Monsters of Men

“They ain’t yer missiles.”

“But they’re Viola’s,” he says, grinning at me. “And we’ve seen what she’ll do to protect you.”

“Mr President?” It’s Mr Tate, coming off night patrol and walking over to the campfire with an old man I ain’t seen before. “A representative is requesting an audience.”

“A representative?” the Mayor says, looking fake impressed.

“Yes, sir,” says the old man, holding his hat in his hands and not knowing exactly where to look. “From the town.”

Me and the Mayor automatically look at the buildings that surround the square and the streets that spoke off around it. The town’s been deserted since the first Spackle attack. But look now. Down the main road past the ruins of the cathedral, there’s a line of people in the distance, older, mostly, but one or two younger women, one of ’em holding a kid.

“We don’t really know what’s happening,” says the old man. “We heard the explosions from the battle and we ran–”

“War is what’s happening,” the Mayor says. “The defining event for all of our futures is what’s happening.”

“Well, yes,” says the old man. “But then the river dried up–”

“And now you’re wondering if the town might be the safest place after all,” asks the Mayor. “What might your name be, representative?”

“Shaw,” says the old man.

“Well, Mr Shaw,” says the Mayor, “these are desperate hours, where your town and your army need you.”

Mr Shaw’s eyes dart nervously from me to Mr Tate to the Mayor. “We’re certainly ready to support our brave men in battle,” he says, twisting the hat in his hands.

The Mayor nods, almost in encouragement. “But there’s no electricity, is there? Not since the town was abandoned. No heat. No way to cook food.”

“No, sir,” Mr Shaw says.

The Mayor’s silent for a second. “I’ll tell you what, Mr Shaw,” he says. “I’ll have some of my men restart the power station, see if we can’t get the lights on in at least part of the city.”

Mr Shaw looks astonished. I know how he feels. “Thank you, Mr President,” he says. “I only meant to ask if it was okay to–”

“No, no,” says the Mayor. “Why are we fighting this war if not for you? Now when that’s accomplished, I wonder if I may count on your help and the help of the other townsfolk to provide vital supplies to the front line? I’m talking food, mainly, but help rationing water, too. We’re all in this together, Mr Shaw, and an army is as nothing without support behind it.”

“Uh, of course, Mr President.” Mr Shaw is so surprised he can barely get his words out. “Thank you.”

“Captain Tate?” the Mayor says. “Will you send a team of engineers to accompany Mr Shaw and see if we can keep the people we’re protecting from freezing to death?”

I look at the Mayor in amazement as Mr Tate leads Mr Shaw away.

“How can you give ’em heating when all we’ve got is campfires?” I ask. “How can you spare the men?”

“Because, Todd,” he says. “There’s more than one battle being fought here.” He looks down the road as Mr Shaw returns to the other townsfolk with the good news. “And I intend to win them all.”

{VIOLA}

“Right,” Mistress Lawson says, bandaging my arm again. “We know the band is meant to grow into the skin of the animal wearing it and bind it permanently, and that if we take it off, the chemicals in it will prevent us from being able to stop the bleeding. But if you leave the band alone, it’s also supposed to heal and that’s not what’s happening to you.”

I’m on the bed in the healing room of the scout ship, a place where I’ve spent way more time than I’d like since getting back from seeing Todd. Mistress Lawson’s remedies are keeping the infection from getting worse, but that’s all they’re doing. I’m still feverish, and the band on my arm still burns, burns enough to keep me coming back to this bed.

As if it hadn’t been a hard enough couple of days as it was.

My welcome back to the hilltop surprised me. It was getting dark when I rode in, but lights from the campfires let people from the Answer see me coming.

And they cheered.

People I know like Magnus and Mistress Nadari and Ivan came over to pat Acorn’s flanks and say things like, “That’ll show ’em!” and “Well done!” They thought firing the missile was the best possible choice we could have made. Even Simone told me to try not to worry.

Lee did, too.

“They’ll just keep coming if we don’t show them we can fight back,” he said that night, sitting next to me on a tree stump as we ate our dinner.

I looked over at him, his shaggy blond hair touching the collar of his coat, his big blue eyes reflected in the moons-light, the softness of the skin at the base of his neck–

Anyway.

“They might keep coming worse now, though,” I said, a bit too loud.

“You had to do it. You had to do it for your Todd.”

And in his Noise, I could see that he wanted to put his arm around me.

But he didn’t.

Bradley, on the other hand, wouldn’t even speak to me. He didn’t have to. Selfish girl and the lives of thousands and let a child drag us into war and all kinds of even ruder things in his Noise lashed at me every time I got near him.

“I’m just angry,” he said. “I’m sorry you have to hear it.”

But he didn’t say he was sorry for thinking it and then he spent the entire next day briefing the convoy on what happened. And avoiding me.

I was in bed more of that day than I wanted to be anyway, so much that I wasn’t able to talk to Mistress Coyle at all. Simone went out to try and catch her and ended up spending the day helping her arrange search parties for sources of water, sorting out inventories of food, and setting up a place for that many people to use the toilet, which involved a set of chemical incinerators from the scout ship that were supposed to be used for the first settlers.

That’s Mistress Coyle for you. Taking whatever advantage she can get.

And then that night the fever got worse yet again, and so here I am still this morning, when there’s so much work to be done, so much I have to do to try and set the world right.