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Authors: Gillian Andrews

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Another small inclination of the head.

“Did you talk to them when they came back . . . one or two years ago?”

Fifteen’s eyes widened and shifted from side to side, but then she nodded cautiously.

“Matron wouldn’t let them in, I suppose?”

There was a long pause. Then the girl spoke, unwillingly. “She let Eight in. She was sick.”

“Is she still here?”

The girl looked around furtively, and then nodded. “Yes.”

“But Seven went away?”

“She waited outside the gate for a long time, but then some Elders came, and they made her go with them.”

“Where?”

“Benefice.” Just saying the word seemed to terrify Fifteen, for she jumped to her feet, spilling all the flowers. She looked around her again, and then gave Grace a curtsey. “Goodbye, miss,” she said, and then retreated through the gate, locking it. She scurried back inside the ugly building.

Grace thought she was giving Six good news when he got back, so she was surprised to see the colour drain out of his face. “Benefice!” he muttered. Diva and Grace stared at him. “The city of the Elders,” he said. “If she went to Benefice she will be dead – or as good as.”

“Why?”

A muscle moved in his jaw. “Because the only way a no-name may exist in Benefice is as an untouchable.”

“What do they do?” asked Grace.

“They clean the sewers. They don’t live for long, because of the diseases they catch. I don’t think we will find my sister alive.” His voice grated.

“You must go and find out,” said Diva.

“Yes.” Six nodded. “I must.” Then he looked at Grace and Diva. “But you two mustn’t come. You would get infected in the effluent conduits.”

“Where you go, we go,” said Diva, after looking at Grace, and catching her quick nod.

“No!”

“We will dose ourselves up with a prophylaxis of antibiotics,” Diva said. “We brought plenty from Sell.” She signed rapidly on her bracelet of orthogel. “Arcan, can you send us some over?” She sent him a picture of where they had been stored. A moment later a small bubble appeared in front of them containing two small jars. Grace was looking confused, and Diva had to explain how she and Six had asked Arcan to remove the medicines as they had salvaged, together with with all the valuables they had been able to get their hands on.

“But the artifacts belong to my family!” She objected.

“You are your family now,” Diva told her. “And anyway, it technically all belongs to the Sellite government, so we stole it from them and not from your ancestors. In any case, the only family you have left has been banished to Cesis with no money, so you might want to share the booty with them!”

“Oh.” Put like that, Grace could see the force of the argument. “You are right. Thank you for thinking of all that.”

“Our pleasure. Actually it was Vion’s idea. We didn’t have time to save a big proportion anyway, but there should be enough for you and your brother during your lifetimes.”

“Not enough to make Amanita happy?” hazarded Grace.

“Definitely not enough for that!” said Diva, taking the two vials out of the bubble and slipping them inside her tunic. She gave Six a nudge, and he came out of his reverie.

“Sorry.” He shook his head slightly. “I was kilometers away.”

Diva gave him a punch on the arm. “Wake up, nomus! You know one of your sisters is here, and alive. That is good news!”

Six gave a bitter glance at the low building. “I suppose,” he said. “Though it isn’t going to be easy to get her out of there.”

“She is alive and warm and has food,” insisted Diva.

“Easy to see you were never in a birth shelter!” said Six. “Food is not the right name for what you get inside that place.” He nodded towards the low building.

“But she is alive!”

Six’s expression lightened at last. “You’re right. That
is
great news. I just have to get her out of here.”

“We have to get her out of here,” corrected Diva.

Six smiled. “We have to get her out of here,” he repeated. “Sacras knows when.”

“Cian didn’t form in a rotation,” pointed out Grace.

“We’ll come back for her.”

“Sure will,” said Diva. “For now, let’s get on our way to Benefice. It can’t be as bad as you make out!”

Benefice was an ugly, dirty city. It spread out over two thousand square kilometers of Kwaide, and was home to millions. These millions lived packed into low rise concrete blocks or the tiny shanties which existed alongside the effluent conduits.

Six had quite lost his usual banter. It was a somber figure who led the three of them into what was known as the wastelands. The landscape became dominated by huge cement tubes, protruding out of the ground, as they made their way further and further into the entrails of the huge city, hub of Kwaide. As they progressed they came across more and more untouchables; ragged people who scurried out of their way like Xianthan roaches under a flarelight.

Six looked closely at every face he saw. Neither Grace nor Diva understood why he didn’t ask any of the untouchables at first. Later they realized that none of them could speak. It was Six who explained why. “The gases burn the vocal chords,” He told them. “After six months they lose their voices completely. The untouchables don’t communicate with each other.”

“Then how will we find her?” asked Grace.

“I am hoping that I will somehow know it when we get near Seven. She is my twin, you know . . . they both are.”

“Did you feel it back at the birth shelter?” Grace was curious.

Six nodded. “Yes. But I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or not. It didn’t seem to work until we were right in front of the building. Even then I wasn’t sure . . . it had been such a long time. Two years!”

“You’ll feel it when we get close to her, Six.” Grace hugged his arm. “I am sure you will!”

Chapter 30

THEY SPENT THE first day in the wastelands with no success. Six would not let them drink from the communal fountains, so they made do with a few pieces of fruit each, reserving what little water they had for later. Even eating was an unpleasant experience. The untouchables smelt the fresh fruit, and gathered around them making mewling sounds and holding out their hands. Grace found it hard to eat in front of so many skeletal onlookers.

“Eat, Grace!” Diva chided.

“It sticks in my throat!” she said.

“I know. Mine too. Try to block them out. We are not going to change anything with one apple. They need a thousand orchards!”

“I know that. I still can’t seem to get the pieces down!”

“Yes you can. We have to keep our strength up. We owe that much to Six.” Diva gave the Kwaidian a sideways look. He was sitting apart, as had become his custom, no trace of the bravado he usually showed.

Grace followed her gaze, and nodded. “I know. Very well.” She went back to the task of chewing her apple. “Who would have thought that eating could be so difficult!”

The second day they ventured even further into the wastelands. Every step showed more wretchedness.

“How can these people function like this and still be alive?” asked Diva.

“How would you know?” To everyone’s surprise Six snarled at her. “You have no idea what it is like to be an untouchable. Your family expect their servants to lie down and die for them, don’t they? What could one lower life mean to you?”

Diva went white. Six had never spoken to her in that tone. She got up abruptly and walked away. Grace kept her silence.

“Lady privilege!” Six glared in Diva’s direction and then threw a rock at a nearby conduit.

Grace pulled out the flasks of antibiotics and made them take their daily dosage. It was a way to bring them back into the same space, although mentally Six was worlds away. He tossed back his medicine. He was so wired that Grace could sense the hatred running through his veins. It was a physical presence amongst them. Diva gave Grace a grey smile and then turned, ostensibly to study the nearest pipeline.

Unmentionable sights became commonplace that day. They found bodies left to rot on the streets. They saw acts of brutal indifference that seared the soul. Grace continually had to brush back tears which came to her eyes. Diva passed through all of the squalor, her face set. Six irradiated a kind of impotent wrath which kept him going at a pace the two girls could hardly follow.

They found no trace of Seven on the second day, either. The stench and the foulness which surrounded them was beginning to have their effect on Grace, who found herself physically nauseated. After two days her appetite had disappeared totally, and she existed only on sips of water from time to time.

Six and Diva were more sanguine about their surroundings, but tempers were growing progressively frayed.

“I suppose you think I should apologize,” Six said to Diva, in an aggrieved sort of tone.

“You suppose right, Kwaidian.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be so . . . so . . . superior.”

“I am not!”

“You are so! You act like the whole world was made just so that you could be the centre of attention!”

“On Coriolis, it was!”

“Not any more, it isn’t. Tattula cats, remember?”

“Of course I remember, imbecile! So what?”

“So you should have changed. But you haven’t. You go right on lording it over all of us. You aren’t so special any more, are you?”

“Did I ever say I was?” Diva demanded, hand on hip.

“You don’t have to say it!” blurted out Six. “It is obvious in the way you walk!”

“Oh, pardon me! I’m so sorry if the way I walk upsets his royal nomus,” Diva flared.

“You stalk along on those interminable legs of yours as if the whole planet belongs to you.”

“I wouldn’t have this awful planet as a gift.”

“Not up to your usual standards, your ladyship? No facilities, perhaps?” Six accused scathingly.

Diva looked around her deliberately, one eyebrow sarcastically in the air. “If this is an example of the facilities on Kwaide, no-name, then . . .”

“Shut up, both of you.” Grace got to her feet. “If you can’t stop quarreling about everything, then just keep silent, right?”

“I didn’t start it!” groused Six.

“I suppose I started it!” Diva said.

“Females never know when to shut up,” he said.

“Well, of all the . . .” And Six was forced to duck hurriedly rather than be hit in the face by a very soft and mushy peach. At least that made them all laugh again.

They went on, but the hopes of ever finding Seven were diminishing rapidly. They had almost explored the whole of the wastelands, with no sign of her.

Suddenly, Six stopped. It was so abrupt that Diva, who was right behind him, bumped into him.

“What in Sacras is the matter now?” she demanded.

“Don’t you come with brakes?” he asked.

“Enough, you two,” said Grace, holding up one hand. “Peace! What’s the matter, Six?”

He shook his head. “I think I felt her – my sister, I mean – but it was very weak, and I might have imagined it.”

“You are the only chance we’ve got,” Grace pointed out. “So go with your nose . . . you have some sort of a connection with both your twins, so you should feel her if she is near.”

Six wrinkled his nose doubtfully. “I might,” he agreed. “But I have been away such a long time now . . . I did think I felt Eight in the birth shelter, though.”

“Well, which direction?” demanded Diva.

Six tugged at an imaginary forelock, and bowed her in front of him. “This way, m’lady. Would you be wanting the dirty streets swept before you tread on them, your worshipfulness? Or should I be throwing down the rose petals so that modom doesn’t have to smell the nasty planet?”

“I wish!” said Diva. “This place is prehistoric. Somebody definitely ought to do something about it.” And she strode off in the direction Six had indicated.

“She’s right there Six,” said Grace. “Somebody definitely ought to do something about Benefice.”

“It’s number one on my list,” Six said grimly.

They walked without stopping for another couple of hours, and then Six held up his hand again.

“The feeling is stronger,” he said. “I’m almost sure she is here somewhere . . .”

The three looked around. Their walk had led them out of the wastelands, into an area of low rise flats, not of very good quality, but a million miles better than anything they had seen behind them. The blocks were clean, if spartan. Six led them towards one of the blocks, and then, with much hesitation, into the lobby and up the rough concrete stairs. He closed his eyes, as if listening to an interior voice, and then rang the bell on one of the flats in front of him.

“. . . who would come at this time of the evening.” The girl who opened the door was talking over her shoulder to somebody behind her, out of sight of the three newcomers at the door.

She stared. Then her face flushed a deep red, and she flung herself into Six’s arms.

“I thought you were dead!” she whispered, clutching him to her desperately, her hands clawing into his shoulders.

“Ouch!” He winced. “I will be if you dig your talons into me like that!” He turned to Grace and Diva. “My sister, Seven,” he said off-handedly. “Let go, will you Seven? No need to suffocate me!”

Seven gave him a peculiar look, and took a step back. Her eyes glanced to one side and then back, rather warily.

Six stiffened. “What?” he asked.

She bowed her head. “I thought you were dead.”

“So you said. And?”

“And I . . . err . . . I” She waved them in rather helplessly. “You had better come in.”

“I should jolly well think so.” Six was indignant. “We have just spent two days searching the wastelands for you.”

“Are you all right?” She included the girls in her question.

“Of course we’re not all right. How could anybody be all right after a couple of days in that unmentionable hell?” Six asked. “But we found you. Now we can take you back to Valhai with us!”

“Valhai?” Her jaw dropped. “The planet Valhai?”

“It’s a long story. But we will have plenty of time to tell yo. . . .”

“Who are these people, Jalana?” a soft male voice asked from behind her.

“This is my brother, Six. And two friends.”

“Ah . . . the return of the prodigal brother . . .” the voice went on, smoothly. Too smoothly, thought Six. “Well, am I to meet him?”

The girl moved to one side, rather nervously. “Come in, please,” she said. “I must beg the pleasure to introduce Calab . . . my husband Calab.”

Six appeared tacked to the floor. His mouth fell open. Diva pushed roughly past him and went forward, hands outstretched.

“A pleasure, Calab. We didn’t know that Seven was married.”

“If you are referring to my wife, the correct name is Jalana.” the voice corrected fluidly. “Otherwise, she would be a no-name.” His fingers didn’t quite touch Diva’s as they made the customary salute of all the Sacran planets.

“Err . . . quite.” Diva sounded a little confused. “Jalana, of course. My name is Diva. I am Coriolan.”

“An off-planeter!” Calab looked at her speculatively. “And what would an off-worlder be doing in Benefice, I wonder?”

Diva examined the man dispassionately. “Visiting,” she answered helpfully, and then turned to look expressively at Six.

“She married out?” he said.

The man gave a small bow. “As you so aptly put it,” he said, “she married out. To me.”

Six’s face wore a sort of crumpled look. “Wh . . . when?”

“A year ago,” the man said. “And since then we have been blessed with our first descendant.”

Seeing that Six was quite incapable of answering, Grace stepped in. “Err . . . congratulations. A boy or a girl?”

“A boy. Naturally.”

“Naturally?” Grace looked at Six.

“He is an Elder’s son, Grace. They are allowed to choose the sex of their children. His first child will be male, and will become one of the future Elders of Benefice.”

“How many Elders are there?” asked Grace. This didn’t seem a particularly sumptuous abode for someone who would one day rule a planet. You could have put about fifty of this flat into one floor of a skyrise back in Sell.

Six shrugged. “Thousands and thousands. They are the ruling class, but I don’t know how many there are.”

“So your sister is no longer a no-name?”

The soft voice interrupted her. “My wife, as I have already said, is called Jalana. Her background is not open to examination.”

“He means you should shut up,” explained Six helpfully.

“Yes, Six,” said Diva. “We got that much, thank you.”

“I’m sorry Six,” said his sister, still with her head bowed. “I was . . . err . . . fortunate enough to meet Calab, and he has given me a new past.”

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