Monsters of Men

“You already have worked for me, dear boy,” he says. “For several months, if I remember correctly.”

I can feel my temper rising right up but I stop cuz James has come over with the morning feedbag for Angharrad. “I’ll take it,” I say, setting down my coffee. He hands me the bag and I loop it gently round Angharrad’s head.

Boy colt? she asks.

“It’s okay,” I say, into her ears, stroking ’em with my fingers. “Eat, girl.” It takes another minute but then I start seeing her jaws work as she takes the first bites. “Attagirl,” I say.

James is still there, staring at me blankly, his hands still up from when he gave me the bag. “Thanks, James,” I say.

He still stands there, staring, not blinking, hands still up.

“I said, thanks.”

And then I hear it.

It’s hard to catch in the ROAR of everyone else’s Noise, even James’s, which is thinking about how he used to live upriver with his pa and his brother and how he joined the army when it marched past cuz it was either that or die fighting and now here he is, in a war with the Spackle, but he’s happy now, happy to be fighting, happy to be serving the President–

“Aren’t you, soldier?” says the Mayor, taking another sip of his coffee.

“I am,” James says, still not blinking. “Very happy.”

Cuz underneath it all lies the little vibrating buzz of the Mayor’s Noise, seeping into James’s, twining round it like a snake, pushing it into a shape that ain’t too disagreeable to James but still ain’t quite his own.

“You may go,” the Mayor says.

“Thank you, sir,” James blinks, dropping his hands. He gives me a funny little smile and then walks back into the thick of the camp.

“You can’t,” I say to the Mayor. “Not all of ’em. You said you just started being able to control people. That’s what you said.”

He don’t answer, just turns back up to the hill.

I stare at him, figuring it out some more. “But yer getting stronger,” I say. “And if they’re cured–”

“The cure turned out to mask everything,” he says. “It made them, shall we say, harder to reach. You need a lever to work a man. And Noise turns out to be a very good one.”

I look round us again. “But you don’t have to,” I say. “They’re already following you.”

“Well, yes, Todd, but that doesn’t mean they’re not open to suggestion. It can’t have escaped your attention how quickly they follow my orders in battle.”

“Yer working up to controlling a whole army,” I say. “A whole world.”

“You make it sound so sinister.” He smiles that smile. “I’d only ever use it for the good of us all.

And then there’s a sound behind us, fast footsteps. It’s Mr O’Hare, outta breath, his face blazing.

“They’ve attacked our spies,” he pants at the Mayor. “Only one man each returned from north and south. Obviously left so they could tell us what happened. The Spackle slaughtered the rest.”

The Mayor grimaces and turns back to the hilltop. “So,” he says. “That’s how they’re playing the game.”

“What’s that sposed to mean?” I say.

“Attacks from the northern road and the southern hills,” he says. “The first steps towards the inevitable.”

“The inevitable what?”

He raises his eyebrows. “They’re surrounding us, of course.”

{VIOLA}

Girl colt, Acorn greets me as I give him an apple I stole from the food tent. He stables in an area at the treeline where Wilf’s taken all the Answer’s animals.

“He giving you any trouble, Wilf?” I ask.

“Nah, ma’am,” Wilf says, attaching feedbags to a pair of oxes next to Acorn. Wilf, they say, while they eat. Wilf, Wilf.

Wilf, Acorn says, nudging in my pockets for another apple.

“Where’s Jane?” I ask, looking around.

“Helpin hand out food with the mistresses,” Wilf says.

“That sounds like Jane,” I say. “Listen, have you seen Simone? I need to talk to her.”

“She’s off huntin with Magnus. Ah heard Mistress Coyle suggestin it to her.”

Ever since the townsfolk started showing up, food has been our most pressing issue. Mistress Lawson, as usual, is in charge of inventory and has set up regular food chains to feed the people who are arriving, but the Answer’s food stocks aren’t going to last for ever. Magnus has been leading hunting parties to supplement it.

Mistress Coyle, meanwhile, has been deep in the medical tents, working on women with infected arms. There’s been a huge variation in how bad they are. Some of the women are so sick they’re barely able to stand; for others it’s nothing more than a bad rash. It does seem to affect every woman somehow, though. Todd says the Mayor’s giving medical help to the few women down there, too, all concerned now about the bands he put there, saying he’ll do whatever it takes to help them, not having intended this at all.

It’s enough to make me feel even sicker.

“I must have been in the healing room when she left,” I say, feeling the burning in my arm, wondering if my fever’s back again. “I guess it’ll have to be Bradley then.”

I head off back to the scout ship, but I hear Wilf say, “Good luck” as I go.

I listen out for Bradley’s Noise, still louder than any other man here, until I find his feet sticking out of a section on the front of the ship, a panel laying on the ground and tools everywhere.

Engine, he’s thinking. Engine and war and missile and food shortage and Simone won’t even look at me and Someone there?

“Someone there?” he asks, scooting his way out.

“Only me,” I say as he emerges.

Viola, he thinks. “Something I can help you with?” he says, way shorter than I’d like.

I tell him what Todd told me about the Spackle and the Mayor’s spies, about the Spackle maybe being on the move.

“I’ll see what I can do to make the probes more effective,” he sighs. He looks out at the camp that now completely surrounds the scout ship, out to all sides of the clearing, with other makeshift tents up beyond the line of trees, too. “We have to protect them now,” he says. “It’s our duty, now that we’ve upped the stakes.”

“I’m sorry, Bradley,” I say. “I couldn’t have done any other thing.”