The Temporal Void (70 page)

‘Yes,
you
,’ Edeard said.

The lad certainly looked like he should be exiled: curly brown hair that hadn’t seen soap for weeks, a scratchy beard just starting, bad outbreak of spots on both cheeks. His clothes were clearly tailored for someone else, with a belt holding up trousers whose legs were crudely cut to size – because he wasn’t particularly tall for his age. He wore a patched jacket with bulging pockets, filled with food and some small silver items looted from Sampalok shops. His only expression was sullen, and he wouldn’t meet anyone’s gaze.

His parents came with him, clinging defensively. Edeard remembered the father, a gang member working rackets out of Abad.

‘What’s your name?’ Edeard asked.

‘You leave him alone,’ the woman cried. ‘We’re going, what more do you bastards want from us?’

The lad gave Edeard the kind of surly stare that only a Sampalok youth could manage. ‘What do they call you?’ he asked benignly.

‘Marcol. What’s it to you?’

‘And your father is Arcton, I know, and your mother . . . ?’

‘Janeel,’ she said uncertainly. ‘What is this?’

‘Marcol here has a very strong third hand.’

Marcol reddened. ‘I don’t!’

‘There aren’t many in this city who can pull a ge-eagle out of the sky from such a height.’

‘Wasn’t me.’

‘You’re loyal to your parents, aren’t you?’ Edeard mused. ‘You’d have to be if you’re leaving with them. You’re old enough to stay and look after yourself if you really want; after all, you’re not named in any warrant.’

‘You let him be,’ Janeel said, her arms went protectively round her son.

‘I ain’t staying here,’ Marcol said defiantly.

‘I’ll make you an offer,’ Edeard said. ‘I’ll cancel your father’s banishment, if you sign on as a probationary constable at Jeavons station.’

‘What?’ Arcton and Janeel gave each other a disbelieving look.

‘Edeard?’ a puzzled Kanseen queried.

‘Two conditions,’ Edeard said. ‘Marcol has to complete his probation and graduate; and you, Arcton, get a job and keep out of trouble.’

‘Are you serious?’ Arcton asked.

‘I’m the Waterwalker.’

‘He doesn’t do funny,’ Macsen informed them curtly.

‘Yes,’ Janeel said, she looked ready to burst into tears. ‘Yes, we’ll do it.’

‘Marcol?’ Edeard asked. ‘What do you say? It won’t be easy.’

‘Why are you doing this?’ It was more like a grunt than a sentence.

Edeard put his arm round Marcol’s shoulder, and drew him aside. ‘Have you got a girlfriend?’

‘Yeah! Hundreds.’

‘Hundreds, eh? You’re lucky. I didn’t, not before I joined the constables. Do you know how many I had after I became the Waterwalker? Did you hear about that part of my life?’

Marcol came perilously close to smiling. ‘Sort of.’

‘Girls, especially fancy family girls, like men in uniform, particularly those of us who are stronger than everyone else. They
really
like that.’

‘Yeah?’

‘It’s never easy being a probationary constable, but can it be harder than trying to be a farm boy on the other side of the Iguru? Is that what you want to be?’

‘No.’

‘So will you give it a try? For your mum’s sake if nothing else. Look at her; she doesn’t want to be thrown out of the city. But I don’t have a choice: your dad did wrong, except now you’ve got a chance to put it all right.’

‘Okay. I’ll do it.’

‘Thank you.’ Edeard turned to Arcton and Janeel. ‘You can go home. Have him at Jeavons station seven o’clock tomorrow morning; washed and looking respectable.’

‘Yes, Waterwalker. Thank you, Waterwalker.’

‘What in Honious was that about?’ Macsen asked. ‘You can’t seriously think he’ll make a constable?’

Edeard grinned. ‘We did.’

The last of the banished walked through North Gate. Edeard turned to address the big crowd of constables who had completed the escort duty. ‘People will remember this day because of what I did. But none of that would be possible without your support, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the way you stood by me today. You made this happen just as much as me.’ His third hand reached for the giant iron hinges which held the gate itself. The latching mechanism creaked in protest as he lifted it. A flurry of rust flakes snowed down on to the grass from the cumbersome mechanism. Then he pulled the gate itself. The constables started cheering as the huge section of crystal swung back into the hole which Rah himself had cut it out of two thousand years ago. It made such a crunching noise that Edeard thought the ancient crystal might finally shatter. But instead, it fitted the archway perfectly. He thought such a dramatic gesture was an apt way to finish the banishment.

Kathlynn, Kanseen’s sister, was standing in the square next to the pile of wreckage which had been the Diroal family’s possessions. She was holding little Dium in her arms; he was sucking on a honey ball and squirming round energetically. Dybal and Bijulee were standing beside her. All three of them talking to Dinlay, who was sitting on a battered old pew of talcherry wood salvaged from the pile. A lot of Sampalok residents were busy salvaging. They swarmed over the mound like drakken on carrion. People were carrying off heavy bundles of stuff down the roads from the square. Edeard thought at least a third of it had been taken already. Incredibly, that included one of the huge gates from the outer wall. A quick scan round with his farsight revealed the gate beside a smithy three streets away. The owner and his apprentices were already hammering at the big iron bindings.

‘Right,’ Kanseen snapped as they emerged from Burfol Street and she saw Kathlynn. ‘What’s going on?’

Kathlynn caught sight of them and waved happily.

Edeard held up a finger in pleading. ‘One moment.’

The Sampalok residents had stopped everything as the Waterwalker returned to the square, giving him nervous glances. He smiled at them. ‘Take whatever you want, please, then stand back.’

Several of the bolder ones took him at his word, and continued to pick through the remains.

‘Edeard!’ Kanseen warned.

‘Ah, here we go.’ Edeard had spied Kristabel emerging from one of the streets. She was wearing a lime-green dress and an apron with smears of blood on it. A Mother was walking beside her, an elderly woman stiff with suspicion. She presided over the Lady’s church in Sampalok, one of the most thankless tasks in the district. It showed in her demeanour. She was a lot tougher than most of the Lady’s Mothers Edeard had encountered.

Bijulee embraced Macsen, while Dybal clapped him on the back. Macsen yelped at the impact. Kanseen had now been saddled with the wriggling Dium, who was delighted to see his auntie.

Kristabel gave Edeard a quick kiss. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yeah. But I really don’t want any more days like this one.’

‘There won’t be.’

‘Still want to marry me?’

‘Of course. Is that what this is about?’ she gestured at the Mother.

‘No. Sorry. This is about maintaining the rule of law. That’s what gives people hope. And they need that today of all days.’

‘I love you,’ she murmured.

The Mother coughed for attention. ‘You asked to see me, Waterwalker.’

‘Yes, Mother. I think we might have a ceremony for you to perform.’

‘What kind of ceremony?’

‘Macsen, I believe our dearest friend told you not to waste any time.’

‘What?’

Dybal started chuckling.

‘Do you have something to ask somebody?’ Edeard said levelly. ‘Right now.’

Macsen gave him a frantic stare. ‘You’ve got to be joking,’ he growled through lips which didn’t move.

‘I’m the Waterwalker, apparently I don’t do funny.’

The salvagers had claimed their prizes, now they were gathering to watch the latest bizarre spectacle to be played out in the square today. Constables also began to congregate, showing considerable interest. A lot of farsight was concentrating on the square again. Edeard held out an arm. A silver ring flashed out from the pile of debris to fly across the square into his hand. He proffered it to Macsen with a flourish. ‘You might need this.’

‘Oh Lady.’ Macsen took the ring, his eyes widening in amazement at how many diamonds could fit on to such a small item. ‘Really?’

‘Really,’ Edeard said.

Macsen took a breath and went down on one knee. ‘Kanseen, I have never been happier than when I’m with you. Would you please do me the honour of marrying me?’ He might have been incredibly awkward with so many people straining to see and hear, but his face held a longing that was irrefutable.

‘Yes, my darling,’ she said. ‘I will marry you.’

Several constables whistled and clapped in approval as Macsen put the ring on her finger. He frowned at Edeard as it slipped about. ‘You couldn’t find one that fitted?’

‘Mother,’ Edeard said. ‘Would you please marry them now?’

‘Edeard, no,’ Kanseen said. ‘Look at the state of me. My wedding is supposed to be . . . not this.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I have my reason.’

‘
Your
reason?’

He nodded.

‘It had better be incredible,’ she muttered.

Dybal gave the bride away. Dinlay was best man. Kathlynn stood behind her sister, crying as she held the posy of flowers hurriedly snatched from plants in nearby streets. Kristabel and Bijulee took it in turns to cope with Dium, who really wanted to be in on the action. Edeard held Kristabel’s hand when he could, listening to the Mother’s words with the heap of rubbish from the mansion as the background to the damp, dishevelled bride and groom. Constables formed a big semi-circle round them, with curious Sampalok residents making up a wider audience.

When it was over, when the promises were made, the rings exchanged, and the bride kissed, Edeard went up to his friends. His voice and longtalk filled the square.

‘When Rah brought us out of the chaos to this place the city accepted us. When Rah allowed his most faithful friends and followers to become District Masters the city did not object, for he chose wisely. Down the centuries, the family Diroal slipped away from the ideals that were sworn at the beginning, and today is a result of that. None of us wish to defy Rah’s constitution, least of all me; so I now publicly ask this city to accept the appointment of the new joint District Master and Mistress of Sampalok.’

‘Edeard!’ Kanseen hissed furiously.

The Waterwalker gestured, and the ground beneath the pile of expensive detritus turned fluid again. Everything left from the demise of Bise’s mansion was sucked down below the surface amid a harsh gurgling sound. The crowd drew a sharp breath of excitement.

‘Walk to the middle,’ Edeard said quietly as the city substance hardened again.

Macsen took his wife’s hand, and urged her out into the big open space. Both of them radiated nerves as their soggy boots squelched on the ground, watched by over a thousand people in the square, and many times that number by farsight.

‘The new Master and Mistress of Sampalok,’ Edeard announced. ‘And their new mansion.’

The surface began to ripple around Macsen and Kanseen. She jumped in apprehension and he hugged her tight – which gathered more than a little appreciation from their audience.

Six long dark lines firmed up on the ground around them, as if some architect was using the area to sketch an enormous hexagon. Smaller lines multiplied inside them, revealing the outlines of various rooms and cloisters. Then all the lines began to bulge up into ridges.

A radiantly happy Kanseen glanced across the empty space to Edeard. ‘How long is this going to take?’

‘A little while. It’s always quicker and easier to tear things down than it is to build them back up again.’

‘So? A week?’

Edeard gave the tiny ridges a doubtful look. After five minutes they were nearly two inches high. Below them the city was ponderously rearranging its vast complicated network of channels and ducts to feed and support the new structure he’d hurriedly drafted.
A building with proper stairs. Finally!
‘Perhaps I’d better get you a tent as your wedding present.’

You couldn’t dream in suspension. Everyone knew that. And yet . . .

Justine recalled those two wondrous lazy days with Kazimir so clearly. It had been the most fabulous doomed love affair the universe had ever known. She’d been vacationing on Far Away, a brattish rich girl celebrating her latest rejuvenation on what was then the Commonwealth’s most outré planet. The grand finale had been a hyperglider flight over Mount Herculaneum. It had been an insane thrill ride. Flying the tiny plane through a phenomenally aggressive storm gave her the speed to soar out of the atmosphere and curve over the summit of the huge volcano. Despite all the odds, she’d managed it; gliding down to land in a small clearing on the other side.

Luck, chance, fate, or a particularly wicked god had placed Kazimir on the ground beside the clearing as the hyperglider bumped and jolted to a halt. He was seventeen, born into the Guardians of Selfhood which Bradley Johansson had formed to protect humanity from the Starflyer. An upbringing that had left him utterly devoted to his cause yet at the same time innocent of the universe at large. He never really stood a chance against a woman two hundred years his senior whose newly youthful body was fizzing with adolescent hormones. Not that he put up a lot of resistance.

It took the tourist company’s recovery crew two days to drive round Herculaneum and pick up all the glider pilots. Two days spent eating the gourmet food from the glider’s store, sleeping, talking, and making love. Two days alone together. Then she went back to her world and he to his. All she had left was the sweetest memory of her entire life.

That really should have been the end of it. But years later the Guardians of Selfhood gave Kazimir an assignment on Earth, and he risked everything to see her again. His reward was to be betrayed. By her. She thought she was doing the right thing informing the security services. But it was he who had the truth of it, the Starflyer was real and extracted revenge. Kazimir had been assassinated by one of its agents, and in twelve hundred years Justine had never forgiven herself. Not even the son she’d borne him and named after him had helped ease the pain.