“Hard decisions have to be made.”
“And who put you in charge of making them?”
“Who put him in charge of locking away half the population of this planet?”
“You’re blowing people up!”
“Accidents,” she says. “Deeply regrettable.”
Now it’s my turn to take a step towards her. “That sounds exactly like something he would say.”
Her shoulders rise and if she had Noise, it would be taking the top of my head off. “Have you seen the women’s prisons, my girl? What you don’t know could fill a crater–”
“Mistress Coyle!” A voice calls from the trees. Lee steps back into the rocky gash. “There’s a report just come in.”
“What is it?” Mistress Coyle says.
He looks from her to me. I look at the ground again.
“Three divisions of soldiers marching down the river road,” he says, “full out for the ocean.”
I look up sharply. “They’re coming here?”
Both Mistress Coyle and Lee look at me.
“No,” Lee says. “They’re going to the ocean.”
I blink back and forth between them. “But aren’t we–?”
“Of course not,” Mistress Coyle says, her voice flat, mocking. “Whatever made you think we were? And whatever, I wonder, makes the President think we are?”
I feel an angry chill, despite the sun, and I notice I’m shaking inside these big stupid puffy sleeves.
She was testing me.
As if I would tell the Mayor where–
“How dare you–” I start to say again.
But the anger suddenly fades as it comes flooding back.
“Todd,” I whisper.
Ocean all over his Noise.
How he promised to hide it.
And how I know he’d keep that promise–
If he could.
(oh, Todd, did he–?)
(are you–?)
Oh, no.
“I have to go back,” I say. “I have to save him–”
She’s already shaking her head. “There’s nothing we can do for him right now–”
“He’ll kill him.”
She looks at me, not without pity. “He’s probably dead already, my girl.”
I feel my throat closing up but I fight it. “You don’t know that.”
“If he’s not dead, then he must have told the President voluntarily.” She cocks her head. “Which would you rather be true?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “No–”
“I’m sorry, my girl.” Her voice is a little calmer than before, a little softer, but still strong. “I truly am, but there are thousands of lives at stake. And like it or not, you’ve picked a side.” She looks over to where Lee stands. “So why don’t you let me show you your army?”
[TODD]
“Bitches,” Mr. Hammar says from atop his horse.
“Your analysis was not asked for, Sergeant,” says the Mayor, riding Morpeth thru the smoke and the twisted metal.
“They’ve left the mark, tho,” Mr. Hammar says, pointing at the trunk of a large tree at the edge of the clearing.
The blue A of the Answer is smeared across it.
“Your concern for my eyesight does you credit,” says the Mayor, sharply enough that even Mr. Hammar shuts up.
We rode up here straight from the monastery, meeting Mr. Hammar’s squadron coming up the hill, looking ready for battle. When we got to the top, we found Ivan and the soldiers who were meant to be guarding the tower. Ivan got promoted here, I guess, after all the Spackle were rounded up, but now he’s looking like he wishes he never heard of a tower.
Cuz it ain’t here no more. It’s just a heap of smoking metal, mostly in a long line where it fell, like a drunk man tipping forward onto the ground and deciding to just stay there and sleep.
(and I do my damnedest not to think about her asking me how to get here)
(saying we should go here first)
(oh, Viola, you didn’t–)
“If they got enough to blow up something this big . . .” Davy says to my right, looking across the field. He don’t finish his sentence cuz it’s the same thing we’re all thinking, the thing that’s in everyone’s Noise.
Everyone that’s got Noise, that is, cuz Mr. Hammar seems to be one of the lucky ones. “Hey, boy,” he sneers at me. “You a man yet?”
“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be heading, Sergeant?” the Mayor asks, not looking at him.
“With haste, sir,” Mr. Hammar says again, giving me an evil wink, then spurring his horse and shouting for his men to follow. They speed down the hill in the fastest march I’ve seen, leaving us with Ivan and his soldiers, all of their Noise regretting to a man how they ran towards the monastery after hearing the tracer bomb hit.
It’s obvious, tho, when you look back. A smaller bomb in one place to get people running away from where you want to plant yer bigger bomb.
But what the hell were they doing bombing the monastery?
Why attack the Spackle?
Why attack me?
“Private Farrow,” the Mayor says to Ivan.
“It’s Corporal Farrow, actually–” Ivan says.
The Mayor turns his head slowly and Ivan stops talking as he comes to understand. “Private Farrow,” the Mayor says again. “You will salvage what metal and scrap you can and then report to your commanding officer to relinquish your supply of cure–”
He stops. We can all hear Ivan’s Noise clear as day. The Mayor looks round. Every soldier in the squadron has Noise. Every one of ’em’s already been punished for one thing or another.
“You will submit yourselves to your commanding officer for appropriate punishment.”
Ivan don’t reply but his Noise rumbles.
“Is something unclear, Private?” the Mayor says, his voice dangerously bright. He looks into Ivan’s eyes, holding his gaze. “You will submit yourselves to your commanding officer for appropriate punishment,” he says again, but there’s something in his voice, some weird vibrayshun.
I look at Ivan. His eyes are going foggy, unfocused, his mouth a little slack. “I will submit to my commanding officer for appropriate punishment,” he says.
“Good,” the Mayor says, looking back at the wreckage.