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fulness. Thank you very much!
My pleasure. We live to serve.
As she travelled even deeper within the Ring, the gloom
thickened around Kapuzine, but her spirits had been lifted.
Wending her way through the underbrush, the little girl came at
last to the fountain, wondered idly at the moss-covered statuary,
and then entered the side street that led to the Sonnenfelsgasse.
For the Wrst time, Kapuzine noticed songbirds warbling in the
trees. There were Xowers blooming here and there; as she bent
down to peer at them she realized some were in fact quite pretty.
This forest was not so hateful after all. Her heart beat happily as
she walked, and she daydreamed about the taste of her Wrst
cigarette.
Her eyes had grown attuned to the patterns of the greenery sur-
rounding her. So, when she came to the next intersection, she
realized that the tiny purple Xowers of a clinging vine near the
corner spelled out the name of the street. Sonnenfelsgasse! The
street names had been there all along, but she had been looking
for printed signs. What a silly girl I am! she thought. Mareen had
forgotten to explain this trick of the Gardeners to her, but she
should have understood right away.
Now that she knew what she was looking for, she quickly spot-
ted house numbers amid the ivy screening the facades down the
Sonnenfelsgasse. They were limned by yellow blossoms, and she
counted oT the numbers as she walked, until she found
Sonnenfelsgasse 263.
The doorway, behind a curtain of hanging vines, was Xanked
by a metallic box she recognized with a thrill of pleasure: an
intercom. So, the Gardeners hadn t yet expunged all signs of civ-
ilization from the City!
She approached the door, glanced around guiltily, then mur-
mured into the box: It s me, grandmother. I am bringing cake
and wine. Open the door.
KAPUZINE AND THE WOLF 327
Lift the latch, replied a scratchy, tinny voice. I am too weak,
and cannot get up.
This made no sense, but it was the expected countersign, so
Kapuzine trustingly waited for Mareen s contact to unlock the
door. The lock clicked open and the muVed voice added:
Just come up the stairs to the Wrst landing. I ll be there.
Inside the stairwell, the air was dank and smoky, with brands
picked from Xame-trees burning slowly in the darkness. The
wooden steps creaked as Kapuzine climbed swiftly. All her fears
had left her she was too young to know that to be unafraid is to
blunder blindly into the walls of life.
When little Kapuzine reached the Wrst landing, she pushed
open a half-closed door, discovering an empty room, rank with
the smell of disuse. A scarred tree trunk Wlled the windowframe.
What little light slipped around it only served to emphasize the
room s squalor. Sitting on an overturned crate, a woman wrapped
in a long cloak turned her head when Kapuzine came in.
The young girl froze, surprised to feel so uneasy when she d
reached her goal at last. For a moment, she stood transWxed by the
gaze of the woman s unnaturally wide eyes, almost owl-like in
the Xatness of their corneas.
Oh, grandmother, what big eyes you have, Kapuzine whis-
pered.
The better to see you with, my dear, answered the woman
aTably.
Somewhat reassured by the Woodcutter s tone and by the axe
she could now see in the room s corner, Kapuzine sidled closer. But
when the woman nodded approvingly, a strand of her hair parted
and the young girl stopped moving, struck by the sudden glimpse.
Oh, grandma, she said disbelievingly, what big ears you
have . . .
The better to hear you with, my child, replied the woman,
who was no longer smiling.
Kapuzine saw then the weapon lying on the crate beside the
seated woman, and she backed away abruptly, until the back of
her legs bumped against the large earth-Wlled bin from which the
room s tree was growing.
328 WITPUNK
Oh, what a big gun you have, she said, her voice tearing with
despair.
The young girl tightened her grip on the basket s handle, but it
was too late. It had been too late when she had entered the room.
The false Woodcutter rose to her feet, throwing back her cloak to
show the black uniform beneath.
The better to arrest you with, the Wolf said coldly.
The injustice of it all Wlled Kapuzine to bursting. But I did
everything the way I was supposed to! she cried out.
Sometimes, that simply isn t enough, said the Wolf, as she
levelled her gun upon the trembling girl in front of her. You men-
tioned Sonnenfelsgasse 263 to my colleague. It so happens that
only yesterday, we rooted out this particular nest of Woodcutting
vermin. My colleague sent a Swallow by another route to warn
me; he got here even faster than a Messenger Pigeon. We had
already learned the countersigns . . . And here you are.
The Wolf motioned with the gun, Now, come with me.
Kapuzine shook her head. Mareen s instructions had not cov-
ered such a turn of events. She no longer knew what to do.
Where are you taking me? she asked, not needing to fake the
quaver in her voice.
To the Tiergarten.
The little girl s determination crumbled. Her hand opened, and
the basket rolled onto the grimy Xoor. The Wolf did not bother
picking it up. Kapuzine knew then that, even if she was still far
from the pits of the Tiergarten, still breathing free air, still dressed
in the worn synthetic fabrics of the suburbs, she had in fact been
gulped whole by a force too powerful too resist. Though she had
not yet passed the gates of the Tiergarten, she had already entered
the belly of the Wolf.
Yet, though she may have thought herself forsaken by all, she
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