8
BENE
THE UNIVERSITY OF GERICH ASSET RECOVERY TEAM
EASTERN RENDEROS
There was still a nip in the air to chill the hands and cheeks, but Bene didn’t mind. It looked like the beginning of a beautiful day. The weather was starting to come good, and after a particularly bitter winter, it felt as if spring had finally arrived.
He looked over to where Khela sat in the wagon directly ahead of his. She hadn’t come good yet, unfortunately. Although they’d stopped speaking to each other only recently, it felt as if many silent months had passsed between them. What if she never said another word to him? For all his tough talk about how much he didn’t want or need her, he actually found himself missing her company, their playful banter and inside jokes. To say nothing of the odd nights when they were friends with benefits. He especially tried not to think about those.
He’d done his best to keep busy. He was a regular on patrols with the soldiers now, and he reckoned he had gone up in their estimation because of it. His research on wights was going well, too. He probably had at least half his thesis done. Just a rough draft, of course, but still. So, all that was good. Yeah, come to think of it, he’d actually been a lot more productive without Khela there to... distract him? Wow. Was that what she was to him? A roadblock?
“Stop thinking about her,” he whispered to himself. “You’re making it worse.” It was a tall order, though, when you were bouncing along in the back of a cart trying to kill time. He looked around, wondering what else could he do. It would’ve been nice to add to his research notes or scribble in his diary, but it was too bumpy. That and it made him nauseous. Reading was out, too, for the same reasons. He didn’t really feel like striking up a conversation with any of his cart mates either, so that was also out. Riding wasn’t an option since he was currently quite saddle sore from recent days. So, yeah, nothing to do but kick back and try not to think about Khela.
Damien Barls sat on his haunches not too far away, muttering to himself. An odd little fellow, that Barls. Stunted and skinny, eternally unkempt and smelling as if he’d shat himself. Which he probably had, because he seemed stupid enough not to know you were supposed to pull your pants down ahead of dropping a load. Normally he felt sorry for people who were obviously touched in the head, but Bene couldn’t bring himself to think that way about Barls because on top of everything else, the man also had the vilest personality of anyone he had ever met. A few moments in his company made you wonder how he’d even made it past childhood. For his looks alone, his mother would have been justified in drowning him in a bucket.
“I fucken hate the army,” Barls said to no one in particular. Add to the list of his peculiarities that he was always talking to himself. “The worst part, by far, is everyone tellin’ me what to do. No end o’ that from the moment I fucken signed on! It’s all ‘do this, Barls,’ an’ when I fucken finish it up, it’s ‘do that, Barls.’ No fucken letup all the livelong day.”
Bene glanced around. No one else seemed to be paying him the slightest bit of attention.
“Fucken hate havin’ to be awake the whole day.” Barls spat noisily over the side of the wagon. “If I’d a-known it was goin’ to be like that, I woulda fucken never ‘ave joined up. Pointless fucken busywork! Fucken cleanin’ an’ polishin’ shit what’s already fucken clean an’ polished to begin wiv. Shit!”
With nothing better to do, Bene decided to count the number of times Barls used the word ‘fuck.’
“The worst fucken part,” said Barls, “by far, is I hardly git any fucken time to meself. The only spare moments I git are at night when I’m too fucken tired to ack-shully enjoy ‘em. Ooh, ‘an I fucken hate bein’ away from the city, too. Worst part o’ the army by far. Sleepin’ under the fucken stars! Fuck orff! Fucken hate the outdoors.”
“Seven,” said Bene. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or appalled.
But Barls was merely warming up. “An’ then,” he said, “an’ then, o’ course, there’s the fucken wagons. Lumbering pieces o’ fucken shit! Nuthin’ moves slower, nuthin’ breaks down oftener! An’ who hasta fucken fix ‘em when that happens? Eh? Eh? Yeah, fucken me, that’s who! I shouldn’ hafta fucken do that shit day-in, day-out, should I? Eh? Aw, fuck, any time now this fucken thing’ll stop and I’ll hafta fucken git out and fucken fix it!” He kicked the side of the offending machine with the heel of his boot. “Fucken hate ya, bitch-fuck wagon. Yer the worst part o’ the army, by fucken far.”
“Twelve,” said Bene. “A new record.” A lot of people found the word offensive, but he’d always kinda liked it. Something about the way Barls said it, though, was forcing him to reconsider his opinion. In fact, if he had to listen to Barls for too long, he would probably even start hating it.
He half-expected the little man to go on with his anti-army rant, but instead he glanced sideways at Orly. She was sitting up the back of the cart, chatting with the other chuckwagon girls. Nearly everything she said caused peals of female laughter.
“Yer the best fucken thing about the army!” Barls called out to her, pointing. “By far! Yor me gurl, Orls. Yor me guuurl!”
Orly looked at Barls. He smiled at her in a knowing way. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her friends.
“Bitch,” Barls muttered. “Next time I git ‘er alone, I’m gunna fucken point out how disrespec-ful she is. Might even tell ‘er ta fuck right off.”
Bene exhaled. He wondered, and not for the first time, how someone so cracked had managed to land a job at the University of Gerich. Who had said yes to him? How had he convinced them that he could be anything but a liability?
“Bitch might be playin’ hard to git today, but come payday she’ll doff ‘er clothes and git ‘tween me armpits.” Barls sniggered. “Yeh! Then we’ll be two privates playin’ wiv each other’s privates! Haaah! Seriously though, till then, screw ‘er.” He turned and tried to spit over the side of the wagon again, only this time his phlegm barely made it past his lips. “Fuck you, Orly.” He wiped off his chin with his sleeve. “I’s gonna fucken propose to ya an’ all, but now I’m not.”
When Barls suddenly turned to face him, Bene didn’t look away. He stared right back into those dull, vacant eyes, wondering what was going on in the little brain behind them. At the same time, though, he didn’t want to actually know. In any case, it took him far too long to figure out that Barls’s attention wasn’t fixed on him, but on the wagon ahead. On Khela.
“Best fucken thing about the army by far,” said Barls to whoever was paying him any mind, which was in actuality probably still only Bene. “Reckon she’s me soul’s mate an’ me one true love. Sight of that blonde bitch makes me ‘eart soar. And to be sure, me fucken cock along wiv it!”
Bene chuckled. Khela would be charmed, he was sure.
“Yeh. Easily the most lush-us creature I ‘ave ever laid me eyes on,” said Barls with a moan. “No matter how grimy everyone else gits on the road, bitch always smells like flowers.”
It was actually a fair observation, thought Bene. Despite the rigours of travel and its inherent lack of bathing opportunities, Khela somehow always managed to smell wonderful.
“Long blonde hair around a fucken perfect face. Fucken gorgeous! Tiny little body, too, but with tits out to there. Eh? Holy shit, but she got massive fucken cans, that gurl! Tight, round arse as well, of a sort what makes a grown man... what? Crack a fat, definitely. Fucken brilliant arse. All firm an’ round when she’s standin’ still, but then it gits all wobbly an’ shit when she walks. Man, that’s hot as fuck!”
To Bene’s horror and disbelief, Barls thrust a hand into his trousers, all the while looking around to make sure no one was watching him. Funnily enough, no one was. It was as if the man were invisible. All thoughts of counting curses left Bene’s head. Public masturbation was just gross.
“Auugh,” said Barls after a few moments.
Bene averted his eyes, too disgusted for words.
“One day ya’ll be mine, Khela,” said Barls. “I know in me ‘eart of ‘earts we’ll end up togevver.” Then he shut his eyes and droned, “She will be mine, she will be mine, she will be mine, she will be mine, she will be mine.”
Bene stuck out his tongue. The little man was even nuttier than he could have imagined. Totally insane. He probably wasn’t a threat to Khela–after all, she had a hundred soldiers looking out for her–but that didn’t mean Bene wasn’t going to keep an eye on him anyway. No, this defective creature’s aberrant behaviour would be overlooked until it became dangerous, at which point he might have to be removed.
Barls jumped up. “I know,” he said, peering over the side of the wagon. “I’ll give ‘er a gift o’ flowers. It’s a well-knowed fact bitches fucken love that shit. Yeh, when I work up the nerve to introduce meself, I’m gunna give ‘er a big bunch o’ fucken flowers. Like, twenny of ‘em. Then after a bit o’ sweet-talk, the bitch’ll give up ‘er own little bud to me. Haaah! Fucken genius!”
Barls scanned the roadside, presumably on the lookout for flowers. Eventually his eyes fell on a plant with violet petals on it. He was about to scramble over the side of the wagon to nab the thing when a soldier came riding alongside, cutting off his exit. That same man also lifted his arse out of his saddle and farted loudly.
“Phwoar!” said Hanne, the farter. “Mark that one!”
“Yeah,” said Barls, dismayed as Khela’s intended gift slowly disappeared from view. “Good one.”
“Good one?” asked Hanne. “Merely good? For a moment there, I thought I was gonna hafta take a trip to the seamstress.”
Barls stared at him. “Huh?”
“You know,” said Hanne, grinning proudly, “on account o’ tha force o’ me fart nearly takin’ the arse outta’ me breeches an’ all? Haaah!”
Bene snorted. Hanne was a match for Barls in manners, but that was where their similarities ended. For reasons he couldn’t fathom, the man was drawn to Barls. A lot of Tonneson’s men seemed to be. It was almost as if they’d made him a mascot of sorts.
“Oh,” said Barls, still distracted by the loss of his flower. Bene was quite sure it had been a weed.
“I swear, some of the cart ‘orses flinched it was so loud!”
“Yeah.”
“Hello?” said Hanne, reaching over to wave a hand in front of Barls’s face. “Hello? Is anyone at home? Hello?”
Barls shot him a look of annoyance. “What?”
“What’s wrong, little buddy? Something up?”
“No.” Barls let his gaze wander back to Khela. “Nuthin’.”
Hanne tossed his head in the direction Barls was looking. “Ah,” he said, nodding. “I getcha. So, you talked to ‘er yet or what?”
“Keep yer voice down, will ya?” said Barls, checking to see if Orly hadn’t overheard. Bene looked too, but the girl was preoccupied with entertaining her circle of friends.
“Well?” asked Hanne. “You talked to ‘er yet or what?”
Barls shook his head. “Nah.”
“Why not?”
“Dunno. Time’s not right yet, I guess?”
Hanne clicked his tongue. “Yep. Sure, fair enough. Timing’s important.”
“How kin a gurl like that even exist?”
“Whaddaya mean?”
“In all me life,” said Barls, shaking his head again, “I never seen an arse like hers. Same goes for them tits, really, but it’s ‘er arse what gets me ever-y fucken time.”
Hanne nodded slowly. “Yep. She’s got quite the arse, I do agree with you.”
“With some guys,” said Barls, “it’s all about the tits. It’s butts what really gets me goin’ though. I’m a butt boy, I guess you could say. I heard a story once about these two great civili... civili-zay... civili-zay shums? No, wait. Umpires! These two umpires what went to war over this one bitch this one time. You wiv me? It was in the old days, you know, like maybe twenny years ago.
“So this one umpire, they stole this bitch, right? Reckon she was a princess or somethin’ I think. An’ so to git ‘er back again, the other umpire launched, like, twenny fucken boats an’ shit. Maybe more! Each one of ‘em had, like, twenny warriors inside an’ shit. They was like, war boats. Yeah, then they had some big fucken battles an’ shit. She must ‘ave been somethin’ to look at, eh?
“But anyway, there was blood an’ bodies an’ shit an’ whatnot piled up to the clouds, just about. All over this one fucken bitch! She was a princess or somethin’. Or a queen, maybe. I dunno. I didn’t never believe a word of it, though, not really. Then one day I looked over an’ saw the fucken turd cutter on Khela, an’ I thought to m’self, yeah. Yeah! Yeah, I thought, now I believe it. Fuuuck.”
“No two ways about it,” said Hanne. “She is fuckable.”
Barls grunted. “Yeh. Top tits. Like pillows.” He seemed about ready to thrust his hand down his pants again, but after a couple of hasty glances at Hanne he apparently thought better of it. “Yeh.”
Hanne leaned over in a conspiratorial way. “I’ve heard tell she’s really, really dirty, too.”
“Yeh?”
“Yeah,” said Hanne, licking his lips. “But not just dirty dirty. I mean full-on fuckin’ filthy dirty.”
Barls started to go red. “Yeh?”
“Oh, yeah. You know she fucked the boss, right?”
“Magister Roaoo?”
Hanne laughed. “No, no. Not the big boss. My boss. Colonel Tonneson.”
At the mention of Tonneson, Bene’s mood began to sour. He hadn’t thought about him and Khela much over the past day or so. But now the images of them together were all coming back again…
“Yeah, nah,” said Barls, shaking his head. “Heard the rumours. Don’t think it really happened, but.”
“Ha, ha! More ‘n just rumours, mate,” said Hanne with a wink. “I know a guy says he saw Big T assaultin’ the rear guard.”
“Who’s Big T?”
“Y’know… Tonneson? The colonel? Boss of the Scouts?”
Barls nodded. “Oh yeah. Knew who ya meant, o’ course.”
“Yeah.”
“But what does rear guard mean?”
“Rear guard? Y’know?” said Hanne, leering. “Her rear. Her starfish. Haw, he was pokin’ that starfish like there was no tomorrow. Apparently.”
“Starfish?” asked Barls, baffled.
“Yeah, yeah, you know?” said Hanne, pointing at his own butt. “Starfish. Her chocolate starfish.”
“Huh? No?”
“Yeah ya do! You know. Her date?”
“Her date?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m sayin’ she likes it in the ol’ date... you know?”
“Whut?” asked Barls, making a face. “Speak plain. Yer just confusin’ me!”
“Up the dumper, pal,” said Hanne, blowing out his cheeks in frustration. “In the arse!”
Barls looked horrified. “Whuut?”
Hanne laughed. “Look, I dunno if I can make it any clearer than I have, chum.”
“I know!” shouted Barls, his cheeks going bright with anger. “I know. I got it, all right? I’m not stupid, y’know!” Then, as the realisation of what Hanne was saying actually did dawn on him, he went even redder. He clenched his fists. “Fucken fuuuuuck!” he screamed.
The sudden outburst had everyone in the wagon staring openly at Barls. Bene wondered if he shouldn’t say something, maybe suggest that he go and find some place to cool off. And he might even tell Hanne to take a hike, what with his complete bullshit story about Khela. Did he have nothing better to do with his time?
“All right,” said Hanne, raising a finger at the little man. “That’s enough, eh? Calm down, will ya?”
“Yeah,” said Barls, sulking.
“Just take it easy.”
“Yeah.”
Hanne waited until everyone went back to what they were doing. He spat. “She’s not my type, mind you.”
Barls looked up. “Huh?”
“Khela. Your girl? Not my type at all.”
“Really? How come?”
“All right,” said Hanne, clearing his throat. “Lemme set the scene for ya, eh? Picture this, if you can, in yer mind’s eye...”
“You mean, like, imagine?”
“Yeah.”
“Like, wiv me mind?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I hafta, like, close me eyes an’ stuff?”
Hanne looked at him and frowned. “No. You don’t.”
“I reckon it would make it easier if I did, but...”
“Fine.” Hanne took a deep breath. “Go ahead.”
“All right,” said Barls, closing his eyes. “Ready.”
“All right. Now, imagine you’re on a desert island. Are you picturing it?”
Barls nodded. “Yep.”
“Now on this island,” said Hanne slowly, “you ‘ave everything you need to live, and live well. Food, drink, girls, the lot. Maybe it doesn’t ‘ave every luxury a man could want. I mean, you don’t live in a mansion or nothin’, an’ you’re not eatin’ meat every day, but you know... life’s passably good. And, well, when all’s said an’ done the island’s yours, eh? You own it, no one’s botherin’ you, ‘an you’re happy enough livin’ there. Things are all right, ya know?”
“Yeh,” said Barls.
“Ya with me?”
“Yeh,” said Barls again.
“All right. Now off in the distance, you can kinda make out a whole ‘nother island. Everyone’s always in yer face about how it’s much, much better than your island. And, well, it is. It has everythin’ a man could want an’ much, much more. An’ when I say everythin’, I mean everythin’. It’s a fuckin’ paradise, if ya will. Livin’ there, you wouldn’t want for nuthin’!”
“Sounds good.”
“Yeah,” said Hanne. “It does, doesn’t it? An’ ya might get there someday, maybe, but it’s a long ways away and it’s protected. You’d ‘ave to swim through an ocean o’ shit filled with monsters to reach it. The chances of reachin’ it alive are pretty slim. Slim to none, actually. Swimmin’ through shit ain’t doable for one thing, and even if it was, those monsters don’t take no prisoners. It’s certain death. So ya think to yerself, nahhh.”
Barls shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
Bene thought he did get it, stupid as it was. At least it was preferable to listening to all that stuff about Khela’s… appetites.
“Open your eyes,” said Hanne.
Barls did no such thing. “Huh?”
“I said, open your eyes!”
“All right,” said Barls, opening his eyes. “What now?”
Hanne looked at him. “You really don’t get it?”
“Nope.”
“Life,” said Hanne in a way that suggested it should be obvious. “I’m talkin’ about life, o’ course! Life! Do ya get it now?”
“No.”
“It’s a metaphor. The first island represents the life you got now.”
Barls thought about it. “Does it, though?”
“Well... I dunno. You sayin’ yer not happy with what ya got?”
“I ‘aven’t got shit,” said Barls, shaking his head. “So no, I’m not happy.”
“Well, then I dunno,” said Hanne with a shrug. “Individual experiences vary, I guess? Well, I’m happy with what I got, at least, so for me it’s a good metaphor. It works.”
“Yeah. All right. An’ what about the swimmin’ in shit an’ stuff? An’ the monsters? Because I know monsters are real. But is the ocean really made of shit? Thought it was more like, ya know, water?”
“Wow,” muttered Bene. “Just wow.” It was turning out to be a real meeting of minds, the discussion between these two.
“Ah,” said Hanne. “All that’s just another metaphor, o’ course. Represents the life you want. It’s about man’s struggle to better ‘imself.”
“Better ‘imself?”
Hanne nodded. “Yeah, yeah. You know how we’re always strugglin’ to get more money so we can get a better horse, or get better clothes? Or get better food? Well, there’s really no point in strivin’ to get the very best all the time, eh? Not if it just ain’t possible. I mean, we ain’t all born kings.”
“Yeh,” said Barls, scratching his head, “all right, but how is this about Khela?”
“Oh, it is. Can’t you see? We are talking about Khela, just in a roundabout kinda way. See, as far as the likes o’ you and me are concerned, she’s on that far island.”
Barls looked hurt. “This isn’t your way o’ tellin’ me to give up ‘cause I’ll never get ‘er, is it?”
Hanne gave Barls a sympathetic look. “No...”
“Cause I will get ‘er,” said Barls, making fists. “I will!”
“Not sayin’ you won’t son, but–”
“You won’t,” muttered Bene to himself. He’d have the little weirdo killed before he could even lay a finger on Khela.
“Everyone’s always sayin’ how easy she is,” whined Barls. “If that’s true, how could I not at least get a turn?”
“I know that’s what they say about her an’ all,” said Hanne, “but she doesn’t open them legs o’ hers to just anyone. Oh, no. You hafta be on her island first.”
Barls looked mystified. “She’s got one, too?”
“Yeah. Course she does! Everyone does. Or do you still not get it?”
“Then what–?”
Hanne shifted in his saddle. “Look, mate, think of the island thing as just my way o’ saying how a man should be happy enough with his lot not to go off tryin’ to rope unicorns.”
“Oh. I think I get it now.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Barls, nodding. “I got a question, though. I mean, are there like, I dunno, stepping stone islands... or something? Like, I said before how I wasn’t happy wiv what I had right now, right? Is it possible I might get a better island later on? Like, not the amazin’ paradise one or anythin’, because like ya said, it might be reachin’ too far. But what about a better one than the one I got now at least?”
“Oh yeah,” said Hanne, rubbing his chin. “Yeah. Absolutely. It’s a good point, actually. It’s often less about being satisfied with what you’ve got and more about not reaching too far. You know, not getting greedy?”
Barls actually seemed to think about that. “So what’ve you got, exactly? Who’s on your island? You got a wife?”
“Nah. Not anymore. It’s just me now, really. Just me on me own. Oh no, that’s not strictly true, I s’pose. Truth be told, I got a girl or two who takes a ferry from the mainland over to my island every now an’ again.”
“Ah,” said Barls. “I getcha. Whores, right?”
“Nah,” said Hanne. He shook his head. “Nah. I don’t do whores.”
“How come?”
“Well now I got nothin’ against the profession, generally speakin’, but it’s just that I think a lot o’ the practitioners just ain’t very nice people.”
Barls stared off into the distance. “I like whores.”
Hanne looked at him. “You ever been to Sohe?”
“Nope, can’t say I have.”
“It’s where I’m from, Sohe. Rough town. Some of the meanest, ugliest whores you’ve ever seen in ya life. One time, this real ugly slut tried to stick me with a knife even though I gave ‘er no cause. So, call it unfair, but me experiences in Sohe kinda shaped how I see the rest of ‘em.”
“Hmm.”
Hanne held up a hand. “Let me clarify. Now, I don’t care so much what a girl looks like if she’s givin’ it up for free. But no one should ‘ave to pay money to pork a fugly one, right? Goes against all o’ me principles, that does.”
“Yeh,” said Barls, nodding. “I can’t argue wiv yer take on whores.” He waited until Hanne turned to spit before reaching into his trousers again. The soldier turned back sooner than expected, though, and caught him mid-stroke.
“Yuck,” muttered Bene.
“What are ya doing?” asked Hanne, giving Barls a suspicious look. “Not havin’ a tamper, are ya?”
Barls blushed. “Nah. Nah, o’course not. It’s just… real itchy down there.”
“Crabs?”
“Nah. More like these little tiny, I dunno… insects?”
“Huh? Sounds like crabs to me, bud.”
“Nah, can’t be. I saw one up close an’ it didn’t have the nippers.”
“Huh?”
“You know?” said Barls, making scissor-like gestures with his hands. “Those little nippers they have? It didn’t have ‘em. Plus, we’re nowhere near the sea.”
Bene nearly choked on his laughter. “What?”
“What?” asked Hanne, eyeing Bene briefly before giving Barls his full attention again. “Look, if ya wanna get rid of ‘em, mate, go see Ghislaine. And if you don’t wanna get ‘em again, start trimmin’ the hair on yer nads. The little fuckers only love long pubes.”
“Yeah?”
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