"And we'll need the saltshaker off the luncheon corner of my board, Miss Blue, if you don't mind. Likely Old Tuesday will have left some Fetchers aboard."
Arthur separated out the pile of coats into half a dozen garments. One looked to be his size, so he happily discarded his apron and tried it on. The coat fit perfectly. Despite its weight, it was very cool and very soft, and Arthur immediately liked it.
"Star-hood in the collar," said Tom. He put on a brightcoat himself and took the huge silver saltshaker from Suzy and put it in his pocket. Then he folded up his collar and unfurled a hood that was made from what Arthur thought must be loosely woven starlight. It sparkled and shimmered, barely visible, save for the faint outline where it touched Tom's hands.
"Drag it right over, you won't come to harm," Tom instructed. He pulled the hood completely over his face and down to the top button of his coat, where it fastened with a single press of his thumb.
"Immaterial Boots on and you'll be equipped for any trouble of a starry nature," said Tom. "Just remember to pull your hands into your sleeves if it gets a little hot. Not that you need any of this gear aboard the Helios, as I call her, but it's best to be prepared - we might have some trouble docking."
"What do we dock with? What's at the center of that star?" Arthur asked as he struggled to get the Immaterial Boots on. As soon as his feet were snug, they rippled and changed shape to look like his normal runners. Suzy's became shiny patent leather half-boots.
"A place Grim Tuesday made," Tom replied. "That's all I can say. It may be a little hot disembarking there, and hotter still when it's time to sail away. Are you ready?"
"I'm ready," said Suzy.
"I just want to look at the register," said Arthur. He walked over to look at the bronze-bound book. It was about two feet thick, with very thin paper like onionskin. The open page was printed up with headings and lines, and had some clear copperplate writing filling in each section, obviously copied from the yellow forms that were on the spike.
There was number, occupation, former name, origin, misdemeanors, punishments, and the same headings Arthur had seen on Japeth's indenture card,
EARNINGS and OWING.
The figures under earnings and owing changed as Arthur watched, written in clear numerals unlike the copperplate hand that had to be Tom's.
"One of Grim Tuesday's conceits," said Tom darkly. "The register can write everything itself, but he enjoys setting me to enter the new arrivals. That register took over for more than two thousand clerks. Freed them up to go down the Pit."
"I have to destroy it," said Arthur. "So the indentured workers can be freed."
"Many's the time I've tried to rip it apart or wrench it from the table," said Tom. He was bent over the bottles, carefully reaching across to get one that shone with a clear yellow light. "Grim Tuesday makes strong stuff, particularly when it's got slavery at the heart of it."
Arthur tried to rip out the open page. But he couldn't get a grip. His fingers slid off. Then he tried to pick up the book, but it didn't budge at all. It felt like a solid lump of metal bolted to a concrete block.
"I promised Japeth I'd free him and the other workers," said Arthur. He put both his hands on the open pages of the register and took the deepest breath he could manage.
"I, Arthur, Lord Monday, Master of the Lower House, call upon the power of the First Key to destroy this register! Turn every page to dust and? and break its binding into fragments!"
Arthur's hands got hot and smoke billowed out from under his palms. But the book didn't turn to dust or explode into fragments. When Arthur stepped back, it looked just the same.
"Made with the Second Key," said Suzy. " 'Spect you need that to destroy it."
Arthur didn't reply. He stared down at the register, watching the owing figure increase for some poor Denizen who had the former name Sargarol and was now just a thirteen-digit number and Driller Fifth Class.
As he stared, a yellow form fluttered out of the air and landed next to the book. Arthur picked it up, expecting to see the record of a newly indentured worker. But this was a telegram, just five lines of uneven capital letters from some really old typewriter that said:
CAPTAIN STOP THIEVES IN TOWER
STOP SLAY ALL INTRUDERS STOP
NO EXCEPTIONS STOP REPORT ANY
INCIDENT IMMEDIATELY STOP
GRIM TUESDAY END
Chapter Fifteen
Arthur glanced across at Tom. The old mariner was rearranging the bottles, intent on his task. Without looking directly at the telegram, Arthur slowly dropped his hand over it and then slid it across the table towards his waist. He coughed as he crumpled the paper to disguise the noise, and thrust the balled-up telegram deep into the pocket of his brightcoat.
"How do we get inside?" Suzy asked as she bent over to look inside the bottle Tom had carefully placed in front of her. "Is that the sunship?"
"The Helios. A fine vessel, one of the finest in my fleet. Though she sails with the solar winds of space rather than on the seas I love, I rate her as my third most favorite ship, after the sloop Polly Parbuckle and my Ophiran quinquereme."
"Looks like a metal turtle," said Suzy. She looked at Tom and quickly added,
"No insult meant, your honor."
"None taken, young miss," Tom replied. "She does look like a metal turtle, and that's a fine shape for sun-faring. Now, I'll ask you to place your left hand upon the bottle and look deep at my Helios while I ready the spell to take us in. Mind you - stare at the ship and not at one of the planets or the sun itself. Are you ready, Arthur?"
Arthur hesitated. Having experienced the awfulness of the Pit firsthand, he really wanted to destroy the register and free the indentured workers before he headed into the sunship.
"What if you helped me take the register?" he asked Tom, struck by a sudden idea. "You're the son of the Old One. I've got some of the power of the First Key. Maybe together we'd be strong enough to remove it?"
"Remove it together? Perchance we could," said Tom. "But what then?"
"Could we drop it into the sun we're going to visit?" asked Arthur. "Out of the sunship?"
"Aye, we could. But that might not destroy it. It depends upon the protections Grim Tuesday wove into its making."
"Oh? and I guess if we drop it in the sun it would just keep on working and we couldn't even get it back to try and destroy it some other way."
Tom shook his head. "If it was not destroyed, it would find its way back here. That is the nature of such artifacts."
"Maybe we could drop it into the Pit and it would be destroyed by Nothing," Arthur offered. He reached up and felt the outline of the Atlas in his pocket. "I'll ask the Atlas."
"The Atlas? The Compleat Atlas of the House}" asked Tom, with obvious surprise. "You have it?"
"Yes," answered Arthur. "Why?"
"It disappeared at the same time as Mother, ten thousand years ago," replied Tom. "It is one of her greatest works, after the House itself and the Secondary Realms."
Arthur took out the little green notebook and looked at it. It was certainly useful sometimes, but he hadn't really thought of it as anything much more than a faintly annoying and difficult-to-use database. Though it had helped him to escape the Scoucher? and had shown him the direction to the Treasure Tower?
"I guess it is kind of amazing," he said without conviction. Then, in case the book had feelings and might be offended, he continued, "I mean really amazing. And helpful. I'll ask it if the register of indentured workers can be destroyed by dropping it into the sun."