A City Called Smoke: The Territory 2 (21 page)

It was several hours’ walk to the gate Ernest had told them about and the sun was bathing the landscape in the purple-orange of dusk when they finally reached it. A single high watchtower, similar in construction to those that had been standing around the underground prison town of Pitt, rose above them. There were several figures moving around on the wooden platform of the tower. Squid heard the repetitive clicking and whirring sound of someone turning the crank handle of a generator, and then a slowly brightening light shone down on them.

“This them, Sarge?” a voice said.

“Aye.” Squid recognized Ernest’s voice. “This is them. Open the gate.”

Two men dressed in the same white uniforms as Ernest and Kit climbed down and unbarred the gate, which consisted of two reinforced wooden doors that swung inward as the men pulled, both of them required to open one at a time.
The white uniforms must represent the equivalent of the Diggers here
, Squid thought, hoping they weren’t the equivalent of the Holy Order instead, though judging by the way Ernest had been speaking he didn’t think that was very likely.

Ernest walked to meet them as the gate opened. He reached his hand out to Squid first, acknowledging that despite looking like the smallest and youngest member of the group, he was clearly the leader. Squid shook his hand.

“Welcome to Reach,” Ernest said. “I’ll take you to see the Council of Five. It’s really their decision what assistance we can provide. I’m First Sergeant of the Border Patrol, have been for a damn lot of years. I’m sure I can convince them you’re all on the straight and narrow.”

Squid had no idea what being on the straight and narrow meant but he nodded anyway. “Thank you,” he said.

“We’ll take my buggy,” Ernest said, walking toward the vehicle he’d arrived in at the fence.

With Kit no longer in the buggy Squid, Nim, Mr. Stix and Mr. Stownes all climbed aboard, Mr. Stownes taking up almost the entirety of the rear bench seat and squashing Nim and Mr. Stix into the doors. Ernest pushed a button and the engine started with a bursting roar. It shook behind them with pent-up energy, rumbling and shaking as if the engine was impatient to release its power. Before he knew it Squid, sitting in the front seat where Kit had been standing, was forced to grab the handle in front of him to stop from falling out as the wheels of the buggy spun. The back of the vehicle seemed to move sideways as Ernest turned them around and headed away from the fence at high speed.

“We should get ourselves one of these, Mr. Stownes,” Mr. Stix yelled into the wind with a wide grin on his face. Mr. Stownes nodded enthusiastically in return. Squid gripped the handle in front of him with white knuckles, very much looking forward to the day when he would not have to ride on bio-vehicles of any sort.

Unlike the Central Territory which had settlements spread out across a vast expanse of land, Reach was essentially just a single town. They passed a number of houses and a few small farms during their approach, but the township of Reach itself was only an hour or two back from the fence. It was bigger than any of the towns in the Territory, but nothing like the bustling city of Alice with its sprawling slums. Several water towers rose up from among the buildings dotted across the town. The streets were narrow but well kept, with bio-trucks and buggies zigzagging along them. Most of the buildings were made of wood, though many contained a patchwork of other building materials: corrugated metals, stone and glass, clearly repurposed from some other structure that had once stood here, or more likely had once stood somewhere else.

The people in the streets moved aside for them as Ernest drove the buggy toward the center of town. Everyone Squid saw was just like anyone who might have lived in the Territory, with one very distinct difference. Nearly everyone who lived in Alice was clean and expensively dressed while those who lived in the Outside were dirty, their clothes much rougher, and those in the slums were the worst off of all. Here in Reach, though, no one seemed to be at either of those extremes. No one wore the finery of Alice, but no one seemed as destitute as those outside that city’s walls.

Ernest drove the buggy to a stately looking building set back behind a park of patchy green grass and gum trees. The words carved above the façade, which was held in place by four wide pillars, read “Council Building.” There were already several identical-looking buggies parked off to the side, and Ernest drove in beside them and cut the engine, which petered out before stopping with a final
pop
.

“This is where the council meets,” Ernest said. “The Border Patrol operates out of here too, but more importantly it’s where the Council of Five handles,” he made vague waving gestures with his hand, “stuff. Come, I’ll take you inside. It’s late, but they should all still be here. Today was a sitting day.”

“So the council is your only government?” Squid asked. “You don’t have an Administrator?”

Ernest shook his head. “I don’t know what an Administrator is.”

“He’s the head of our government,” Squid said. “Well, sort of above the government. The most important person, apart from the High Priestess, and, well, she’s the one who’s running the Territory at the moment. The Administrator is usually in charge, though,” Squid said. He paused for a moment, realizing he wasn’t doing a very good job of explaining. “It’s a position that’s passed down from father to son.” He saw Nim watching him while he said that last part. Nim had overheard what Squid’s mother had told him. Mr. Stix and Mr. Stownes knew that Sister Constance was Squid’s mother, but he hadn’t told them anything about the Administrator being his father. Nim had kept the secret too, and for that Squid was thankful.

“That sounds more like a king to me,” Ernest said. “A bit old-fashioned, ain’t it? A bit like bloody oppressive nonsense.”

“So, how does it work here then?” Squid said.

“We vote, of course,” Ernest said. “The people of Reach choose who gets to be on the Council of Five.”

“You choose your own government?” Squid asked.

“Of course,” Ernest said. “People nominate to be on the council and there’s a vote every three years. That’s democracy.”

Squid had never heard the word “democracy.” People choosing their own government; that didn’t sound like anything that would happen in the Territory, but the more he thought about it, the more Squid realized that it was a much better idea than just making someone the Administrator because their father had had the job before them, especially if that person was him.

Ernest led the group down the path of stones set in the grass toward the front of the Council Building. Squid felt a nervousness rising within him. He thought back to when he had been taken to see the Administrator, and had had to face down that large man and his intimidating stare. Not just any man, Squid thought, his father. He was concerned that the ruling council of Reach would be much like the Administrator – a symbol of power, held high above all the other people in the Territory – and maybe they wouldn’t help at all, but as he and the others were led through the doors and into the building Squid soon began to think that maybe that wouldn’t be the case. The Council Building had none of the formality of Government House. The ceilings were low and the walls adorned with occasional paintings or hangings, nothing like the high-bannered ceilings and rows of portraits decorating the Administrator’s domain.

Ernest strode confidently. He didn’t move the way the Holy Order or the Diggers had done as they had walked around Government House; even they trod carefully around that place. He took them to a single wooden door, no bigger or more decorative than any other. A plaque affixed to the door read “Council Meeting Room.” He turned back to Squid and the others.

“Just wait here a sec and I’ll check whether they can see you now.”

Ernest knocked.

“Enter,” came a voice from inside.

Ernest did so, disappearing into the room and closing the door behind him. Squid could hear muffled voices beyond. It was only a moment before Ernest emerged again.

“They’re happy to see you now,” he said. “Come on in.”

The Council Meeting Room itself was simple, a small room with a large window looking out on the grass and trees at the front of the building. The sun, very low in the sky now, shone yellow and bright through the window, the wooden grilles separating the window panes casting a pattern of shadow over the large table in the center of the room. Five people sat around the table, three men and two women. Two of them, one of the men and one of the women, were young, much younger than Squid had expected, really only a few years older than him or Nim.

“Hello there,” one of the men said, an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and streaks of gray through his short black beard, which he wore in the same style as Ernest. “My name is Charles Westermill, Chair of the Reach Council of Five. You must be our guests from the Central Territory. It is quite a surprise to have you here. We’re not in the habit of receiving visitors from your direction.”

“No,” Squid said, “normally we’re not allowed beyond the fence.”

Charles Westermill nodded. “Yes, I understand you live under the strict rules of your church, but First Sergeant Durst here tells me you escaped.”

Squid nodded. He didn’t like lying, but at the time it had seemed like a better idea than trying to explain everything that had happened. He didn’t suppose he could change that story now, and anyway, he was beginning to see it might actually be a fairly accurate description.

“And you want to go to New Sydney?”

“That’s right,” Squid said.

“On what business?” another of the councilors asked, the younger woman. She had a long blonde plait that hung forward over her shoulder. In many ways she reminded Squid of Lynn; in fact, he was pretty sure that was exactly what Lynn’s hair would look like if she grew it long again. It was pretty hair. He felt a pang in his stomach. He missed her.

“There’s a prophecy,” Squid said. “The prophet Steven said that the survivor of a great battle would be a boy who would find a weapon that would destroy the curse of the ghouls.”

“And I suppose that’s you?” asked the youngest man on the council, who couldn’t have been much older than twenty.

Squid nodded. “That’s what people have told me.”

“What battle did you survive?” the man asked.

“There was a horde of ghouls, thousands and thousands that got through our fence. The Diggers – our fighting force – went to battle against them but were destroyed.”

Charles was nodding knowingly. “That enormous pack of suckers that came through a number of months ago. We lost many Runners to them. I’m sorry to hear they made it through your fence. I have certainly never seen or heard of a pack so large before.”

“Runners?” Mr. Stix said. “You send people out there, to distract them?”

“That’s right,” Councilor Westermill said. “Mostly they have committed a crime and are serving as a Runner to have their crimes remitted. They’re well trained. It’s a dangerous job, of course, but a necessary one. They lead ghouls away from our borders, try to drag them into the desert and lose them out there.”

“And that just sends them toward us,” Mr. Stix said, sounding somewhat angry.

“Possibly, but almost every envoy of Reach who has gone to the Central Territory, be it by accident or with an offer to trade, doesn’t return. Those who do make it back speak of barely escaping your red-cloaked Holy Order, who attempt to capture or kill them on sight. Let’s not get into a discussion of relations between our two settlements.”

“Most people aren’t like that,” Squid said. “Most people in the Territory don’t even know you’re out here, and they don’t like the Holy Order. The fence breach has left many innocent people in danger. The horde of ghouls is heading for Alice, and too many people will die if I don’t find this weapon.”

“Generations of people have searched for the cure in New Sydney,” the young woman said. “None has succeeded. We can only conclude it isn’t there.”

Squid looked at her. “I have to at least try.”

Charles Westermill looked to Ernest, who still stood beside Squid near the door. “Do you vouch for them if we give them supplies, First Sergeant?”

“Aye,” Ernest said.

“And are you willing to take them to the outpost and show them the tunnels?”

Ernest turned his attention to Squid, thinking for a moment. “Aye,” he said slowly and not, Squid noticed, very enthusiastically. “I’ll take ’em to the tunnels, but I’ll be damned if I’m going down there with ’em. Sorry, Squid.”

Squid shrugged. “That’s okay,” he said.

“Good then,” Charles Westermill said. “We would ask only that if you do succeed where so many others have failed, then you return here so that whatever you find can aid us in our defense as well.”

“Of course,” Squid said. “There is one other thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

“We need weapons.”

Mr. Stix had a smile on his face. He was looking down at the two mechanical pistols in his hands.

“Might not be mine,” he said, turning them over and then holding one out as if he was going to shoot, “but nice all the same.”

The Council of Five had been generous, allowing the group to choose any weapons they liked from the Border Patrol’s armory. Nim, Squid and Mr. Stix had each taken a shortsword and sheath to hang from their belts. Mr. Stownes had selected an enormous bladed cleaver that most people would struggle to carry, and strapped it to his back as if it were no heavier than a hatchet. He also took a mechanical rifle, and of course Mr. Stix had been overjoyed when he’d seen the two mechanical pistols.

They had spent the night on the floor of Ernest’s small house a few streets from the Council Building. The first sergeant had been kind enough to feed them what bread and cheese he could that morning for breakfast, and now that they had collected their weapons they were ready to depart. The armory had also provided each of them with a water bag and a backpack, as well as some dried fruits and meats designed to be carried on long journeys beyond the borders of Reach. As they prepared to depart Squid felt better equipped and more confident than he had at any other time during his long adventure. The generosity of the Council of Five made him realize that the Administrator, his father, had set them up for failure from the very beginning.