Shadows Beyond

Chapter 13

‘Do you think Sydd’s turning us in?’ Tagg asked as he watched the pilot deep in conversation with the lanky customs official.

‘Not if he wants his key back.’

The official signed a sheet of paper on a clip board, held it out for Sydd to sign and turned to leave.

‘What’s he up to?’ Zeff murmured.

‘What be wrong?’ Emtani asked.

‘Nothing’s been searched.’ Zeff looked at Tagg for an answer, but he had none. ‘The spider-shite’s up to something,’ Zeff said, ‘and whatever it is, it’s not legal.’

‘As long as he holds to his side of the bargain, I couldn’t give a rat’s tail,’ Tagg said.

‘What’s he smuggling in?’ Zeff muttered to himself, wishing he had searched the boat when he had the chance.

The official was shouting for the sluice gates to be opened. Emtani heard a muffled roar as water started pouring out. Slowly, the boat descended with the water level and, when it had reached the lowest point, the inner gates opened and Sydd skilfully steered the Syndi-Karmen slowly through. A man on the dockside shouted directions to the specific berth set aside for them and, when they reached it, the boatmen jumped off, expertly mooring it to the dock.

Having lived all her life next to the river, Emtani was surprised not just by the general decay and filth all around, but by a jumble of unfamiliar sounds: boats thudding against the dock and each other, ropes banging against planking, men shouting, cranes groaning and the accumulation of all kinds of floating debris that bumped against the dock wall as the water rose and fell. Cargo crates and bales were being hoisted from the boats on to the docks where men manoeuvred them onto huge carts that, depending on the size, had four or six bedraggled men harnessed between the shafts to pull them away when fully laden.

Everything smelt of stale, malignant misery.

Tagg helped Emtani ashore and Zeff followed.

Sydd followed at a distance, anxious for his key. Emtani wondered if he had friends lying in wait for them, but Zeff looked confident. She suspected that if revenge was to be had, it would be in a dark alley one unsuspecting night.

Together Tagg, Emtani and Zeff walked to the customs shed, a depressingly gloomy room dominated by a shabby metal table behind which stood the same young man who had passed the boat through without inspection. He asked their names.

‘Esterhausil,’ Zeff said, ‘Tagg, Emtani and Zeff.’

Their bundles were searched and headlets checked. Emtani was grateful to have her Freeworker headlet hidden in Tagg’s boot. Zeff paid the entrance tax of two govs each and they were allowed through.

Sydd was hovering behind them apprehensively. Holding up the key so it could be clearly seen, Zeff carefully placed it on the floor. Then he turned and hurried Tagg and Emtani out through a passage onto a festering, narrow street.

Emtani was enveloped in a world of total degradation, the like of which she had never seen before. Her own village was poor, the only house of quality belonging to Lord Thrakken, but she had never seen such miserable surroundings as these. The air was thick with pollution and decay, and grimy terraced houses with shabby metal shutters lined the road. Rubbish gathered in untidy piles against the houses and several dull-eyed children in ragged clothing leant against the walls or sat in the roadway. Emtani shuddered, not from the cold, but from the utter cheerlessness of it all.

Each road they walked down seemed bleaker than the one before. Emtani kept close to Tagg for reassurance. When they finally reached a proper roadway her spirits lightened just a little. Here, the houses seemed slightly less shabby and had windows. It was true they were opaque, which meant that Emtani could not see inside, but any daylight that broke through the gloom would surely seep into the rooms.