| As Long As There Is Hope Part Five By Jemmiah ********* "I don't like him." Jemmy eyed the weasel-faced guard as he strutted around in the courtyard. He'd been hovering about now for some time, swaggering across the cobbled surface backwards and forwards as if he owned the place. He wouldn't dare do that in front of Merdan, thought Jemmiah tersely. Then again nobody would. "Nobody likes him." Nadine replied as her eyes followed the object of their loathing with every stride he took. "He's a jumped up little kriffer, pardon my bad Corellian mouth, and he's heading for a very sorry end." "I wish he'd head there right now." Jemmy gritted her teeth. "You know there are more people arriving today?" "I had heard, yes." Nadine nodded, tidying a strand of shiny brown hair. "Wonderful. I am so thrilled. Bad enough the one's we have, let alone adding more to our little holiday resort. You just keep your head down, you hear me?" Nadine insisted. "You have an advantage that myself and none of the others have. You're small and easily overlooked. No offense intended." She gave the girl a pat on the shoulder. "Half the time they probably forget you're even here." "He doesn't." Jemmy scowled at Keleskladt who continued to pace up and down as if he might wear a trench into the cobbles. "And neither does Merdan. He never forgets anything." "Has he tried anything?" Nadine growled suspiciously at Keleskladt... "If he has, just say the word and we'll sort the kriffer out somehow, pardon my foul Corellian mouth again." Jemmy shook her head. "No. Keeps staring at me though. Gives me the creeps. Follows me around a lot. He's always trying to get me angry or cause trouble for me. He upended a bucket of dirty water over my nice clean floor, the miserable piece of Fleg." "I'll have none of that language from you, missy." Warned Nadine. "I didn't bring you up to speak like that. But you just say the word, and if he so much as looks at you in a bad way me and the girls will poison his kriffing tea!" "Pardon my Corellian mouth?" Jemmy hazarded. "Why, what have you done?" Nadine asked innocently. "Come on, we'd better go back to peeling those gourals." Jemmy dragged her feet reluctantly after the tall figure of Nadine. "But I seem to spend my life peeling gourals." She complained. "Can't we stay out for just a bit longer. I like the sunshine. I'm stuck indoors most of the time." "I'm afraid we dance to Merdan's tune, kid." Nadine placed a hand on her shoulder and steered her away from the courtyard. "We've had our allotted time to stretch our legs and now it's back to work." "S'pose." Jemmy pulled a face that under most circumstances would have caused Nadine to react with her typical harsh laughter… but at the back of her mind something about the kid was beginning to bother her. "Tell me something," Nadine said airily, trying not to alarm the girl, "you feeling okay?" "Why? What do you mean?" Jemmy asked, swallowing. "Why do you ask?" "It's just that when you said you wanted to stay out in the sunlight it kinda got me thinking…" Nadine chewed at her lip for a while. "You don't look your usual bright and bubbly self. And you do know that the sickness that was going about last year seems to be back." "I did work out what happened to Beralina, yes." Jemmy nodded, eyes to the ground. "She did nothing but complain about how dull and dark everything was. Always wanted to be outside in the sun." Jemmy looked up at Nadine. "Do you think I'm sick too, is that it?" How do I answer that? Nadine wondered. How do I tell the kid that it might be her head next on the block? She might not be ill, it might be a coincidence…but if she is and I've noticed it you can bet that Merdan will notice too. "I don't know kid, I was just wondering." She smiled at the girl. "Still, keep out of the way of the others, huh? Just to be safe. It's probably nothing. Don't give the likes of pig face over there a chance to hurt you in any way. I'm just waiting my chance to get at that kriffer, pardon my overworked Corellian mouth." "You didn't go after Levinstowe." Jemmy said slowly. Nadine sighed deeply, a sigh that sounded more like a squeezebox than a gentle breeze. Probably all that cheap Tabacc, Jemmy noted fondly. "Levinstowe was too important at the time." She said in a voice as hard as gravel. "If anyone had tried to get even with him our revenge would have lasted precisely as long as it took Merdan to get to the bottom of things. He was bombproof, that's why he kept on doing what he did for as long as he could. But the moment Merdan got the upper hand he didn't exactly last long, did he?" "I wish him in hell." Jemmy spat. "So do we all." Nadine continued to pull her along. "Come on. Thinking of the past does none of us any good." "It's not as if we have much of a future, is it?" Jemmy shot back. "If you think like that you are letting sickos like Levinstowe win. That's what he wants. To cause pain and misery. You told me that you were determined to put that kriffer out of your mind and I thought that was so brave for a little girl to say. I've always admired that about you, kid. You bury the bad things away and you get on. Don't give Levinstowe another thought. He isn't kriffing worth it, pardon my thoroughly vile Corellian tongue." The two figures headed back through the security doors and then inside the main building, a series of rather gaudy looking recreation rooms and bedrooms decorated in colors that under no circumstances and even in poor light would ever be called tasteful. But then it wasn't supposed to be, especially when you considered the nature of the place. Merdan might like to call this place a hotel with all 'extras' added on, but it was a place where the guests could leave and the 'extras' had no say in the matter whatsoever. And it irked Jemmy no end that she was one of those 'extras'. There were all kinds of people who arrived on Nargotria. Most of them were business men, smugglers, politicians even - all though Jemmy didn't think she'd know a politician just by looking at one - anyone who could pay for services rendered. Most of them were decent enough under the circumstances. There were always one or two strange people. VERY strange people, if you believed what the other girls said. Then there were animals like Levinstowe, although mercifully they were few and far between. Down to the basement and the huge kitchen area they continued, and with heavy steps Jemmiah walked over to the bench by the long table and sat herself down. She picked up the chopping board and the knife, setting them directly before her and then reached into the bag of gourals, selecting one of the biggest of the root vegetables. Nadine smiled as she dug into her jacket pocket. "Here. Perk of the job. I know you like chocolate." She said, tossing the bar over to her. "Where did you get it?" Jemmy asked as she caught it one handed. "Client. He was quite nice actually. So that should help the peeling go a little quicker, huh kid?" she grinned. Jemmy smiled weakly and unwrapped the chocolate. She had no real appetite and hadn't for a while now. Still, if she turned down the chance of chocolate Nadine would definitely know there was something not quite right. Hesitantly she put a square into her mouth and let it melt slowly, not wanting to chew incase she became as sick as she felt. She was aware of Nadine's eyes on her and so swallowed the substance as quickly as she could. "Why do we get so many gourals?" Jemmy complained after she had recovered her composure. "Because they are cheap, nutritious and easy to cook." Nadine answered as she began to fill a basin with water. "With the emphasis on cheap." "I don't even like gourals any more." Jemmy sighed, tossing the skin away... "Good. That should make it easier for you." The older Corellian answered gruffly. "You want to know the secret of peeling and chopping vegetables? Pretend they're someone you don't like." Jemmy looked at the peeled goural and picked up the sharp knife. WHACK! That's for Keleskladt! WHACK! That's for Merdan! Her hands sought the larger knife, more of a meat chopper than anything else but still… And this Levinstowe is for you! CHOP! "Feeling better now?" Nadine asked as Jemmy studied the three sections of Goural on the board. The girl nodded. "I could almost get to like this." She replied as she selected her next victim. *************** "Sleep, padawan." "I'll try, master. I'm just not very tired that's all." Obi-Wan sighed, and dejectedly shuffled towards the cot where he had thrown his blanket. It was a lie of course. He WAS tired. It was just that there was too much buzzing round and round in his head. The journey was under way at last, and the small craft they had chartered would take them as far as the rendezvous ship in the Jantau system. Normally he would be looking forward to escaping the temple environs but this time he was finding it difficult to become at all excited at the prospect. A jedi should not look for excitement, he almost heard Yoda chastise him. Obi-Wan got so far along before stopping by the wall, shoulders slumping dejectedly. "Master?" "Obi-Wan?" "Are we in any…danger on this trip?" he hazarded. "You've not said much about the mission. I just wondered if that was because it was better I know as little as possible." Smart thinking, padawan, Qui-Gon smiled inwardly at the logic Obi-Wan had misapplied to his reticence. But it's not because I think you should know as little as possible. I think you should know as much as possible…but how do I tell you? "No, Obi-Wan. It's not that at all. As for danger, there is that to be found in every mission we are sent on. You can be certain that there will be times that our duty as ambassadors will prove every bit as treacherous as any espionage we have to carry out." "Is that what we are doing then, master?" Obi-Wan stared at the dignified and controlled face. "Are we spying?" Qui-Gon considered what exactly to say. Keeping Obi-Wan in the dark was more likely to cause harm in the long term. He knew the boy would play his part as well as could be expected, but under the circumstances of where they were heading for, it was still going to be unpleasant for him to learn the truth. For the first time since he had insisted to Valorum that his padawan come with him on the mission, he found himself regretting his decision. "In a manner of speaking." He nodded slowly. "This isn't going to be a pleasant experience at all for either of us. We have to search for a friend of the chancellor's who has disappeared in…unusual circumstances." "That doesn't sound too bad so far, master." Obi-Wan replied carefully. "Yes, well." Qui-Gon mumbled. "There is a possibility that this person has fallen into the hands of some unscrupulous persons as yet unknown to us. To make matters worse we are searching an area that is known pirate territory. Our own safety has been insured only because of the substantial amount of money that was paid in advance via equally unscrupulous sources. We should be safe on the way there." "What about the way back?" Obi-Wan dared to ask. "It depends on whether or not they like our faces." Qui-Gon managed to jest. Obi-Wan looked the tall man up and down. "In that case I think we could be in trouble." He quipped. "What's the matter with my face?" Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed slowly like a carnivorous plant round a fly. "There's nothing actually wrong with it." Obi-Wan dared to voice his opinion. "I'm glad to hear it." "It's just not a conventional type of face if you'll forgive me for saying." Obi-Wan looked embarrassed. "Maybe if the beard was to come off?" "Absolutely under no circumstances will this beard ever come off." Qui-Gon pointed at his face. "I grew this beard for a very good reason." "To scare Master Falmar away?" the padawan wondered outloud. "I beg your pardon?" Qui-Gon let his back stiffen to indicate that the boy was on very shaky ground. Obi-Wan realized his error and tried to cover up. "N-no, master. It's just that Master Berlingside said you grew the beard to keep Master Falmar away from you because she didn't like the idea of getting her face all scratched and red…" he let his words die a natural and painless death. "Master Berlingside WOULD say something like that." Qui-Gon nodded. "But I am entirely satisfied with the way I look. And as I tell myself daily, it could be a lot worse." "Very true, master." Obi-Wan agreed. "You could look like Windy." "Pardon?" "I mean Master Windy…er, Windu!" Obi-Wan stammered. "Sorry." "If you were sorry you wouldn't have said it in the first place." Qui-Gon crossed his arms. "Don't be disrespectful. It's true that perhaps Master Windy…WINDU…" he glared at Obi-Wan, "is not as blessed as the like of myself or Master Berlingside in certain areas but that is no reason to say that sort of thing. And if you are wise you will never say that to his face." "He's got really small feet, too." "Again, I wouldn't say that to his face either." muttered Qui-Gon. "Short of surgery we are stuck with the faces the force intended us to wear. What we can do is make a few alterations along the way. As for what these people will make of us, well it makes sense to wish to keep paying customers healthy and alive. That way they come back and spend more money." He beckoned Obi-Wan forward again, and the padawan gave a huge yawn. "I thought you said you weren't tired. "I'm not master, really I'm not." He stifled the second yawn that came hard on the heels of the first. "I just keep feeling something odd is going to happen, that's all." Qui-Gon chewed at his lip. "Have you had any more of these visions of yours?" he asked gently. "No, master. But I keep hearing things. Like it's distant…far off." "Like what?" he prompted. The padawan shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Crying, sometimes. Master, where are we going?" Qui-Gon gave up his attempts to try to smooth the nastiness of the situation away and decided that it was time to be frank with the boy. How much should he tell him? How much would he understand? "We are heading for a planet called Nargotria." He said finally. "Is that the place where the Nargots come from?" the padawan wondered. "Originally, yes. Of course Nargot racing has been popular for a millennia but it all stemmed from that sector. I suppose gambling and betting has always gone hand and glove with the other less acceptable practices that go on in those parts." He watched Obi-Wan's face to see if the boy had any idea what he was talking about, and could see by the slow traces of discomfort that he had a fair idea of what he was alluding to. "You do know what a brothel is, don't you?" he asked carefully. "Isn't that a clear, salty soup?" he asked innocently. "PADAWAN…" Qui-Gon breathed. "Truthfully now." "Yes, master." He nodded, the flame color crawling across his features. "The Chancellor thinks there is a very high chance that the envoy he sent to the area has fallen into the hands of local villains." "Brothels aren't illegal, master." Obi-Wan frowned, trying not to let the gentle drone of the ship's engine's lull him into sleep. You know more than I gave you credit, padawan, Qui-Gon noted silently. "This is true. But it is possible that there are other things going on in connection with this. Other disappearances. If people are being abducted and held against their will to work in these places, that IS illegal. Now," he lowered his voice, "our mission is to find out what became of the envoy. It might be unpleasant but if we stick to our story then we should both be fine." Obi-Wan fidgeted slightly. "What IS our story, master? What reason would I have to go to…I mean I…" he felt his face turn from flame color to vivid crimson. "I am your uncle. I am a businessman who has been given charge of his nephew after the death of your parents. My name is Brad Logan and I work for an outfit that specializes in spacecraft design. You are Jacen Logan and are the son of my late dead younger brother." "Jacen?" Obi-Wan frowned in distaste. "Why Jacen? I don't look like a Jacen!" "You will do in a very few moments." Qui-Gon answered. "Turn around, if you please." "Why, master?" The suspicion grew. "Because we need to do something about that hair. You stand out a parsec with that hair cut. It's the braid, really." "You…you're not going to remove my braid!?" Obi-Wan gulped. "Of course not. But I am going to have to do something about it. Now, if I can't remove it I will have to do something else to disguise it. Stay still." Obi-Wan suddenly became acutely aware of his own breathing as Qui-Gon opened up a small container. He didn't want to think what he was doing to his hair. Please don't let him cut my braid off…please don't let him cut my braid off… he begged mentally. He felt Qui-Gon's hands work on his scalp next to where his braid sat. "I can't take the braid away, so before I left I had a little word with Master Amaline and she gave me these." He waved a slightly fatter clip-on braid infront of Obi-Wan's face that replicated his own. So, where you once had one you will now have fifteen." "Fifteen?" Obi-Wan gulped. "That's correct, padawan." He continued to attach the braids to the boy's head, although the short spiky hair did not help him in the least. Since he had known that Obi-Wan would be going with him he had refused to cut his hair. Hopefully with a few more days ahead of them it would grow a tiny amount more. After a further five minutes, Qui-Gon steered the horrified teenager towards the mirror. "There," he said proudly, "see if you can spot your own braid amongst that lot." Obi-Wan gazed in shock at his reflection. His own braid was easy to spot, coming from the side and being drawn in to a central clump of thirteen different colored braids at the back of his skull. On the other side another braid (which Obi-Wan couldn't understand how his master had got to stay where it did) mirrored his own one, inturn being drawn back into the main bunch. "It's a bit girlie." He swallowed. "It will have to suffice." Qui-Gon answered. "But my own braid stands out a mile away! It's a totally different color!" complained the apprentice. Qui-Gon reached into the container and pulled out a small, evil smelling bottle. He depressed the cap and poured the contents over the boy's head. The color crawlers worked their magic, spreading across the padawan's hair and newly acquired braids, turning his hair from its usual red brown to a rather incredible near black. "Not any more." Jinn smiled. ************ Merdan sat back on his chair, resting his head full tilt against the wall, his booted feet crossed over each other upon his desk. More people arriving. More money arriving. More satisfied customers who would no doubt be happy to return. Piracy was a very lucrative business when combined with honest to goodness entrepreneurial skills. Stealing goods off people was one thing. Stealing the people as well was quite another… Rufus had no qualms about slaving, selling people or using them to make a profit be it in the long term or the short term. In the short term he was happy enough with his personal business venture but if there was the slightest way of expanding his schemes without jeopardizing what he already had then so much the better. Levinstowe had been gone for a while now, and with him the money he had brought to the partnership. He didn't miss Levinstowe but he did miss the money. Nargotria was in no danger of running short of funds as there was a steady stream of visitors -approved visitors- who were only too keen to throw their hard earned credits away on a few weeks or months of unadulterated passion. His list of clients were checked, vetted, verified and checked again before being approved and in any case it always paid to have some background information on the people who were setting foot on his property, not to mention using his property too. New visitors were required to keep his organization running prosperously and with every new person who passed the inspection the risk of getting found out by others increased tenfold. Not that Coruscant would ever be bothered to stir itself on Nargotria's account. A backwater little planet, not part of the Republic? External matters had never bothered them before and it hadn't seemed likely that would change even if they were discovered… Until now. Nargotria's resident, if sparse population had cheerfully ignored Merdan's operations as long as they themselves were left alone. That had suited Merdan just fine. But when he had heard that the planet had been put up for inclusion in the Republic, Merdan couldn't help but feel that time was possibly running out for him. And if he were forced to move, what then? Take his stock with him? Abandon them on the planet to their fate? Throw them off the cliffs? The latter two options did not make financial sense and first and foremost Merdan was a businessman, if a highly immoral one, but shipping his work force out at a moments notice was going to be a risky thing to do. If he needed to escape quickly, he would maybe have to do it alone. Leaving behind witnesses was not a good idea either. Oh, he'd considered it over and over again, imagining every scenario possible. Rule number one was survival: HIS survival. He could get new whores. They were ten a credit, and there were always slavers who would be willing to sell stock on the cheap. Some of his present workers had volunteered to work for him, seeing no better life for themselves elsewhere. Then of course, if he couldn't beg or borrow he could always steal… The envoy woman was dead and so was her crew. Let them tell any tales now, if they could. With their disappearance Rufus hoped to persuade the Republic that Nargotria was not the best candidate for joining their ranks. Pirates were known to swarm all over the area. It was a hotbed of criminal activity. With the Calton woman gone they would just assume that some unknown hostile source had run into her with dire consequences. And there were people enough on the Chancellor's staff who knew intimately the pleasures that the planet secretly harbored. Merdan smiled, suddenly feeling more secure. He was sure they could all be relied upon to suggest tactfully that Nargotria remained outside the capital's jurisdiction. Grey eyes glittering with a mixture of avarice and a small amount of satisfaction at the way he had arranged things, Merdan reached for the decanter of Sullustan red wine and poured himself a large glass. He had a fondness for the Sullustan stuff. Levinstowe had never shown any real taste in anything, but then pirates were generally speaking uncouth with little breeding in them. There were several dozen large cases of the Sullustan red down in the cellars, waiting to be unpacked. One of his 'clients' was an extremely wealthy wine merchant, who paid his debts by supplying the wine in return for the many varying favors his workers could bestow. Yes, he was quite relieved that Levinstowe was gone - yet one more liability off his back. His idea of what the wine cellar was for had led to an extremely unpleasant incident some years back, which inturn had brought about the death of one of his favorite workers. That Levinstowe had gone against his wishes in the first place had enraged him. That Levinstowe had killed the woman had virtually left Merdan on the hair edge of just shooting the man and throwing him off Kilmartra's cliffs. Unfortunately at the time he had needed Levinstowe's financial input and so taking revenge was an impossibility. He needed that money to expand his business. As he did now. Difficult as times might be, Merdan had finally decided to expand his business. More accommodation, more building works, more workers… More credits. He had a reserve of money, which he was loath to tap into, but tap into it he would if he wished the place to thrive. He didn't want to find himself in hoc to the likes of Levinstowe ever again. This was HIS show. He called the tune. A few calls to some of his wealthy patrons with the right contacts would soon get things under way. All he needed to do was tidy away some rather disturbing evidence that had been accumulating over the years. Picking up his com, Merdan waited for the familiar and thoroughly disliked voice he knew would be at the other end. "Keleskladt." He said in a low voice. "I wish to talk. I expect to see you within five minutes." The tone of his voice left little to the imagination. There was no need to use the phrase 'or else'. Cutting off the transmission abruptly, Merdan continued to reflect on how well things were going right now. It annoyed him to think that the wasting disease had returned to his camp after the measures he'd taken to remove it last time. Whilst he never made a great show of his presence on site he was well aware of what was going on at all times: he made it his business to know everything. He'd been forced to 'remove' that Beralina person just a few days ago because she'd been showing the classic symptoms of the illness that had been so rife last year. There were others he had cause to wonder about. The sandy haired Greta from Fedina. Even the young Corellian girl… Well, sooner or later his suspicions would be proven either correct or incorrect. Gods help them if he was right. Keleskladt knocked roughly on Merdan's door, and counting at least to thirty before replying Merdan finally bade him come in. He liked to keep his staff on their toes and making an uncivilized creature like Keleskladt sweat would do no harm at all. "Got a job for you." Merdan stared up at him, those eyes not so much as flickering away from Keleskladt's face. "Sir?" the shorter man looked uncomfortably back at the unflappable man behind the desk, wondering what this task could be. No doubt it was something he wouldn't much enjoy. Merdan gave all the kriff-like jobs to him. "Nothing too taxing, don't worry." Merdan let a slight tinge of sarcasm seep into his words. "Shovel duty." "Who now?" Keleskladt asked bluntly. "You've made an assumption there." Merdan said coolly. "This isn't a burial party. This is an exhumation party." "I don't understand…" Keleskladt frowned. "An exhumation…" "Correct. I want a party of your men to head over to where we've been dumping the corpses and dig them up." Keleskladt blinked. "All of them, sir?" "Yes. Do you have a problem with that?" Merdan asked silkily, leaning back in his seat once more. "N-no, sir…it's just that, well…that could take days. Locating where they all are…" "Then you'd better get to work. I want everyone accounted for. I'm planning on extending this complex. I'll be having the necessary men on site to get it built to my specifications and I do not want them stumbling over row upon row of remains. It looks bad and it might get back to the ears of people we'd rather knew nothing about it. So," Merdan took a swallow of his wine, "I want men out there armed with shovels to do some, er…gardening." "We don't have enough men." Keleskladt replied. "Then use some of the women, I don't care." Merdan shrugged. "Just get it done, swiftly and properly. I don't want any foul-ups here, understood?" "No, sir." He hesitated for a moment. "What about the corpses?" Merdan considered, tapping the decanter with long, fine fingers. "Throw them off the cliffs. Yet more old bones for the buzzards to pick clean." *************** "What's the matter, kid?" Nadine eyed Jemmy who sat on the bench, resting on her elbows in the kitchen. "You not feeling good?" "No, I'm fine." Jemmy shrugged, picking at a knothole in the wood. "I'm just tired, is all. Still, at least I can get some rest and in ten minutes or so. I'm off shift then. No more cooking or cleaning for the rest of the day!" "You've earned it." Nadine smiled. "You worked hard. Just be careful though and keep out the way of any of those kriffers that patrol the complex, ugly little pieces of fleg that they are…" A loud coughing noise from behind caused the two women to spin round to face the source of the sound, finding themselves looking at the repulsive face of Keleskladt flanked by two other guards. Jemmiah swallowed, not daring to wonder what this could mean. "You two have been commandeered." The man said in a gravel-like voice. "You're wanted." "Both of us?" Nadine put her hand protectively on Jemmiah's shoulder. "Surely…" "Not clients." Keleskladt shook his head, an evil grin spreading from ear to ear like a crescent moon tinged with darkness. "Not today." He winked at Jemmy. "We'll have to find someone very special to replace Mr. Levinstowe, eh?" "Keep away from her." Nadine stepped infront of Jemmiah, cutting the girl off from Keleskladt's view. "What do you mean we've been commandeered? By whom?" "We are going to do some spade work," the man nodded at the two guards on either side. "You and some of the other 'ladies' are going to be helping us to relocate some of the missing persons that we found nice little spots for in the grounds." Nadine's face completely emptied itself of blood, the idea filling her with total revulsion and horror. At first she wasn't sure that she'd heard the man correctly, convinced that it must be some sick joke of his. One look at his smug face told her that he was in deadly earnest. "Dig them up?" she could hardly get the words out from being so choked with disgust. "They're dead. Can't you give them some peace, even now they're gone?" "They can find their rest at the foot of the cliffs." Keleskladt grunted. Seeing she was getting nowhere, Nadine nodded slowly and tried a new tack. "Not the girl though. She's only little and won't be much use…let her stay here." "Merdan's orders." Keleskladt lied in a haughty voice. "You want to go against him? You go speak to him. I think I know what he'd say." "Nadine, please." Jemmy begged. "I don't want to do this." The older Corellian woman ignored Jemmy for a moment and fixed Keleskladt with a look that left him in little doubt what would happen if he overstepped the line. "Very well." She replied. "If you want to explain why there's no food ready for tonight, then that's fine with me." "You've got five minutes. If you're not out and in the courtyard by then we will come looking for you." He promised sourly. "Both of you." Once Keleskladt had gone, Nadine finally turned round to face the child. "Nadine…" Jemmy began. "There's nothing we can do about this, I'm really sorry kid." She said gently. "Merdan's orders, remember?" "But it's horrible." Jemmiah shuddered. "I don't know why we have to do this." "Remember that envoy woman that came here? It's probably to do with her. Maybe they don't want any evidence left behind should anyone go looking for her." "I don't think I can do it." Jemmiah confessed. Nadine knelt down and gave her a huge, bear-like hug. "You have to. We all have to. Remember that you're not the only one who's there. These…these aren't people anymore; they're just the husks. The shells that they no longer need. Try and remember that and you'll be okay." "Nadine, what if…what if my mother's there." Jemmy shivered. "I can't dig up my own mother. I can't do that." "Your mother's not there kid," Nadine replied, crossing her fingers as she spoke, "I saw where she was buried and you'll be just fine. I promise." Jemmiah looked at her face and wondered if she was being lied to, or even if she wanted to know if Nadine really was lying, but knew that she didn't have any choice in the matter. If she refused she was under no illusions that her own body would very soon be lined up alongside all the others that were being exhumed. "Come on." Nadine held out her hand. "We'd better get going." |