Soul Bound

1          Soul Bound

1.2        Taking Control

1.2.5      An Idiosyncratic Interlude

1.2.5.12   Farcical liars

5pm, Thursday June 8th, 2045

On the way back to the village, Bahrudin had explained the new tactic of exaggeration, much to the dwarves’ glee. Harun had suggested his cousin Omar be anointed as the village’s “Sultan of Soul Bound” on the grounds that he’d once sold Harun a rare enchanted crossbow in return for three fish that Harun had caught in the local stream; more importantly, Omar didn’t know that Nadine was Kafana and so could be safely questioned by a spy about local players without giving anything away.

Nobody had a good solution to the problem of intercepting suspicious visitors, however, and that was when Jasic made the fatal mistake… he suggested they practise sneaking.

It started well enough. Bahrudin set up the laptop outside David’s house and specified an endpoint on the far side of the village by a well which tourists often used to refill their water bottles on the way up to the top of the mountain. With a flourish at the keyboard he directed Nadine’s steward expert system, Terah, to simulate a regular stream of surveillance drones passing near the village, and the screen obligingly switched to showing a map of the village with areas on different sides of each house turning red or green, depending upon whether a drone had a direct line-of-sight to that spot from its current angle.

Nadine studied the map carefully, along with the dwarves. There was no one clear green route going from David’s house to the well. Instead, they’d have to travel as far as they could, inch around a house staying on the far side to the drone as the drone moved past the village, then quickly nip over to the next safe area before another drone arrived. The complete route would take 3 or 4 such stages, depending on how nippy the dwarf was, or how good they were at hugging narrow safe spaces and timing their moves.

Doc tried first, as it was his house, but was too slow crossing the first wide gap.

Harun tried next, and managed to cross the gap, but got caught while circling a house.

Vedad joked that Harun was too fat to fit into the gap so Harun insisted that Vedad try next. He circled the house in fine style, keeping his back flat against the wall, but did it so fast he got the timing wrong on the next dash.

Tarik had been watching the map carefully and claimed the next attempt, whistling a nonchalant tune to himself, in order to keep track of the timing, however he was thrown off when a group of men holding handfuls of grain went by, followed by the goats they were leading to get milked.

“What’re you doing there, Tarik?” one called

Tarik: “Hush, I’m concentrating!” he called back.

But it was too late… his ring vibrated on his finger to indicate that he’d been spotted by the simulated passing drone. He swore, briefly but vehemently, much to the amusement of the farmers. They stayed to watch.

Muhamed approved of Tarik’s method, but asked Bahrudin to follow him as he picked a different longer but easier route than the others had taken. They returned, followed by Merjem, Bahrudin’s wife, who tried to get him to put on a woollen scarf while he made alterations on the laptop.

Bahrudin: “Get on with you, I don’t need that, the temperature is fine.”

Merjem: “Now dear, you know it gets chilly so fast around here, once the sun gets low.”

Bahrudin: “Right! I’ve modified the feedback on the ring. It will vibrate a little when you get within 2 meters of an unsafe area, and the feedback will get stronger the closer you get, until it gives a small shock if you actually stand in the red. Just say ‘stealth mode on’ to your ring to activate this.”

Jasic went next, no longer wearing the goggles, and was hailed by Cosic who started to follow him when Jasic didn’t reply. The rest of the dwarves hastily went over and explained to Cosic that he mustn’t interrupt, because Jasic was being stealthy. Cosic, of course, immediately bet the watching farmers that Jasic wouldn’t make it. Before they could take him up on it, a bunch of small boys chasing an errant chicken set him sneezing as feathers rose from the started bird who ran under a bunch of crates and wouldn’t emerge.

That left old Daris to uphold the DDF’s honour. He set off slowly and carefully, paying close attention to his ring and circling a house twice if he needed to be sure of the timing. Behind him came Jasic and Cosic who had bet on whether one of the Drone Driving Fraternity would manage to reach the well. Behind them came the other dwarves, Nadine and Bahrudin and his wife (who were still arguing over the cold). The uproar was enormous, and the spectating farmers formed such a large circle that Daris got confused and ended up turning the wrong way.

Jasic: “That doesn’t count, Cosic. He was put off by the noise.”

Cosic: “Of course it counts. Why should noise not be allowed?”

Jasic shouted: “Because we’re being stealthy!”

Cosic: “Well tough, you’re out of Fraternity members.”

Jasic: “Not yet we’re not. Miss Sabanagic hasn’t taken her turn yet.”

Cosic: “She’s not wearing a ring. Does she fly drones?”

Bahrudin stepped in quickly: “No, but she doesn’t need one. She’s our mascot.”

Bahrudin: “Now, there need to be rules if this is going to be fair. If anyone wants to watch, they have to follow without getting in the way or making too much noise. Agreed?”

Nadine didn’t get a chance to say she had no intention of doing any such thing. Cosic stuck his hand out and shook with Bahrudin. In the village, a deal like that was sacred. Everyone in the crowd was nodding too. She had no choice.

And that was how she found herself back at David’s house, Daris’ ring on her finger, looking intently at the map and trying to plan a route.

She held her finger up to her mouth and whispered: “Stealth mode on”

Jasic, following behind, turned at the same spot and held his finger up to his mouth and said “Shh” to Cosic behind him. Cosic did the same to Muhamed, as did each dwarf in turn, until it got to Bahrudin who took positive joy in going “Shh” to his wife, thus finishing their argument.

Merjem, not to be outdone, turned and said “Shh” to the other women of the village (who by this time had heard the uproar) and joined the single file line behind Bahrudin. After them, duly shushed, came the men of the village, followed by their goats (still attracted to the grain).

After the goats came the oldest boy who, of course, took the opportunity to shh the next oldest (a girl) who was following him, feet carefully placed in the grain and goat-dropping track marked before them. The pecking order of the children carried on down, with only a few minor squabbles until, at the very back of the line came Daris’ great great grandchild, little Bilal. He was four years old, and had only recently been allowed to roam the village under the watchful eyes of his three elder sisters (who still called him “Lala”, like they had when he was a baby).

Part way along Nadine’s winding route Bilal realised he wasn’t the last after all. The chicken had been lured out from beneath the crates by the dropped grain.

“Shh” went Bilal, solemnly to the chicken.

“Cluck” went the chicken, which wasn’t quite in the spirit of things, but what can you expect from a chicken? It was, at least, a very quiet (if puzzled) cluck.

Heather, of course, had been observing this, alerted by the sensor network covering the village, and had split her sides laughing as she saved the image of Bilal and the chicken for posterity. She decided this was absolutely the right occasion to make a grand entrance, and grabbed the gear she’d prepared earlier for herself.

Nadine, unaware of Heather’s machinations, finally reached the well. She’d had a few close calls, but the ring’s new ‘hot or cold’ system definitely worked. She felt relief and a fair bit of pride at getting there in one piece.

But as she touched the well’s stone rim, she was shocked as a loud fanfare sounded, followed by buzzing from above as Heather descended, suspended from thin wires carried by a group of drones.

The first bit to enter her field of view were the stompy boots, tight laced and reaching up to just below Heather’s knees. Above that were side-laced leather trousers tucked under a full-sleeved black velvet Alexandra bodice with a high collar and down pointed hem.

Around her hips was a contraption that looked like a cross between a climbing harness and a cross-slung utility belt, holding callipers and other tools and in beautifully crafted rigid leather pouches. It was covered in rivets, adjustment buckles and D-rings to which most of the suspension wires were attached.

The rest of the wires were attached to the clockwork articulated wings strapped to Heather’s back. Not bat wings, nor angel wings, though they looked beautiful, as though carved from thin sheets of ice. Her fiery red hair was held in place by a clockwork strewn top hat and, instead of goggles she had an elaborate jewelled monocle attached to the hat by an extending concertina made of polished brass. To complete the look, she’d put gothic makeup on, with dark crimson lips and Egyptian-style eye marks that on closer inspection seemed to be partially mechanical.

Nothing like it had ever been seen in this remote part of Bosnia; Heather was sure she’d make a great impression. She was holding a banner bearing the initials “D.D.F.” beneath a stooping golden eagle. As her foot touched down next to Nadine’s on the stone rim of the well, she held the banner out towards Nadine, intending it as a reward, and the trumpets played a final blast over the hidden Owl speakers.

Nadine got the last laugh, though. Heather wasn’t expecting the villagers’ reaction as she opened her mouth to make a flowery speech. As one, the entire village turned to her, fingers to their lips and said firmly:

Village: “Shh! We’re being stealthy!”

Heather nearly fell down the well.