Monsters of Men

“I’m hardly just anyone else, Todd.”

You can say that again, I think, to see if he hears it.

“But you’re quite right,” he says, pulling Juliet’s Joy by the reins. “You’ve done exceptionally well. You’ve picked it up far faster than any of my captains did. Who knows what you’ll ultimately be capable of?”

And he gives me a grin that’s almost proud.

The sun ain’t yet risen down at the end of the road in the direkshun we’re headed, just a vague pinkness in the sky. The Mayor insisted we get there first, insisted we be the ones waiting for ’em when they showed up.

Me and him and the company of men following us.

We reach the two barns that mark the turning to the house of healing and head down it towards the empty river. The sky is still mostly dark as we come round a bend and see it.

It ain’t what we expected. Instead of a house of healing where we could go inside and have our meeting, it’s just a charred wooden frame, its roof missing and burnt debris strewn across the front lawn. At first I think the Spackle musta burnt it down, but then I remember the Answer blew up everything as it marched on the town, even its own buildings. It musta helped that the Mayor had turned it into a jail and not a place where you’d ever really want to be healed any more.

The other thing that ain’t expected is that they’re already here, waiting for us on the drive. Viola’s on Acorn, off to one side of an ox-pulled cart with a dark-skinned man and a solid-looking woman who can only be Mistress Coyle. The Mayor wasn’t the only one who wanted to get here first.

I feel him bristle beside me but he hides it fast as we stop, facing them. “Good morning,” he says. “Viola, I know, and of course the famous Mistress Coyle, but I don’t believe I have the pleasure of the gentleman’s acquaintance.”

“We’ve got armed women in the trees,” Viola says before she even says hello.

“Viola!” says Mistress Coyle.

“We’ve got fifty men down the road,” I say. “He says we’re sposed to say it’s for proteckshun against the Spackle.”

Viola nods at Mistress Coyle. “She just said we were supposed to lie.”

“Which would be difficult,” the Mayor says, “because I can see them clearly in the gentleman’s Noise, to whom, I repeat, I have not been introduced.”

“Bradley Tench,” the man says.

“President David Prentiss,” the Mayor says. “At your service.”

“And you can only be Todd,” Mistress Coyle says.

“And you can only be the one who tried to kill me and Viola,” I say, holding her gaze.

She just smiles back. “I don’t think I’m the only person here this morning guilty of that.”

She’s smaller than I expected. Or maybe I’m just bigger. After all Viola said she’s done, leading armies, blowing up half the city, putting herself in place to be the next leader of the town, I expected a giant. She’s stocky, sure, like a lotta people on this planet, it’s how you look if you have to work for a living. But then there’s her eyes and they look at you and don’t brook no arguments, don’t look like they ever doubt themselves, even when they should. Maybe they’re the eyes of a giant after all.

I ride Angharrad over to Acorn so I can properly greet Viola, already feeling that warm rush I get whenever I see her but also seeing how sick she’s looking, how pale and–

She’s looking back at me, puzzled, her head tilted.

And I realize she’s trying to read me.

And she can’t.

{VIOLA}

I stare at Todd. Looking at him and looking at him.

And not hearing him.

At all.

I thought it was just horrors from the war, traumatizing him, shocking him into blurriness, but this is different. This is nearly silence.

This is like the Mayor.

“Viola?” he whispers.

“I understood there was to be fourth member of your party?” the Mayor asks.

“Simone decided to stay with the ship,” Bradley says, and even though I’m not taking my eyes off Todd, I can hear his Noise is full of Ivan and the others, who threatened outright violence if we left them unable to protect themselves. Simone finally had to agree to stay behind. Bradley’s the one who should have, of course, his Noise blaring out every second, but the hilltop folk, led by Ivan, weren’t going to stand being protected by the Humanitarian.

“Most unfortunate,” the Mayor says. “The townsfolk are obviously hungering for strong leadership.”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” Bradley says.

“And so here we are,” the Mayor says. “At a meeting that will set the course for this world.”

“Here we are,” Mistress Coyle agrees, “so let’s get started, shall we?”

And then she speaks and her words are enough to even make me stop looking at Todd.

“You are a criminal and a murderer,” she says to the Mayor, her voice calm as a stone. “You committed a genocide of the Spackle that brought this war on us. You imprisoned, enslaved and then permanently marked every woman you could get your hands on. You have proven powerless to stop the Spackle attacks which have cost you half your army, and it can only be a matter of time before they rise up against your leadership and decide instead to rally around the superior firepower of the scout ship, at the very least to survive the remaining weeks until the convoy of settlers arrives.”

She smiles through this whole speech, despite how Bradley and I are looking at her, how Todd is looking at her–

But then I see the Mayor’s smiling, too.

“So, why, exactly,” Mistress Coyle says, “shouldn’t we just sit back and let you self-destruct?”

[TODD]

“You,” the Mayor says back to Mistress Coyle, after a long, silent minute, “are a criminal and a terrorist. Rather than work with me to make New Prentisstown a welcoming paradise for the incoming settlers, you instead tried to blow it up, deciding you would rather see it destroyed than let it be something you didn’t choose yourself. You killed soldiers and innocent townsfolk, including an attempt on the life of young Viola here, seeking only to overthrow me so you could set yourself up as unchallenged ruler of some new Coyleville.” He nods at Bradley. “The scout ship crew are clearly only supporting you reluctantly, after you no doubt manipulated Viola into firing that missile. And how many weapons do they have after all? Enough to defeat a hundred thousand, a million Spackle who will come in wave after wave until all of us are dead? You, Mistress, have as much to answer for as I do.”