Grim Tuesday

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.

He would have liked to look at the various parts, but the gang's first stop only came when Number Six tripped out of her own clogs and fell down, knocking over Number Five, who knocked over Number Four. But they only stopped long enough for the three Denizens to get up and get their clogs back on.

An hour later, Arthur deliberately kicked off a clog himself in order to get a rest, but being right at the back no one noticed except Japeth, and the rest of the gang didn't stop. So Arthur and Japeth had to run to catch up.

That took most of Arthur's remaining energy. He knew he didn't need food and water in the House, but he still felt hungry, thirsty, and depressed. He tried to shake off the depression, telling himself it was only because he was tired. But that was the problem. He wasn't just tired. He was exhausted. He got wearier and wearier, and they just kept on walking.

Thoughts of giving in and signing over the Key and the Mastery of the Lower House started to well up as Arthur walked and walked and walked. He simply couldn't think of anything else to do except give up.

He managed to beat those defeatist thoughts back for a while when they left the smog behind and he felt a bit better. He even ran up to look at the time candle, ignoring the glares of Number One for getting out of line. But the feeling better only lasted for a few minutes. Arthur quickly fell back to his rear position, disturbed to see that the candle had burned down to only the second band out of twelve. According to his watch, which was going backwards but otherwise seemed to be tracking time okay, they had been walking for six hours. With ten bands of the candle to go, that was another thirty hours walking.

Even without the smog it was still pitch dark. The only light came from the gang's Strom lanterns and the time candle. To make things worse, they soon descended into wet, hanging clouds that were cleaner than the smog but cold and clammy.

Thirty hours of walking to go. I can't do it. But I have to? I have to?

Arthur was already too tired to think about how he could get out of his current predicament, but the thought of having to keep going for another thirty hours made him try harder. He tried to look around more, just in case some opportunity came up.

Perhaps I could hide, and sneak back up later, he thought. Or somehow ambush an Overseer and take his clothes and disguise myself. Only I haven't seen any Overseers down here so far? or there might be a telephone booth and some coins the Grim didn't notice, and I could call up the Will and be rescued?

The sound of a clog falling off broke into Arthur's daydream. He realized he'd fallen asleep walking and that Japeth wasn't in front of him, but next to him, steering him by his elbow.

It was his own clog that had fallen off. He bent down to put it back on, moving so slowly he felt like he was still in his dream.

"How long? asleep?" mumbled Arthur. Everything looked the same. Denizens disappeared into clouds in front of him, led by an indistinct figure carrying a flickering light. There was the railway track to the right. There was another pile of broken wheels and bits and pieces.

"I don't know," said Japeth. "You are brave to be able to sleep here while walking. I doubt if I will sleep again for weeks."

"I'm just worn out," mumbled Arthur. "Not a Denizen."

"Not a Denizen?" asked Japeth. "But even the Piper's children have become Denizens, of a kind?"

"M' not even that. Mortal. Been in House only once before?"

"But you have power! I felt it when we shook hands. You said you were on a mission -"

Arthur shook his head to wake himself up. He was so tired he couldn't even get his mouth and tongue to form words properly. He slapped himself on the face and felt a little spark zap across from his palms. It woke him up? a bit.

"It's hard to explain," he told Japeth. "Grim Tuesday is my enemy, and I really do want to help everyone escape from this Pit. But I have to get out myself first."

"There can be no escape from the indenture," said Japeth gloomily, fingering the string around his neck. "Indentured workers are always returned to the Far Reaches, even if you could get into another part of the House. There is no escape, getaway, deliverance, or emergence. We're down here for eternity. Forever, plus the statutory day."

"There must be some way," said Arthur. He felt a little refreshed, either from slapping himself or from his walking sleep. But only a little. A deep weariness lurked in every bone and muscle, waiting to rise up and overwhelm him. "Can't the indenture be cut off or something?"

"Quiet back there!" ordered Number One. He seemed to think he was in charge because he held the candle.

"Stick your nose down your own apron!" retorted Japeth. "We'll talk as much or as little as we like."

Number One grumbled something back, but said no more. However, he did increase the pace, with the other Denizens obediently following. It was just fast enough for Arthur to have to run every twenty paces or so, rather than every half hour. Soon, he felt a familiar tightness in his right lung. His throat was also a bit sore and his nose puffy. The spell the Lieutenant Keeper had taught him must be wearing off.

"Even if you could cut off my indenture tag, it wouldn't help," said Japeth as he easily ran next to Arthur. "Grim Tuesday has a master indenture roll, containing every Denizen's contract and listing what we owe and earn. An individual tag will simply re-form if it is damaged or destroyed. The only way out would be if one of the other Days bought out our contracts. And that will never happen. Our Days 'transferred' us to the Grim in the first place, though it would be more accurate or to the point to say we were sold, traded, or bartered."

"There has to be a way," muttered Arthur. At least he wasn't indentured. Not that it mattered when he was heading in precisely the wrong direction for any chance of escape. He was also totally exhausted, with one lung seizing up, the other sore from taking the load, and his nose streaming. It was all he could do to think about putting one foot in front of the other, let alone anything farther ahead.

"By the way," Japeth asked, "where did you get your streaming nose? That would be worth a fortune back in the Middle House."

"I told you I'm a mortal," sniffed Arthur. "I've got a cold."

"Oh," said Japeth. "A cold! Can you transfer it? Then maybe you could bribe an Overseer -"

Arthur shook his head. He had no idea how to transfer his cold, besides maybe sneezing on Japeth, which wasn't something he was about to do. He couldn't understand why the Denizens were so keen to have mortal ailments. Except, of course, that for them they were purely cosmetic, since they didn't feel sick.

Half an hour later the constant wetness of the cloud began to turn into actual rain, and the gang paused briefly to put on their capes. The rain soon became a steady drizzle, punctuated by the occasional heavy, stinging drop. One fell on Arthur's hand, burning his skin as it slid off with a sizzling noise. But as with the Scoucher's cut, the burn healed within a few minutes, leaving no sign.

Nothing rain, thought Arthur dully. That's all I need.

The stinging drops kept coming down every few minutes, but most fell on Arthur's hood or cape, leaving pockmarks in the stabilized mud. Arthur was so tired he hardly noticed them. He managed to keep going, but only because Japeth was almost carrying him.

Even with Japeth's help, they were falling farther and farther behind, the candle flame borne by Number One often out of sight, and Number Eleven a dim figure occasionally glimpsed through the rain.

"I can't go any farther," Arthur finally gasped when they lost sight of Number Eleven altogether. "You go. I'll catch up when I've had a rest. I can hide from the Overseers behind all this junk."

Japeth lowered the boy down next to yet another pile of broken train parts. Arthur leaned back against a pair of bogey wheels and his head sank down on his knees. He halfheartedly wiped his nose on his sleeve and thought about casting the breathing spell again. But he was so tired? After a while, he realized that Japeth was still standing in front of him.

"Go!" said Arthur weakly. "I'll work out some way to catch up. You don't want to get steamed."

"Perhaps a steaming is less to be feared than descending farther into the Pit," said Japeth slowly. "I have seen only despair and fatalism among the Denizens here. But you offer some hope. You are not indentured. You have some latent power. I shall take my chances with you. Rest, and I will watch. Stand guard. Shelter. Shield you. Shepherd. Mind. Watch. Tend. Keep vigil. Watch and ward. Patrol. Do the rounds?"

Japeth kept talking, but Arthur felt himself fall far away, the Denizen's voice receding into some distant space. In less than a second, Arthur was asleep.

He woke up to a peculiar whirring sound and the hum of the railway lines. Japeth was shaking him by the shoulder.

"Arthur! Wake up! Something is coming down the line!"

Arthur sat up and immediately started coughing. A racking cough that started deep in his chest and rolled up through his throat. A cough that kept going and going, as if his body was desperate to get something toxic out of his system.

Still coughing, Arthur plunged his fingers into his nose and his thumb into his mouth. Then, in between racking coughs, he managed to sputter out the words of the Lieutenant Keeper's spell. But the coughing continued, his nose kept running, and Arthur was overcome by fear. The spell hadn't worked and he was going to choke to death here in the ghastly Pit?

Suddenly the coughing stopped and Arthur's nose dried up at the same moment. He took a deep breath, luxuriating as it spread through both lungs. He felt fine, though very stiff in the legs. According to his backwards watch, he'd been asleep for three hours.

"We must hide! Conceal ourselves! Take cover!" Japeth warned.

Arthur looked up the track and a large Nothing-laced raindrop hit his cheek, almost splashing his eye. He swore and wiped it off, ignoring the painful stinging sensation, and looked again, careful to keep his hood well forward.

He saw two fuzzy lights coming down the railway line, lights no stronger than his strom lantern, and only about a foot apart. They were too close together and didn't look bright enough to be the lights of a train. The whirring sound was also too quiet, and the rails were only humming very softly, nothing like they would for a full-sized locomotive and its load.

Nevertheless, Arthur hurried around the pile of scrap metal and hunkered down with Japeth behind an upturned bench seat thrown from a carriage, its horsehair stuffing sprayed out like a strange plant. They put their lanterns down the central hole of a huge driving wheel, covered it with a steel damping plate, and sat completely still in the darkness.

Arthur held his breath, fear rising as he stared at the lights and the dark shape behind them.