David Mitchell - Cloud Atlas

No complainers there weren’t, nay. Us peacesome Windward men was busted in body by wounds’n’thirst’n’hunger an’ busted in spirit by the killin’ we’d seen an’ the slaved future we seen b’fore us. No fam’ly, no freeness, no nothin’ but work an’ pain’ an’ work an’ pain till we died, an’ where’d our souls be rebirthed then? I wondered if I may meet Adam or if he was died ’ready or what. An elfy Hawi boy started blubbin’ some, but he was jus’ a niner or a tenner so no un hissed him to shuttup, in fact he shedded tears for all of us, yay. Jonas’d be slaved most prob’ly, an’ Sussy’n’Catkin too, but they was grim thinkin’s, see, both was pretty ’nuff girls. Ma was an agin’ woman, tho’ … What use’d the Kona find for her? I din’t want to think ’bout the roller pin woman in Honokaa who’d whocked me into the ditch, but I cudn’t stop myself. Lyons came over, said Boo! to the elfy boy so he blubbed badder, an’ Lyons laughed, then yanked off my Prescient boots. He admired ’em on his own feet. No more scavvin’ up Mauna Kea for Zachry Goatboy , that judaser speaked, so he won’t be needin’ these no more, nay .

I din’t say nothin’, but Lyons din’t like the way I din’t say nothin’ so he kicked my head’n’groin with my own boots. I weren’t sure but I reck’n he was second in charge after chief, leastways no un challenged him for my boots.

Night dripped an’ the Kona roasted chicklin’s over the fire an’ any of us’d o’ bartered our souls for a drip o’ that chicklin’ grease on our tongues. We was gettin’ chill now, an’ tho’ the Kona din’t want us too busted b’fore the slave market, they wanted us kept puny’n’frail ’cos we was ten but they was only five. They opened a cask o’ liquor an’ drank an’ drank some more an’ tore them delish-smellin’ chicklin’s an’ drank some more. They murmed a bit an’ looked at us, then a Kona was sent over to us with a torchin’ stick. He held it by each of us while his tribesmen crowed Yay! or Nay! Fin’ly he unbinded the elfy Hawi’s feet an’ s’ported him hobblin’ over to the campfire. There they warmed him an’ fed him some chicklin’ an’ liquor. Us f’gotten slaves was bein’ drained by hunger’n’pain an’ the mozzies from the slopin’ pond now an’ we was envyin’ that Hawi boy diresome, till at a nod from Lyons they ripped down Elfy’s pants an’ held him an’ busted that boy’s ring, oilin’ his hole up with lardbird fat b’tween turns.

Lyons was porkerin’ the sorrysome child when I heard a kssssss noise an’ he jus’ keeled over. The other four bust laughin’, see they b’lieved Lyons was bladdered with liquor but then ksss-ksss an’ two red spots grew b’tween another Kona’s eyes an’ he dropped stone dead too. A helmeted’n’caped Kona strided into the clearin’ holdin’ a sort o’ shinbone what he pointed at our last three catchers. Another kssss an’ the boy Kona was felled. Now the chief grabbed his spiker an’ hurled it at the helmeted killer, who dived’n’sort o’ rolled cross the clearin’ so the spiker tore his cloak but missed his body. A ksssSSSsss tore a slopin’ gash cross the chief’s torso an’ he sort o’ slid into two halfs. Hope creeped up on my shock but crack! The last Kona’s bullwhip wrapped round that lethal killin’ shinbone an’ crack ! That shooter quicksharped out o’ the rescuer’s hands an’ into our catcher’s hands like a magicky. Now the last Kona swivvied the weapon at our rescuer an’ ’proached close so he cudn’t miss an’ I seen his hands squeeze its trigger an’ KSSSS ! The last Kona’s head was missin’ an’ the breadfruit tree what’d stood b’hind him was a whooosh o’ cindery flamin’s cracklin’n’steamin’ in the rain.

His body stood lonesome for a beat like a babbit learnin’ to walk, then … dumm-fff! See, he’d errored the shooter’s mouth for its ass and flashbanged his own head off. Our myst’ry Kona rescuer sat up, rubbin’ elbows tendersome, plucked off his helmet, an’ stared mis’rably at the five died uns.

I’m too old for this , Meronym said, grim’n’frownin’.

We unbinded the other slaves an’ let ’em have the Kona’s grinds, Meronym’d got ’nuff for us in her horse’s saddlebags an’ them unslaved buggahs needed all the help they could get. All we took from the died five was my boots back off Lyons’s foots. In war , Meronym teached me, first you anx ’bout your boots, only second you anx ’bout grinds’n’all . My rescuer gived me her full yarn a long beat later in this Old-Un ruin in trackless bush on the Leeward Kohalas what we found an’ lit a small fire.

It ain’t long in the yarnin’, nay. Meronym weren’t in the Valleysmen’s store when the Kona attacked Honokaa, nay, she was up on the town walls sketchin’ the sea till a torchin’ crossbolt kicked that sketchbook out o’ her hands. She got back to the Valleysmen’s store b’fore the town gate was down, but Unc’ Bees shouted her I was missin’, so she went off lookin’ an’ that was the last she seen o’ my kin. Her horse’n’helmet she’d got from a Kona chief who’d charged down an alley an’ din’t charge out no more. In Kona gear an’ riotsome annacky, Meronym bluffed a way out o’ the blood-shot’n’torchin’ town. There weren’t no battlin’, nay, it was jus’ more a roundup, see, the Senator’s army s’rendered faster’n anyun. Meronym first rided northly Valleywards, but Kona was gath’rin’ thick round Kuikuihaele for their swarm into the Valleys so she’d turned inland ’long the Waimea Track, but that road was thickly sentried an’ she cudn’t pass for Kona if stopped. Meronym turned southly reck’nin’ to reach Hilo an’ see if it was still in freesome hands. But Sonmi stayed her for long ’nuff to glance a cart trundlin’ by, an’ stickin’ out o’ that cart was two feet, an’ on those two feet was Prescient boots, an’ only one Windwardsman she knowed what weared Prescient boots. She daren’t try to rescue me in daylight, an’ one time she lost the cart ’cos she’d roundybouted a platoon o’ horses, an’ if it weren’t for the Kona’s bladdery chorusin’ as they gewgawed the Hawi boy she might’ve missed us in the dark an’ ridden by. Oh, the risk she’d taked to rescue me! Why din’t you hide an’ save your skin proper? asked I.

She made a stoopit question face .

Yay, but what’d we do? My thinkin’ was stormin’n’fearin’. The Valleys is raided’n’burnin, prob’ly … an’ if Hilo ain’t fallen yet, it’ll fall soon …

My friend jus’ tended my wounds’n’hurtin’s with bandagin’s’n’ stuff, then raised a cup’n’med’sun stone to my lips. This’ll help fix your busted body, Zachry. Shut up your yibberin’ an’ sleep now .

A murmin’ man woked me in a leaky Old-Un shelter with leafs bustin’ thru the window holes. I was achin’ in a dozen places but not painin’ so sharply. Mornin’ was brisk’n’leeward-smellin’, but I mem’ried the desp’rate new age what was shadowin’ Windward an’, oh, in my head I groaned to be wakin’. ’Cross the room Meronym was speakin’ thru her orison to that sternsome Prescient what’d catched me sivvyin’ thru Meronym’s gear that first time. I gazed on for a beat, marv’lin’ once more, see, colors are spicier’n’brighter in orison windows. Soon he seen me risin’ an’ cogged me with a raise o’ his head. Meronym turned too an’ howzitted.

Better’n yesterday . I stepped over to see that spesh Smart. My joints’n’bones groaned some. Meronym said I’d ’ready met this Prescient what she said was named Duophysite, an’ I said I’d not f’gotten ’cos he’d been so scarysome. The windowed Prescient was list’nin’ to us, an’ his skel’tony face soft’ned jus’ one shade. Oh, I wish we wasn’t meetin’ in such dark times, Zachry , said Duophysite, but I’m askin’ you to guide Meronym on one last trek, to Ikat’s Finger. You know it?