension and the fear for her in his voice.

“I’ll see you in a little while,” she told
him, hoping with all her heart that what she said was true.

Carol stepped behind Nik’s taller, heavily
clothed bulk. He moved to stand squarely in front of her, so his
body would block her from the sight of anyone standing near the
World Tree. With Nik shielding her, it was easy enough for her to
work her way backward among people who were all focused on the
ceremony. No one gave her more than a glance and she kept her face
down, hoping thus to make identification more difficult. If it came
to that; if the guards commander demanded to know who she was. At
the thought of confronting the man dread blossomed anew within her,
along with a premonition of coming horror. There was no time to
dwell on such thoughts. Her immediate aim was to get out of the
square.

She reached the corner of the square. Marlowe
House lay half a block away on her left. In Carol’s imagination the
house beckoned to her, promising a safety she was not willing to
seek. If she were being watched, the last thing she wanted to do
was draw attention to the house where Nik and his friends lived. A
street opened before her, leading away from the square. It headed
westward and Carol took it. The crowd thinned out as she put more
distance between herself, the World Tree, and the ceremony taking
place at the foot of the Tree.

By now she was fairly sure the guards
commander would not know where she had gone, but she wanted to stay
well away from Marlowe House for a while. And, she reminded
herself, she would have to be extremely careful not to be seen by
the commander a third time. There was something about the way he
looked at her with his cold, almost mechanical gaze that sent
chills along her spine. Her every instinct told her the commander
was a man who would listen to no excuses and who would show no
mercy.

It was growing darker by the minute. The
ceremony must be completed by now. This supposition on Carol’s part
was confirmed by the number of people who began to hurry past her.
They all wore a deflated, post-holiday air about them that was much
like the after-Christmas letdown she had noticed on the faces of
people in her own time.

Carol had always felt superior to those sad
souls. Since she did not believe in celebrating Christmas and
expected nothing from the day, she was never disappointed by a lack
of holiday cheer in her own life, and thus the days immediately
following the end of the festive season were the same to her as any
other day of a monotonous year.

Now she was sorry for the poorly dressed,
shivering folk who were wending their way homeward through the
steadily increasing cold. Furthermore, she was aware of a sense of
kinship with them. She was as haphazardly attired as any of the
people around her, and she was shivering, too.

She picked up her pace, wanting to lose
herself in the anonymity of the growing throng pouring out of the
square. Since the official celebrants and the civil guards
apparently used only one route for their processions to and from
the World Tree, Carol did not think she would be followed along
this other street, but it seemed a good idea to try to make herself
appear to be just as dejected as everyone else at the end of the
holiday. Not having any real destination in mind, she continued on
toward the west.

After a while she noticed that the press of
people around her was thinning out as men and women turned off the
main road and into smaller streets and alleys.

“Better get out of the way,” cautioned a man
who brushed by her with a child in his arms. “Here come the guards.
You don’t want to be caught blocking their path.”

“Thanks. I wasn’t paying attention.” Quickly
Carol followed the man into a dark side street.

“You lost?” the man asked, not pausing in his
rapid stride when he glanced at her through the shadows.

“I took the wrong street out of the square,”
Carol said. “After the guards go by I’ll head back again. I’m sure
I can find my way home.”

“Just be careful of the guards, and get
indoors as soon as you can. You know how tough they can be on
stragglers after a holiday ends.”

“Right. Thanks again.” Carol watched the man
and his child fade into the darkness and disappear. Wanting no
meeting with the civil guards, she took his warning to heart and
waited, pressed tight against the side of a building, until the
sound of tramping, booted feet passed away into the darkness. On
returning to the wider street she saw how few people remained on
it. Making a hasty decision she hurried across this street.

Reasoning that if she periodically located
the broad street she knew, it would keep her on course even in the
bewildering darkness, she began to work her way back toward Marlowe
House along narrower, secondary streets which would offer better
shelter than the main road to anyone who wanted to stay out of
sight.

She had reckoned without the winding alleys
and the dead-end mews. Certain sections of London had undergone
great changes in one hundred seventy-five years. The main
thoroughfares might be the same, but the side streets once so
familiar to her had been bombed out and rebuilt several times
before the last bout of general destruction. Ruined buildings and
the inevitable heaps of broken stone and brick impeded her
progress. The twists and turnings she was forced to take around
these obstacles were confusing her sense of direction. She was sure
several hours must have elapsed since she had left Nik, and she
knew he would be worrying about her.