“I don’t know,” Bradley says. “Are you the only alternative?”
“Bradley,” Simone says, “she’s got a point.”
“She does?”
“We can’t make a new settlement in the middle of a war,” Simone continues. “And this is our last stop. There’s nowhere else for the ships to go. We have to find a way to make it work here, and if we’re in danger–”
“We could land somewhere else on the planet,” Bradley says.
Mistress Coyle takes a sharp breath. “You wouldn’t.”
“There’s no law that says we have to join up with the previous settlement,” Bradley says to her. “We never had any communication from you so we were already landing on the assumption you hadn’t made it. We could just leave you to your war. Find our own place to start life new.”
“Abandon them?” Simone says, sounding shocked herself.
“You’d end up fighting the Spackle anyway,” Mistress Coyle says, “without anyone experienced to help you.”
“Whereas here we’d end up fighting both Spackle and men,” Bradley says. “And probably you, eventually.”
“Bradley–” Simone says–
“No,” I say, loud enough for them to hear me.
Because I’m still watching the projection, watching men and Spackle die–
And I’m still thinking of Todd, of all the death I would have caused for him–
It makes me dizzy.
And I don’t ever want to be in that position again.
“No weapons,” I say. “No bombing anyone. The Spackle are retreating. We beat the Mayor before and if we have to do it again, we will. Same thing for a truce with the Spackle.”
I look at Mistress Coyle’s face, hardening at my words. “No more death,” I say. “Not by my choice, not even for an army that deserves it, Spackle or human. We’ll find a peaceful solution.”
“Well said,” Bradley says strongly. And he looks at me with a face I remember well, a face full of kindness and love and a pride so fierce it stings.
And I have to look away because I know how close I came to having them fire the missile.
“Well, then, if you’re all so sure,” Mistress Coyle says, her voice cold as the bottom of a river. “I’ve got lives to save.”
And before anyone can stop her, she’s gone, running to her cart and driving off into the night.
[TODD]
“CUT THEM DOWN!” the Mayor’s yelling. “SEND THEM RUNNING!”
It don’t matter what he yells, tho, he could be screaming types of fruit and the soldiers would still be surging up the lower part of the zigzag road, climbing over where it’s been blown away, hacking and shooting at the Spackle scrambling up it before ’em.
Mr O’Hare is at the front of the new group of men, leading the charge, but the Mayor’s stopped Mr Tate and called him over to where we’re waiting on the open ground at the bottom.
I hop off Angharrad to get a closer look at the arrow wound. It don’t seem that bad but she still ain’t saying nothing in her Noise, not even plain horse sounds, just silence, which I don’t know what it means but I’m sure it ain’t good.
“Girl?” I say, trying to rub calm hands over her side. “We’ll get you stitched up, okay? We’ll get you all healed up like new, all right? Girl?”
But she hangs her head down towards the ground, foam coming up round her lips and in the sweat on her sides.
“Sorry for the delay, sir,” Mr Tate’s saying to the Mayor behind me. “We’ll have to work on their mobility.”
I glance over to where the artillery sits: four big cannons on the backs of steel carts pulled by tired-looking oxes. The metal of the cannons is black and thick and like it wants to knock your skull clean off. Weapons, secret weapons, built away from the city somewhere, the men doing it kept separate so their Noise wouldn’t be heard, building weapons meant to be used on the Answer, ready to blow ’em to bits with no problem whatsoever and now used to do the same to the Spackle.
Ugly brute weapons that only make him stronger.
“I leave improvements in your capable hands, Captain,” the Mayor says. “Right now, find Captain O’Hare, tell him to draw back to the base of the hill.”
“Draw back?” says Mr Tate, surprised.
“The Spackle are on the run,” the Mayor says, nodding at the zigzag road, almost clear of Spackle now as they disappear over the top of the hill into the upper valley. “But who knows how many thousands are waiting on the road above? They’ll regroup and replan and we shall do the same here and be ready for them.”
“Yes, sir,” Mr Tate says, and takes off on his horse.
I lean into Angharrad, pressing my face against her side, closing my eyes but still seeing everything in my Noise, the men, the Spackle, the fighting, the fire, the death, the death, the death–
“You did well, Todd,” the Mayor says, riding up close behind me. “Very well indeed.”
“It was–” I say but I stop.
Cuz how was it?
“I’m proud of you,” he says.
I turn to him, my face a picture.
He laughs at my expresshun. “I am,” he says. “You didn’t buckle under extreme pressure. You kept your head. You kept your steed even though she was injured. And most importantly, Todd, you kept your word.”
I look into his eyes, those black eyes the colour of river rock.
“These are the actions of a man, Todd, truly they are.”
And his voice feels true, his words feel true.
But then they always do, don’t they?
“I don’t feel nothing,” I say. “Nothing but hate for you.”
He just smiles at me.
“It may not seem like it, Todd,” he says, “but you will look back on this as the day you finally became a man.” His eyes flash. “The day you were transformed.”
{VIOLA}
“It does seem to be ending down there,” Bradley says, looking at the projection.
A separation is opening up on the zigzag road. The Mayor’s men are pulling back and the Spackle are retreating, leaving an empty hill between them. We can see all of the Mayor’s army now, see the big cannons he’s somehow got, see his soldiers starting to gather themselves in some order at the bottom of the hill, regrouping to prepare to fight again, no doubt.