"I knew it!" shouted the Overseer. "There's always one!"
Arthur snapped his head back. For a horrible second he thought the Overseer was talking to him, then he saw the squat figure was standing over one of the Denizens at the other end of the line.
"Swift healer for sure," declared the Overseer. "When were you branded?"
"Yesterday, when I arrived," replied the Denizen dejectedly. "But I don't always heal swiftly, sir. Sometimes it takes days."
"Days! That brand's supposed to last a year. I'll have to ear- or nose-clip you instead. Stand up."
"Oh, sir, please, I'd prefer another branding."
"We don't care wot you want!" roared the Overseer. He rummaged around in his coat pockets and eventually pulled out a shiny metal disc that was several inches in diameter. "Where do you want it?"
"Oh, the nose," grumbled the Denizen. The Overseer grunted and touched the disc to the Denizen's ear. There was a small flash of light, a sizzling sound, and the disc was hanging off the Denizen's earlobe just like an oversized earring.
"I said my -"
Before the Denizen could say any more he was clouted to the ground by the Overseer's large fist.
Sensibly, the downed Denizen lay there, obviously struggling to keep his mouth shut. The Overseer sighed again and rubbed his knuckles.
"Now then, anybody else a swiftie?"
Arthur thought very swiftly indeed and raised his hand. The Overseer lumbered down the line.
"Oh, it's dropped-on-the-head. You sure you know what we're talking about? Show us your sole."
Arthur lay back, slipped off his clog and sock, and showed his bare foot. The Overseer bent down with considerable creaking and grunting and whistled between his front teeth.
"Completely gone! Orright, get up and I'll give you a nose-clip."
"Great, I've always wanted a big round thing in my nose," suggested Arthur as he stood up. He instinctively knew better than to ask for it in his ear straight out.
"Or? um? jangling on my lip."
"Keep yer lip to yerself," snarled the Overseer. He held the disc out and laughed as Arthur flinched. Then he touched the disc to the boy's left ear.
Arthur felt a stab of pain that went right through his ear and into his head, where it bounced around between his eyes. The pain was so intense, he staggered back. He would have fallen if he wasn't caught by Japeth.
"Slow and sensitive!" roared the Overseer. "You have to stand on yer own feet here!"
"He's one of the Piper's children," retorted Japeth. "They're different. They were mortals once."
"No special cases here!" shouted the Overseer. He threw a punch at Japeth. Strangely, though Japeth didn't move, the punch missed, as if the Overseer had pulled it on purpose.
Despite his mind being mainly focused on the throbbing pain behind his eye sockets, Arthur still managed to wonder why the Overseer was so loud. The Denizen seemed to have only two modes of communication: loud and deafening.
"No more backchat or I'll steam the lot of you!" roared the Overseer. He consulted his piece of paper.
"Orright! You lot are now called Gang 205117. Remember that! Gang 20 -" He looked at the paper again.
"Gang 205117. You on the left, you're number one in the gang. You're number two, and you're three, and four, and five, and six, and seven -"
"He counts well, doesn't he?" whispered Japeth, who was still holding Arthur up. But the pain passed quickly, so Arthur managed to stand on his own as the Overseer pointed at him and said, "You're thirteen."
Something about that number made the Overseer stop and scratch his head. He looked at his paper again, but whatever he was looking for wasn't there.
"Ain't supposed to be thirteen," he said to himself after a long silence. "Always twelve in a gang?"
"Maybe they throw the Piper's children in extra," said Japeth, as he put out a hand to stop Arthur from swaying into him. "For free. As a bonus, premium, or frill -"
"Shut up!" roared the Overseer. "You, Number Thirteen! You're one of the Piper's children?"
"Y-yes," stuttered Arthur.
"You're not a messenger? Piper's children is always messengers down here."
"No," said Arthur. "I'm not a messenger."
"Thrown in as an extra, then," said the Overseer with satisfaction. His brow cleared at having solved this mighty puzzle and he looked at his paper again and slowly read out the next instruction, pausing every now and then to puzzle over a word or pick off a spot that had obscured the type.
"Gang insert-number-here. You are about to begin your journey to the bottom of the Pit! You will be put on the road and Number One will be given a time candle. You must reach the First Way Station before that time candle burns out. If you do not, you will be hunted down and punished. At the First Way Station you will be given another time candle and you must go on to the Second Way Station before it burns out. This system will continue until you reach Down Station, when you will be put in new gangs to work in the Pit. Praise be to Grim Tuesday!"
Finished, the Overseer folded up his paper and put it back in a pocket. Then he fished around in almost every other pocket before finally dragging out a tall white candle marked with red bands a fingerbreadth apart. As soon as the Denizen who was now Number One took it, the candle burst into flame. The
Denizens all stared at it, their faces registering shock, horror, and distaste. Arthur stared at the candle too. Its lighting had brought home to him, and everyone else, that they really were on their way down to the unknown horrors of the Pit.
"Get going," roared the Overseer.
But as Number One stepped out, the Overseer raised his visor and muttered something. It took Arthur a second to realize that, like the Supply Clerk, what he'd said was, "Good luck."
Arthur was surprised that an Overseer would wish them luck, and worried that they would need it. He almost said something as he went past, but the Overseer had already snapped his visor down and the next lot of downcast Denizens was coming out of the smog from up the line.
Arthur's own gang was heading down, walking in single file next to the railway tracks, with Number One setting a quick walking pace. Arthur hesitated for a moment, but, as before, he had no real choice. He couldn't go back up. There was only the edge of the Pit on the other side of the tracks.
He had to follow the rest of the gang and descend into the smoky darkness.
Chapter Seven
Number One didn't slacken his pace, and for several hours he didn't stop at all. Arthur was hard put to keep up at a walk, and occasionally had to run to catch up. As the wall of the Pit rose up on his left and the service road grew narrower and closer to the railway, Arthur began to get an idea of just how vast the Pit must be. The railway and the road that ran next to it were clearly cut into the side of the Pit, following the edge around in one huge spiral from top to bottom. It was impossible to see with all the smog, but the curve was so gentle that Arthur eventually figured that the Pit must be miles in diameter.
Arthur had no idea how deep it was. He asked Japeth, who also didn't know. Japeth asked Number Eleven in front of him, but that Denizen shook her head and wouldn't answer. None of the other Denizens talked at all. They just followed Number One with their heads bent, eyes fixed on their clogs or the heels of the Denizen in front of them. Occasionally one would look up anxiously and try to get a clear view of the bands remaining on the time candle.
They walked for hours without seeing anything of interest, save for occasional piles of broken train parts piled up next to the line. The Grim's train clearly suffered a lot of broken axles, snapped connecting rods, corroded pistons, chipped wheels, and other damage. Probably because it was affected by Nothing at the bottom of the Pit, Arthur guessed.