The
basement of the house of the de Surdevilles was whitewashed, streaked
with grime and old stains as basements tend to go. Likewise as
basements of such houses tend to go, it was filled with instruments,
devices, and structures that the people living upstairs knew little
about and never use – washbasins, washboards, ironing boards, kitchen
equipment, fireplaces with spits turned by rising hot
air, and so on. The outside of the house gleamed white because the
servants cleaned it thoroughly, but the people living upstairs did
not care to ask how the servants did this; it was enough to know that
the work was
done. The inside of the house was spic and span, and the people
living upstairs barely wondered how this happened; it simply
happened. Why, if one employed the proper head servants, with
impeccable character and references, then the work seemed to do
itself! From the perspective of upstairs. Such was the shape of any
house in Les
Gens Biens.
From
the perspective of downstairs there was always something to be done,
and if the work ever got done it was never before long after supper.
Most basements in the district of Les
Gens Biens
were
full of people running about, here and there, hauling water, chopping
vegetables, bringing mops up and down stairs, scrubbing pans.
Save
for this basement. The hand that broke through the brick floor
entered a basement whose devices lay without hands to work them. The washroom stood empty, the kitchen was dark and cold, the band saw was silent.
There was but a young woman,
of tawny skin, aquiline nose and green eyes, dressed in a maid’s garb,
sitting at a pedal-powered sewing machine.
When
she saw the metal-clawed hand burst through the floor, she screamed,
and jumped
up from the sewing machine, backing towards the door. Had Alejandra
been any slower to pull herself out of the ground, the woman at the
door might have had time to open it and dash up stairs to raise the
alarm. Instead, the woman’s panicked screams fell silent as she
beheld the woman breaking in – the woman of powerful arms, pale
skin and fair hair, unmistakable even under the caked dirt.
"Alejandra," said the woman wryly, "you do realize
this house has a front door?"
"Let’s
just say I had to test my strength." Alejandra crawled
away from the hole and rose shakily to her feet, standing doubled
over with exhaustion, soaked with sweat and breathing heavily. "It
was a bit of a workout."
"What
exactly happened?" said the woman. "Did you try to rob a
bank and miss?"
"You
and I both know the best way to rob those is with a pen and paper,"
gasped Alejandra.
Maggie
pulled
herself up out of the hole. "Hello? I am Maggie. Alejandra, who
is this that you seem to know well?"
Alejandra
looked apprehensive. She glanced at the woman standing before the
door, who shook her head slowly. "This is...Mademoiselle le
Chiffre."
Maggie
looked the young woman up and down. Something about her appearance did
not seem to fit the idea of being French. But whatever it was, it
might not be wise to comment on a such a thing to the face of a
person who could instantly drop the maid act and be familiar with the heiress of a wealthy house.
"It’s
been quite a while since I’ve seen you in this part of
town," said the Mademoiselle. "I would have thought you had
finally given up simply slumming it and moved to Los Hijos
permanently. Have you changed your mind? Given up the fight? Gone
back to a place where taking girls home will escape the notice of Los
Ojos?"
"Knock
it off," growled Alejandra. "I was underground and I didn’t
have a clue which way I was going."
"It’s
almost like an incredibly convenient narrative contrivance,"
said Maggie.
"Hello?"
said the voice of an older woman from the other side of the door.
"Mademoiselle, what were you screaming about? What’s going on
in there? Open this door at once."
"Scratch
that," said Maggie. "It’s incredibly inconvenient. Back underground, come on." She dropped down the hole just as the door was
opening.
There
in the dark she heard the woman gasp. "Alejandra?"
"Mother,"
growled Alejandra.
"You
disgrace our family name," said the woman, "with your
lascivious lusts and your shameful straying – people tell me you
cross Division Road daily! They talk about you, I am humiliated, and
you – you just show up in the basement after months – how did you
even get in? Through the earth? Are you some manner of mole? Come
upstairs and get yourself cleaned up and we’ll have tea and discuss
your future. I am sick of this nonsense."
"I
already know my future," said Alejandra, "and I honestly
have no desire to remain here."
"That
was not a request, Alejandra de Surdeville."
"Hey,"
called Maggie up from the hole, "can I have some tea too?"
A
silhouette of an old woman appeared to block the basement light.
"What on earth? What in earth? Who is that? Alejandra,
who is down there? Do not lie to me."
"Hi,"
said Maggie. "I’m Maggie Noyr, and Alejandra is – I mean I
am – oh dear, I shouldn’t declare anything carelessly. Um...I
made the things that let Alejandra dig this hole. We were escaping
from the police."
The
silhouette tilted its head. "You are refreshingly honest.
Bracing, even. Mademoiselle, I think we will need the full tea
service, toute suite."
…
Alejandra
had an amazing technique of sipping tea through pursed lips. She
clearly inherited it from her mother. Here in the sunny sunlit tea
parlor, made even brighter by the universally white upholstery and
décor, silence reigned – even Mademoiselle Le Chiffre was pouring
the tea without a single sound.
It
fell to Maggie to break the ice. She turned to the maid, trying to
catch her eye. "My apologies for ruining the basement floor,
Mademoiselle, and for giving you a fright. I am gratified that you
are willing to serve us after such an unkindness."
Far
from breaking the ice, this seemed to lower the temperature in the
room by a degree. Mademoiselle le Chiffre briefly glanced at Maggie
without betraying a hint of emotion, and Alejandra’s mother, whom
Maggie could only think of as Madame de Surdeville, looked at Maggie
and raised her eyebrow, while Alejandra set her tea down and let her
hands sit in her lap.
Mademoiselle
le Chiffre finished arranging the jam and cream on the tray and
bustled out of the room. Thus was Maggie left alone to bear the
tension emanating from the two sitting with her around the tea table.
She cleared her throat. "I supposed I must apologize once more,
for speaking out of turn, though I will admit I am ignorant as to how
I have done so. Let me change the subject, then. The downstairs area,
where the servants work, it seemed to be empty. Are they all on
vacation somewhere? How do you get on?"
This
time Madame de Surdeville’s expression became stern. She fixed her
eyes upon Maggie and did not look away. "You certainly are
ignorant."
"I
suppose you could say I was born yesterday," said Maggie. "Ha,
ha, ha."
Alejandra’s
face finally cracked a faint smile.
Madame
de Surdeville turned to Alejandra. "Dear daughter, now that you
have at last returned home from your wayward wandering, let me ask
you: at what point are you going to bear a child to carry on the
family name?"
Alejandra
scowled. "I should not come home again, if that is the only
question you will be asking me, Mother."
"Whoa,"
said Maggie. "I thought this tea party was going to be a lot of subtle insults hidden behind high-society etiquette. Looks like the claws are all out
now."
"You
set the tone," said Madame de Surdeville. "We might as well
cut the bullshit and get straight to the important matters. Let me
ask you, mysterious woman who digs tunnels under people’s houses:
why exactly were you escaping from the police? What sort of
disturbance did you cause?"
"Smashed
Senor San Obispo in the face with a huge fish," said Maggie.
"Socked
a cop for trying to cop a feel," said Alejandra.
"Accidentaly mind-controlled someone," said Maggie. "It's been a rough first morning here."
Madame
de Surdeville looked amused, much to Maggie’s surprise. "I see
my daughter is putting her sporting training to use, then. She should
be a fitting match to the strongest of men, and bear many powerful
sons. As for you, Maggie...you are brave. Bold, even. Monsieur San
Obispo is not a man to lightly cross. You will see him again. If my
daughter is your friend, I daresay she will have to put her training
to use in your defense – especially if you are as honest outside
these walls as you have been within them."
"You
are an odd woman," said Maggie.
"I
am wealthy and well-connected," said Madame de Surdeville. "Thus
I am called eccentric, instead of insane. You, on the other hand,
seem to have taken things a step further, into realms where the
wealthy would be called tricksters and geniuses, and the poor would
be called rebels and subversives. What else am I to think of a woman
whose first thought of escaping a police station is to dig a tunnel,
instead of just breaking a window?"
Maggie
binked. "Uh...heat of the moment?"
"I
didn’t even consider it either," murmured Alejandra.
Madame
de Surdeville’s gaze shifted back and forth between Alejandra and
Maggie. "You two seem to be on the same wavelength. If Maggie
puts her mad genius towards devising some manner of producing
children with you using her genetic material, I would have no
objections to you two being wed."
Maggie’s
cheeks grew warm, and Alejandra’s face turned red. "Mother!
Would you please leave off that topic!"
"In
terms of more immediate subjects," said Maggie, "Now that
we are being terribly frank about things, I would like to return to the quesiton you did not answer before. Where are all your servants? Have you never had many, or have you simply lost all but one? Or is everyone having a party on the rooftop?"
Madame
de Surdeville sipped her tea and waited a moment before speaking. "I cannot say
precisely where everyone has gone...even if I have a good idea why."
She looked up from her tea, as Maggie leaned forward to listen more
closely. "It is not that they have gone to other households. I
have asked, I have taken tea literally everywhere, and no one in the neighborhood has seen them."
"Then
where?" said Maggie.
"You
haven’t seen much of Los Hijos yet," murmured Alejandra. "It
would be easier to explain if – "
"Did
they get vanished by Los Ojos?" said Maggie.
"They
disappeared all at once," said Madame de Surdeville. "Perhaps
they were having a party on some rooftop, and simply were
vanished all together. Any other way, they would have been vanished
one at a time...so I do not know."
Maggie
glanced at Alejandra, whose pensive, downcast gaze betrayed her
knowledge of the situation. "Maybe one of us knows?"
"And
does not wish to comment on the matter," murmured Alejandra,
"until she can show her odd and otherworldly friend the
aftermath of an earthly matter."
"Friend,"
said Maggie. "After what I’ve put you through today, when it
is only noon? You are most generous and patient. Anyway, I do believe
I have the ability to solve your problem. But let me demonstrate with
a friend whose disappearance was my doing. I declare that Luis
Alvarez, friend of Alejandra de Surdeville and Rafael Santos the Tour
Guide, is before me."
For
an instant, just a brief moment, no more than a blink, Luis stood
atop
the
table, upsetting tray and spilling the tea pot.
Maggie began to rise in her chair. But Luis was already gone, with
nothing more than a slight rush of air, before Maggie could get any
farther.
Madame
de Surdeville’s calm countenance finally broke. She looked at
Maggie with a mix of wonder and trepidation. "You are not the
mundane sort of trickster." She seemed to be pressing herself
back in her seat, as if trying to move away as far as she possibly
could. "You are the mythological
sort of trickster."
"I lead a curious existence," murmured Maggie, shrinking from
the gaze of Madame de Surdeville. "For what it is worth, I made
the choice to be only a creative force, which role I am now held to.
I will not accidentally vanish anyone or anything again, as I did to
Luis."
"But
Luis vanished again," said Alejandra. "Which
means...something is contradicting you? Oh no." She began to
shiver. "Los Ojos are working indoors now. There is no safe
place from them."
“Oh,
I doubt that,” said Madame de Surdeville. She pointed to a window,
which was open. “Look, we’ve been letting the wind in this whole
time.”
Maggie
rose, but Alejandra rose with haste and had the window shut before
Maggie could even get halfway there. “Call for Luis again,” she
said. “Call for Luis again and bring him back, and let me believe
that we have some sort of shelter.”
“Very
well,” said Maggie. “Luis Alvarez is standing before us.”
And
so he appeared again. He did not look perplexed, as Maggie would have
expected a man to appear after blinking into existence. He looked
frustrated, and apologetic. “I am very sorry,” he said, “But I
am being held captive.” And then he vanished.
“God
dammit!” said Alejandra. “God fucking dammit!” She grabbed the
pull cord for the window blind and quickly cut off light from the
window, then ran to the next one.
“Really,”
said Madame de Surdeville. “Let the maid do that for you,
daughter.” She rose and pulled a thin cord on the wall. While
Alejandra was busy ignoring the advice of her mother, her mother was
waiting at the door.
But Mademoiselle le Chiffre came. “That is very strange,” said Madame de
Surdeville. “Where is the help?”
“Perhaps
nowhere,” said Alejandra. “Maggie, call Luis back again.”
“Luis
Alvarez stands before us,” said Maggie. And lo, he stood before
them once more.
“I
cannot stay,” said Luis. “I am a captive.”
“Is
a young green-eyed woman with you?” said Alejandra. “Dressed in a
maid’s outfit?”
Luis
looked confused. “I haven’t even seen anyone with green eyes
around here.”
“But
where?” said Maggie. “Where on earth are you held?"
“Where
the stinging sands blow,” said Luis, “At the ends of the earth,
where I fear I must be, captive or no.”
“But
why?” said Maggie. “Here in the shadows, you should surely be
able to hide from the cruel eyes.”
“Hide?”
said Luis. “Like a frightened cat, like a weak little mouse? Where
I am held, there are so many others. Dare I abandon them? Our captors
have no interest in keeping us alive. I share my fish with these poor people, and
thus we survive, perhaps to break free someday. I cannot return the
easy way.”
“But
your Rafael,” said Alejandra. “What of Rafael?”
Luis
looked pained. “I…have my responsibilities.”
“And
who even are all these people who you care for so much more than for
Rafael?” said Maggie. “Where did they come from?”
“They
said they all came from Los –” but then he vanished.
“Oh
no you don’t,” said Maggie. “Luis Alvarez stands before me.”
Luis flickered into view and then immediately flickered out. “I
said, Luis Alvarez –” But then there was a pale hand upon her
arm, and a worried look from Alejandra. “What is it?”
“You
might hurt yourself. If you keep trying.”
Maggie sighed. "I appreciate your concern
for me. Am I forgiven for how I treated you this morning?”
Alejandra’s
face turned red.
“Is
that a yes?”
Madame
de Surdeville coughed. “Forgive me for sounding conniving in this
troubled moment, but though you may be frustrated by the demonstrable
limits of your ability, I am relieved to see that you have limits.”
Maggie
let out a long sigh. “I am as well, Madame. I am as well.”
“I
wish your limits prevented you from messing with my head,” muttered
Alejandra.
“I…can’t
guarantee that they do,” said Maggie. “But I can promise you that
I would never again attempt to directly alter the will or thoughts of
another human being.”
“Then
make the promise,” said Alejandra.
“I
just –”
“No.”
Alejandra glared up at Maggie. “Don’t equivocate. Declare it.
Speak it into reality with your power. I want a guarantee. I deserve
it. Everyone does.”
Maggie
held Alejandra’s gaze. “I will never again attempt to directly
alter the will or thoughts of another human being.” She glanced up
at where a stray ray of sunlight beamed through a gap in a blind. It
seemed brighter than before. “Not I nor anyone in this world has
that authority.” The sunlight grew brighter still, and Maggie
thought she could hear something in the wind that kicked up outside –
a fierce hissing, just for a moment. She looked back to Alejandra,
whose expression had changed to shock. “Something the matter? Did
you require more?”
Alejandra
shook her head rapidly. “I couldn’t ask for more. I mean, I
could, just not on that subject, um…” Her voice trailed off as
her face turned red once more.
“I
understand you are unwilling to suffer the authority of Los
Ojos.
I
have been instructed to oppose them. Do you believe we have common
cause?”
Alejandra
nodded.
“Capital,”
said Maggie. “Let us go and find a critical ally, then, and some
answers. Oh, and Madame -- if you are seeking new servants, might I kindly suggest you pay them a great deal more than the usual wages? Just on general principles, you know, fair day's wage for a fair day's work and all thaaaaaa...uh...I should have realized who I was talking to."
Madame de Surdeville's mask was on once more. "Kindly get the fuck out of my house and never darken my door again, dear."