The Book of Koli (Rampart Trilogy #1) - M. R. Carey Page 0,167

catched a rabbit in one and a setchel snake in another. We brung them back to the drudge and set to work to skin and gut them.

“Did you though?” I says again. “Did you see London? Do you know for certain sure that no one’s there?”

“No. I’ve never seen it. But in Duglas we had access to pretty much every database that had survived. Some of the records had been corrupted or broken up, and some of it was deliberate lies – counter-intelligence from enemy sources intended to spread confusion. The fall of London, though, was very well documented. I saw film footage of the Palace of Westminster after it was flattened by a bomb.”

“What’s a bomb?”

“A thing that flattens buildings, Koli. Even strong, stone buildings like your Rampart Hold.”

She cut the snake meat in strips and shared it out into two little piles. Then I give her the rabbit and she done the same. So I guessed she had made up her mind.

She wrapped the meat in scraps of cloth and handed one of them over to me. I wished I still had my bundle to carry it in, but since I didn’t I put it in my pocket instead. “There’s no way to dry it, sadly,” Ursala said, “but in this cold weather it will keep a few days.”

I thanked her. It was good of her to divide the meat out equal, though I guess our setting the traps had been a kind of a share-work. I give her a hug, and she hugged me back, though she done it awkward like touching people was something she had forgot how to do. It was hard to say goodbye after all we had gone through. Then she pushed me out again to arm’s length, but still keeped hold of me.

“Koli,” she says, “I’m scared for you. London is such a long way. I don’t know anyone else who would dream of making that journey. Stay in Calder a while and think about it some more.”

“If I do that, I won’t never go,” I said.

“Don’t go, then. I give you my word, there’s nothing there for you.”

Which I was about to answer, but I was not quick enough.

“You’re wrong,” Monono’s voice said – out loud, not in the induction field. “Sorry to burst your misery bubble, baa-baa-san, because I’m always so, so polite to old people when they’re full of nonsense, but you’re talking to my end-user and where he’s concerned I am authorised to take neither shit nor prisoners.”

It was kind of funny to watch what happened on Ursala’s face. I forgot she never heard Monono talk until then. “That’s… that’s your entertainment console,” she said.

I took the DreamSleeve out of my belt and holded it up.

“Pleased to meet you,” said Monono. “You can’t see, but I’m doing a curtsey. With my tongue stuck out and my fingers in my ears.”

“That’s some good AI,” Ursala said, looking from the DreamSleeve to me and then back again.

“You do not know the half of it, baa-baa-san.”

Ursala did that laugh of not believing again. “And you’re Monono?”

“For the sake of not getting bogged down in technicalities, let’s say I am. But our first topic is London. You said it’s a ruin.”

“Yes. I said it because it’s true.”

“Is it? Then what’s this?”

Monono’s voice faded of a sudden and another voice come out of the DreamSleeve instead. It wasn’t music, which I was well used to, but just a man talking. His voice was loud but broke up by other sounds, ticks and clicks and scratches, like the inside of his mouth was a field with bugs in it.

“This is Sword of Albion,” the man said, “speaking on behalf of the interim government. All authorised personnel awaiting orders should rally to this point. If challenged by automated defence units, respond with agreed handshake thirty seventeen. This message will cycle through bands one to ten at five-minute intervals. For subsequent messages, rotate by one increment on each iteration. More to follow. This is Sword of—”

The voice cut off.

Ursala looked like she had swallowed a choker seed. “Again,” she said. “Please.”

Monono give us the same voice, saying exactly the same words, only this time she let it run on so the man said the whole of his message twice. I noticed that the clicks and scratches come all at the same places. Ursala jumped on the same exact thing.

“That’s a recording,” she says.

“I think you could be right, baa-baa-san,” Monono come back, all serious. “Or else