Of course, the perfect place to set a trap. He’d spent some nights there with homeless raccoons. A whole army could be concealed just behind the bridge. Why hadn’t he thought of this earlier?
“Hala the Victorious respectfully asks for reinforcements, placed tactically south of her, to secure her retreat. She is going to fall back in stages.”
The runner spoke evenly, but the concern flooding her dark eyes conveyed the fragility of the situation.
“Tell her to hang tough. Help is on the way.”
Mindwalker and Touchwit on the patio, organizing the Citizens Brigade partisans who had been in the water. They’d seen the runner and were stalking briskly over. A liaison. At the highest level. Out of the corner of his eye, he realized that Flax, alone on a corner of the stage, was gazing at him with awe. “Don’t go yet,” he told the runners.
Mindwalker at his full height and military authority: “What seems to be the problem here, Bandit?”
“Our sister army ran into a trap. They need support to attempt a fall back.”
“What’s our exit plan?” Touchwit asked, raising the concern a whole new level.
“As before,” Mindwalker said. “The railway bridge. Clutch is down there now. We can hold them at the west end of the bridge. It only has width for three or four of them to fight at a time.”
“For how long? The enemy has all the food and we have none,” Touchwit said.
“Meatbreath is going to force us right back into our chimney,” Slypaws said.
“Listen.” The clamour of combat. Full-throated shrieking and now and then a surprised howl of defeat. The northerly breeze carried scents of blood.
At the smell of blood, Mindwalker rose on his hind legs. “He’s done it again. The fox has many tricks, the hedgehog one: one good one. I want all non-combatants down at the south end of the park beside the railway bridge. Non-combatants includes Peoples Corps Volunteers who want to take a chance with us. Can you manage them?” This last addressed to Slypaws. If anyone could inspire a collection of shifters and flip-flops, she could.
“Bandit. Do you think you could persuade your mates in the Honour Guard to join us and save their City? If you can, take them west to the street. We need to make sure Meatbreath doesn’t outflank us.”
“Now, you Runners! Yes, that’s right. Both of you, in case one of you gets intercepted. Do you see what I’ve done? Good! Now, go and report it all to Lady Hala and tell her a Brigade is on their way. They’re heavy from the water in their coats but they can fight.”
The runners left, taking separate routes.
Now Mindwalker faced his field commander grimly. “We have to accept the possibility of defeat. Go and say your goodbye.” He turned abruptly and strode back to the Primate latrine.
Bandit checked his sister’s eyes. Yes, they held the same silent, bitter message. She gave him a lick and went to join her partner.
He didn’t move. Who should he say goodbye to? Who did he want to say goodbye to? Sensibella, of course. She was the reason why he’d become a soldier. He fought totally for her. He felt proud he’d stood up man to man to his father, and defended her honour.
But then there was Flaxentips lingering at the side of the stage. He owed her a goodbye.
For some reason, he thought of little Friskywits. He’d gotten use to her company. She was always smart and happy. Well, she wasn’t here to say goodbye to, so he started off to see Sensibel.
***
The seagull was poised on one leg on top of the latrine.
“Are you going to stand there while we get pushed into the river again?”
The bird pulled its head out from under its wing and blinked. “Of course, I am. I find the panorama of bodies sorting themselves out in the material world luridly fascinating.”
Mindwalker stood stock still and waited for his rage to subside. It surged up and bubbled like blood behind his eyes. It made him want to throttle the bird on the spot. Instead he said: “You don’t care one way or the other who wins, do you?”
“You must allow that one who frequently stays aloft for long periods of time over a vast ocean conceives a perspective not indistinct from that of eternity.”
“You’re waiting for a feast, you rascal. You’re just waiting so you can pick at carrion flesh. Carry away a dead raccoon’s eyeballs, then come back to yank out his liver.”
“I’ve already eaten a pork rib, French fries, and corn, thank you. If quadrupeds want to ease the pressures on the planet by depopulating themselves, let them do so. Once they deposit all their body-masks on the grass, doubtless carnivores of every sort will come to feed. That this park is already a historic feasting place has been noted by all and sundry.”
“If you don’t care, why are you here?” Touchwit asked.
“I am witnessing the making of an ideal Commonwealth. I don’t suppose you thought to make a place in it for Seagulls.”
“We’ll do that later!” Touchwit said. “Right now I’m going to the heart of the problem.”
“Which is what, exactly?” the gull asked.
“Which is that I’m never going to be a successful Maker until I get Meatbreath out of my system!”
***
Bandit couldn’t linger. He needed to position the Honour Guard at the city edge of the park where they’d ambush any flanking column sent by Meatbreath. He wanted to stay. Being with Sensibella gave him courage. He would give his life for her.
“Goodbye, Bella.”
She gave him a sloppy lick on his muzzle. To die for.
56
Touchwit lay hidden under the wheels of a railway boxcar at the top of the park with a pack of Brigaders wearing their Citizen’s hats. For the first time in her life she was going to be in a situation where she couldn’t rely on her mind. Her intellect would be completely useless. When the High Guard came thundering down on her, she wouldn’t even have an opportunity to analyse the situation. All she could do was get bloody. Revolutions are messy. You can’t eat a crayfish without first ripping off its head.
