Dancing With Bears - Michael Swanwick [74]
Zoësophia, he could see, was lost in dark thoughts, dominated by worry and more than a touch of tristesse. But no fear. So she suspected nothing. Surplus was harder to make out, since his face was covered with fur. But his body language said it all. He plodded along listlessly, walking stick tucked under an arm, paws clasped behind his back. He stared fixedly at the ground before his feet. He was the very picture of one who had accepted the inevitability of pain and death, and was now overcome with despair.
Or so Chortenko would have assumed, were he the sort to make assumptions. He was not. They were coming up on a trap he had prepared years ago, which had caught many a would-be fugitive. It was a door which had been left unlocked and just a little bit ajar. Anybody harboring the least spark of hope that he might escape would seize upon the opportunity and dash through it. Only to find himself in a cul-de-sac no larger than a closet.
Surplus gave the door a dispirited glance and continued past it.
So the sad creature was already as good as broken. Well, Chortenko thought, it was a pity, but all his research with the hounds had been for nothing. He would not have much fun with this one.
Zoësophia, however… Chortenko half-closed his eyes, imagining what might be done with a young woman of delicate sensibilities and a cloistered upbringing who blistered at the slightest touch of a man’s finger. Yes, there were possibilities there. Great possibilities. He would have to be careful to take it slowly.
He would have to make sure she lasted a long, long time.
Finally, the tunnel brought them to the kennels of Chortenko’s basement.
The dogs leaped and bayed furiously when Chortenko appeared, making the cages rattle as they slammed their bodies against the sides over and over again.
Zoësophia looked startled and flinched away from the dogs’ sudden violence. But Surplus only hunched his shoulders and stuck his paws in his pockets.
“You are dismissed,” Chortenko told the bear-guards. They saluted and turned back into the corridor, carefully locking the door behind themselves.
“Sir!” Five agents of the secret police stood in a line at the far end of the room. All wore drab civilian garb, and all, save for one, were ordinary-looking men. The speaker was simultaneously the tallest and thinnest man present. His face was so fleshless as to be almost a skull. “We await your orders.”
“So,” Surplus said in a dead voice. “It has come to this.”
“Come to what?” Zoësophia demanded. “Who are these men? Why are we in this filthy place, surrounded by wild dogs?”
Chortenko did not immediately answer. He had tucked his spectacles in an inner jacket pocket and was relishing the way the blood drained from her face. Behind his back, he held up two fingers.
“There are so many puzzling questions about the nature of the Byzantine mission,” he said in a voice that would have been reassuring to the lady were not two of his men pulling on cloth gloves as they advanced upon her. “I intend to have them answered.”
“Then ask!” Zoësophia cried, even as she was seized.
“Oh, there’s no rush, my dear. We have all the time in the world.” Chortenko turned to his men: “Throw her in an empty kennel. Not too roughly, please. I want her in pristine condition for what is to come.”
There were two unoccupied kennels. One of the secret police opened the nearest, and the two who held Zoësophia tightly forced her backward toward it. She struggled most fetchingly.
With disdainful ease, the men flung Zoësophia onto her back on the floor of the cage. Then they slammed and locked the door. She gathered herself up in a corner and crouched there, trying not to whimper in fear.
It was all most satisfying.
But, enjoyable as this was, there were more important matters to attend to. Chortenko had not expected the underlords, who would share only the broadest outlines of their plans with him, to be prepared to act until spring at the earliest. A hundred preparations would have to be altered. All the timetables he had set in place would have to be moved up.