The Secret Invasion of Port Isabel (4 page)

_{BRUSH WITH DEATH}

A black boar with
short, yellowing tusks sticking from the corners of his mouth so
that they lifted his gums into a snarl entered the Stinging Nettle.
He wasn’t very big; his ragged ears reached only as high as the
table tops. His hairy back was humped, he had no neck and on the
side of his snout was a crooked scar. He looked like a ball of
muscle.

A quick glance
told Flossy all she needed to know. This boar was a soldier-type;
most comfortable executing orders without question; no imagination
to speak of; prizing strength above all else. He was probably a
little stupid too, but that was just a guess. Everything about his
appearance and bearing said he would not be trifled with; that he
was dangerous.

The boar
passed between the tables with a business-like trot, stopped at
their booth and rudely shook himself dry. Water sprayed
everywhere.

‘Steady on!’
said Flossy, turning away to avoid being drenched.

The black boar
snorted as he scrutinised Flossy, then the others. ‘If you would
all attend to me and come forthwith I will be convenienced,’ he
said, hard little eyes daring any of them to disobey.

‘Huh?’ said
Flossy.

The black boar
stamped a trotter impatiently on the floor. ‘If you would attend to
me and come forthwith…’

‘Oh, you want
us to go somewhere,’ said Flossy. She had guessed right, he wasn’t
the smartest animal in the room but he was the most dangerous.

The black boar
snorted again. ‘The Mayor wants your immediate presentment;
forthwith and now.’

‘I think he
means that the Mayor wants to see us, Flossy,’ said Harry. Harry
looked down from the table. ‘Please inform His Lionship that we
will be along presently.’

The black boar
turned to go, hesitated then turned back. ‘But you are not coming,’
he said, frowning.

‘We’ll just
finish up here then we’ll come across. You go ahead and let the
Mayor know,’ said Harry.

‘But the Mayor
told me to bring you all forthwith and now. You all must come, now.
That is what he said.’

Harry picked
up his sunglasses and turned to Reginald. ‘I’m afraid Larry’s story
will have to wait. Apparently we have been summoned “forthwith and
now”’—he said this with a wry smile, making sure he was facing away
so his smile wasn’t seen—‘and so we best not keep His Lionship, or
Sergeant Boar for that matter, waiting any longer.’

Flossy slid
off the bench seat and stepped aside. Harry slid from the seat and
dropped to the floor beside her.

‘Coming,
Flossy?’ asked Harry.

‘Right behind
you, Captain Harry,’ she replied stiffly, with a smile and a short,
sharp salute.

Harry patted
himself down and looked about.

‘My shout this
time,’ said Reginald through the open window.

‘You sure?’
asked Harry.

‘Quite. You
picked up the bill last time, I think.’

‘You know I
didn’t, but thanks all the same, Reginald. I’m a little tight at
the present time,’ said Harry.

He made his
way between the tables to the front door of the café.

‘Thanks,
Reginald,’ said Flossy as she followed after Harry.

‘You’re
welcome, Flossy Fairweather,’ the big elephant called after her,
eyes sparkling with pleasure.

Sergeant Boar
was waiting for them outside. Reginald approached through the light
rain that was little more than low cloud, droplets of water dancing
in the air and beading wetly.

‘To the Mayor,
then!’ Harry announced, putting on his sunglasses smartly. ‘Lead
the way, Sergeant.’

The black boar
led the way. Harry followed, walking in an overly dignified manner;
tail held aloft and looking about with airs; as if he owned the
whole town.

Flossy laughed
as she adjusted her sword then jogged to catch up. She hoped her
clothes were acceptable for an audience with the Mayor. She wore a
burgundy vest over an open-necked shirt which was tucked into
cotton pants she’d trimmed with lace. A broad belt slung across one
shoulder held her scabbard and sword. Her jacket was dirty and damp
but it at least held in some of the warmth. She would very much
like a bath and change of clothes but these would have to wait.

They marched
through the cold, misty rain using Reginald as a kind of walking
windbreak. Water droplets danced around them as if they weren’t
sure they were ready to fall. The black boar marched ahead, hairy
rump glistening wetly.

‘Are his teeth
supposed to stick out like that? Or are they called tusks?’
whispered Flossy to Harry.

‘The
Sergeant’s?’ asked Harry, conspiratorially. He drew closer so he
wasn’t overheard.

Flossy
nodded.

‘He can’t help
it. He’s a Throwback.’

‘A what?’

Reginald, who
must have been listening, rebuked Harry from the corner of his
mouth.

‘Sorry, I
should have said, “a Random”
.
Throwback’s impolite in most
respectable
circles.’ Harry had a gleam in his eye as he
said this, as if that was why he used the word in the first
place.

‘I don’t know
either word,’ whispered Flossy. The boar was well ahead of them,
and in front of Reginald. It was unlikely he could hear but she
didn’t want to be the source of more conflict, especially as she
was about to appear before the Mayor on behalf of all of humankind.
First impressions were important and so far things hadn’t started
well. She couldn’t afford another mistake.

Reginald
turned his head toward them without slowing, and glared. He swayed
as he walked.

‘Ask me
later,’ said Harry, with a childish grin. ‘There’s a schoolteacher
nearby and he’s got big ears.’

They’d moved
on only a few more paces when Flossy yelled ‘Harry!’ and pushed him
roughly aside.

A lump of
stone as big as a watermelon slammed into the ground exactly where
Harry had been standing. It cracked into two on the cobblestones,
one half bouncing towards Reginald who deftly stepped aside.

They all moved
a safe distance away from the old building that rose up beside them
and looked up.

The building
seemed to slump in the middle from weariness. It adjoined the
buildings either side to form the wall of buildings that framed
Town Square. Its doors and windows were owl sized and under its
eaves, three stories up, was a row of carved stone snakeheads with
open mouths from which rainwater poured into the square below. The
lump of stone was one of these, now broken off.

‘Oh my. That
was close,’ said Reginald.

‘Thanks
Flossy. You saved my life,’ said Harry.

Flossy had
half drawn her sword. She squinted at the roof line above. ‘I saw
movement up there just before it fell,’ she said.

‘Come now. Are
you saying you think someone threw it down deliberately?’ said
Reginald.

‘Things fall
off the old buildings sometimes, Flossy. And that one was built by
the owls hundreds of years ago. It’s a wonder it’s still standing,’
said Harry.

Flossy
frowned. ‘But I did see something.’ There had been a shadowy
shape.

Sergeant Boar
grunted impatiently, as if he didn’t know why they had stopped, or
didn’t care. ‘The Mayor said to come forthwith, and now,’ he
said.

_{CHAPTER 4}

_{TOWN SQUARE}

They passed the museum
that had had been destroyed by fire during the riot. Flossy and
Larry hadn’t been inside, as everyone thought. They were asleep,
safe and dry in a secret place Larry knew. There was so much
confusion about pirates she had thought it best to wait until
morning before letting herself be seen. Apparently humans were
feared as much as dogs, and her clothes made everyone think she was
a pirate too.

One of the
museum’s walls had fallen and large blocks of stone lay scattered
in the Square like giant dice. Harry had called it Reginald’s
museum. He had said that Reginald not only worked there, but that
it was his life’s work. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like
to lose so much. Flossy watched Reginald for some sign of how he
felt but as he was marching ahead of her she couldn’t see his
face.

In the middle
of the ruins stood a strange silver tower that looked like it
hadn’t been harmed by the fire. It was tall, tubular and had a
pointy top with a spike. It sides were studded with bumps running
in long lines and it seemed to glow in the pale morning light.

‘Reginald!’
called out Flossy.

Reginald
tilted his big head back towards her as he walked.

What’s that?’
she said, pointing.

‘That?’ he
asked, looking up. ‘We call it the Cylinder House.’

‘It’s a
house?’

‘In truth, we
don’t know what it is or what it’s for,’ he said.

‘Who made it
then?’

‘We don’t know
that either.’

‘Well then,
where did it come from?’

‘The owls
brought it here hundreds of years ago. They built the museum around
it. We think they pulled it from the ice. If so, it’s an artefact
from the Machine Age.’

‘When was
that?’

‘The Machine
Age?’ Reginald asked. ‘Well, it was certainly thousands of years
ago. The House you belong to, and probably the House of Owl, ruled
the world and made marvellous things like the Cylinder House. Then
the ice came, and the war.’

Out of the
corner of her eye, Flossy noticed a flock of sheep disappear down
one of the alleyways adjoining the Square. One of them seemed to
have a long black tail pointing up. She had never before seen a
sheep with such a tail, but until recently, neither had she seen
talking animals. It must be the way some sheep looked in this part
of the world. Anyway, she’d only caught a glimpse so it might not
have been a tail at all. Perhaps the sheep was carrying something.
But it did look an awful lot like a tail.

She shivered
with cold as they marched. Her bare feet were like blocks of ice
and her breath misted. Every surface was black and shiny wet from
the rain.

There were
shops bordering Town Square, mostly closed. Food and other goods
were displayed behind large, dull windows. The misty rain collected
overhead on colourful canvas awnings and fell into puddles on the
cobblestones. Two large, grey rhinos wearing body amour had taken
shelter under one such awning. They turned to watch her pass by,
snorting in misty plumes but saying nothing.

The Square
itself was longer than it was wide, so it wasn’t really a square in
the strict definition of the word. At one end was the Stinging
Nettle, the entrance to Zigzag Road that led down to Curiosity
Quay, and the ruins of the museum. At the other, was an enormous,
wide-fronted building capped by a copper-green dome and fronted
with a grand staircase. This was probably their destination, as the
black boar was heading straight for it. Navy-blue flags hung limply
from tall, white flagpoles that stood either side of the staircase.
There was a small, old-looking domed structure in front but Flossy
couldn’t see it clearly through the misty rain.

‘Is that the
Heat Tree you were talking about, Harry?’ She pointed out a
leafless tree in the middle of the Square that glowed like embers
in a fire. It looked like the branching pieces of bleached coral
occasionally snagged in the
Enterprise
’s fishing nets, just
much bigger and glowing. She could feel the warmth prickling her
wet cheeks.

‘Yes, that’s a
Heat Tree. You’ve not seen one before?’ said Harry.

Three big
crocodiles lay on a low stone wall encircling the tree, basking in
the warmth. One of the crocodiles noticed her and lazily lifted its
head.

Flossy rested
a hand on the pommel of her sword. ‘It’s hot,’ she said, keeping a
wary eye on the crocodile. It quickly lost interest and lay back
down.

‘Clever name,
then,’ said Harry, smiling.

‘What does,
“Curiosity has its own reason for existing” mean?’ Flossy asked.
The phrase was cut into the curving wall beneath the crocodiles and
was stained with age.

Harry
shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It’s always puzzled me. The owls, they’re
the ones who built the wall and most of these buildings, had all
sorts of strange sayings—like the one about the dead cat over the
gateway at the quay. Curiosity was a big theme of theirs. Do you
know, Reginald?’

‘I’ve pondered
it for years,’ said Reginald. ‘You see, every day I would walk past
the Heat Tree on my way from the school to the museum or the other
way round. I think it means that curiosity exists for its own sake;
that it doesn’t need some reason other than itself to
be
. I
think the owls were saying that curiosity doesn’t come from some
problem that needs solving; neither does it need to result in some
solution. It just
is
, and that’s enough. What I mean is:
it’s good to be curious and you don’t need a reason.’