Divisions by Ken MacLeod Page B

do that, or send out some general distress—’
    At that moment I heard a rhythmic thudding along the trail in the direction from which we’d come.

    ‘What’s that?’
    ‘Galloping horse,’ Malley said. ‘Get down!’
    We ducked behind the wall. I drew my pistol, wishing as I did so that I’d known of the properties of nettles before changing my suit: my hands were coming up in a nasty rash. The thudding sound got closer, then slowed and changed to a clatter as the horse encountered the stretch of paving. As it drew level I peered out through the stems of weeds.
    A young woman was sitting on the back of the strange, huge beast, holding on and controlling it by an arrangement of leather straps and metal footrests. She was riding quite slowly now, looking from side to side. Her clothes were filthy, as were the sides of the horse, and a trickle of blood was drying below a bruise on her temple. As she turned to the right, almost facing me, I recognized her.
    ‘Suze!’ I called, standing up.
    She jumped and the horse shied and whinnied, then she tugged on the straps she held and said something, and the beast settled. Malley, with a grunt and a glower, straightened up and followed more slowly as I skipped over the tumbled brickwork and down to the path.
    ‘Are you all right, Ellen?’ She looked past me at Malley, and her eyes widened. ‘Is that—?’
    ‘The great man himself, yes,’ I said. ‘But Suze, what about you? What happened?’ Not that it was hard to guess.
    ‘I followed you,’ she said. ‘I know you didn’t want me to come, but—’
    ‘It was a kind thought,’ I said.
    ‘Well.’ She smiled down at us, uncertainly. ‘I took a barge up the canal and borrowed Bonnie here.’ She patted the horse’s neck. ‘I’ve ridden her before, and she’s much better on the forest paths than a buggy, you know. When I rode into the village back there the locals saw I was Union, and some sort of riot started, all yelling and running. They pelted me with stones and, uh, shit. I didn’t know what was going on, so I just put my head down and dug in my heels. And here I am.’
    Here you are. Another innocent to look after.
    ‘Anybody follow you?’
    She shook her head. ‘What about you?’ she asked.
    I introduced her to Malley and outlined our plight.
    ‘Oh!’ she said, peering anxiously around. ‘You mean there might be people out looking for us right now?’
    ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Over to you, Dr Malley.’
    ‘Call me Sam,’ he said, possibly irritated by Suze’s star-struck glances at him. ‘Everybody does. Short for Isambard. Right. Suze, can you put a call through to Alexandra Port, arrange a chopper pick-up?’
    ‘Yes, of course, Doc—Sam.’

    ‘OK.’ He closed his eyes and pinched his forehead with thumb and forefinger, looking as tired as I felt. ‘You do that, ask them to be ready for take off in about an hour. We make our way through the trees to the east of the path, around the back of the village, hide out by the shore, and then no doubt Ellen here will be able to give them our exact coordinates from her magic suit’s gee-pals link, right?’
    I nodded.
    ‘Okay,’ said Malley. ‘Suze, you’re going to have to say goodbye to the horse, I’m afraid, but I assure you the locals won’t maltreat her.’
    Suze removed the horse’s harness and sent her cantering away southward with an affectionate slap on the rump. Then she unclipped a narrow-band transmitter from her belt, tuned it to the nearest communications satellite relay, and called up Alexandra Port. She frowned and shook her head.
    ‘Message got through, but there’s no acknowledgement.’
    Malley shrugged. ‘Try again when we get there.’
    He turned, and Suze and I followed him under the trees to the east of the path. The way through the trees, bearing generally rightward, was much harder than one might expect. They were old woods, so the canopy was high and thick enough to choke off most undergrowth. However, the ruins