Part 39 (1/2)

21.

How we got our POW papers was as follows. We came to the head of the line. I was nervous. There was a rope. A man undid the rope. We pa.s.sed through: the four of us. There was a woman behind a metal desk. She had a big chest with many medals on it. She took the papers Leona gave her. She stamped them. She signed them. She then filled out forms for half an hour. She would not speak to Jacques. She looked at me, but did not react to my appearance in any way at all. She did not once speak to any of us except Leona.

When she was done with us, she sent us to another queue. This queue was inside the building with black and white tiles on the floor and peeling paint on the walls. We were in this queue for two hours thirteen minutes. At the end of this time we were taken into a room where we were given a pink slip of paper* and instructed to place our right hand, underside upwards, on a silver cuff which was set into a wooden block. A machine was then clamped across the wrist. The wrist felt hot. When the machine was removed we had a number. Mine was A034571. My maman was born in Saarlim, but this was my status a 'Guest' number it gave no guarantee of residency or protection of the law but it was, just the same, there for life. and instructed to place our right hand, underside upwards, on a silver cuff which was set into a wooden block. A machine was then clamped across the wrist. The wrist felt hot. When the machine was removed we had a number. Mine was A034571. My maman was born in Saarlim, but this was my status a 'Guest' number it gave no guarantee of residency or protection of the law but it was, just the same, there for life.

*'You have come in chains and the Republic has cast off those chains. You come defeated and the Republic grants you the spoils of the victors. You come without home and the Republic offers you shelter. You are, at all times, a guest of the Republic.' The pink slip.

22.

Using the Guilders the business-gjent had donated to the Simi, we purchased two nights at an hotel the Marco Polo in one of the rougher parts of Kakdorp. The room was large, but gloomy, backing on to a wide balcony on which robed men with blue-black skin and yellow eyes landlopers were living.

They were outside. They washed their clothing there, in a pink plastic tub, and spread it out to dry on the hot concrete.

I was inside, on the floor, trying to find a place where I could begin to unpick the body of the Simulacrum.

I sat next to Jacques, so close to him that his short cuffs brushed against my wrist, his hand against my hand.

'Not there,' he said as I fiddled with the Simi's blue sequin waistcoat. 'You'll rip it.'

'Mollo ... mollo.' I tugged at the creature's white plastic boots.

'Don't hurt it,' Jacques said. 'This is worth a fortune in Chemin Rouge.'

'Worth ... good ... money ... here.'

Wally sighed loudly. I looked up to him through my sweaty white hair. He was sitting on the rumpled bed and rubbing his bare feet. He stared belligerently at the Simi which he had once, so blithely, invited into our life.

'Please,' he said, 'don't tell me you're going to be a tin-rattler.'

'If ... we ... don't ... have ... money ... we're ... as ... good ... as ... dead.'

'For G.o.d's sake,' Wally said, 'no one needs to beg.'

'You'd ... thieve.'

'Yes, I'd thieve, I'd con, I'd be a lever man, if it was necessary.'

'I ... don't ... want ... you ... to ... thieve.'

'I never said I was going to thieve. I said I'd rather thieve than beg.'

'The ... Simi ... paid ... for ... this ... room.'

'You don't need the Mouse to pay the rent.' He was trying to catch my eye and hold it. I ignored that. I held up the Mouse's grey spongy paw.

'Our ... meal ... ticket,' I said.

'Our Sirkus ticket, more like it.'

'Yes ... that ... too ... I ... can ... get ... the ... money.'

He shook his head. 'We're not going to the Sirkus.'

'You ... know ... that's ... why ... we ... came.'

He shook his head. 'You hate the Sirkus, Tristan.'

'We've ... come ... to ... do ... the ... Sirkus ... Tour.'

'Bulls.h.i.+t.' He was all closed down, hooded and bony narrow eyes, s.h.i.+ning cheeks. 'Ten f.u.c.king years,' he said to Jacques. He took some beef jerky from his back pocket and bit down on it. 'Ten f.u.c.king years the Mouse was the devil. You would think it was Bruder Mouse killed his maman. He wouldn't even let me say its f.u.c.king name.'

'The ... Sirkus ... is ... for ... you ... It's ... my ... gift ... This ... Simi ... is ... going ... to ... finance ... your ... Sirkus ... Tour.'

'Bulls.h.i.+t.' Wally tugged at the jerky. 'You think I'd go through all of this for some Sirkus?'

'Not ... for ... only ... one.' one.'

'Not for a hundred. Let's stop playing games, Rikiki. Let's just admit it, we've come to Saarlim so you can make peace with your father.'

'NO.'

'Oh yes,' Wally said, pa.s.sing his hands repeatedly over his bald skull. 'It's time to say it. We've come to see Bill Millefleur. So don't give me all this c.r.a.p about the Sirkus. You hate the Sirkus.'

I did not answer. I was still trying to find some st.i.tching, a seam that would allow me to unpick the Simi's skin. My hand was shaking.

'Tristan ... just telephone him. That's all it'll take.'

'I'm ... going ... to ... make ... money ... and ... I'm ... going ... to ... take ... you ... to ... the ... Sirkus.'

Wally sighed. 'You can't go tin-rattling with a Mouse,' he said at last. 'You know you hate hate that thing.' that thing.'

'Please,' I said.

'You think it's legal, it's not. It's just as illegal as thieving.'*

I ignored him.

'You'll get sick,' he said. 'Is that what you want? You climb inside that stinking thing, you'll catch a virus. You want doctors poking at you in a foreign country?'

He watched me as my mouth began to dribble, my head to nod. I hated how I was, how I looked, how I trembled.