Drowned Wednesday

Twenty

THE SUBMERSIBLE"S CONNING tower was the only part of the Balaena visible above the surface. The sub had tied up on the starboard side of the ship, and Port Wednesday lay to port, so Arthur only had a brief glimpse of that harbour, made even less visible by the fading light from the distant ceiling as the Border Sea's strange night came on.

He saw a dark granite mountain that had been terraced into a dozen or more levels, with hundreds of houses and buildings sprawled along each terrace. Beams of light shot up and down from the higher terraces, marking the paths of elevators to other parts of the House.

Arthur couldn't see the harbour mouth, but he could see a telltale forest of masts in the middle of the lower terraces, so the harbour clearly cut deeply into the mountain, and the terraces wound around it.

"Mind your step, sir!" called a Rat.

Arthur gratefully accepted a helpful paw to jump from the ship to the conning tower. The Rat's paw felt just like a human hand, at least through Arthur's glove.

Arthur's boots rang like a bell on the ladder as he quickly climbed down into the hull. The access tube was quite narrow and would have been difficult for a fully grown man, but it posed no problem for Arthur.

The inside of the submarine was not what he expected. Though it was a grey, dark metal above, inside it was paneled with a cherry-coloured timber, and there was a richly patterned carpet on the floor. Arthur peered at the design in the relatively dim light from what appeared to be electric lamps set into the bulkhead. It took him a moment to work out that the flowing lines contained text and that the whole carpet was some sort of epic poem. Or a mission statement. He'd heard of some weird companies doing that in their headquarters. But he didn't have time to puzzle it out.

There was a door forward and a door aft, the forward one open. It was wood-paneled too, but Arthur could see the metal beneath, as it was easily six inches thick.

A crew Rat beckoned Arthur ahead. He was a brindled Rat, a kind of brown-and-black mixture, wearing a blue woolen turtleneck sweater with Rattus Balaena embroidered around the neck in gold. He also had on a leather helmet, like the ones pilots wore in really old, open biplanes, but without the goggles.

"Welcome aboard, sir. If you would just come forr'd to the bridge. There's not much room elsewhere."

Arthur ducked as he stepped through the bulkhead door. The Rat led him along a very narrow corridor that had doors and hatches of varying shapes and sizes along both sides, till they came to another bulkhead door.

This opened to a chamber about twenty feet long and fifteen feet wide. It was also carpeted, but you could see where the carpet had been cut so the furniture could be bolted to the metal deck beneath.

The front of this chamber was dominated by a bank of glass-covered dials and instruments, numerous wheels and levers, and a crystal globe about two feet in diameter atop a central plinth. Two tall-backed leather chairs were positioned on either side of the globe, facing the controls.

The rear two-thirds of the bridge, as this room clearly was, could have been transplanted from an expensive hotel or cafe, though one with limited space. There were six elegant, narrow chairs, bolted to the deck in groups of three, each with a little table between them.

Longtayle and another submariner Rat were down at the controls, intent on going through a checklist. The only other person — or sentient being — there was an exquisitely dressed girl sitting demurely in one of the forward chairs, with her back to Arthur. She was wearing a pearly-white dress with puffed-up sleeves and numerous ruffles and flounces, topped with a very broad-brimmed white hat that had a spray of peacock feathers that almost touched the ceiling. She was drinking very slowly and precisely from a gold-rimmed teacup.

Arthur's heart sank. She was too small to be a Denizen, but Dame Primus had obviously sent someone else, one of the Piper's children more to her liking. Not the ragamuffin Suzy Blue.

Still, she would have messages, which could be important. With a sigh that he didn't even try to suppress, Arthur slid between the chairs to approach the girl.

She turned her head very elegantly as Arthur sighed. Though the huge hat shadowed her face, Arthur recognised the sharp, dark-eyed face underneath. He tripped over his own feet and hit the shin of his good leg on the chair next to her.

"Lord Arthur, I presume?"

Arthur recovered his balance and frowned. She looked like Suzy Blue, but her voice didn't sound quite right. She certainly didn't dress like Suzy Blue.

"Suzy?"

"My name is Suzanna," said the girl.

"Suzy Turquoise Blue," said Arthur, with more conviction. It was Suzy, just all cleaned up and nicely dressed, and putting on a different voice.

"Suzanna Monday's Tierce," corrected the girl. "That is my name and station."

"What's happened to you?" burst out Arthur. "I can't believe you're acting like... like..."

"A properly brought-up young mortal," said Suzy. "That is the standard Dame Primus has set for me and that I try to attain. Please, do sit down, Lord Arthur. Would you like a cup of this rather strong, but quite refreshing, tea?"

Arthur sat down with a thump. He'd really been looking forward to seeing Suzy again, and having her help. This beautifully dressed, ramrod-straight girl might look like Suzy, but she might as well be an imposter. He couldn't see her being much help. She probably wouldn't want to leave the submarine.

"Do you have any messages from Dame Primus?" he asked abruptly.

"Tea?" responded Suzanna.

"Just the messages, if you have any."

"La! You are in a fearful rush!" protested Suzy. She put her teacup down with agonising slowness and took a small silk handbag out of her lap. It was a delicate shade of pink. Arthur almost couldn't bear to look at it. Suzy Turquoise Blue was a brave adventurer, not someone who carried around a tiny pink handbag and said "La!"

Suzy reached into the bag and withdrew a tiny square of paper that grew as it came out, to become a larger envelope of stiff, heavy paper, sealed with a huge red wax seal that showed the stern profile of Dame Primus. Without a laurel wreath, Arthur noticed.

"With the compliments of Dame Primus," said Suzy, passing it over with a very fake-looking smile.

Arthur snatched the letter. As he bent it to break the seal, he saw Doctor Scamandros out of the corner of his eye. The little sorcerer was being assisted to one of the chairs by the same Rat who'd shown Arthur in.

Up the front, Longtayle and the helmsrat sat down in the control chairs. Longtayle raised a pipe to his mouth and spoke into it. His amplified words crackled out of a speaker hidden somewhere above Arthur's head, and could be heard echoing up from the corridor behind as well.

"All hands to diving stations! Sections report when secure!"

Arthur opened the envelope. Like most letters in the House, there was no separate sheet of paper. The writing was all on the inside of the envelope. Arthur unfolded it completely and paused to listen as other Rats" voices crackled and echoed through the loudspeaker system.

"Engine room ready."

"Auxiliaries ready."

"Air circulation ready!"

"Tower secure!"

"Foresnout ready."

Longtayle spoke to the helmsrat. Arthur started to read his letter.

To Arthur, Rightful Heir to the Keys to the Kingdom and Master of the Lower House, the Middle House, the Upper House, the Far Reaches, the Great Maze, the Incomparable Gardens, the Border Sea, and those Infinite Territories beyond the House commonly called the Secondary Realms.

Greetings from your faithful servant, Dame Primus, Amalgam of Parts One and Two (comprising Paragraphs Three to Thirteen) of the Will of Our Supreme Creator, Ultimate Architect of All and Steward of the Lower House and the Far Reaches in trust for the Rightful Heir.

This missive is conveyed to you by the hand of our good and faithful Miss Suzanna Monday's Tierce. We trust it finds you well.

Get on with it, thought Arthur.

We are delighted to hear that you have once again chosen to prosecute the campaign against the vile and treacherous Morrow Days. We are not pleased that you have chosen to make alliance with Drowned Wednesday, as we fear that she clouds her true purpose. Do not trust her!

We are currently besieged by papers, as the Morrow Days seek to render us immobile and ineffective under a deluge of administrative tasks — a clever tactic made easier for them by Monday's many millennia of sloth.

However, we are pleased to report that progress is being made to return the Lower House to efficient operation. Rehabilitation of the Far Reaches has begun, with the Pit already 0.00002% filled in.

We have not been able to locate the Mariner as you requested, but as is no doubt evident, Accelerated Coal has been provided to the Raised Rats.

On the matter of these Rats, you must be wary in your dealings with them. It is possible they are still following some obscure and eccentric plan of the Piper's, which may be in opposition to our own aims. Do not answer their questions! Their curiosity knows no bounds and they always seek knowledge forbidden to them. Unlike the Piper's children, no effective means has been found to wash between their ears, so they have gathered far too many secrets.

Arthur stopped reading and looked surreptitiously at Suzy.

That's what happened to her, he thought. He felt both sorrow and anger rising up inside him. She got washed between the ears and Dame Primus let it happen! Or made it happen. Dame Primus never liked Suzy!

Suzanna noticed his look. She gave him that fake smile and said, "Dame Primus requested that you read her letter most carefully."

It's not her fault, thought Arthur as he bit back a sharp retort. The sadness overcame the anger he felt. He couldn't look at Suzy, so he went back to reading the letter.

One thing may be said for the Raised Rats. They do keep their agreements. One must merely be careful what one agrees with them.

We await further news from you, Lord Arthur, and trust that we shall soon be united, by your hand, with the Third Part of our supreme Mistress's Will.

Until then, we remain your obedient and respectful servant.

May the Will be done.

"That's a fat lot of help," Arthur said to himself. He started to fold the letter, but it folded itself instead, ending up no larger than a postage stamp. Suzy held out her hand for it, so Arthur gave it to her, and she replaced it in her pink handbag.

Up in front, Longtayle was issuing more commands.

"Extend top-eye!"

The helmsrat flicked switches and, in answer, the crystal globe began to shimmer. After a moment or two, it showed a picture of the sea outside the submarine. The bottom half was just blue water, but the top half showed a view of the Rattus Navis IV steaming away.

"Rotate top-eye."

Arthur caught another glimpse of Port Wednesday as the scene shifted through three hundred and sixty degrees, ending up back where it started, with the Rattus Navis still heading directly away.

"Extend snout-eye."

The snout-eye view was all blue water.

"Tail-eye."

The view in the globe changed again. It was still mostly water, but one corner of the great dark mountain of Port Wednesday was visible.

Longtayle swiveled in his chair to face the rear.

"We're ready to go, Lord Arthur. At your convenience." Arthur looked around. There was Suzanna, calmly sipping her tea. No longer the devil-may-care, ready-for-anything friend. There was Doctor Scamandros, looking unwell, his tattoos barely visible, hardly moving. The Mariner hadn't come.

And then there's me, thought Arthur. With a bruise on my head, one leg in a crabshell, and no real idea what I'm going to do even if we do get into Drowned Wednesday's stomach and I can sneak into Feverfew's secret little world.

Longtayle twitched one ear.

Arthur took a deep breath and said, "Let's go!"