Les Grands Chantiers (Wattys 2022)

13. Going Home

The tram was packed. Most of the people had the skimpy outfits and orange-flecked eyes of people ready for a night of debauchery in the Botanic Gardens, despite the cold weather. Brendan and Adrian looked distinctly out of place here. Luckily, everybody else was too engrossed in conversation to even notice their presence.

In a few hours the atmosphere outside had changed considerably. It was well past ten o'clock, but the party was only getting started. The streets were filled with people slowly barhopping their way to the Botanic Gardens. Wolves darted along the sidewalks between peoples' legs and streamed across the street whenever a gap in the traffic permitted, keeping to the shadows. Their fur dark, their movements inscrutable in their swiftness, flitting seamlessly in and out of the shadows.

The street was even more gridlocked now than in the evening peak. The cars were now heading in the same direction as they were.

"Marshall and Berger. What do they have to do with this?" At least that was what Brendan thought Adrian had said, over the din of a dozen concurrent conversations around him.

"You know the rumors." They were pressed up against the wall where a bunch of seats had been removed to create a space where parents could park their pram, provided they could get their pram onto the tram in the first place. "Stuff the journalists don't have enough evidence of to even think about writing about. All kinds of dirty work for the Alphas. Dream pack houses. Dungeons. Torture chambers." Brendan fiddled with the sleeve of his coat. "Messed up stuff. It's a very cozy relationship they have."

"I heard about the tower." Adrian looked out of one of the tiny standee windows. He could barely see anything over the reflection of the interior. "One of the most messed up things I've ever had to read about."

"I heard she escaped. Good for her."

"So what's next?"

"Floriana knows them. She's friends with both Marshall and Berger. I'll just have to see if I can get her to, uh, arrange something." Brendan felt the inkling of an idea form in his mind. "Don't worry about it. I'll figure it out. Just leave it to me."

"Won't they suspect things?"

"Who? The Alphas or the, uh, school?"

"The school, but wouldn't the Alphas also be interested?"

"As I said before. They don't interfere with the actual physical bones of the project. They just provide the money and the magic. There's a power dynamic going on there. The alphas don't mess with the magicians, and nobody messes with the architects. But really it's all money laundering, with a spot of reputational laundering on the side. We've got a weird gadgetbahn we can pitch already. They love these kinds of futurish schemes. It's like catnip to them. Yes, they're costly, but you see, that's the point. The more expensive the better. There's all that dirty cash that needs to be made clean."

"But is a guided skateboard over the waves going to be enough?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Well, it's a bit simple, isn't it?"

"We can just bump up the price. Just make all the stations gold-plated and put platform screen doors or whatever. Award the construction contracts to their mates at grossly inflated prices. Easy."

"So all you have to do is get her to talk to him?"

"Yes. We'll just go to his office and talk about it. Easiest thing in the world. That's what we do. We match up clients with their customers, and do consulting. The biggest challenge will be for me to get Floriana to fit it into her schedule. Very busy. As you might imagine."

"I'll take your word for it," He said.

The traffic in front was clearing. The sea of taillights was moving again. The tram inched forward. He could see the cars rushing past on Constitution Road and hear the honking of horns. They were getting close. It would be a straight shot over to Briarleaf on the other side of the city.

The tram turned onto the centre of the wide expanse of Constitution Road, flanges screeching. Slowly, as there were many people and wolves alike crossing the road, and even more ignoring traffic signals altogether and just scrambling across at any gap available. Hence the honking horns.

There were lines of cars double-parked and triple-parked along the kerb on the Botanic Gardens side of the road. Traffic was at a crawl. The tram was going barely faster, and the driver was ringing the bell at people and wolves alike darting across the centre median. Behind the brick wall, the Gardens would be full to bursting with wolves taking advantage of the moon. Brendan had been there once with his parents because his mum's WeChat groupchat had recommended one of the more isolated spots. They had queued with the hippies to use the public shifting rooms. It was like being in a pressure cooker full of wolf pheromones.

Behind the chaos, the tall trees of the Botanic Gardens stood sentinel. There were wolves trying to get over the wall. Not too successfully. There were spikes on top.

The people around them on the tram were picking up their things, getting up from their seats, getting ready to alight. Hordes of people exited at each stop, joining the hundreds of people were heading for the nearest gate. The regulars had their favourite spots in the park. Brendan knew the less crowded exits were along the other side of the park along the Botanic Parkway, but few people went that way.

By the time they were crossing the twelve lanes of Ruth Gray Avenue, rattling through the 1 1/2 grand union with the faint glow of the Lycandome in the distance to their left, the tram had all but emptied. 

Brendan was not too enthused by the thought of getting off at Briarleaf and taking the long slog out into the suburbs on a local train, stopping all stations, on full moon night no less. He had done it once, and he wasn't exactly keen on repeating the experience. There would be wolves streaming on and off the train. It was a little creepy. Not because they were going to hurt you or anything, it was just that it was a little weird sharing a train with a bunch of wolf-like creatures that were people for the other 353 days of the year. He didn't even try to think about the walk from the station to home. He had never tried to get home on a full moon before. When he was away on school field trips with Beidzner he had always slept over somewhere, in a sleeping bag with a bunch of the others. Sometimes he had a strange nostalgia for those times, even though he was anything other than nostalgic about some of the other aspects.

Not to mention it would be freezing.

"It's a bit late. You could stay at my place," Adrian said, as if he could read his mind. His composure was still perfect. Not even the tiniest fleck of orange in his eyes. He was sailing through this like a human.

"I'll be fine," Brendan said, automatically. He felt the beginnings of a headache. He yawned. "I've done this before. I'll be home in no time."

"You're in no condition to be travelling that far at night," Adrian replied. "And on a full moon no less."

***

Briarleaf was free of roaming wolves, and Brendan was far too tired to remember the next few minutes. A marble lined foyer, the mirrored walls of an elevator, a dimly lit corridor.
The apartment was well furnished. A spotless kitchen. That was as much as he felt he could take in without passing out.

It's not much." Adrian said, absentmindedly. Brendan was still gaping at the size of the living spaces. The ceilings were so high he felt like he was hallucinating. It felt like Adrian was talking to him through a snorkel.

"You can sleep in the spare bedroom." Adrian led him through a darkened doorway and flicked open a light, illuminating a room that was bigger than his living room at home. "You've got your own ensuite-" he pointed at a door in the corner.

The room was easily twice as big as his own bedroom at home. Everything was vibrating slightly. There was a four-poster bed and ornate drawers. Brendan vaguely remembered taking off his clothes. He was asleep in seconds.