Dream London (23 page)

The thing was, I wasn’t sure where else to go. Daddio Clarke was sure to have Belltower End staked out. The smartest thing to do would be to get away from the city for a while and lay low, but of course that option no longer applied. You couldn’t escape Dream London.

We left the wide open space and headed down an evening-lit street in search of a taxi. Couples out for an evening stroll lined the pavements, and the poets and musicians were emerging. Somewhere nearby I heard the sound of an accordion. Then a harsh voice barked out:

“I spy a soldier!”

It was hard to miss the man who spoke the words. He wore a scarlet jacket covered in silver braid; his tight black trousers were tucked into polished black boots that passed his knees.

“Well?” he said. “Am I right, sir?”

“I was a soldier,” I admitted, looking down at my bright green military jacket. “Not any more.”

“Once a soldier, always a soldier, sir! I knew it! You can’t fool me!”

Now I saw the desk, tucked back in a shop doorway. A man and a woman dressed in similarly old fashioned costumes. Both were good looking, though my eye was naturally drawn towards the woman, the way her long curly blonde hair spilled down, the way she filled her jacket, the way the stripes on her white trousers curved over her hips.

“I see you’ve noticed Gloria, sir!” He nudged me in the ribs. “What soldier wouldn’t?” Gloria was standing to attention; her brown eyes slid to meet mine and she gave me a saucy wink before resuming eyes-front. “Plenty more like her in the Dream Londoners!”

“The Dream Londoners?”

“Prospect Tower First Infantry, ma’am!” The soldier gave Bill a second look: she was dressed like a whore, after all. “Ladies like yourself are always welcome there, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” demanded Bill.

“Prospect Tower First Infantry?” I said. “Why does a tower need an army? Is there a war?”

The soldier laughed. “Not that I know of, sir. But there are other places. Sail up the river and you’re in other lands. They’re always in need of people to keep the peace. Old soldier like you would be welcome in the regiment, sir.”

“I don’t fight anymore.”

The man held out a hand, fingers spread wide, and waggled it back and forth.

“Not much fighting, really. Most of the time we keep the peace. There’re a lot of primitive people down the river. We do our bit to bring a bit of civilisation to them.”

“What people?” asked Bill. “You mean humans, like us?”

“Weeeeelll,” said the soldier, shaking his hand. “It’s debatable as to whether they’re like us, isn’t it? I mean, look what we’ve achieved. Cities and books and things like that. The people down the river, well, they just live in little huts. It’s not like they’re like us, is it?”

“I meant, do they have two arms and legs. Are they humanoid?”

I thought about Mr Monagan, the orange frog who insisted he was a man.

“Oh yes. They’re humanoid. Quite good workers some of them, when you can get them to understand what you want. Can be really quite on the ball, when they want to be. That’s what I mean sir...” He turned back to me, effectively dismissing Bill. “Sign up today and you could get yourself dressed up in a smart uniform like this! Girls like a man in uniform...” He winked again.

I was tempted, there was no denying it. Sign up, sail up the river and live the life of Reilly, lording it over the savages. The uniform, the women, the chance to make a little on the side. It would be just like the old days... But what would I really be letting myself in for? I’d be astonished if this man was telling me the full truth.

“I’m sorry,” I said, regretfully. “I’m not interested.”

“Come on, sir. Tell me that you’re busy, tell me that you are earning more at the moment, tell me that you’ve got commitments, but don’t tell me that you’re not interested! Old soldier like you. Admit it, you miss it, don’t you?”

“No...”

“Come on, you miss the camaraderie. Just think about it, sir, sailing up the river with your mates, new lands to explore. And that’s not all...”

He stopped, clapped his hand over his mouth.

“Sorry sir, said too much. Only, well, listen sir. I shouldn’t tell you this, but I can trust you, can’t I? Old soldier and everything?”

Bill rolled her eyes, the soldier ignored her.

“Only, well, there are rumours, you know how it is, the word is, that well,” he came closer, lowered his voice, “face it sir, it’s obvious. This is just the beginning. The Spiral is only part of it. You’ve heard what’s happening in the parks, haven’t you?”

“Tell me,” said Bill, suddenly alert. “What’s happening in the parks?”

“Not for your ears, ma’am!” He leant closer to me again. “But you know something’s up, sir. No one can get near them! Something big is happening there, sir. Something that will make the river redundant. A new way to the other lands, sir! And I tell you what, when that happens, they’re going to need a lot more soldiers! I tell you what, sir, sign up now and get yourself established. Get yourself promoted and dug in. Get yourself behind the counter in the quartermaster’s stores where you can get your hands in the honey, a little for you, a little for the troops. Things fall off the back of the lorry, and into a smart man’s bag. You know how it works, sir. You know how it works...”

I looked at Bill; her eyes were alive with interest.

“I’m convinced!” she said. “Where do I sign?”

“Are you sure, Bill?” I said. Was that the truth? Was she still under the effect of the Script?

The soldier laughed.

“She’s got some balls, sir! I’ll say that! How about you? You wouldn’t let the lady join on her own, would you?”

He took Bill’s hand and led her to the desk by which the other two soldiers stood. Gloria smiled at me as I approached. She more than smiled at me; she made it perfectly clear how she was interested in me.

The recruiting sergeant sat at the desk and opened a leather folder. He pulled out two sheets of yellow paper and laid them on the desk. Bill took one and examined it.

“I can’t read the writing at the bottom,” she said.

“Don’t worry about that,” said the recruiting sergeant.

“And I’ve never heard of some of these names.
Cleronic Bovaclus, Valvius Methostophile.
Some of these words aren’t even written in any script I recognise.”

I picked up the other one of the sheets, and looked at some of the strange letters inscribed upon it. Not in black ink, but of a colour that seemed to shimmer like a beetle shell, and all of a sudden strange numbers were swimming before my eyes. Reds and greens and the other numbers from the tower. At the same time I felt someone gently stroke my bottom. I smelt perfume, and Gloria leant closer to me, her long blonde hair tickling my face.

“Pen, sir? Pen, madam?” said the recruiting sergeant, smiling as he held out one in each hand.

Despite myself, I was reaching out to take one. As I did, it seemed to me that a fresh wind blew from the sealed shop doorway behind him. I smelt grass and the sea.

I would have signed there and then if Bill hadn’t suddenly laughed loudly.

“Oh yes,” she said. “It doesn’t affect me so much. I am new here after all.”

“Excuse me, miss?”

“The flowers you have in your pocket, Sergeant. And you too, Gloria. Look at Jim here. He’s quite bewitched!”

I shook my head. She was right.

“And I feel so much better,” she said. “Completely back to normal.” She glared at me.

“Oh, that’s good,” I said. With some effort, I placed the paper back down on the desk. “I think I need to go and think about this.”

“Not to worry, sir, I’ll be here all week.” The Sergeant winked at me. “And so will Gloria!” he added.

T
HE SKY WAS
darkening, blue ink seeping down from above. The air was filling with the smell of flowers, and the birds chirruped and squawked their evening messages.

“You wanted to go,” said Bill.

“It was the flowers.”

“Do you always run away when things get tough?”

“Why do you say that?”

“You left the army. You’re thinking of abandoning Alan and the Cartel.”

“I told you, you don’t know what it’s like in that house.”

There was a beef stand up ahead.

“Two please,” I said, holding up two fingers. “And two teas.”

“I hate the way you Brits drink tea, strong and milky.”

“There’s a coffee stand further along.”

We watched as the vendor sliced beef from a joint onto two slices of bread.

“Onionsmustardhorseradish?” he asked.

“Yes please,” I said.

“And me.”

The vendor wrapped the sandwiches in paper and handed them across. Two cups of tea were placed on the edge of his barrow.

“Polystyrene cups,” said Bill. “How appropriate.”

I took a bite of the sandwich, hot greasy paper on my fingers. It tasted so good...

A hand snatched the sandwich from me. I spun around, ready to throw a punch at whoever had stolen my meal, and came face to face with a wide-eyed Mr Monagan.

“Oh, Mr James! I looked all over for you! Come now! Come now, Mr James! It’s urgent!”

“Calm down, Mr Monagan. Just calm down! What’s the matter?”

“It’s Belltower End, Mr James! The Daddio is there! He’s set it on fire!”

GREEN

DREAM LONDON ZOO

M
R
M
ONAGAN LED
me through the darkening streets towards Belltower End. Ahead I caught glimpses of flames licking at the purple sky. Soft white ash rained down upon me.

“What happened?” I gasped as I jogged along.

“Three big men and a little girl, Mister James. They came along and stood in the square. The little girl was laughing.”

“Honey Peppers,” I said.

“They’d brought your friend along. He’d been badly beaten.”

“My friend?” I said, already guessing the answer. “Who?”

“Second Eddie.”

Second Eddie. So he hadn’t betrayed me after all.

“Is he okay?”

“No, Mister James.” Mr Monagan was silent for a moment. “He’s dead.”

“Dead,” I said. I staggered as I ran, unbalanced by the shock. “How?”

“It’s a horrible story, Mister James. Horrible! You see, when the little girl came, no one paid her any attention. One of the girls went to help your friend, but no one else seemed to care. They were too busy enjoying themselves. The little girl didn’t like that. She shouted out for everyone to listen, but no one did. She stamped her foot and one of the clients laughed and then one of the big men hit him.”

“The Quantifiers. They’re called Quantifiers.”

Mr Monagan seemed unphased by the running. He loped along at my side with his strange frog-like gait.

“The little girl told everyone they had three minutes to get out of the buildings. She said that the Moston girls were her property and they should come to her, and that everyone else could just...”

He was embarrassed.

“I can imagine what she said,” I panted. The street here was the consistency of tar. It clung to my feet as I ran. “She’s not a nice little girl.”

“She’s not, Mister James. She’s not. Still everyone ignored her, despite her appalling language. No-one did anything. Some of the girls looked out of the windows. A lot of the men just drifted away, or headed back up to the rooms. The little girl lost her temper.”

“I can imagine.”

“She stamped her foot again. She told the Quantifiers to stop just standing there and to start burning.”

We turned a corner, ran into a haze of ash. I wiped my face and went on running.

“The Quantifiers picked up big barrels. They must have brought them there with them. Oh, Mr James! The barrels contained yellow liquid. They splashed it over the buildings. Where it touched stone, it burned! The stone burned away like wood! They took Second Eddie, and oh, Mr James! They pushed him into the fire. A spark jumped on his hand. Just one spark, and he burnt away, just like that. Like a spark jumping from a fire. He was there and then he was gone!”

I was gasping for air now. I slowed to a walk. It would do little good to arrive there exhausted.

“The little girl said it was to send a message to you, Mister James. She said it was to show that you couldn’t protect your property.”

“I can’t,” I said.

“Everyone began to panic then. They screamed, they pushed each other out of the way. The men, the way they mistreated the girls, just to get away, Mister James! They were no gentlemen. The little girl stood in the square and just laughed as the girls began to run from the buildings. The flames, Mister James! The flames! They jumped so high!”

“The girls! My girls! Are they alright?”

“The girls? No, Mr James! They aren’t. Catherine and Gemma and Caroline and Julie and Margaret! All of them caught in the flames! I heard them screaming, Mr James. Screaming! And the men in there with them! They screamed too! And the little girl just laughed!”

Anger gave me energy. I began to run once more.

“The Quantifiers made sure the Moston girls were all safe, though. But then they just stood in the middle of the square, giggling, getting in the way. They tried to hug the Quantifiers, but the Quantifiers slapped them. I don’t think the Quantifiers are very friendly.”