London Wild (14 page)

It was Amba who had come to the rescue. She had avoided the auditions because she didn’t think she had the skill to act as a human. She found it hard enough just going shopping, even when her husband was there with her. She told him that there was no way she could be anything other than the Herbaht she was while she was on stage.

And so it was that when Amba performed, she did so without even a whisper of makeup. She was attached to the stage by a small chain that was looped around her leg for the apparent security of the audience. Not that the audience ever felt too worried by her. No one had ever claimed that she was domesticated, and yet it was assumed that offstage she was Joseph’s pet.

And so tonight, nearly seven years after they had formed, they were performing in a small community hall on the outskirts of West Horndon.

Amba performed from the center of the stage
, as per normal. The chain held her leg, and tonight there was also a collar around her neck to add to the illusion that she was domesticated. Amba didn’t play any instrument, but she could dance and usually did so in front of the rest of the band, inciting the fans to dance along with her. Sometimes when a song needed a female vocal, she would use the microphone placed at the front of the stage for her.

Jhosatl stood just behind her. He played the stringed instruments and usually had a small array placed at the back of the stage
, as certain numbers required different instruments. Jhosatl liked to stay close to his wife as much to protect her as anything.

Then there were the three human member
s of the group. Judith Martin played the keyboards. She tended to prefer the more modern keyboards such as the Grego Organ, but she would attempt to play anything with keys from the harpsichord on. Her hair was black and flowed over her shoulders to stop just below them. She looked a little thin for her height, and she seemed to enjoy wearing black, at least when she was on the stage. Her fingernails were always painted a bright red with glitter highlights, and Amba had often wondered how long it took to get them looking so immaculate. She had been the first of the three humans to be recruited by Jhosatl. Indeed, she had been taken on before Jhosatl had really gotten the hang of pretending to be human, and there had been occasions when he slipped. Judith had never said anything at the time, and maybe she hadn’t really noticed. Or maybe it was something she had filed away for future use. Who knew how a human thought?

Colin Morris was an expert when it came to drums; at least
, he claimed he was. His hair was blond, and he had the blue eyes to go with it. He liked the dark colored casual-looking clothing for the concerts, though it was the small beard that most people noticed. He had been the second to be recruited, by which time Jhosatl had ironed out most of his acting problems. He now spoke and thought like a human. Colin was not as good a choice for the band as Jhosatl had hoped he would be. Colin hated Herbaht. He would never say why, but many humans had good personal reasons for such hatred, while others tended to hate them simply because they feared them. Colin wasn’t a good person to try bridging gaps with. Indeed, in the early days of the group he would stare at the back of Amba as she performed, fuming and taking out his anger on the drums. On more than one occasion Jhosatl had thought of replacing him, but Colin was almost as excellent as he had claimed with the drums, despite his hate.

The third human and last to join the group was Sult. If he had another name
, he never seemed to use it. Sult played nearly any instrument that had been made, though he was an expert with none of them. His favorite instrument, when occasion allowed, was the flute. Sult’s head was shaved, and most noticeably, one of his eyes was missing its pupil. There was a small yet nasty-looking scar from that eye diagonally across to his nose, though not actually on his nose. There had been many rumors about Sult’s past, many of them ridiculous, including the one about him having been some sort of mercenary.

The concert seemed to be going well
; the group had played lots of their favorites and was encouraging the audience to sing or dance along. A few of the audience members joined the band onstage. With no bouncer to throw them off again, they were free to dance and, in many cases, touch their idols. Only Sult jerked away when they tried to touch him; he wasn’t a very tactile person. On the other hand, Jhosatl had been known to punch someone before because they had gotten a little too fresh with his wife.

As the clock at the back of the hall reached nine, the party was in full swing. Not that anyone could see the clock—the place had been darkened to highlight the stage better. Other than the oddly colored lights that swung back and forth rhythmically across the audience, they were in darkness. The audience was dancing and trying to reach the stage, trying to get as close as they could to the music until it was too deafening for them to even hear themselves sing along to the songs. At this time the back half of the hall was totally empty.

The night sight of the Herbaht was nothing like as good as that of the four-legged house
cat, but it was a lot better than that of humans. It was Amba who first noticed the four figures hanging right at the back of the hall. From what she could see, they appeared to be wearing uniforms. They were projecting shadows onto the wall behind them, and the hats on the shadows all seemed to be the same shape. When the colored light flicked back across the audience and illuminated one of them for a second, Amba knew instantly who they were. The uniforms weren’t exactly correct, yet Amba was sure: they were of the Elite Guard
.

Amba stopped singing for a moment
, forgetting where she was. The others, especially her husband, noticed and tried to cover for her as best they could. It was only a second or two after she stopped before she started singing again. But her voice trembled, and the audience started to look at her strangely and then around the hall itself, searching for the cause of this sudden change.

The Elite Guard could be here for any number of reasons. Maybe they were checking up on the precautions being taken to protect the audience from her. Whatever they were here for
, though, it had to be something to do with her.

The concert would end at ten and then she would find out why they were here. Surely it couldn’t be anything too bad. She really wasn’t a danger to the crowd
, and the chain was easily enough to satisfy any safety issues. But then her thoughts turned darker. What if they had seen through the act and they knew she wasn’t really domesticated?

The crowd began to settle down as her voice became more natural. Some of them glanced around at the four uniformed figures at the back
, and one or two even went to investigate further. Maybe her fans would help her get away. Maybe, like her, the crowd was considering the possibilities as to why the soldiers had even come here.

As the time reached a quarter to ten, Amba started them of
f on a medley of three-minute songs, trying to inch the clock closer to the ten o’clock deadline. Then at about two minutes to ten, just as Jhosatl was about to announce their last song of the evening, Amba started to sing the first words of the longest piece of music she knew. It was supposed to have a musical intro, but Amba didn’t care; she wanted to delay the end of the concert as far as she possibly could. The others caught up quickly and played the rest of it while she sang.  The piece was normally thirty-four minutes long, the missed intro alone being over five minutes long, but Amba made up for it by holding many words longer than normal and slowing the song down as much as she felt she could get away with. 

Jhosatl nodded across at his wife. He too had seen the uniforms at the back of the hall
, and they worried him too. The Elite were supposedly able to see right through any disguise a Herbaht might wear, and he was beginning to feel a little exposed himself. If necessary, he carried a laser pistol in a hidden pocket in his sleeve when he was onstage, but the chances of one Herbaht holding out against four trained
Elite weren’t high.

It was fortunate
for Amba that this was a sad song, because she found that she had started to cry as the song got further along. Time was ticking and there seemed to be no way to stop it.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe their presence here had nothing to do with her.
Yet her mind, having already taken a step down that road, insisted that they were here for her. Besides, the only other reason she could imagine that they might be here was for her husband. She’d much rather go with them if it meant protecting him. The idea that they might simply have come along to listen to the music simply never occurred to her. From the way they were staying at the back of the hall and dressed in their uniforms as they were, their appearance definitely looked official.

The song eventually came to an end just after half past ten. Even Amba hadn’t been able to stop it ending
, but she tried to sing them straight into another song. She would probably keep singing all night, if she could, if it might save her.

The others didn’t join her in the song.
She stopped after the third word and looked around at her husband almost accusingly.

He learned across and whispered, ‘We only have the hall until eleven. We need to have the place tidy by then, all the chairs away, the litter
, et cetera. We’re supposed to be gone by a quarter past at the latest. That last song was fun, but we’re going to be rushed as it is.’ He glanced towards the soldiers and added, ‘You’re officially a pet. It’s unlikely they’re here for you; it’s more likely they want me. And even if you sing all night, it isn’t going to get rid of them. Making them wait longer than necessary might even go against us.’

Amba nodded reluctantly
. Whatever they were here for, they didn’t seem to be about to leave anyway, and singing more songs would just delay the inevitable. She returned her microphone to its stand and then, feeling her legs go, she sat down on the stage and waved to the crowd.

The audience broke into reels of cheering and clapping when they realized the group had played their last piece. Many headed straight towards the doors, some giving the four uniformed men funny look
s as they passed them. Some of the audience started to put the chairs away into the corners of the hall, while others came up onstage to help the group pack away their stuff. They weren’t big enough to have real groupies, but there were always people there willing to help in some way each night.

Sult had found the hall’s main lights and turned them on so they could actually see what they were doing. It was then that the three human members of the group realized why Amba had seemed so panicked.

The four at the back of the hall started to come forward towards the stage. Now, with the lights on, it was clear that they weren’t actually members of the Elite Guard, but were wearing the uniforms of trainees. There was a good chance they hadn’t recognized Jhosatl for what he was after all. Nevertheless, he jumped down from the stage to intercept them and partially to block their path. ‘All right mate, what’s the problem? What do you want?’

The leader of the four pulled out a small note pad and started to read from it
. ‘One, your cat hasn’t been properly de-clawed. All performing cats must be de-clawed. Two, the sharp teeth, canines or incisors of your cat haven’t been filed down properly. Again, all performing cats must have this done. Three, you allow your cat too much freedom onstage. She should be properly tethered to the stage itself; that chain looks totally inadequate.’

Amba felt herself breathing a sigh of relief at what she heard. She had been in a panic about nothing.

‘Ok, mate,’ Jhosatl replied; he too seemed somewhat relieved. ‘I’ll look into rectifying these things before our next performance. Do you have any suggestions as to what I should do to meet your requirements? Perhaps you can give me a pamphlet or something. I mean, I know how to get her claws and teeth filed down, mate, but I’m talking about replacements for the chain. And what about the collar? That stops her from venturing off the stage.’

‘That sort of collar is intended for home use only, totally inadequate for a performing cat
,’ the soldier told him.

‘I see,’ Jhosatl responded
. ‘Is there a collar that will fit the bill, mate?’

The soldier
who had been speaking waited for a second and even glanced at each of the other three in turn before saying, ‘Fourth, do you have a license that allows you to have a performing animal onstage with you?’

‘I-I didn’t know I needed one
,’ Jhosatl stuttered; the idea of getting a license, any kind of license, had just never occurred to him. He decided to change the subject. ‘Why has it taken you seven years to get around to us?’

‘Have you seen a newspaper today?’
the soldier asked.

‘No, mate
,’ replied Jhosatl simply, ‘should I have? We’ve had a busy night preparing for this gig; there hasn’t really been time.’

The soldier nodded
. ‘Allow me to explain. Earlier this evening the government declared that all domesticated cats of the two-legged variety are to be handed in at a police station for pickup and transportation to the Cattery. There are to be no exceptions.’

Amba felt her heart sink.

‘Why?’ This came from Sult, who was standing close by and eyeing the four with suspicion.