Monsters of Men

“You shouldn’t be wasting all this time on me, Mistress Lawson,” I say. “I chose to have this band put on. I knew it was a risk and if–”

“If it’s happening to you,” she says, “what about all the women out there still hiding who didn’t have a choice?”

I blink. “You don’t think–?”

VIOLA, I hear, out in the corridor. Viola MISSILE Viola SIMONE stupid Noise–

Bradley pokes his head into the room. “I think you’d better come out here,” he says. “Both of you.”

I sit up in the bed, feeling so dizzy I have to wait before I stand. By the time I’m able to get up, Bradley’s already leading Mistress Lawson out of the room.

“They started coming up the hill about an hour ago,” he’s saying to her. “Twos and threes at first, but now . . .”

“Who did?” I ask, following them outside and down the ramp, joining Lee, Simone and Mistress Coyle at the bottom. I look out across the hilltop.

Which now has three times as many people as it did yesterday. Ragged-looking groups of all ages, some still wearing the night clothes they were in when the Spackle first attacked.

“Do any of them need medical attention?” Mistress Lawson asks, not waiting for a reply before she heads off towards the largest batch of newcomers.

“Why are they coming here?” I ask.

“I’ve been talking to some of them,” Lee says. “People don’t know whether it’s safer to have the scout ship protect them or stay in town and have the army do it.” He looks over at Mistress Coyle. “When they heard the Answer was here, that made up some of their minds.”

“Which way?” I say, frowning.

“There’s got to be five hundred people here,” Simone says. “We don’t have anything like that kind of supply of food or water.”

“The Answer does in the short term,” Mistress Coyle says, “but you can bet there’ll be more coming.” She turns to Bradley and Simone. “I’m going to need your help.”

As if you’d have to ask, Bradley’s Noise rattles. “The convoy agrees that our primary mission is humanitarian,” he says. He looks over at me and Simone, and his Noise rattles some more.

Mistress Coyle nods. “We should probably have a talk about the best way to do that. I’ll get the mistresses together and–”

“And we’ll include it with a talk about how to sign a new truce with the Spackle,” I say.

“That’s a thorny issue, my girl. You can’t just wander in and ask for peace.”

“And you can’t just sit back and wait for more war either.” I can tell from Bradley’s Noise he’s listening to me. “We have to find a way to make this world work together.”

“Ideals, my girl,” she says. “Always easier to believe in than live.”

“But if you don’t at least try to live them,” Bradley says, “then there’s no point in living at all.”

Mistress Coyle looks at him slyly. “Which is another ideal in itself.”

“Excuse me,” a woman says, approaching the ship. She looks nervously over all of us before settling her eyes on Mistress Coyle. “You’re the healer, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Mistress Coyle replies.

“She’s a healer,” I say. “One of many.”

“Can you help me?” the woman says.

And she pulls up her sleeve to reveal a band so infected it’s clear even to me that she’s already lost her arm.

[TODD]

“They kept coming through the night,” Viola says to me thru the comm. “There’s three times as many here now.”

“Same here,” I say.

It’s just before dawn, the day after Mr Shaw spoke to the Mayor, the day after townsfolk started showing up on Viola’s hill, too, and more keep popping up everywhere. Tho it’s mostly men in town and mostly women up on the hill. Not all, but mostly.

“So the Mayor gets what he wants,” Viola sighs, and even on the small screen I can see how pale she still looks. “Men and women separated.”

“You all right?” I ask.

“I’m okay,” she says a bit too quick. “I’ll call you later, Todd. Busy day ahead.”

We hang up and I come outta my tent and find the Mayor already waiting for me with two cups of coffee. He holds one out. After a second, I take it. We both stand there drinking, trying to get some warmth inside of us as the sky gets pinker. Even at this hour, there are some lights on where the Mayor’s men got power running into some of the bigger buildings so the townsfolk could gather in warmth.

The Mayor’s eyes are on the Spackle hilltop, like always, still in the dark half of the sky, still hiding an unseen army behind itself. And I realize that just right now, just for these few minutes while the Mayor’s army sleeps, you can hear something besides their sleeping ROAR, something faint and in the distance.

The Spackle got a ROAR, too.

“Their voice,” the Mayor says. “And I really do think it’s one big voice, evolved to fit this world perfectly, connecting them all.” He sips his coffee. “You can hear it sometimes on quiet nights. All those individuals, speaking as one. Like the voice of this whole world, right inside your head.”

He keeps staring at the hill in a kinda spooky way, so I ask, “Yer spies ain’t heard ’em planning nothing?”

He takes another drink but don’t answer me.

“They can’t get close, can they?” I say. “Else they’ll hear our plans.”

“That’s the nub of it, Todd.”

“Mr O’Hare and Mr Tate don’t got Noise.”

“I’m already down two captains,” he says. “I can’t spare any more.”

“Well, you didn’t really burn all the cure, did you? Just give it to yer spies.”

He don’t say nothing.

“You didn’t,” I say, then I realize. “You did.”

He still don’t say nothing.

“Why?” I ask, looking round at the soldiers nearby. The ROAR is already getting louder now as they wake. “The Spackle can sure hear us. You coulda had an advantage–”

“I have other advantages,” he says. “Besides, there may be another among us soon who could be most useful in regards to spying.”

I frown. “I ain’t never gonna work for you,” I say. “Not never.”