friend of mine that way once,’ I said, thinking of Neil at the vampire castle and trying not to be impressed by her insight. ‘But it wasn’t a woman.’
‘Really? That surprises me.’
‘Well…’ I thought about it. ‘He called himself Uncle Bertie,’ I said slowly. ‘But he said he had no sex.’
‘He was a woman,’ said Eleanor casually. ‘Bet on it. Women are subtle. Men go for blood and gore.’
She was right, I thought. The more I thought about it, the more her analysis seemed correct. Very impressiveindeed…I tore myself back to the present and tried to regain a little of the upper hand. ‘So…you believe these murders were done by a male?’
‘By a man,’ she corrected. ‘A human man. Wolves don’t murder. Neither do other animals, so that rules out a wild dog. Wolves and dogs kill for food. Humans are the murderers. So, yes, this was done by a man. Messily.’
‘Not by a woman in self-defence? You can’t always kill neatly if you’re taken by surprise.’
Again the charming smile. Her teeth were so nearly Truenorm. ‘Two cases of self-defence in two weeks? That’s a very careless woman. Besides, how could a woman inflict so much damage—so much messy damage—in self-defence?’
‘All right then. Say the murderer is a man. A human-type man, not a werewolf. Why did he do it?’
‘That I can’t tell you. They weren’t nice people. I imagine quite a few people are delighted to see them gone.’
‘Down at Black Stump they think the murderer is a Wanderer, who’s left the district. Well, Gloucester doesn’t, but the others do.’
‘Black Stump thinks well of everyone,’ said Eleanor. ‘I’d like to think they were right.’
‘But you don’t?’
Eleanor shrugged. Like Dusty’s, her shrug was slightly wrong. ‘Call it animal instinct. I just have the feeling that something…smells bad. There’s still danger in the air.’ She smiled. ‘Probably just a pregnant woman’s nerves. But a wandering murderer seems too convenient to be true.’
‘So you think we are still looking for someone in the valley,’ I said. ‘Let’s look at the first murder then.’
‘Ah, the Patriarch. I have no idea what his real name was. One man, eight wives, and every one of them is a clone of the Patriarch.’
‘What! How can women be a clone of a man?’ My mind scrolled back to long-stored data, absorbed when my mind meshed with any network storage system that I chose. ‘Yes,’ I said slowly, ‘it would be possible. Select a single cell for cloning, then replace the Y chromosone with an X from another cell. Same person, different sex…’
‘Well done.’ It was impossible to tell if she meant it or was just flattering me. ‘Every child is a clone too. That’s the way it’s been for, what, four generations now.’
‘That’s incredible. Surely someone should stop them?’
‘Who? You’re in the Outlands now.’
‘But why would you want to live with yourself? Mate with yourself…’ I halted. I was sitting opposite a woman who had married her brother, who’s parents had been brothers and sisters. I hoped she couldn’t smell my embarrassment.
She could. She looked amused. ‘Some people don’t like outsiders. They just take it to the extremes. The Patriach was bad enough. He wouldn’t even let his young be part of the school Net with the cubs. The Matriach—the next clone in line was female—is worse.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Two of the junior members came up here last night. Tried to burn us out.’
‘What! It’s hard to burn living wood. Are they stupid too?’
‘Not stupid. I imagine it was symbolic. A warning. Spread enough oil around, light it, see the wolves run.They didn’t get that far of course. Dusty and Emerald smelt them out before they got past the fence. They left the oil and torches behind when they ran.’
Which explains the lookout now, I thought. ‘Well, at least none of his wives murdered him as he was really them too—if you
‘Really? That surprises me.’
‘Well…’ I thought about it. ‘He called himself Uncle Bertie,’ I said slowly. ‘But he said he had no sex.’
‘He was a woman,’ said Eleanor casually. ‘Bet on it. Women are subtle. Men go for blood and gore.’
She was right, I thought. The more I thought about it, the more her analysis seemed correct. Very impressiveindeed…I tore myself back to the present and tried to regain a little of the upper hand. ‘So…you believe these murders were done by a male?’
‘By a man,’ she corrected. ‘A human man. Wolves don’t murder. Neither do other animals, so that rules out a wild dog. Wolves and dogs kill for food. Humans are the murderers. So, yes, this was done by a man. Messily.’
‘Not by a woman in self-defence? You can’t always kill neatly if you’re taken by surprise.’
Again the charming smile. Her teeth were so nearly Truenorm. ‘Two cases of self-defence in two weeks? That’s a very careless woman. Besides, how could a woman inflict so much damage—so much messy damage—in self-defence?’
‘All right then. Say the murderer is a man. A human-type man, not a werewolf. Why did he do it?’
‘That I can’t tell you. They weren’t nice people. I imagine quite a few people are delighted to see them gone.’
‘Down at Black Stump they think the murderer is a Wanderer, who’s left the district. Well, Gloucester doesn’t, but the others do.’
‘Black Stump thinks well of everyone,’ said Eleanor. ‘I’d like to think they were right.’
‘But you don’t?’
Eleanor shrugged. Like Dusty’s, her shrug was slightly wrong. ‘Call it animal instinct. I just have the feeling that something…smells bad. There’s still danger in the air.’ She smiled. ‘Probably just a pregnant woman’s nerves. But a wandering murderer seems too convenient to be true.’
‘So you think we are still looking for someone in the valley,’ I said. ‘Let’s look at the first murder then.’
‘Ah, the Patriarch. I have no idea what his real name was. One man, eight wives, and every one of them is a clone of the Patriarch.’
‘What! How can women be a clone of a man?’ My mind scrolled back to long-stored data, absorbed when my mind meshed with any network storage system that I chose. ‘Yes,’ I said slowly, ‘it would be possible. Select a single cell for cloning, then replace the Y chromosone with an X from another cell. Same person, different sex…’
‘Well done.’ It was impossible to tell if she meant it or was just flattering me. ‘Every child is a clone too. That’s the way it’s been for, what, four generations now.’
‘That’s incredible. Surely someone should stop them?’
‘Who? You’re in the Outlands now.’
‘But why would you want to live with yourself? Mate with yourself…’ I halted. I was sitting opposite a woman who had married her brother, who’s parents had been brothers and sisters. I hoped she couldn’t smell my embarrassment.
She could. She looked amused. ‘Some people don’t like outsiders. They just take it to the extremes. The Patriach was bad enough. He wouldn’t even let his young be part of the school Net with the cubs. The Matriach—the next clone in line was female—is worse.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Two of the junior members came up here last night. Tried to burn us out.’
‘What! It’s hard to burn living wood. Are they stupid too?’
‘Not stupid. I imagine it was symbolic. A warning. Spread enough oil around, light it, see the wolves run.They didn’t get that far of course. Dusty and Emerald smelt them out before they got past the fence. They left the oil and torches behind when they ran.’
Which explains the lookout now, I thought. ‘Well, at least none of his wives murdered him as he was really them too—if you
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