“You’re going to what, dear boy?” the Mayor says, riding thru the entrance on Morpeth. “I can hear you two arguing from out on the road.” He turns his gaze to Davy. “And arguing is not working.”
“Oh, I got ’em working, Pa,” Davy says, nodding out to the fields.
And it’s true. Me and the Spackle are all separated into teams of ten or twenty, spread out among the whole enclosed bit of the monastery, removing stones from the low internal walls and pulling up the sod in the fields. Others are piling the dug-up dirt in other fields and my group here near the front have already dug parts of the trenches for the foundayshuns of the first building. I’ve got a shovel. The Spackle have to use their hands.
“Not bad,” the Mayor says. “Not bad at all.”
Davy’s Noise is so pleased it’s embarrassing. Nobody looks at him.
“And you, Todd?” The Mayor turns to me. “How is your morning progressing?”
“Please don’t hurt her,” I say.
“Please don’t hurt her,” Davy mocks.
“For the last time, Todd,” the Mayor says, “I’m not going to hurt her. I’m just going to talk with her. In fact, I’m on my way to speak with her right now.”
My heart jumps and my Noise raises.
“Oh, he don’t like that, Pa,” Davy says.
“Hush,” the Mayor says. “Todd, is there anything you’d like to tell me that might make my visit with her go more quickly, more pleasantly for everyone?”
I swallow.
And the Mayor’s just staring at me, staring into my Noise, and words form in my brain, PLEASE DON’T HURT HER said in my voice and his voice all twisted together, pressing down on the things I think, the things I know and it’s different from the Noise slap, this voice pokes around where I don’t want him, trying to open locked doors and turn over stones and shine lights where they shouldn’t never be shone and all the while saying PLEASE DON’T HURT HER and I can feel myself starting to want to tell (ocean), starting to want to unlock those doors (the ocean), starting to want to do just exactly what he says, cuz he’s right, he’s right about everything and who am I to resist–
“She don’t know nothing,” I say, my voice wobbly, almost gasping.
He arches an eyebrow. “You seem distressed, Todd.” He angles Morpeth to approach. Submit, Morpeth says. Davy watches the Mayor’s attenshuns on me and even from here I can hear him getting jealous. “Whenever my passions need calming, Todd, there’s something I like to do.”
He looks into my eyes.
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
Hatched right in the middle of my brain, like a worm in an apple.
“Reminds me who I am,” the Mayor says. “Reminds me of how I can control myself.”
“What does?” Davy says and I realize he’s not hearing it.
I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.
Again, right on the inside of me.
“What does it mean?” I almost gasp cuz it’s sitting so heavy in my brain I’m finding it hard to speak.
And then we hear it.
A whining in the air, a buzzing that ain’t Noise, a buzz more like a fat purple bee coming in to sting you.
“What the–?” Davy says.
And then we’re all turning, looking at the far end of the monastery, looking up over the heads of the soldiers along the top of the wall.
Buzzzz–
It’s in the sky, a shape making an arc, high and sharp, coming up thru some trees behind the monastery, trailing smoke behind it, but the buzzing is getting louder and the smoke is starting to thicken into black.
And then the Mayor pulls Viola’s binos out of his shirt pocket to get a closer look.
I stare at them, my Noise churning, slopping out with asking marks that he ignores.
Davy musta brought them back down the hill, too.
I clench my fists.
“Whatever it is,” Davy says, “it’s coming this way.”
I look back round. The thing has reached the high point of its arc and is heading back down to earth.
Down towards the monastery where we’re all standing.
Buzzzz–
“I’d get out of the way if I were you,” the Mayor says. “That’s a bomb.”
Davy runs so fast back to the gate he drops the whip. The soldiers on the wall start jumping off to the outside. The Mayor readies his horse but he don’t move yet, waiting to see where the bomb’s gonna land.
“Tracer,” he’s saying, his voice full of interest. “Antiquated, practically useless. We used them in the Spackle War.”
The buzzzzzz is getting louder. The bomb’s still falling, but picking up speed.
“Mayor Prentiss?”
“President,” he corrects but he’s still looking thru the binos almost like he’s hypnotized. “The sound and the smoke,” he says. “Far too obvious for covert use.”
“Mayor Prentiss!” My Noise is getting higher with nerves.
“The city’s all been bush bombs, so why–”
“RUN!” I yell.
Morpeth starts and the Mayor looks at me.
But I ain’t talking to him.
“RUN!” I’m yelling and waving my hands and the shovel at the Spackle nearest me, the Spackle in my field.
The field the bomb is heading right for.
Buzzzzz–
They don’t understand. Most of ’em are just watching the bomb coming right for them. “RUN!” I keep shouting and I’m sending explozhuns out in my Noise, showing ’em what’ll happen when that bomb lands, imagining blood and guts and the BOOM that’s on its way. “RUN, GODDAMMIT!”
It finally gets thru and some start to scatter, maybe just to get away from me screaming and waving my shovel, but they run and I chase them further up the field. I look back. The Mayor’s moved to the entrance of the monastery, ready to ride further if necessary.
But he’s watching me.
“RUN!” I keep yelling, getting the Spackle to move up and away, fleeing from the centre of this field. The last few hop over the nearest internal wall and I hop over with ’em, gasping for breath and turning round again to watch it land–
And I see 1017, still there in the middle of the field, just staring up at the sky.
At the bomb that’s gonna kill him where he stands.
I’m jumping back over the internal wall before I even know it–
My feet pounding over the grass–
Leaping over the trenches we’ve dug–