Chapter 36: 36 Missing Stair, Part One

Angharad talked with Sophie late into the night, and much of the next morning as well, when they went to the laundry. It was nice – sort of like having a permanent sleep-over. She was determined to get what little good she could of Zapville, even if it was really a terrible sort of place where people carried weapons for fear of being zapped and she couldn't eat the food. Even if the rain, when it fell, was ominous and false, at least she had friendship. In spite of everything testing them, most people were kind.

The trouble was, she didn't really know how to warn Sophie about how creepy Darren was without being obvious about it or making things uncomfortable. So instead she just let Sophie talk about cute boys and gossip in general, who she thought was cute in Zapville and who Sophie had thought was cute before she arrived. Angharad learned about every boy in the north of France that Sophie had ever found disagreeable, and a fair few from Germany besides, with the subtext that the cute ones were, perhaps, even more disagreeable, because cute boys should not be allowed to be mean.

Angharad privately thought that the cutest tended to be mean because they could get away with it.

"Maybe it's just a boy thing. Like, they're not as smart as we are. That has to suck for them, you know?" Angharad said.

Sophie nodded. "Mmm, that makes sense. But it's a shame. If only there were other options than dealing with the stupidity of boys."

Angharad looked at her side on, amused. "There are other options."

"Ah, well, I don't think I could live my life as Angharad does. Ah, if only I felt the same way about nice girls as I do about cute boys! Then I would never have to worry."

Angharad shoved a sweater in the dryer, hopeful that the machine wouldn't chew it up like it had that summer dress Mac had borrowed. "I meant that we could just not talk to them. Feminist paradise. But, like, cute girls are not actually much less trouble than cute boys. They're just differently trouble. But mostly the same. I mean, they're more likely to actually look nice when you go with them to a school dance and they don't say stupid boy things, but all the rest of the stuff is the same."

"Ah, so disappointing."

"I don't think you're finding your future husband in Zapville, anyway."

"Maybe Darren's not the one but I do think he's much more promising than—"

"You know, I think Mac might be interested in me. Do you think she's serious?" It was easy to distract Sophie with gossip, at least.

Angharad didn't let the sweater go all the way through the cycle, had learned at least that much after two months of taking care of her own clothes. She only let it tumble long enough that it wouldn't be too damp when they took it back to their room to hang up on the rack they'd had the Colonel put together for them, because in this weather it didn't seem like things would dry on their own otherwise. (It had been fun watching him work as he put it together, jacket off, arms flexing, playfully pretending to flirt with them as he scavenged things to use for parts and then somehow made them all fit together. Some men were worthwhile, at least.)

*

But when they went to get breakfast, somehow Darren found them, anyway.

Ugh.

Sophie looked so happy talking to him. How was Angharad supposed to mention that he was super creepy and possibly evil? Josephine and Eleanor were in the cafeteria. Maybe if she stared really hard at their backs they would come over to the table and rescue her from her torment. She kept staring and staring until they finally turned around. Success!

She stood up when they came near. "I need to go do something. You guys keep Sophie company!"

"Aren't you going to eat?" Eleanor asked.

"Ah, no, all I can eat are those gross protein bars that Jin has. The food here makes me sick. It's so gross."

"Who's going to keep you company?" Sophie called out, as Angharad skipped away.

*

Tsuyoshi didn't look that excited to get back his mostly-dry sweater.

"You could have just kept it. It's just a casual sweater. I don't actually care."

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"But I went to, like, so much effort to clean it! Like, straight away, instead of at the end of the week like normal."

Zelko, lurking further down the hallway, said, "Nobody's going to congratulate you for using the washing machine, princess."

She glared at him. "I didn't ask. Whatever, I'm going for a walk."

She shoved the sweater at Tsuyoshi's hands so he had no choice but to catch it, and turned to walk out.

Reflected in the white panels on the doors, Zelko sighed and shoved his book in one of his pockets. "I guess we're going with you."

She paused, then turned to glare at both of them. "Did you guys make some kind of deal with Sophie so that I wouldn't ever be alone?"

"Of course we did," Tsuyoshi said. "How did it take you this long to notice?"

Even as she drew in a deep breath to calm her body down she could tell her face looked sulky and immature. "Fine, I guess."

*

The day got brighter, warmer, the light melting yellow over their little world. Angharad couldn't stop herself trying to look for clues for something as they walked, even if she didn't know what she looked for clues of. Nothing near the barrier seemed to have moved in days.

"So then the spy had to chase down the amnesiac Russian sub commander," Zelko said.

"Is this the same book you were reading a few days ago?" Angharad asked.

She didn't look at him as she asked. Not a pebble out of place behind this row of sheds, but she could see the line in the gravel that Jin and Tabitha kept making would have to be redrawn again. Was it merely the mess made by everyone's feet that blurred that one, or a sign from whoever was in charge that they didn't approve? Or maybe a thawing of hostilities between Jin and Tabitha? That would be cool. She could stand to have them being less weird about that stuff in front of everyone else.

"No, it's a different book," Zelko said. "That one was about a plane crash in Algeria that linked to a mystery about a French spy and his secret lover in Morocco. This is about amnesia and weird homoeroticism in eastern Europe."

"Because, like, it could just be a really complicated book. I hear War and Peace is like that," she said.

"I've read a translation of War and Peace," Zelko said. "It's funny."

They were nearing where she and Jin had found the wreck of the craft, if it was still there. She couldn't be sure nobody had moved it – probably they should have. Should they have told an adult? Suddenly she realised their investigation would probably be going a lot better if the colonel and the doctor were actually clued in on their results.

"Weird homoeroticism?" Tsuyoshi asked. "What does that mean? You don't think it's on purpose?"

There it was, the gleaming edge coming into view. Still there, still terrifying.

"No, I don't think the writer realises he wrote these two guys like they want to bone. They've been sharing blankets all through poorly researched Siberia," Zelko said.

"Now I understand why you read these books," Tsuyoshi said.

“No, I like the explosions,” Zelko said.

She couldn't walk further. In front of her, the sounds of Tsuyoshi and Zelko talking faded against the ever-present electric hum of the barrier. When she looked at the distance behind her she could see Darren walking, alone, away from her friends. She looked at the wreck of the craft again, hoping what she suspected wasn't right.

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