Kingfisher

Six hours' sleep or less

Ida and Astrid were walking together in the woods around the House. The base sat in a U-shaped meander of some river, only ever called "the river," and the steep sides of that river's valley rose sharply on either side of its banks and were covered densely with trees and filled with blossoms and bluebells. According to Luke, there was an Iron Age hill fort somewhere behind the house, but it seemed to Ida as though human civilisation stopped altogether outside the rebels' steel fence, only being resumed in its rational British form somewhere far distant beyond the boscaresque mysteries of the forest.

Even the concrete access road seemed wild and natural. She was no geographer and from the hilly landscape all she could guess was that she wasn't in the South-East or the Midlands. Judging by the route to WW7 railway station, she decided that she was probably close to the border of West (Wales) and West Midlands. None of that information helped her to plan her escape. But she continued to expect that her stay here would not be that long. The longer she had spent with Irresponsible, the more she had realised that their defeat was inevitable. They were useless. No, that was unfair—they were useless revolutionaries.

"Hey, Ida. Do you want to see the reason why we call it Ivyarch House?" asked Astrid, a glint in her eye. She seemed to enjoy provoking Ida's curiosity and she always went about it in rather rational ways. Emotional and logical. It was a combination that Ida couldn't stop herself from thinking about.

When Ida thought about Astrid, sometimes she imagined working with her, back in South-East 1, only the two of them would both have called it London. She is actually a very rational person and she would have made an excellent creative; it's a genuine shame that she wastes her life trying to destroy the greatest achievements of people like herself, Ida thought, watching as Astrid regarded her with a similarly curious eye. People like us, I suppose.

"I would find that very interesting, yes," she said. Nominally the two were in the woods to collect wild garlic. Though it was not a necessary element of the food they ate there, Ida understood that they added it and other 'seasoning' because it made the flavour more complicated in a way that masked the cheapness of the stolen supplies.

Astrid led them through the woods, crossing an abandoned old road strewn with leaves and finally coming to a darkish place that felt like a clearing; the 'roof' of the forest was more closed here and there was less floor-level foliage, giving the impression of a sort of arboreal room. An old red brick structure rose from the floor and arched beneath the sky, falling back to the ground with tired majesty. Behind it sat the ruins of more buildings; broken red bricks lay strewn across the ground. And of course, ivy climbed across it all.

"There you have it," said Astrid, sitting on one of the ruined walls as she watched Ida try to figure the structure out. "We—or rather, Aodhan—decided on calling 'Ivyarch House' because of this thing."

"I always assumed that it was some ancient name. But in truth you named it yourselves."

"If it ever had another name, how would we have known about it? Remember that our existence is illegal. We came across the House—an old barn, really, or a bunkhouse—walking along the river, and then going up through the woods we found this thing. We were looking for mobile phone signal." Astrid paused for a moment. "But every name had to be made up by someone and I think I like the fact that you thought it was ancient. It makes it feel more like a proper name." She smiled.

Smiles still generally made Ida uncomfortable; they seemed so intentionally irrational. With Rosie and Luke she found that she could increasingly tolerate them. With Astrid they certainly didn't make her feel the same way that she had upon her initial arrival, but she certainly noticed them and she wasn't sure what else to call the resulting feeling other than 'discomfort.' After all, Ida didn't know very many words for feelings. "Do you have any idea what this place might have been?", she asked.