Dragonfly: A Tale of the Counter-Earth at the Cosmic Antipodes (22 page)

43 The Carnival

She led me up a gas-lit aisle. There were cabarets and saloons, game booths and augury tents, thrill rides and skill gauntlets. I eyed it all curiously.

More curiously still did I cast sidelong glances at my rescuer. She wore a loose, rough-spun shift over a black lace camisole and black hose. She had on too much perfume, and it was bad perfume. Her glittery face looked as though it hadn’t been given a good washing in days.

We turned a corner. “Where are you taking me?” I asked.

“Oh, come on,” she giggled, sidling a little closer. “You owe me one ride at least.”

“I’m not sure I can afford it,” I said, wrinkling my nose.

“Don’t worry. They all know me here.”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Lydia. What’s yours?”

“I’m Keftu,” I said. Though anxious to get away from her, I reflected that at that point she could make more trouble for me than I could deal with.

We were in the midst of the rides and gauntlets now. I watched them whirling through the fervid air, mesmerized by the garish lights and the gyration of the blood-stained bludgeons and the tinny music that failed to drown out the scream of machinery. We went to board one. The operator admitted us with a peculiar deference.

We had the car to ourselves. I observed the machinery with interest, recognizing in it a copy of a derelict piece I’d seen on Arges’ island. As the mechanical arm began to move I glimpsed a white shadow at the edge of the carnival, watching me. Then the car dropped and the machine began to go faster and faster.

The girl had chosen her seat skillfully, for the centrifugal force pushed her against me. Her viselike hands were clasped around my arm. “Oh, Keftu,” she giggled, “aren’t you afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“Of the ride, silly!” She screamed with laughter as the car dropped and drove upward again.

“Oh. No, not really. What can you tell me about this Pinky? Do you know him personally?”

“You might say that,” she said, simpering. “What do you want with him?”

“A friend told me he might be able to help me with something. I want to talk to him.”

“With the tip of your little friend there?” she giggled, pointing at the pommel of my sword.

“No, of course not. I just prefer to be ready for contingencies.”

“Well, Keftu, I’m a contingency you didn’t plan for, aren’t I? I’ve got you right where I want you.” She laid her head on my shoulder. When she thought I wasn’t looking, she signaled to the operator to keep the ride going.

“What’s he like, this Pinky?” I asked, anxious to change the subject.

“He’s a small, ugly man who wears loud clothing that’s too big for him. He fancies himself a ladies’ man. His mouth is wide, like an ehmoth’s. There’s a cleft in his chin. His hair is perfumed and pomaded. He looks mean and is mean.”

“You have an eye for detail,” I said. “Why do they call him Pinky?”

“He’s always washing his face. That makes his skin raw, so he covers it up with base, which makes him look, well, pink.”

“And how do you know him?”

“Oh, that’s my little secret,” she giggled. She held up her face to be kissed, but I looked away just in time. The car was slowing again. It came to a stop, and we got off.

“Can we see Pinky now?” I asked as we walked.

“We’re taking the long way around,” said Lydia. “You’re not getting
impatient
, are you? I’m not
boring
you, am I?” She leaned closer, and said viciously: “Because if I am, I’ll just make a little scene, and life will become much more interesting for you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I said. “Just what do you want from me?”

“A little company. Is that so much to ask? Here. Let’s go down Prodigy Alley. I do love to look at a good freak.”

She led me by the hand down a long tent lined with booths. Displayed in each was a man or a woman touched in some way by nature’s disordering finger. Lydia kept giggling and making crude jokes. “You’re so serious,” she chided. “What’s the matter with you? Haven’t you seen freaks before?”

“I have,” I said. “To tell the truth, they bore me. Some men are monsters on the outside. Some are monsters on the inside. How many are out there in that crowd, just walking around, I wonder? If only the secrets of the heart were visible! Now that would be something worth paying to see!”

“Hear, hear, brother!” said a six-fingered man.

“Quiet, you!” hissed Lydia. The man lapsed into a sulky silence.

We went out the far side, stepping into what was apparently the hub of the carnival. There Hex the Inexorable, a six-armed mechanical god, offered oracles through his shapely interpreter, Vera the Virgin. “Come on,” said Lydia, tugging at my hand. “Let’s go get our fortunes told.”

She pulled me up to the interpreter. “Hello,
Vera
,” she said. “We want our oracle.”

Vera made a face but went over without asking for payment. The god began gesticulating its brass arms and emitting puffs of steam and rolling its enameled eyeballs in their sockets. I was reminded of the mechanical image I’d seen in the procession.

Vera came back. “Hex speaks truly, as always,” she said. “The oracle is for the young man.”

“Well, what is it?” demanded Lydia.

“If you see a maugreth tonight, grab it by the scruff of its neck and give it a good beating.”

Lydia turned white and her eyes flashed. “Well,” she spat, “guess I’ll be seeing
you
around,
Vera
. Or maybe not.”

“I guess not,” said Vera. She gazed languidly at me. “Easy come, easy go. Take care of yourself, handsome.”

“Let’s get out of here,” said Lydia, pulling me away. “It’s about time you met Pinky.”

She didn’t talk as we approached the enclosure where the workers lived. The metal buildings gleamed in the light of the huge magnesium torches that lined the perimeter of the carnival. Lydia led me to a small one at the back. “Wait outside,” she said. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”

A moment later she returned. “Good news,” she said. “He’ll see you. You have to leave your sword out here, of course.”

“Very well,” I said. “I’ll leave it with you.” I unthreaded the scabbard and handed it to the girl, then went past her into the building. The room was strongly reinforced and completely empty. The door slammed shut behind me. A bolt shot into place.

“Now that I’ve got you where I want you,” I heard the girl say, “perhaps we can do a little business. Pinky’s been looking for someone like you.”

“You’re making a serious mistake,” I said. Then I added: “Pinky.”

The girl was silent for a moment. “So,” she said. “You guessed. More fool you for getting yourself caught. That’s the first time I—what—what the—oh, my god—Keftu, you have to—
aieee!
”

“Don’t hurt her!” I shouted. “Get me out of here!” There was a tremendous popping of rivets as the roof was rolled back over my head. I leaped up to the top of the wall and swung myself over. Arges was there, holding Lydia in the air by her shift. She was kicking her legs and screaming horribly.

“Hex speaks truly, as always,” I said. “Better quiet down. My friend here won’t like it if you draw attention to us.” Lydia fell limp. “Set her down,” I said. “Let’s move toward the fence to talk.”

44 Sand City

We were beyond the cluster of buildings now. The barren earth was like a lunar landscape under the magnesium torches. “Just what do you want?” Lydia demanded.

“I’m trying to get to the Deserits,” I said. “I’ve been told there might be trouble in the Tartassus. Someone suggested I ask you for help.”

“Why should I help you?” she said.

I nodded toward the cyclops.

“Fine,” she said. “It won’t cost me a rod. Perses the Druin’s your ticket. He’s been looking for a partner to try to get back home. He’s a proud, ill-tempered man. Not sweet, like you. I don’t have any use for him. But he’s your ticket.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “Take us to him.”

“What? Me? Why should I?”

I sighed. “My friend here—”

“Never mind,” she snapped. “Just follow me.”

She led us to a locked gate in the fence and let us out. It was like leaving an enchanted circle. The line of high-rise towers piled on its plateau of masonry blocked the view to the west. Ten thousand twinkling eyes looked unconcernedly over the trough of Sand City. Smoldering kilns and fire pits dotted the urban wasteland. Solitary helots wandered the streets.

Lydia led us under and over railroad tracks, through warehouse yards, around oil sumps. I walked with my hand on the hilt of my sword. Arges stalked silently behind.

“You look like him,” she said. “You must be a Druin, too.”

“As a matter of fact, I’m not.”

“What takes you out to the Deserits?”

“I’d rather not say,” I said. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. She puzzled me. Her manner had changed. She seemed to have suddenly grown up.

“Look,” she said slowly. “I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot. We can let bygones be bygones, can’t we?”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I really have been looking for someone like you. Business hasn’t been doing so well. I don’t know what it is. Helots just don’t come like they used to. I’ve been trying to think of ways to get my profits up. We’ve been running this carnival the same way for who knows how long. We need something new. Something the people haven’t seen before. So I was thinking, processions. You know, like they have for the lottery winners. Only ours would be for, you know, helots, and misfits, and people like that. Sheol! and phylites, too, if they want to come. There would be food, and games, and whatever else we could think of.”

“Sounds great,” I said. “Where do I come in?”

“Well, every procession needs a princeps, right? Wouldn’t you like to be that princeps? You’d be perfect for the part.”

“You flatter me,” I said.

“You flatter yourself,” she replied. “I just have a head for business, that’s all. I know profit when I see it. There’d be room for your friend, too. You don’t have to answer me now. Just think about it.”

“What I said about monsters wasn’t far off the mark,” I said.

She bit her lip. “Was I that obvious?”

“I don’t know if you would be to everyone. I’m an escaped beast-slayer, so I’ve had some experience, as you might say. Your description of Pinky was too detailed to be true. But it was the way you treated the workers that gave you away.”

“
Them
,” the girl said. “They hate me.”

“What do you expect?”

“Well, how else can I treat them? It isn’t as simple as all that. If they respected me they’d cut my throat as soon as look at me. It’s a game. I play the adolescent tyrant. They play the sullen servants. It works. I didn’t ask for all this, you know. My father, that old bastard, died before I could figure something else out. Now it’s the carnival or my life.”

Her second mask had fallen off. Now she was a frightened girl riding a wave too big for her, held hostage by inferiors. Or perhaps they weren’t masks at all, but coequal faces surfacing one after another, like the heads of a hydra.

We were approaching a tenement block beneath the eaves of the metropolis. What appeared a solid prism gradually resolved into an array of towers built against one another and knit into a sort of hive. The air quivered over its crown.

Arges remained outside while I followed Lydia into the building. She led me through a maze of windowless rooms and claustrophobic corridors. We eventually emerged into a quadrangle at the heart of the block, where a tiny stone temple stood on a patch of earth. The grating suspended over its roof was heaped so high with rubbish that it almost blocked out the scrap of sky at the mouth of the well.

She rapped her knuckles on the door. The shutter shot back. Two hazel eyes peered out. “What is it?” the young man demanded. “Is this another one of your tricks?”

“Hello,
Perses
,” she drawled in a voice that was a shade too loud. “This is just my friend Keftu. He’s going your way.”

“Tell him to lose the sword.”

“I’ll hand it in to you,” I said. “I don’t want to leave it out here.”

“Well,” said Lydia, “I’ll leave you boys to yourselves.” She threw her thin arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. “There,” she said. She took a few unsteady steps toward the way out, then turned. “Remember what I said. If you come back this way, drop by to see me. I love you, Keftu.” And then she was gone.

“That girl’s crazy,” said Perses. “You’d do well to keep away from her.”

“So I gathered,” I said. “Here.” I handed Perses my sword hilt-foremost.

He took it, vanished for a moment, then threw back the bolt. “Come in,” he said.

I went past him into the fane, eyeing it covertly while he locked the door. It had been left to itself for a long time but never rifled, its movables being unlikely to excite even a helot’s envy. Perses had made a bedroom of the space beyond the carved reredoes. Dust lay heaped in the corners. Tarnished light fell from tube lamps hidden in the niches of forgotten gods. There was an oil lamp burning on the altar. Deinothax lay beside it.

“Who are you?” Perses demanded, coming up behind me. “What’s your deme?”

“I’m no Druin, if that’s what you mean,” I said. “People always seem to assume that.” I measured my host with my eyes. Perses was the taller and stronger of us, but we could have been brothers for all that, or cousins, at least.

“What do you mean, you’re not a Druin?” he said. “What else could you be?”

I weighed my words carefully before saying simply: “An Arrasene.”

“Ha,” he scoffed. “What do you take me for? Even if there ever were such people as Arrasenes, which I doubt, there aren’t now.”

“That’s almost true, for I am the last of them.”

“Next thing you’ll be putting on airs. Why, I could almost take you for—” He broke off mid-sentence and looked narrowly at me. “So,” he said, “you want to go to the Deserits, and yet you’re not a Druin.”

“I have my reasons,” I said. “They’re honest enough. But, in this city, honesty only seems to get you into trouble. I’m no liar, so I hope you won’t blame me if I remain silent on the point.”

“No, I won’t blame you,” said Perses, slowly circling to my left. “If I were a spy for the Sun Mage, I wouldn’t want to advertise the fact, either.”

“The Sun Mage! Do you know him?”

“I do,” he said, setting his hand on the dagger at his side.

“Without much liking,” I observed.

“There’s little love lost between me and Vaustus. Or his friends.”

“I’m no friend of his. I’ve never even laid eyes on him. But my errand is not unconnected with him. I will tell you that.” I held my hands up, palms outward. “I came here in friendship,” I said. “I’ve handed you my only weapon. My goal is to get to the Deserits. I heard that you need another pair of hands. Well, I can be those hands. All I ask is that my privacy be respected.”

“Fair enough,” said Perses. He relaxed, and his hand dropped from his dagger. He tossed me my sword. “It isn’t as ridiculous as it seems,” he said. “My caution, I mean. Vaustus has a long arm. I’ve learned that if nothing else. He seems to become more powerful the further away you go, but vanishes almost to nothingness when you get within sight of him.” He snorted. “Hands, you say. What I need is your feet, not your hands.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see soon enough. Shades of my fathers! I’m actually going back! Well, I’ve been ready for months. If there’s no objection, we’ll leave tomorrow at dawn.”

“That suits me,” I said. “I’ve heard that we may have trouble getting past the Tartassus Gate.”

“I’ve heard the same,” said Perses. “We’ll just have to see what we see. Have you eaten? I have plenty of stuff if you’re hungry. It’ll just go to waste otherwise.”

“No,” I said. “I have my own. I’ll—”

A noise brought me up short. It was a soft thump, accompanied by the clink of broken ceramics and the dull ring of scrap iron. Perses cocked his head and looked suspiciously at me. “Keftu…” he began.

“I’d forgotten,” I said. “I left a friend out front. He’s probably just wondering where I am.”

Perses’ face became stony. “There’s no room for a third on our journey,” he said. “The car only holds two.”

“That’s a pity, but expected. I need to go talk to him about it.”

“I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind.”

“As you wish,” I said. “But don’t blame me if you don’t like what you see.”

We went out into the quadrangle. A huge bipedal form was outlined against the faint light that filtered through the screen of junk. I approached it with Perses at my heel. “Arges,” I whispered. The cyclops scraped a hole in the trash and peered through. Perses started violently and suppressed a shout.

“Arges,” I said, “I’ve found my way to the east. It won’t be possible for you to come with us. I still fear that there may be trouble soon in the south if I’m not successful. I would have you return as we came. If you have any more of your kind in the area, it would ease my mind if you could gather them. We may need all the help we can get.” We looked silently at one another. “Thank you,” I said. “The descendants of the Phylarch of Arras will be in debt to your descendants until the end of the world as we know it. Farewell.”

Without a noise the giant melted into the shadows. We had a brief glimpse of him scaling the wall like a great white specter, and then he was gone.

“Come,” I said. “I’m going to eat, and then we can bed down for the night.” Perses glowered at me but said nothing.