Geomancer (Well of Echoes) (16 page)

‘Crystal fever happens! The papers are in order,’ said the woman. ‘Besides, she’s a virgin. There’s good money to be made and it all goes into our pockets.’

‘But what if …?’

‘Oh, stop whining! She won’t be on the books anyway.’

The voices faded away and Tiaan slept. Sometime later she woke and Joeyn was there.

‘Joeyn?’ she whispered. Her throat burned terribly. ‘What happened?’ She did not recognise the room at all. ‘Did I have another fit?’

‘They say you screamed for twelve hours, as if you were being burned alive.’

‘I don’t remember anything.’ It was all gone, including the dreams. The last she recalled was solving the riddle of the controller and going to bed. Her voice sounded hoarse. ‘I’ve got to get up. There’s work to do.’ Tiaan sat up, realised that she had nothing on, and hastily slid under the covers again.

‘You have to rest and get better.’

‘But I’ve two controllers to fix. No one else can do it. The war …’

‘They’ve been fixed and sent to the front a long time ago.’

‘What?’ She stared at him, uncomprehending. The world seemed to have gone mad.

‘Irisis fixed the controllers while you were … sick,’ Joeyn said as gently as he could.

She clutched at his hand. ‘It can’t be so!’

‘It is so, Tiaan.’

‘Joe, I fixed the first controller before I went to bed last night. If Irisis has done the others, she’s just copied me.’

‘Are you sure?’ He gave her a look that said he doubted her sanity.

‘Of course I’m sure!’ She told him exactly how she had shielded the controller. ‘Irisis hates me. She’s always trying to take the credit. She’d love to see me sent down.’

A spasm crossed his face, one that alarmed her.

‘Where am I?’ She looked around at the unfamiliar room. ‘This isn’t the infirmary.’

‘It’s the sickroom in the breeding factory.’

‘I hadn’t realised that I was
that
sick …’ She broke off, staring at his craggy face. His eyes shifted as if he could not face her. ‘No!’ she gasped. The very air was choking her. She opened her mouth wide, to scream.

Joeyn slapped her face, just hard enough to bring her to her senses. She broke off.

‘Don’t!’ he said. ‘Or
I’ll
think you’re mad too.’

‘
That’s
why I’ve been sold to the breeding factory? I’m not mad. Yesterday I solved …’

‘Tiaan,’ he said gently, ‘you’ve been here for more than a week, delirious the whole time. Before that, you screamed for half a day without stopping. Little wonder the healers thought your mind had gone. Gi-Had had no choice. The manufactory must have reliable artisans.’

‘Irisis has replaced
me
?’ Her voice rose dangerously.

‘Hush! She’s done better than that. By special decree she has been made acting crafter, though she is only twenty-one.’

How Irisis must be gloating. Tiaan wanted to die.

‘I won’t stay here! I’ll never submit to this place. If I can only get to Gi-Had, I’m sure I can convince him …’

‘The deed is done, Tiaan. It can’t be undone. Twice you have had mad fits and two healers have diagnosed you with incurable crystal fever. Gi-Had could not keep you on, even if he wanted to. A mad artisan is worse than none.’

‘But I’m not mad.’

‘People with crystal fever always say that. It’s no use. You are indentured to the breeding factory.’

‘But Gi-Had is a fair man …’

‘He has a manufactory to run and clankers to produce. There’s been a disaster up north, a whole cluster of clankers destroyed in a day.’

‘I heard that …’ Tiaan broke off. She had been going to say ‘yesterday’.

‘You’re a breeding-factory woman now, Tiaan. Artisan Tiaan is gone forever. I’m so sorry.’ There were tears in his eyes.

The door opened. A big woman who could only have been the matron hurried in. ‘Visiting time is over. Say your goodbyes. Tiaan needs her rest.
Her first day is coming up
!’ She hurried out again.

Only then did the horror fully strike Tiaan. Her work, her life, her very existence had been taken away. All that was left was the profession she despised most in the world. The urge to scream was almost irresistible. She opened her mouth, saw the look on Joeyn’s face and quickly closed it again. ‘I won’t be a woman of the breeding factory,
ever
!’ she hissed. Only her rage stopped her from collapsing.

‘I don’t see …’ he said doubtfully.

‘I’m not mad. I’ll run away.’

‘In time of war, refusing to do your appointed job is treason.’

‘
Men
don’t get sent to breeding factories!’

‘And women aren’t sent to the front-lines to be slaughtered, like my sons,’ he said softly. ‘I did not say it was fair, Tiaan, just that there’s nothing can be done about it.’

‘I won’t stay here. This place disgusts me.’

‘A runaway on the road has no place, no rights. Anyone can enslave you or strike you down without penalty.’

‘I don’t care!’ she raged. ‘I will give myself to no man save of my own choosing.’

‘Times change. The war …’

‘Curse the damned war! It’s just an excuse to take our rights away. Joeyn, you said you would help me if ever I needed it. I’ve never needed it more.’

He looked anxious. For her, she knew, not himself. ‘Of course I’ll help you, if you have truly made up your mind. What do you want me to do?’

‘Go to my room in the manufactory and, if it has not been cleared, bring away my clothes, journal and tool bag, and my wire globe and helm. And there’s a book!’ She explained where she had hidden the copy of Nunar’s treatise. ‘Keep it hidden. I’m not supposed to have it.’

‘Tiaan, the crystal was the source of your madness. If you ever touch one again …’

‘I’m not mad!’ she said vehemently.

The door opened, the matron again. ‘Time for visitors to go.
Now!
’

‘Please, Joeyn,’ Tiaan said.

He nodded and went out.

‘Disgusting old man!’ said Matron. ‘We’d certainly not use
him
here. Out of bed!’ She hauled Tiaan out by the arm. ‘Stand there. Let me look at you.’

Matron inspected Tiaan like a carcass in a butcher’s shop, prodding and poking her mercilessly.

‘Hmn! Beautiful hair, though a terrible cut. Looks like it was done with an axe. Nice eyes – unusual colour. Good skin, apart from a few minor blemishes, though we’ll soon fix them. Nose, not as broad as they like, but it’ll do. Ears …’

She brushed back Tiaan’s hair. ‘Oh yes, very neat.’

‘Such dark lips – they’ll go for that. Open your mouth. Teeth’s where they mostly fall down. Hmn, not too bad, at least they’re all there. Those two could be a bit straighter but nobody’s perfect.’ She checked Tiaan’s gums, her tongue, her throat, muttering to herself all the while.

‘Good, good! No disease, no sores.’ She moved Tiaan’s head from side to side and made some marks on a slate. ‘Head, eight out of ten. Or should that be seven and a half? Smile for me, please?’

Tiaan felt like biting Matron’s hand off, but at the same time, inexplicably, she wanted to do well on the test. She smiled.

‘Oh, very good. Dimples, too. Definitely an eight!’

Matron continued. ‘Shoulders a bit narrow. Still, many like them that way. No accounting for folk!’ Her own shoulders were almost an axe-handle across and heavily larded. ‘Hmn! You’re scrawny, girl. Not much demand for that look around here. We’ll soon fatten you up, though.’ She rattled a knuckle down Tiaan’s ribs, weighed her breasts in big, damp hands. ‘Not bad; not bad at all. Could be bigger, especially the left one, but I can’t see too many complaints.’ She flicked a nipple with her fingertip until it stood up, then moved on.

Her belly was not full enough, her pubic hair too coarse and curly, her thighs too slender, her feet definitely too big. And last was the worst. ‘Oh dear, just look at these hands! What have you been doing, girl? Your hands are as rough as a navvy’s, and there’s a festering splinter in your finger.’

Her figure only rated six and a half, though Matron supposed she could bring that up a point with some proper feeding and grooming. ‘Overall, better than I expected. Especially after – well, let’s not go into that. I think we’ve made a good buy after all. Come along now, there’s a lot of work to do.’

‘Work?’ said Tiaan, feeling dazed.

‘Bath, manicure, haircut, skin-polishing – we’ll be lucky to be finished by dinnertime.’

Two attendants bathed Tiaan in a tub so large that a horse could have comfortably stood in the middle, and it was full of
hot
water. Tiaan was staggered at the extravagance. At the manufactory, being too shy to use the communal bathhouse, she washed with cold water in a dish and yellow, caustic soap that stung her eyes. Tiaan could not remember ever having a hot bath.

They kept her in until she felt dizzy and her fingers and toes were wrinkled. The attendants fed her in the bath – spicy pastries, sweetmeats soaked in honey and cream, bowls of preserved fruit covered in sweet yoghurt – and kept urging more on her long after she was full. To lie in the hot water was one of the strangest feelings she’d ever had. It felt sinfully lazy and wicked. The attendants got in too, scrubbing her until her skin throbbed.

After that she was helped to a low table covered with a cloth, where they rubbed perfumed creams into her skin, massaging her until her muscles felt as loose as jelly. They plucked out every body-hair, sanded her hands with pumice, trimmed her nails, brushed her teeth and gently shaped her hair. At the end they made up her face with the lightest of touches.

One attendant held a mirror out. Tiaan was stunned. She looked transformed; almost beautiful. She wondered if, just possibly, she could endure the breeding factory after all.

Matron reappeared. ‘Not bad!’ she said, head cocked to one side. ‘Better than I expected. We’ll do well out of you, my girl. Show me your hands.’

Tiaan held them out. Matron frowned. ‘Better, but still a long way to go. We’ll have dim lights for your first time, and a bold tapestry at the head of the bed. And a low-cut gown. How long ago was she fed?’

‘Two hours,’ said the little, sandy-haired attendant.

‘Feed her again.’ Matron turned to go. ‘No, first we must see to the formalities. Come with me.’

‘Where are we going?’ Tiaan asked anxiously.

‘To my office. There’s nothing to worry about.’

Tiaan
was
worried. Matron’s grip on her wrist was unshakeable. They went along the corridor, up a flight of stairs, around a corner and through a heavy door. The small room contained a desk piled with papers, documents, a large tray of biscuits and several mugs, partly full of some dark, oily brew.

‘Sit down!’ Matron slumped into a chair on the other side of the table. Taking a biscuit, she pushed the tray towards Tiaan. ‘Have a handful. They’ll do you good.’ She turned to a cupboard which she unlocked with a small key. There were a number of books and ledgers inside, though evidently not the one she was looking for. ‘Where is the damn thing?’ she muttered, sorting distractedly through the piles on the table.

Her excavations uncovered another ledger which she picked up, frowned at, then put down as someone rapped on the door. An aged attendant put his head around. ‘Yes?’ she snapped.

‘It’s … one of the clients is making rather a fuss, matron. Too much to drink. And little Zizza is quite hysterical. You’d better come quickly.’

Matron looked furious, but heaved her bulk out of the chair, glancing at Tiaan. ‘I’ll just take her back …’

A scream came echoing down the corridor, followed by drunken roars and the sound of breaking glass being smashed. Matron was through the door in an instant. ‘Wait here, Tiaan. Don’t touch anything.’ She disappeared.

Tiaan sat for a while, then bored, began to flip through the papers on the table. They were all tedious administrative or financial documents. She put them back as she had found them, uncovering the ledger. On the front it said
Bloodline Register 4102, Tiksi
.

Inside she found a list of women’s names with numbers after them. Page numbers, presumably. Tiaan turned the first page. The name at the top was Numini Tisde, a woman she had met here once. The page was ruled into columns, with dates, notes on her monthly cycle, health, male names with descriptions as well as lists of abilities, talents and ancestral details, baldly intimate details about sexual congress, and a variety of symbols and abbreviations that meant nothing to Tiaan. Occasional rows contained details related to pregnancy – weight changes, complications, miscarriages and births: six in eleven years, though only four were still living.

She turned the page. A different name was at the top, though the same kinds of entries were present. Tiaan closed the cover, appalled. It was a
stud book
!

It had just occurred to her to look up her mother’s entry when she heard Matron’s voice outside. Tiaan sat back in the chair and tried to assume a bored air.

Matron thrust the door open, red-faced and breathing heavily. Stamping across the room, she fell into her chair. ‘Some people just aren’t worth feeding!’ Her eyes raked Tiaan. ‘I hope you’re not one of them.’

Tiaan lowered her eyes in what she hoped was modest incomprehension.

Matron went through the litter again. ‘What the blazes was I doing?’ She pulled out a stamped and sealed parchment, stared at it for a moment then tossed it aside. ‘Ah, I remember.’ With an air of triumph she withdrew a set of documents pinned together at one corner. ‘Your indenture.’ Turning to the back page, she said, ‘Sign here!’

Tiaan took the sheets and began to read.

‘Just sign!’ Matron snarled.

‘I’m not signing anything I haven’t read,’ Tiaan said. ‘I know my rights.’

‘Give me back the indenture.’ Matron looked ferocious.

Tiaan passed it to her, quaking.

Matron placed it carefully on the cabinet behind her and stood up. Tiaan did too, wondering what was going to happen. Matron came around the desk and lashed out with her left fist. Tiaan ducked out of the way only to be clouted over the side of the head by the other hand. It knocked her sideways onto hands and knees.

Matron loomed over her. ‘Will you sign?’ she panted, her cheeks like slices of bloody liver.