Watson, Ian - Black Current 01 by The Book Of The River (v1.1)

           I
ought to have been feeling intensely curious about what Capsi would report, as
pre-arranged, at dawn the next day. Yet when it was a question of why women were
being burned alive, "curiosity" hardly seemed the right description
of my feelings. I . . . dreaded to know the answer. And as to the facts of life
on the west bank, well of course I felt some superficial curiosity—but how much
of it could Capsi satisfy effectively within the first few days? I was
leaving. Soon. And I had no wish to sail away and yet
remain in mental thrall to these observers forever more, impelled to dash back
constantly to hear the latest. If I acted in that style, why, Capsi would have
made me a slave of his for life, on a chain as long as the river!
                 Selfish little Yaleen? No, not really. Only sensible, I'd
have said. . . .
                 Sensible? Hardly! I soon began fretting that by taking up
temporary residence on the Spire I might have identified myself too visibly
with the observer men, prompting some busybody in Verrino to ask the question:
why?
                 I
realize now that I was in a very confused emotional state, about what I'd done
and what Capsi had undertaken. I wished to flee, but had to stay—and vice versa! By six o'clock I found myself hesitating at the top of the
stairs, craving a drink in town and ordinary chatter around me. I had to pull
myself up sharpish and retrace my steps to my room, because actually I was
almost ready to keel over in exhaustion and tumble all the way down into town.
                 So
back to my chamber I crept. Then, without my quite knowing how it happened,
Hasso was standing by my bedside—where I lay fully dressed.
                 "No!"
I cried, blinking at him.
                 And
he chuckled, indicating the faint grey light beyond the mul- lion.
                 "Dawn's breaking, Yaleen."
                 "What?"
                 "I
thought I'd best come and fetch you—just in case you slept right through. I'm
sure you'd never have forgiven me for that ."
                 When
the light of the heliograph blinked out, half an hour later, it came from
almost opposite Verrino. But we could be fairly sure that no one else would see
it. It was very low, and we were high; and besides, who else would be looking
out for a signal light from that direction?
                 Today's
message was longer.
                 Went inland. Avoided contact. Hid near town. All females wear black, confirmed. Town is shabby, poor, dirt-agric. Plus pigs, chickens, goats. Mining activity south side hills, thus reason for location. Male
and female workers. Overheard passers-by on track. Same language, few strange words, accent thick but imitable. Diving suit worked a dream. Black current fifteen spans deep approx. Same time tomorrow. End.
     
                 So
there was nothing to do till then. Unless I wished to pore
over panoramas and grub through records of past observations and hearsay from
Ajelobo to Umdala; which I did not.
                 I
could just as easily have stayed in town, and climbed up every day before dawn!
                 Perhaps. Perhaps that mightn't have been quite so easy in
poor light. . . .
                 After
a breakfast of black bread, raw fish and pickles in the refectory I decided
that I should certainly spend the day in town, and slipped quietly away.
                 Not
quietly enough, however. Hasso caught up with me halfway down the spiralling
steps.
                 "Yaleen,
would you let me treat you to lunch? Please."
                 "Lunch,"
I pointed out, "is four or five hours away."
                 "Well,
I don't mind waiting, if you don't."
                 "Did
they send you along to keep an eye on me?"
                 "Of course not. What