recited.
‘But I ’aven’t been to Babylon,’ she said, between giggles. ‘Not yet I aven’t, anyway.’
‘The negritude is in your blood. Just as it’s in your mother’s blood. And her mother’s, too.’
She breathed deep, as if inhaling the scent of my newly washed hair.
‘If you stay off-world long enough, will you turn black, too, Maddy?’
‘Perhaps,’ I said.
‘But the Minotaurs stay white.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘Their blood is different.’ I gazed across the lake to the farther bank where a group of children unaccountably splashed about in the shallows. ‘Or so I’ve heard.’
‘You see—that’s the sort of thing I need to learn.’ She tilted her head to one side and looked up at me through her absurdly long eyelashes. ‘I’m sorry I lost my temper with you. But the tests are important. And everything else that’ll come after. We’re going to ’ave to ’ave special lessons. Not just dancing, ritual, and invocations and all that, but ’istory, too.’ She sucked at her teeth. ‘I’m shit at ’istory.’
‘I’ll teach you,’ I said. I leant over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’ll teach you about Ishtar, and her dark side, Lilith. I’ll teach you about the Babylonian moon. I’ll teach you everything.’
‘Everything?’ she said. She looked down at her hand, so smooth, so satiny, like a hand Phidias might have carved out of obsidian. ‘I understand the darkness, Maddy. You can teach me lots of fings. But forget about Lilith. What I don’t know about Lilith ain’t worth knowing.’ Then she gave a great sigh, and I felt her full weight against my body, as if she had somehow been mysteriously filleted and could no longer support herself. Her brow creased. What she had asserted about Lilith was undoubtedly true; suddenly she seemed like someone who knew everything and had grown infinitely tired of knowing. She snuggled closer. ‘Sometimes I like to fink I’m a little girl again. I like to imagine I don’t know anyfink about the Modern Babylon and never will.’ Freeing her hand, she ran her thumb along her lips, biting fleetingly at its chipped, strawberry-painted nail. ‘Yeh, I like to fink I’m a little girl. A child, Maddy. I like to fink I’m just child.’
I held her tight. Far away, people were gathering about a glass- domed refreshment kiosk. A flock of geese circled overhead. Then a breeze gusted, and the tree we were sitting under rustled its leaves, as if it were conferring life’s greatest, most wonderful secret: that all would be well, now, and forevermore.
‘That’s nice,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, yes, that’s nice.’ The holiday- makers ambled past, chatting, laughing, and singing. Like me, they seemed oblivious to everything but the bliss of a perfect day.
Chapter Five
‘Please, Madeleine, try to concentrate.’
I screamed.
‘Should we halt the procedure?’ asked the psycho-mechanic, a young man perhaps only a few years older than myself. During morning recess we had all stared at him as he had unloaded the black wagon parked ominously outside the school gates.
‘She shouldn’t try to fight it,’ said the Duenna. ‘Increase the power.’
I was strapped into a high-backed chair. The chair stood on a small wooden dais. Girl, chair, and dais were in turn enclosed by a polished steel dome that served as an isolation ward for young women suspected of suffering from terminally overheated imaginations. A grille at eye level provided the Duenna and mechanic with the means to interrogate me, or to check on my health.
The Duenna moved sideways, allowing me to see past her to where, aligned against the far wall, a high-pressure steam engine went about its angry business. The mechanic stood by it. He depressed a lever. And I heard a sharp click as the lever engaged another ratchet. The engine’s piston rods blurred and the flywheel began to rotate so fast that its spokes seemed to spin in countermotion.
‘Please,’
‘But I ’aven’t been to Babylon,’ she said, between giggles. ‘Not yet I aven’t, anyway.’
‘The negritude is in your blood. Just as it’s in your mother’s blood. And her mother’s, too.’
She breathed deep, as if inhaling the scent of my newly washed hair.
‘If you stay off-world long enough, will you turn black, too, Maddy?’
‘Perhaps,’ I said.
‘But the Minotaurs stay white.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘Their blood is different.’ I gazed across the lake to the farther bank where a group of children unaccountably splashed about in the shallows. ‘Or so I’ve heard.’
‘You see—that’s the sort of thing I need to learn.’ She tilted her head to one side and looked up at me through her absurdly long eyelashes. ‘I’m sorry I lost my temper with you. But the tests are important. And everything else that’ll come after. We’re going to ’ave to ’ave special lessons. Not just dancing, ritual, and invocations and all that, but ’istory, too.’ She sucked at her teeth. ‘I’m shit at ’istory.’
‘I’ll teach you,’ I said. I leant over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’ll teach you about Ishtar, and her dark side, Lilith. I’ll teach you about the Babylonian moon. I’ll teach you everything.’
‘Everything?’ she said. She looked down at her hand, so smooth, so satiny, like a hand Phidias might have carved out of obsidian. ‘I understand the darkness, Maddy. You can teach me lots of fings. But forget about Lilith. What I don’t know about Lilith ain’t worth knowing.’ Then she gave a great sigh, and I felt her full weight against my body, as if she had somehow been mysteriously filleted and could no longer support herself. Her brow creased. What she had asserted about Lilith was undoubtedly true; suddenly she seemed like someone who knew everything and had grown infinitely tired of knowing. She snuggled closer. ‘Sometimes I like to fink I’m a little girl again. I like to imagine I don’t know anyfink about the Modern Babylon and never will.’ Freeing her hand, she ran her thumb along her lips, biting fleetingly at its chipped, strawberry-painted nail. ‘Yeh, I like to fink I’m a little girl. A child, Maddy. I like to fink I’m just child.’
I held her tight. Far away, people were gathering about a glass- domed refreshment kiosk. A flock of geese circled overhead. Then a breeze gusted, and the tree we were sitting under rustled its leaves, as if it were conferring life’s greatest, most wonderful secret: that all would be well, now, and forevermore.
‘That’s nice,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, yes, that’s nice.’ The holiday- makers ambled past, chatting, laughing, and singing. Like me, they seemed oblivious to everything but the bliss of a perfect day.
Chapter Five
‘Please, Madeleine, try to concentrate.’
I screamed.
‘Should we halt the procedure?’ asked the psycho-mechanic, a young man perhaps only a few years older than myself. During morning recess we had all stared at him as he had unloaded the black wagon parked ominously outside the school gates.
‘She shouldn’t try to fight it,’ said the Duenna. ‘Increase the power.’
I was strapped into a high-backed chair. The chair stood on a small wooden dais. Girl, chair, and dais were in turn enclosed by a polished steel dome that served as an isolation ward for young women suspected of suffering from terminally overheated imaginations. A grille at eye level provided the Duenna and mechanic with the means to interrogate me, or to check on my health.
The Duenna moved sideways, allowing me to see past her to where, aligned against the far wall, a high-pressure steam engine went about its angry business. The mechanic stood by it. He depressed a lever. And I heard a sharp click as the lever engaged another ratchet. The engine’s piston rods blurred and the flywheel began to rotate so fast that its spokes seemed to spin in countermotion.
‘Please,’
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