Part 32 (1/2)
Rose stopped and shaded her eyes. Then she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, ”Laura!” She saw her cousin hesitate and look around, then wave to her. ”Stay right there!” Rose shouted. ”Come on,” she said to Mamie. ”We're going down there.”
Mamie moaned, but when Rose set off downhill, she hurried after her.
The man Laura was with had filthy red hair and was wearing Sandy Mason's coat-Rose was sure of it. The coat was wet. The strips of cloth wrapping the man's feet were oozing blood-tinged seawater. He'd been pulling mussels off the rocks at the tide line and was smas.h.i.+ng them open and eating them raw.
”I told him you'd have some food,” Laura said. ”But he has a somewhat independent disposition.”
Rose put her arms around her cousin and held her close. Mamie began to burble, more excited than complaining, about the dreamhunters who had swarmed the Doran summerhouse. ”Rose thought it best to run off. But I'm beginning to suspect there's a strong streak in your family of fleeing the scene.”
”Huh!” said the man smas.h.i.+ng mussels.
”Who is he?” Rose asked Laura. She could see that he was wearing arrow-printed trousers and that his ankles bore the marbled purple scarring caused by years of wearing leg irons.
”This is my cousin, Rose,” Laura said to the man.
Rose was intrigued by how gentle and respectful Laura sounded when she spoke to him. The man looked up at Rose with great interest. It made her blush. Then he dropped the sh.e.l.l-and-meat-flecked stone and, looking decisive, said to Laura, ”How many people are there who need to know?”
Laura said, ”There's Da, Uncle Chorley, Aunt Grace, and Rose.”
”But not this girl,” he said, and pointed his chin at Mamie.
”No,” said Laura.
”Well, I'll wait till they're all in one place. I'm only going to tell my story once more. Then, if I'm going to have any kind of life, I have to keep my mouth shut. I'm sure you agree.”
”h.e.l.l-you're a bit forceful,” Rose said to him. She had a very strong urge to pick a fight with him. It made her feel like a blowfly trapped under a gla.s.s.
”Do you have food?” he said, and gave Rose an up-from-under-the-brows look like the kind of dog who nips your fingers while s.n.a.t.c.hing meat.
”Only if you tell me your name,” Rose said.
”Lazarus Hame.”
Rose looked at Laura, who said, ”Yes-it turns out there was a Lazarus, after all.”
6.
N ONE OF THE FAs.h.i.+ONABLE TERRACES ABOVE THE BAY AT CASTLEREAGH THERE WAS A HOUSE WHERE ALL THE MIRRORS had been covered, and where, in the late afternoon following the funeral, only a few family members and close friends remained. The servants were gathering gla.s.ses and plates from under the chairs, on the windowsills, and from the top of the piano. No one expected a caller, given the time, and the funeral wreath on the front door.
One of the dead woman's daughters went to answer the knocking. It was something to do. Something to distract her from her nagging misery.
On the steps stood a small, severe-looking woman, and a man in a long cape, who had his arms folded under it in a way that made an imposing triangle of his upper body.
The dead woman's daughter stood aside and let the two in. She took them to her father, who was tucked in the house's smallest downstairs room, drinking whiskey with his best friend. Then, because the room was so small, the daughter went out and closed the door.
”Judge Seresin,” said Marta Hame, ”I'm very sorry for your loss. I hate to disturb you at this time, but I've come a long way and on desperate business.”
”Mitch, this is Marta Hame!” Dr. King said to his friend the Judge.
The caped man took a pace back and leaned against the door. He let his hidden rifle dangle, so that its muzzle appeared from under his cape, pointed at the floor.
”With a Temple guard!” said Dr. King. He was intrigued.
Marta Hame put her valise on the table, opened it, and lifted out her folded clothes balanced on the flat false bottom. She put the pile down, then produced the figure eight of film. ”We'll need to put this film back on a reel. It's footage of the Depot, a prison camp in the hinterland of the Place, reached by a secret rail line. Cas Doran and his Regulatory Body have been loading captive dreamhunters with a dream that makes anyone who has it stupid and incautious with happiness. Doran has begun to use this dream to control people in the capital.”
The two men stared at her, mouths open.
”So far he's contrived to have a dream-narcotized Congress pa.s.s legislation to extend the presidential term. And he is hunting down and trying to eliminate, or permanently dream-drug, anyone he thinks will spoil his plans.”
”I told you that vote was rigged,” Dr. King said to his friend. ”And I'm sure the earlier appointment of the Speaker of the House was somehow rigged too.”
Marta said, ”My niece, Laura, has been to that camp and can testify to its use. And anyone who has had a strong dose of the dream can testify to the fact that it is a gross abuse.”
”But, Miss Hame ...” Judge Seresin said.
Marta blinked at him in surprise. She was already worried that he hadn't leapt into action of some kind. Didn't he believe her?
”Have you not heard?” he said.
”Haven't you seen the newspaper?” Dr. King said.
Marta's hand crept to her throat and clutched her crucifix. ”I've been traveling by back roads and in locked train compartments. I've had no news.”
”The Place has gone,” said Seresin. ”It just melted away. Any plan of Doran's that requires dreams is doomed. Finished. Doran's empire has fallen.”
”Poor sod,” said Dr. King, then chuckled.
Then the Judge jumped up and stuffed a chair under Marta Hame's sagging legs. Dr. King poured her a stiff whiskey.
Marta knocked back the whole gla.s.s, grimaced, and said, ”G.o.d be praised.”
They refilled her gla.s.s and shook the decanter at the Temple guard, who set his gun against the door and joined them.
”I'll cable Wilkinson-who will quickly work out which side he's on,” said Seresin.
”I'll cable the Grand Patriarch, and my brother at Spring Valley,” Marta said, her voice already faintly slurred-she wasn't a drinker. ”And could you issue a warrant for Doran's arrest?”
”I shall certainly be doing that,” said the Judge. ”But perhaps we should all get on the next train to the capital?” For a moment he looked defeated and exhausted.
Dr. King said, ”Yes, Mitch. That would be best.” He put his gla.s.s down and touched his friend's hand.