Debris (46 page)

  Gaping, I stared at him, hand still on the doorknob, one foot in the air with the boot half tugged off, the other wobbling as I struggled not to fall. Then Kichlan snored.

  He was slumped in the chair, cheek pressed into his hand, elbow propped up on the table. And, it seemed, sound asleep.

  I slipped the rest of the way out of my boots, hung my jacket on its hook by the door and tried to tiptoe through to my bedroom.

  Kichlan gave another half-snore, coughed, and opened a single eye. "Other, Tanyana, do you know what bell it is?"

  With a sigh, I gave up my inept attempt at stealth. "I have no idea." I hadn't heard the chimes. "And why are you here?"

  "Came to talk to you. Old woman told me you'd be back so I waited." He stretched his mouth in a giant yawn, and spread his arms wide. He rolled his wrists in the air, wincing slightly. "Didn't realise I'd have to wait this long." One hand dropped to his lower back. "This did me no favours."

  "Maybe you should have gone home then," I muttered. My room was warm from Valya's downstairs fires, and the comfort had eased me enough to realise how exhausted I was. I didn't want to deal with whatever Kichlan was here for. All I wanted was sleep.

  "I probably should have." Kichlan stood, rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms some more. "But I'm still here. And now you're here."

  I had no idea what he was talking about. "If this is going to become a talk that starts 'You're a woman and I'm a man' – could you warn me? I'd like to throw up in advance."

  He glared at me. With the gas lamp below him and the night at his back, I was reminded again how tall Kichlan was. He said, "We've spoken about being serious before."

  "So you know not to expect it to come easily," I replied.

  "At all would be nice."

  I held my tongue.

  Kichlan let out a huge sigh like a giant bellows emptying. "What is going on, Tanyana?"

  I blinked. "What do you mean?"

  "I'm not an idiot, none of us are. We might not have your education–"

  "–don't start that again–"

  "Stop acting like you think we're all simple debris collectors without a brain between us, then."

  I scowled at him before rubbing at my eyes. "Kichlan, I'm exhausted. Get to your point or I'm going to start sleeping on my feet."

  "Fine," he snapped, and crossed his arms. "What's going on? These emergencies, events, whatever you want to call them, you were right. They're not normal. This is so far from normal I don't have a category bizarre enough."

  "I thought so," I said.

  "I saw it, don't try and deny it. That debris, those planes, they were attacking you. Not us, Tanyana, you. It shouldn't attack anyone, why you?"

  Why me?

  I stared at him, and realised I had no answer. So instead, I said, "I told you about Grandeur–"

  "About what?" he interrupted.

  "The statue, when I fell. The pions that attacked me."

  "And now you think debris is doing the same thing?" He lifted a sceptical eyebrow.

  "I don't know, I just don't know. It isn't possible, it shouldn't be possible. But–"

  "It's an awful lot of coincidences, isn't it?"

  I smiled at him, hope like a tenuous fluttery bird in my heart. Kichlan, of everyone, might just believe me.

  "So, what does this mean?" Kichlan asked. "Either everything is out to get you, from the bindings of the world to the waste it creates, or someone is directing them." He rubbed his face again. "Do you remember making anyone really, really angry?" He flashed a cheeky grin at me from beneath his hand. "Because that I would believe."

  "Not anyone in particular."

  "I'd imagine you have lots of people to choose from." His grin fell away. "The team is confused about this. Some of us are frightened."

  I thought of Lad and my heart gave a little jump.

  He said, "They're not trying to be malicious."

  I nodded. I understood. I believed him. I really did.

  We stood in my rented room, the silence heavy and

straining. It was some kind of understanding, I supposed. The awkwardness and the hopelessness of it all.

  "Is that where you went?" Kichlan asked, his voice softer, easier. "Tonight. To look for answers?"

  "I'm not even sure anymore." I released a pent-up laugh. "I found something. Not an answer for me though."

  "Oh?"

  I hesitated. "In other times, Kichlan, you might not want to change someone like Lad. He might have been accepted the way he is."

  "Another place too, perhaps." His expression hardened. "But this is not either. And in this place, and at this time, we have to protect him, we have to keep him hidden. Because the veche love debris collectors with skill. They love to test suits on them. Yes, like the suits I used to make. I was a part of it, I've seen it, and I will not allow it to happen to Lad."

  Was I part of the we again?

  "The only way I can think of," Kichlan continued. "The surest way, is to cure him."

  I nodded, unsure whether I still agreed.

  Then Kichlan pulled his jacket from where it had draped over a chair. "I should go, Tanyana."

  "It's late," I said. "Maybe you should stay and we'll collect Lad together? I have a rug and some blankets. And if that doesn't tempt you, Valya makes a mighty dawnbell supper."

  Kichlan chuckled. "Nothing is quite as tempting as the idea of sleeping on a rug on the floor. But no, I sadly must decline. I should be there for Lad, when he wakes up."

  "Thank you though," he said.

  "No need."

  A smile each, and Kichlan left my room. I didn't envy him the walk.

 
 
 
 

Devich said to me, "It will be nothing like the last one."

  "I don't see why I have to go anywhere. Whether or not it's like the last one." At least Devich wasn't insisting on dressing up again. I supposed I should be grateful for small blessings.

  Devich, at my shoulder and reflected in the mirror, kissed the curve of my jaw. "Because you are my saviour. And news of the debris incident is running over Movoc like fire through dry grass. You are at the centre of that, although you don't seem to be able to understand that without outside prompting. These people want to meet you, these people want to thank you."

  "You want to show me around to them, you mean. Your saviour." I didn't fancy another night pinned under glass.

  "Can I help it that I happen to have a beautiful saviour on my arm?"

  "Don't call me that, Devich."

  "But it's the truth."

  I frowned at him through the glass, but already knew I would give in. The smug smile on his face told me he knew it too.

  I owed Devich. I felt it in my core. Never mind his saviour rambling – that was my duty. When Barbarian and Comedian had thrown me from my home, I should have searched for him. I should have told him I was not hurt. And memories of his limp body in my arms evoked so much guilt. Because if he hadn't come to find me, and if I hadn't saved him just in time, he could have died in that attack like his assistant had, and never known what had happened to me. That I had only abandoned him because I had no choice. Going along with another of his social gatherings would have to do for now.

  "Fine," I acquiesced with a scowl. "We're not staying long, though. And I'm not changing clothes."

  "Of course!" Devich squeezed my shoulders and turned from the mirror. "This night is about you."

  I really wished it wasn't.

  "Let's hurry, then." Devich was already in his coat, scarf and gloves. He held out my jacket and waved it at me.

  "Why the rush?" It was strange, that Devich who planned and cultivated me last time was happy for me to leave as I was. I still wore the clothes from an Olday of collecting. While the morning had quickly given us more than enough debris to fill our quota, so the clothes weren't dirty or sweat stained, they were functional, not fashionable. Worn for searching the streets of Movocunder-Keeper, for hours of walking.

  "Earlier we get there, earlier we can leave. Isn't that what you want?"

  I shrugged, and allowed him to fit the jacket over my shoulders. What did I care how I looked for these mysterious friends? That was Devich's concern.

  We found a landau so quickly I suspected it had been waiting. Maybe Devich had known I would give into him. I was making a habit of it. Again, we rolled into the centre of the city. But this time we passed the grand manors and continued deeper, to the tightness of buildings at the edge of the bridge.

  "Where is this gathering?" I asked, voice frosting the coach window.

  "We'll be there soon."

  I scowled at Devich lounging in the seat opposite. His shoulder was out of its bandage, although still stiff. "Not an answer."

  He laughed. "You wouldn't know the place, Tanyana. So it's not going to make any difference."

  Finally, the coach drew to a halt in a dark alley. I stepped out onto cold and slippery stones, but refused Devich's hand. Buildings towered over us like a forest of dull windows and gargoyle heads. I shivered. These buildings were not constructed of cement and bricks. Sandstone and slate, old handprints and chiselled initials. Older than the revolution, these were. Like Proud Sunlight yet darker, somehow. Where my university had the Keeper inscribed into its every corner, this place seemed to prefer the Other. The grotesque instead of the beautiful.

  "What is this place?" I whispered to the dark night. Lamps shone at the end of the alley, but no light disturbed the ancient stone.

  Devich swung himself up to the driver and said something I couldn't hear into the man's ear. The driver nodded, and directed the coach to the end of the alleyway. There, he lowered the coach to the street, and relocated to the cabin itself. Waiting again.

  "Excited?" Devich hooked his elbow gingerly into my arm. Fearing for his shoulder, I didn't pull away.

  "Should I be?"

  With a grin, Devich led me to the shadow of a wide awning. He knocked with a large, oval metallic knocker. I looked up as the sound echoed. More gargoyles hunched over the door, stone eyes watching me. The door opened, light burst from the room beyond like a prisoner desperate to run.

  I recognised the servant in the doorway, though he was not wearing gold this time. He nodded to Devich and me, and stepped back to let us through.

  "Devich?" I hissed as we marched down a long corridor. "What's going on?"

  We entered a warm room, redolent of smoke . Even though the lights brightening the walls were obviously pion-generated, a fire had been lit in an ornate fireplace of dark stone, mounted by more gargoyles. Candlelight danced above wooden tabletops, with iron embellishments on the corners and long benches. The room was full of faces I knew. Old men, all of them. The veche inspector. The debris enthusiasts. Not dressed this time in their finest suits, but in strange, dark cloaks tied at the waists. The whole setting made me shiver. There was something so wrong about the mixture of pion-generated light and flame, about these ancient, wealthy men dressed so strangely.

  And I didn't want to be left in the middle of it.

  "My dear." Vladir Sporinov extricated himself from the small throng and approached me, hands outstretched. "You made it here. We are so glad."

  I forced myself to smile at their soft, general murmur of approval.

  "See." Devich slipped his arm from mine with a level of dexterity he had not been able to show until now, and nudged me a few steps forward.

  "And I heard you saved our young Devich here."

  A round of applause broke out. The circle was tightening, the faces menacing in their closeness.

  "Yes," I answered, suddenly hot beneath clothing and uniform.

  "Good choice. A wonderful young man to, ah, save."

  I blushed in the wake of indulgent laughter.

  Then it started up again. The questioning. Was it tiring, such constant collecting? How did I coat myself in silver like that? Where did I find the strength to lift a man from the rubble and carry him to safety?

  I deflected as best I could, answered the easy ones, and wondered why they were all here again, questioning me. How did they know so many details? Had Devich told them everything he could remember, or had they been there too, watching, like the Other-blasted puppet men had done? Where had Devich gone? He'd evaporated into the sea of dim light and weathered faces.

  One old man wrapped a hand around my upper arm. "Did it hurt?" he whispered, voice grating. "When the debris picked you up. When it knocked you back. Did it hurt?" He leaned forward, mouth slightly open, as though he would suck in my answer like air.

  "Y-yes," I floundered. Had I told Devich about that? Had he seen it, in his half-sighted pion-binder way? I couldn't remember, I just didn't know.

  "But your suit helped you, did it?"

  My suit? It had, yes, and it had done so almost on its own. How could he know that, this old binder?

  "Came to the rescue? Worked well?"

  Vladir unwrapped the old man from my arm, one strong, resisting finger at a time. "Come now, Kadjat, not too hard. Let's be nice to the dear collector while we can."

  Kadjat hesitated for a moment, before breaking into a grin. "Oh, yes."

  I found myself shivering as Vladir led him away, flushing hot and cold in the close room. More eyes, so close, more hands. Someone stroked the suit around my neck. I flinched away, and the chuckling rose again.