“You expect me to swallow this? But—”
“Don’t be obtuse!” snapped Melissa. “A second’s thought will tell you how you will conceal it within you.”
Jan almost dropped the cylinder, but remembering that it was a bomb managed to keep hold of it. A wave of disgust spread through her as she stared at the object, seeing it in a new light. “I couldn’t. …”
“You will, like all the others who have been chosen to try and smuggle these devices on board the Sky Lord. It’s doubtful that the Sky Warriors would think to carry out such an intimate search but let us pray none of them tries to rape you.”
“Mother!” gasped Jan, profoundly shocked at hearing the obscenity of obscenities spoken aloud.
Melissa leaned forward and gripped her shoulders hard. “Jan, you can’t afford to be squeamish. You must face reality. This is war. Things that are better left unsaid, or not even contemplated, in normal times must be faced up to now. You are no longer a child!”
“And you are no longer my mother.” She had said these words without meaning to, but they had come out of her mouth even as they formed within her mind. She was not surprised when Melissa’s hand caught her a stinging blow across the cheek. Tears filled her eyes. She wanted to apologize; to beg her mother’s forgiveness, but now her mouth wouldn’t work at all.
“Go to the bathroom and do as I have instructed, now,” said Melissa in a voice that trembled with either barely suppressed fury or barely controlled pain. Without a word Jan got up from the table and went into the bathroom.
She could feel the bomb now as she stood anxiously on the rooftop of the tavern; it was uncomfortable and heavy, and it made her feel sick. She had been tempted to throw the thing away as soon as Melissa had gone but felt so guilty over what she had said to her mother she couldn’t bring herself to disobey her. Even now, as she watched her mother’s distant figure in front of the dais, she wanted to rush down to her and ask her forgiveness.
Instead she squared her shoulders and turned to face her rocket team, which consisted of Paula, a wall guard, Lisa, who worked in the bakery, and Peter, a man. The latter was still looking very sheepish about the hatchet he was obliged to carry in his belt. Jan had mixed feelings about the weapon; she doubted that Peter would be capable of using it and would therefore be useless if it came to hand to hand fighting, but at the same time the idea that he might be capable of using it profoundly disturbed her.
She gave them what she hoped looked like the calm and confident smile of someone relaxed in their authority and said, “Well, do we all know what we’re supposed to be doing, or shall we have another run-through?”
Paula answered for the others. “I don’t think it’s necessary, Mistress. Besides, it might not be wise to remove the camouflage at this late stage. The Sky Lord might be early.”
Jan winced mentally. The guard was right and had shown her up in front of the others. Yet more proof that she was unsuited for command. If her mother hadn’t been Melissa she’d probably be a weaver or a seamstress instead of walking around in armour pretending to be a warrior.
She nodded benignly at Paula. “I take your point. The Lord Pangloth has always been punctual in the past but you can’t be too careful.” Then she went and made a show of inspecting the rockets in their earthenware launch tubes under the fabric screen, which had been painted to resemble part of the roof when seen from the air. When the signal was given the camouflage would be removed, the wooden frame supporting the launch tubes put into a vertical position and then the fuses would be lit. …
Behind her she heard the hatch in the roof being opened. She turned and saw Alsa emerge on to the roof. “What are you doing here?” she exclaimed in surprise. “You should be at your post.” Jan knew that Alsa’s launching position was near the alcohol-producing plant on the other side of the town.
Alsa smiled at her. The bruise that Jan had seen forming earlier in the morning was now a purple stain that stretched from her right temple to her jaw. “I had to come and see you, little one. To wish you luck, to tell you to be careful.” She embraced Jan and kissed her.
Jan let herself enjoy the comfort of those familiar arms. Alsa had been her first lover and she remained the closest of her friends despite her often patronizing manner towards Jan of late. But then, as their kiss lingered, Jan felt herself losing control. She was in danger of bursting into tears; of clinging to Alsa and begging her not to go. …
Jan disengaged herself from Alsa’s embrace and took a step backwards. She forced herself to smile at her, though she could feel her lower lip trembling. “Be careful yourself, Alsa. And when it’s all over let’s meet downstairs for a drink.”
“It’s a date, little one. But only on condition we have the drink in one of the private rooms. We’ve been apart too long.”
“I’d like that,” Jan said, sincerely. She and Alsa hadn’t been lovers for nearly a year now but suddenly all of Jan’s old sexual feelings towards Alsa had come back with a rush. Her need for Alsa was positively intense. She couldn’t wait for the next few hours to pass and for the moment to arrive when their bodies would be entwined beneath the covers of one of the tavern’s large and cosy beds. But even as she relished this thought, a cold, dispassionate voice, coming from a dark recess of her mind, was saying: “You will never see Alsa again.”
Masking the anguish that this premonition caused her she smiled at Alsa and said, “Until later then. Take care.”
Alsa gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek. “You take care too, my little one.”
As Jan watched Alsa climb back down through the hatch she couldn’t help wondering if she was also carrying a hard and heavy cylinder of death within her.
It was one minute to twelve. Everyone was looking west towards the range of low hills on the horizon. It was from behind these hills that the Lord Pangloth always appeared but today, because of the low cloud and the showers of rain that were falling on the blight lands between Minerva and the hills, it was difficult even to distinguish their outline.
Jan fiddled nervously with the hilt of her sword as she peered in the direction of the hills. Merciful Mother God, she prayed silently, send us a miracle. Don’t let the Sky Lord appear. Let him be gone forever, struck down by lightning in the storm like that other Sky Lord of years ago. …
Twelve o’clock.
There was still no sign of the Lord Pangloth.
And then Jan felt a strange sensation. The air around her suddenly felt different. It wasn’t like a breeze but more as if the air had abruptly become heavier.
Instinctively, she looked up. “Mother God …” she murmured.
The Lord Pangloth was directly overhead. He was descending through the layer of low, grey cloud. As his vast bulk emerged from the cloud it swirled around him in agitated streamers. Seeing him made Jan feel as insignificant and helpless as when she’d first seen him as a little girl. How can we possibly destroy something that is so big? she asked herself despairingly.
“Mother God, save us. …” That came from Lisa. The others were looking up as well. From neighbouring rooftops came similar exclamations of surprise and fear. Martha huddled herself in a corner of the roof and wailed.
There was something very wrong, thought Jan, as she watched the Lord Pangloth continue to descend. His mile-long body began to fill the sky, blotting out everything else. Why had he changed his traditional way of arrival? Why hadn’t he come from the west as usual? Did he suspect what they planned to do?