At last admitting she was lost, Carol decided
her best option was to continue in what she by now could only hope
was the right direction and pray that she would soon come upon a
familiar landmark. In the meantime, though being careful would slow
her down, she would have to try to keep out of sight. In one way,
it would be easy enough to do. There was almost no one abroad to
notice her. On the other hand, if any of the civil guards came
along they would see her at once and she would be arrested.
“I hate this,” she muttered under her breath.
“I used to walk all over this part of London without worrying about
meeting policemen. Then, I thought of the police as friends and
protectors of honest citizens. What a disgusting world this has
become. And if I don’t get back to Marlowe House soon, Nik will be
so upset. My absence might even cause him to delay the beginning of
his plan. Where in this messed-up city is Marlowe House? Oh, at
last!”
This exclamation burst from her as she walked
into an open square. Almost immediately she saw it was not the
square she sought. Here, the houses were not damaged. There were no
piles of rubble for her to pick her way around, but instead a
smoothly paved street. The square itself contained no World Tree.
What Carol saw was a collection of large vehicles parked in neat
rows filling up most of the open space. Each of these machines
looked as if it could transport six or eight people
comfortably.
“Limousines,” Carol said, peering through a
windshield to look inside one of them. “Not exactly like the
twentieth-century version, but so luxurious they couldn’t be
anything else.”
It did not take much guesswork to discover
the reason why so many limousines were parked in one place. In one
of the fine houses fronting the square there was a party in
progress.
After ducking behind a car so she would not
be seen, Carol made a quick survey of the area. There was a bonfire
at the side of the square most distant from her, and around the
blaze a group of men stood or sat. From their neat outfits in
various dark colors, very different from ordinary clothing, these
men appeared to be the chauffeurs of the parked limousines,
awaiting the call to drive their employers home at the end of the
evening. They had a good supply of food and drink available, and
were talking and singing rather loudly. A half-dozen men in the
brown uniform of the civil guards kept a casual watch on them.
Unlike the neighborhood around Marlowe House,
here there was electricity. The square was well lit by ornate
street lamps and every house blazed with light. Directly in front
of Carol was the mansion in which the party was being held. Through
the wide front windows she could see people moving about inside.
Curiosity making her bolder, she lifted her head to look over the
top of the car.
That the rooms inside the house were warm was
obvious from the clothing worn by the women present. Sheer, gauzy
gowns revealed arms and throats and, in several cases, great
expanses of snowy bosoms. All the women flaunted glittering
earrings, necklaces, bracelets, rings, and tiaras. The men were
adorned with heavy, jeweled gold or silver chains over their
costumes of tunics and tight trousers, and their hands were
glittering with colorful rings. After days of seeing only dark and
tattered garments on everyone she met, Carol’s eyes were briefly
dazzled by the many bright colors confined within the silk-covered,
gilt-trimmed walls of that room.
People were still arriving. The front door of
the mansion was wide open to admit the guests, though a pair of
uniformed guards stood on the step, keeping a sharp watch on all
who entered. Trying to see better, Carol changed her position,
creeping along the side of one of the parked cars, keeping her head
low when a new set of headlights swung into the square.
The occupant of the newly arrived limousine
was the Leader, Fal, who had been at the Solstice ceremonies. Fal
climbed out of the car somewhat awkwardly. He was still wearing the
unbecoming bright green tunic and trousers in which he had attended
the late afternoon ceremony, but in the interval since then he had
added several heavy gold chains around his neck, each chain bearing
a jeweled medallion. At the Leader’s appearance, the civil guards
at the entrance all snapped to attention—and jumped again when the
second person in the car alighted. This man was plainly dressed in
a brown uniform and no extra adornments. Recognizing the commander
of the civil guards, the very man she least wanted to meet, Carol
quickly lowered her head. Almost immediately, compelled by a
terrible fascination, she once again peered over the hood of the
car behind which she was hiding.
In contrast to Leader Fal’s short roundness,
the commander was tall and slim. His uniform, combined with his
pale face and starkly slicked-back brown hair, made him look to
Carol’s eyes like a dangerous thug. It horrified her that out of
all the streets in ruined Lond, she should have fled away from him
to the one place where he would be. There seemed to her to be some
unearthly design in this near meeting. Nor was her apprehension
eased by the conversation she now overheard.
“Come on, Drum,” she heard Leader Fal say to
the commander in a querulous voice. “I have repeatedly told you,
there is nothing to be concerned about. It is just a rumor, and we
have heard many rumors of possible trouble before this. None of
them have meant anything. Neither does this rumor. Put extra guards
on the streets and then forget it.”
“I know every person in that area by sight,”
the man called Drum responded. “Yet twice I have spotted a stranger
there. What does it mean?”
“It probably means,” said Leader Fal, “that
someone invited a country cousin to the city for the holiday. I
will wager every chain I am wearing that you never see your
mysterious stranger again.”
“I have learned to trust my instincts,”
Commander Drum insisted. “First a persistent rumor, and then
someone out of place, someone who evokes a most violent reaction in
my heart.”
“I didn’t know you had a heart.” Leader Fal
laughed in an insinuating way. “Tell me, was this stranger a man or
a woman?”
“What difference does that make?” Commander
Drum snarled, displaying a remarkable lack of respect for his
Leader. “I recognize trouble when I encounter it and I tell you, I
have twice in two days smelled trouble in that square.”
“And I tell you, we can easily handle any
problem that may arise. Now, will you kindly allow me to attend the
party being given in my honor? Really, Drum, you are worse than
those womanish priests. The people are well subdued and will remain
where they belong— at the bottom of our social ladder. They have
their little entertainments and I have done my part on their behalf
on this day. Now I want to relax.”
“If you are wise,” said Commander Drum, “you
will never relax your vigilance.”
“No, no, Drum,” Fal corrected him. “Vigilance
is your task. Mine is to lead.”
Still grumbling at each other, the two men
climbed the steps, where the guards stood at stiff attention until
they entered the house. They left Carol desperate with fear, for
she had finally recognized Commander Drum. It was little wonder she
had not done so before. His face was greatly changed from that of
the man she had once known and, in her youthful innocence, believed
she loved. But in his cold and disrespectful attitude toward Leader
Fal and in the flat blankness of his eyes, Carol had just seen the
spirit of the man she had hoped never to meet again.
Robert Drummond
. She did not think he
had seen her just now, but all the same, Carol began to tremble as
if the man were deliberately pursuing her across the centuries.
She now had serious cause to fear for Nik and
for her friends at Marlowe House. She was not surprised to hear
from his own lips confirmation that she had been noticed by
Commander Drum, but she was deeply disturbed to learn that there
were rumors circulating about trouble in the immediate future. She
did not think anyone in Nik’s group would betray him by accident or
by deliberate plan, but she did not know the people in the other
groups who were to join Nik and his friends. It was possible that
someone, having taken too much strong drink during the Solstice
celebrations, had let slip a word too much about the scheduled
uprising.
Carol knew she ought to leave the square at
once and try to locate Marlowe House as quickly as possible so she
could warn Nik. But first she wanted to see if she might learn
anything more. Carefully she worked her way forward until she
crouched behind the car nearest to the windows of the mansion.
Another pair of late arrivals was at the door, diverting the
attention of the guards, and the men at the far side of the square
were paying no heed at all to the partygoers. Carol stood up and
craned her neck to see inside the house.
In the warm, gilt-decorated room a band of
musicians was playing a tune she could not hear. There were flowers
everywhere, huge vases of them set on the floor and towering six
feet high and other, smaller vases placed on tables or on chests.
In one corner of the room potted palms and miniature trees were
arranged around a splashing fountain of white marble. Within this
artificial bower a few guests strolled, talking and laughing and,
occasionally, pausing to exchange lengthy kisses and the sort of
caresses that are usually reserved for more private places.
“And Marlowe House gets one hour per day of
running water,” Carol growled angrily, glaring at the fountain.
Elsewhere in the large room guests were
helping themselves from a long buffet table set against one wall.
It was this table that next caught and held Carol’s attention.
Staring at it, she swore under her breath at what she beheld.
The cloth was made from some glittering,
gold-colored fabric and most of the dishes were gold or silver.
There was a giant haunch of roasted meat, which a servant was
carving. There were baskets of fine white bread, and bowls of
salads and vegetables, and platters of various meats already sliced
for the taking. Entire poached fishes lay on nests of shredded
green leaves. The centerpiece of this display of culinary splendor
was a huge golden compote piled high with oranges, grapes,
pomegranates, and peaches, the whole extravagant design stuck
through at intervals with long branches of fresh purple orchids and
topped with the largest pineapple Carol had ever seen.
It was the fruit that did it, that made her
so angry she wanted to throw a rock through the window. The
unfairness of the scene before her struck Carol like a blow to the
stomach. While Jo was forced to bargain for a bony chicken that was
meant to feed no more than two or three people at most but that had
to be stretched to fill a dozen hungry stomachs for a Solstice
feast, while Bas made soup out of the leftovers and spoke of having
eaten only one orange in his life, in a world in which Lin could
not afford to buy even a single holiday treat for her child, these
people, the so-called Leaders, were living in decadent luxury. And
denying it to others. Refusing to share what they had. They even
rationed the water supply to ordinary folk.
No wonder they needed squads of civil guards
to keep the peace. No wonder Nik and others of like mind were
planning to revolt.
“I will do everything I can to help them,”
Carol vowed.
“Hey, you! What are you doing there?” One of
the guards at the far side of the square had seen her. His voice
rang out with absolute assurance that he would be obeyed. “Come
over here at once.”
For the space of a heartbeat Carol did not
move. She stood frozen where she was, not looking toward the guard
who’d ordered her to present herself to him, but still with her
gaze fixed on the scene inside the mansion.
“I said, come here!” The guard raised his
voice a notch. The two guards standing at the mansion entrance
turned their attention toward the rows of parked limousines,
searching for a view of the miscreant who did not jump in instant
response to an order from one of their comrades.
Inside the brightly lit house Commander Drum
paused on his way to the buffet table, turned, and headed for the
wide front window as if a sound from outside had penetrated the
luxurious warmth of the party. He stopped by the window to peer out
into the square.
Carol thought he saw her. She was still
standing upright with one hand resting on the hood of the limousine
behind which she had been sheltering. Across the darkness she
looked right into Drum’s eyes. Cold possessed her, a chill more
bitter and heart-numbing even than Lady Augusta’s embrace. In that
moment Carol knew how a trapped rabbit felt, paralyzed, terrified,
unable to do anything but wait for the hunter to pounce.
And then a noisy group of revelers surged
into the square, half a dozen of them, laughing and singing. Some
carried wine bottles. All were well dressed. They headed for the
mansion where the party was being held and demanded entrance of the
guards at the door.
With the arrival of these newcomers the
terrifying spell holding Carol in her place was broken. She could
move again, and she did so. Down behind the cars she went and,
keeping her head low, ran out of the square by the way she had come
into it.
Once in the narrower side streets, she no
longer worried about discovery or about which direction she took.
Pursued by the sound of booted feet, she simply fled as fast as she
could, turning corners so she would be out of sight, squeezing
herself into tiny spaces between buildings, slipping into dark
alleys. When she suddenly found herself at the brink of a narrow
canal, she jumped over it without a thought and kept running. Once
she disturbed a little knot of people in ragged clothes who huddled
in a lightless arcade.