Den of Stars. Christopher Byford
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‘Meaning only mine.’
The nod was repeated.
‘How much?’
‘Around four hundred should cover it.’
‘You’ll get three,’ Misu countered, tossing the pleasant impression aside. ‘And I won’t hear a single objection. You’re pushing your luck out here. A bribe is not extortion. Learn the difference.’
Reluctantly she handed over a bundle of worn notes and waited for him to finish counting. When he was done, the money was inserted alongside the notebook for safekeeping.
‘I’m starting to wonder how a businesswoman like myself can ever make a profit out this way. Ask for that much from everyone and nobody will want to pass through.’ Misu scowled.
‘I’m sure anyone with a competent vocation can recoup this meagre amount in no time.’
The travel documents were stamped with the checkpoint’s seal and handed over. Misu snatched them back into her possession.
‘Besides, if you have difficulties on that front there are other ways to recoup your losses.’
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Sure you do,’ he repeated in a purr, reaching forward and leaning against the carriage. In any other situation Misu would have vigorously insisted that his hand was immediately removed. On a bad day she would be more inclined to break it. But there was no need for hostility yet. ‘You have the means here to make plenty of coin on the side. I think all you need is someone to broker the deals and you could live tidy. I can think of plenty.’
‘I sure don’t like your tone. Nor do I like what you’re implying.’
‘I could spell it out but the words I would use may not be suitable for delicate ears.’
Misu seethed. ‘My business is not perverted on the whim of the desperate. You’re not the first to suggest such vulgarities so I will tell you with no room for misinterpretation: I haven’t got this far just waiting for a man to corral us into a better life. We don’t need saving. We don’t need your management. All we need from you, right now, is to get out of the way.’ Misu moved her eyes to his intrusive limb. ‘Now get your damned hand off my train before I remove it myself.’
He shrugged in easy defeat as Misu began to climb the steps to the engine, encouraging the bulk of a man waiting inside to hold his tongue. Ferry was keen to intervene, vocally at that, but was silenced with a sharp swipe of her hand in the air. Instead, the driver returned to checking the various dials and gauges in the engine cabin, ensuring that they were ready for departure though not without a small amount of muttering. This was a colossal waste of everyone’s time and the sooner they left the better.
‘Nothing I could do to make you reconsider?’ the checkpoint hand yelled up to the woman as she issued orders to the driver to prepare to release the brake. The Morning Star gently throbbed into life, puffing out small jets of steam from its chimney.
Misu hung out of the cab to deliver her response. ‘Not in the slightest. Raise the barricade and tell your friend to step aside otherwise he may be pulled under our hefty wheels. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?’
Misu stubbornly brushed past Ferry and yanked on the whistle cord in two sharp bursts, impatient at having to endure any further interruptions. She would set them off herself if she had the knowledge though instead had to wait patiently for Ferry to do what he was paid for. He grunted after letting Misu have her moment before patiently heaving back the throttle and locking it into place.
The barricade was raised with the checkpoint hands waving the Morning Star away and out into the wastelands. Then, and only then, could Misu finally breathe a sigh of relief, but she knew full well that there still was plenty to be concerned about – and time to make up.
Attempts at small talk
The end carriage of the Morning Star was an observation car. It sported large windows, quite ornately decorated – much like the rest of the train – with walnut panelling, symmetrical bound curtains and flowered glass oil lamps connected to the carriage sides. The observation car was split in half, the first accommodating two lines of large leather chairs with side tables for each. The rear end of the car was domed, with two tiers of windows that provided a splendid panoramic view for those in motion. When in show, it became the locomotive’s smoking lounge.
It was here that Misu tucked herself away.
The windows were lashed with a shock of rain that trailed in thin rivers as they moved at speed. The cloudburst covered the sky in deep greys, built up from the region’s uncompromising heat. When rain fell in Surenth it had a tendency to fall hard and this was no exception. The cool wet breeze wafted through the car’s brass vents. Thankfully the deluge was little consideration to the Morning Star, which puffed on regardless. On the horizon a crack of lightning split the sky, landing somewhere on a hillside, its accompanying boom taking its time to reach the train.
Misu looked both at the window and through it, her eyes sometimes focusing on her reflection that seldom looked as tired as she felt. Quite the opposite in fact. The perfect duplicate seemed to stare back, even when Misu gave the slightest of squints as lightning fell once more.
‘Here you are. I’ve been from one end of the train to the other looking for you. Wait, do my eyes deceive me or are you actually relaxing?’
Misu snapped her attention away from the window as Corinne strolled inside. If it wasn’t for her announcement it was possible that she would have been totally oblivious to the company. Misu gestured to the paperwork on a smoking table beside her chair, accompanied by a plate of cake and a white china cup of pink tea seated on a dainty saucer. ‘Evidently not.’
‘What do you call the sweet, then?’ Corinne seated herself beside Misu in one of the high-backed leather chairs with unusually large armrests. It, and the others in the observation car, held people comfortably upright for taking in the view when the locomotive was in motion. Corinne often likened the chairs to a large hug. A couple of the shorter employees referred to feeling as if they were trying to eat them.
‘I call it a welcome break before the carnage is brought before me.’
‘You’re exaggerating.’
Misu pointed once more to the inch-high pile of paperwork she needed to review before reaching their destination. The train’s manifest was double-checked for accuracy, ensuring their last purchases matched what was on board. It was a painfully numbing experience and no way to entertain a few hours. A single detail out of order could spell disaster when checked, given that it was travelling over territorial borders regularly. The Morning Star could be refused entry, impounded, or worse. She didn’t know exactly how much worse things could get than the train being impounded but Franco once threatened it was somehow possible.
‘Trust me, the Star doesn’t run on kind wishes. There’s plenty to busy myself with.’ She leant forward and took the first portion of the dessert onto a silver fork and placed it into her mouth.
‘And that’s why you’re our manager. It comes with the role.’
Misu