Synaptic Manhunt (3 page)

On a particularly wide flat expanse of rock, he paused for a moment. He unhitched the supply case from his belt and took a sparing mouthful of water. He looked around, shielding his eyes, and searching for something on the far horizon. He knew that if he was to find the girl A.A. Catto he would have to start by looking for her in the city of Litz. In order to get there he would require a guide. There was a small group of humans who had the power to know where exactly they were in the strange shattered world that had remained after the breakdown. There were certain animals that appeared to have the same faculty. Jeb Stuart Ho knew he would need one of these if he was to make the journey to Litz without much excessive wandering.

If the faculty of location could have been bred or taught, the brotherhood would undoubtedly have produced their own guides. But it seemed to be a completely random gift. All they could do was to keep track of the movements of the various potential guides. Jeb Stuart Ho knew he had been lucky. There was one listed as being in a place on roughly the same plane as the temple. If his calculations had been correct, the shattered landscape he was crossing should be the area where the generator fields of the temple and the place he expected to find the guide failed to overlap completely.

He thought he saw something on the very horizon, but the air shimmered so much where the nothings fought to absorb and destroy it, it was hard to tell. He walked on, and gradually he became positive that there was a tall, dark shape in the distance. After walking a little further it became apparent that the dark shape was a building of some sort. In some ways it was like the temple. It was obviously very tall, and dominated the surrounding landscape in much the same way as the temple. As far as Jeb Stuart Ho could see it didn’t have the clean lines of the temple. Its outline seemed cluttered and fussy.

He knew very little about the place he was going to. The reference had only told him its name. It had said a guide was currently at Wainscot, and given some approximate directions. Jeb Stuart Ho quickened his pace. He could waste no time on the preparatory moves that were needed before he could fulfil his mission.

As he came nearer the dark building, the landscape began to stabilize. It was no more attractive, though, than the borders of the nothings. The rocks did not return to their earlier colours. On the outskirts of Wainscote they were black and shiny. Damp white mist lay in the lower hollows and streamed across the slippery surfaces. No flowers bloomed but here and there twisted, frightened trees clung to the crags. Jeb Stuart Ho saw a dark carrion bird perched on a branch. It eyed him speculatively, but did nothing.

As he drew nearer, he could make out more details of the building itself. To Jeb Stuart Ho’s disciplined mind it appeared a mess. Its base was surrounded by buttresses and porticoes like the exposed roots of some ancient gnarled tree. The main body of the structure was like a stout trunk. It was studded with irregular rows of windows. Most were dark, but a few showed dim, flickering lights. It was topped by an uneven crown of turrets which completed the similarity to a blasted tree by jutting up like stunted branches.

There was an air of gothic gloom that seemed to extend from the house out to the surrounding landscape. The sky had become a deep blue. It gave out no light. That came from an artificial sun that hung brooding behind the turrets, a sullen bloated red. Jeb Stuart Ho involuntarily shuddered, and pulled his cloak more tightly round his shoulders.

Between the rocks he found a rough path that led directly to the house. As he came closer to it, the number of trees increased. More birds, like the one he’d seen earlier, flew high above him in a ragged line. Here and there beside the tracks were other, smaller buildings, cottages or huts. Jeb Stuart Ho peered into a couple of them, but they all seemed to be deserted, and in various stages of decay.

The path opened out as he came closer to the house. The nearer he came, the more he realized exactly how huge the building was. It towered above the surrounding landscape casting a vast, malevolent shadow. A wide area of bare ground littered with rubble and garbage led up to the front of the building. A flight of wide steps gave access to the massive front doors. Jeb Stuart Ho walked quickly across the open space and hurried up the steps. He stopped in front of the double doors. They appeared to have been designed to give access to a race of giants. One of them was slightly open. There was a space just wide enough for Jeb Stuart Ho to slip through. No light came from whatever lay immediately behind. He paused for a moment and ran his fingers over the copper tracery that covered the hard dark wood of the door. Then he slid through the gap, and silently entered Wainscote.

It took a few moments for his eyes to grow accustomed to the gloom. When they did he found that he was in a large hallway. It was deserted, and had the coldness of a place that is rarely used. The few pieces of furniture that were dotted about the flagged expanse of floor seemed like desolate wrecks. They were worn and broken. Garbage had collected in the corners, and the place smelled of damp.

Jeb Stuart Ho moved noiselessly across the hallway towards a wide, and probably once stately, staircase that curved round the far wall. A rapid scuttling sound made him freeze and look round. A pair of small armadillos, disturbed by the unexpected human presence, burrowed for shelter under a collapsed chaise longue. He smiled at their desperate efforts to get away from him. The animals who lived in the temple never displayed such fear and alarm. It was obvious that conditions at Wainscote were very different. He began carefully to climb the stairs. It looked as though the inhabitants of the house must live much further inside the building, and rarely visit the outer areas.

The top of the staircase opened out into a large gallery, which, like the hall below, showed the ravages of neglect. A rat peered out from behind a length of rotting curtain and fled squealing at the sight of the dark figure that had invaded its domain, More squeals and rustles came from inside the walls, as the news of the intruder circulated through the rat community.

A number of corridors led off the gallery. They were dim, bare and uninviting, each one identical to the next. Jeb Stuart Ho knew that he could only make a random choice. The middle one looked as though it might possibly lead more directly to the interior of the house. He started down it, still watchful for any sign of life.

Nothing happened for a long while. Jeb Stuart Ho walked patiently on, past occasional doorways that opened into more empty, deserted rooms. All he could do was follow the twists and turns of the corridor until it reached its ultimate destination. If it ended in a blind alley, he would simply go back and try one of the others. His information said that he would find his guide inside this building, and temple information was nearly always accurate.

After walking for some minutes, he came to a point where the corridor made a right-angle turn. Jeb Stuart Ho had become less careful. The unchanging corridor didn’t seem very hostile. As he turned the corner he saw a dark figure coming towards him at the far end of the passage. His protective senses came to life, and he sprang lightly back, pressing himself against the wall. The figure did exactly the same thing. Slowly, Jeb Stuart Ho moved away from the wall. Again the other figure matched his own movements. He smiled as he realized that it must be an image of himself. The entire end of the corridor was one large mirror.

Then someone laughed. Jeb Stuart Ho spun round, his hands flashing to the hilt of his sword. A girl stood leaning in the doorway of one of the empty rooms. Her hair was very black and hung almost to her waist. It partially hid her small pale face, but Jeb Stuart Ho noticed that it was like that of a self-indulgent child, and only the dark shadows under her eyes gave away her real age. That and her body. Even in the long red satin dress it couldn’t be mistaken for anything but that of a mature young woman. He lowered the sword. She laughed again.

‘You look a little ridiculous.’

‘Ridiculous?’

No one had ever called Jeb Stuart Ho ridiculous before.

‘Jumping at your own reflection. Pulling out that sword.’

‘I’m sorry. I was being careful, that’s all.’

The girl moved towards him. He saw she had an ornamented goblet of some kind of white metal in her right hand. She raised it to her mouth and sipped from it. Her movements seemed very controlled and deliberate. She swayed a little as she walked. It was as though she was very drunk, but also very accustomed to it.

‘Did you drift away from the party?’

‘There is a party?’

‘There’s always a party. Everyone knows that. How is it that you don’t know it?’

‘I have only just arrived here.’

‘You came from outside?’

‘Yes, I came from outside.’

‘You’re not making it up?’

‘What reason would I have for making up something like that?’

‘Some people will do anything to draw attention to themselves.’

‘I don’t want attention.’

‘Most people do.’

‘Do you?’

The girl fiddled with, her drink.

‘I suppose so. I’m no different to the rest.’

‘Then why do you come to these empty rooms? There’s no one to see you here.’

‘They frighten me.’

‘That would seem a reason to stay away from them.’

‘I like to be frightened now and then. Don’t you? Don’t you enjoy a thrill of fear?’

Jeb Stuart Ho carefully put away his sword.

‘I don’t think so. I’ve never considered fear as a source of enjoyment.’

‘It can be terribly exciting.’

There was a long pause while Jeb Stuart Ho considered this new concept. The girl took the chance to move up close to him.

‘Are you going to rape me?’

Jeb Stuart Ho raised his eyebrows.

‘What is rape?’

‘You don’t know what rape is?’

He shook his head.

‘It’s not a term I’m familiar with.’

‘You’re teasing me?’

‘No.’

‘You really don’t know what rape means?’

‘No.’

‘It’s when a man forces a woman to have sex with him against her will.’

‘Why should he do that?’

The girl looked at him as though she was talking to an idiot.

‘He enjoys it, of course. There’s usually an element of brutality involved.’

‘Why should anyone enjoy hurting another person?’

The girl shrugged.

‘I don’t know why exactly, but there’s plenty who do.’

‘Know why?’

‘Enjoy hurting people. There’s plenty of people who enjoy pain, for that matter.’

Jeb Stuart Ho shook his head.

‘I’m not sure I understand.’

The girl gestured towards the weapons hanging under his cloak.

‘You look like you ought to. You could kill a lot of people with that stuff.’

‘I’m trained to kill. It is my vocation. I am aware it may be necessary at times, but I don’t enjoy the act.’

‘Then why do it?’

‘We all have to do things we don’t enjoy.’

‘I don’t, why should I? I don’t think I’m enjoying this conversation any more.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s not your fault. I don’t enjoy many things for long. I get bored.’

‘I thought you said you didn’t do anything you don’t enjoy.’

‘That’s right. I don’t.’

‘But …’

‘There are times when I don’t do anything. I frequently don’t do anything. I think I’ll go back to the party now. I’m bored with being out here.’

She looked up at Jeb Stuart Ho.

‘Do you want to go to the party?’

He shook his head.

‘I have to find someone.’

‘Who?’

‘I have information that there is a guide somewhere in this place.’

The girl laughed. It was short, sharp and with a trace of a sneer.

‘I should have guessed you’d be after him. There are always people coming from outside looking for him. They usually want him to take them somewhere. You’re wasting your time, you know. He never goes. He won’t do it any more.’

‘Why is that? Surely it is his gift? A man cannot turn his back on his gift.’

‘He can. He finds it really easy. Ever since he got into sensory deprivation he’s found it really easy.’

Jeb Stuart Ho’s face formed itself into a look of grim patience.

‘He will go this time.’

The Minstrel Boy could feel something and he didn’t like it. Something was reaching into his cosy cocooned tank. Something touched him. He’d felt nothing for so long that it affected his nerves. He twisted away from it, and the pads over his eyes slipped. Light smashed into his head. The Minstrel Boy went rigid. Every response silently screamed. His legs kicked convulsively. The touch came again. It was more deliberate this time. It was a hand. It was reaching for the drip feed. It was trying to remove it from his arm.

Anger exploded inside the Minstrel Boy. It was intolerable. Someone was actually interfering with him, bringing him back to reality. His privacy was being invaded. His consciousness was being changed against his will. What gave anyone the right to mess with him like that?

In one violent move he surfaced. He sat up inside the coffin-shaped cubicle. It was the only thing in the high stone turret room. He tore the headphones from his ears. The amplified sound of his own circulation abruptly stopped.

‘What the fuck …’

The real world crashed in on him. He felt sick and dropped back on to the cushioned interior of the coffin. He tried it a little more gently this time. Carefully he opened his eyes again. The light still hurt, but it was bearable. He found that he could see. He didn’t like what he saw.

A tall thin man in a black cloak was standing beside the black steel coffin. The clear plastic feeder tube was still in his hand. The Minstrel Boy sat up, slowly and carefully this time.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing? What makes you think you can walk in here and drag me down to your level?’

Jeb Stuart Ho looked calmly at the Minstrel Boy.

‘I have need of you.’

The Minstrel Boy’s first response was to try to damage this stranger who had caused him so much pain. He checked the impulse when he saw the array of weapons hung around the man’s body. Instead, he rested an arm on the side of the coffin and curled his lip.