She’s already shaking her head. “There’s nothing we can do for him right now–”
“He’ll kill him.”
She looks at me, not without pity. “He’s probably dead already, my girl.”
I feel my throat closing up but I fight it. “You don’t know that.”
“If he’s not dead, then he must have told the President voluntarily.” She cocks her head. “Which would you rather be true?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “No–”
“I’m sorry, my girl.” Her voice is a little calmer than before, a little softer, but still strong. “I truly am, but there are thousands of lives at stake. And like it or not, you’ve picked a side.” She looks over to where Lee stands. “So why don’t you let me show you your army?”
[TODD]
“Bitches,” Mr. Hammar says from atop his horse.
“Your analysis was not asked for, Sergeant,” says the Mayor, riding Morpeth thru the smoke and the twisted metal.
“They’ve left the mark, tho,” Mr. Hammar says, pointing at the trunk of a large tree at the edge of the clearing.
The blue A of the Answer is smeared across it.
“Your concern for my eyesight does you credit,” says the Mayor, sharply enough that even Mr. Hammar shuts up.
We rode up here straight from the monastery, meeting Mr. Hammar’s squadron coming up the hill, looking ready for battle. When we got to the top, we found Ivan and the soldiers who were meant to be guarding the tower. Ivan got promoted here, I guess, after all the Spackle were rounded up, but now he’s looking like he wishes he never heard of a tower.
Cuz it ain’t here no more. It’s just a heap of smoking metal, mostly in a long line where it fell, like a drunk man tipping forward onto the ground and deciding to just stay there and sleep.
(and I do my damnedest not to think about her asking me how to get here)
(saying we should go here first)
(oh, Viola, you didn’t–)
“If they got enough to blow up something this big . . .” Davy says to my right, looking across the field. He don’t finish his sentence cuz it’s the same thing we’re all thinking, the thing that’s in everyone’s Noise.
Everyone that’s got Noise, that is, cuz Mr. Hammar seems to be one of the lucky ones. “Hey, boy,” he sneers at me. “You a man yet?”
“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be heading, Sergeant?” the Mayor asks, not looking at him.
“With haste, sir,” Mr. Hammar says again, giving me an evil wink, then spurring his horse and shouting for his men to follow. They speed down the hill in the fastest march I’ve seen, leaving us with Ivan and his soldiers, all of their Noise regretting to a man how they ran towards the monastery after hearing the tracer bomb hit.
It’s obvious, tho, when you look back. A smaller bomb in one place to get people running away from where you want to plant yer bigger bomb.
But what the hell were they doing bombing the monastery?
Why attack the Spackle?
Why attack me?
“Private Farrow,” the Mayor says to Ivan.
“It’s Corporal Farrow, actually–” Ivan says.
The Mayor turns his head slowly and Ivan stops talking as he comes to understand. “Private Farrow,” the Mayor says again. “You will salvage what metal and scrap you can and then report to your commanding officer to relinquish your supply of cure–”
He stops. We can all hear Ivan’s Noise clear as day. The Mayor looks round. Every soldier in the squadron has Noise. Every one of ’em’s already been punished for one thing or another.
“You will submit yourselves to your commanding officer for appropriate punishment.”
Ivan don’t reply but his Noise rumbles.
“Is something unclear, Private?” the Mayor says, his voice dangerously bright. He looks into Ivan’s eyes, holding his gaze. “You will submit yourselves to your commanding officer for appropriate punishment,” he says again, but there’s something in his voice, some weird vibrayshun.
I look at Ivan. His eyes are going foggy, unfocused, his mouth a little slack. “I will submit to my commanding officer for appropriate punishment,” he says.
“Good,” the Mayor says, looking back at the wreckage.
Ivan slumps a little when the eye contact is broken, blinking as if he’s just woken up, forehead furrowing.
“But, sir,” he says to the Mayor’s back.
The Mayor turns round again, looking very surprised at still being spoken to.
Ivan presses on. “We were coming to your aid when–”
The Mayor’s eyes flash. “When the Answer watched you do exactly what it wanted you to do and then blew up my tower.”
“But, sir–”
Without changing his expresshun, the Mayor pulls out a pistol from his holster and shoots Ivan in the leg.
Ivan tumbles over, wailing. The Mayor looks at the other soldiers.
“Anyone else care to contribute before you get to work?”
As the rest of the soldiers ignore Ivan’s screams and start clearing up the wreckage, the Mayor moves Morpeth right in front of that A, loud and clear like the announcement it is. “The Answer,” he says, in a low voice like he’s talking to himself. “The Answer.”
“Let us go after ’em, Pa,” Davy says.
“Hmm?” The Mayor turns his head slowly, like he forgot we were there.
“We can fight,” Davy says. “We proved that. And instead you got us babysitting animals that are already beat.”
The Mayor considers us for a minute, tho I don’t know how or when Davy turned him and me into an us. “If you think they’re already beaten, David,” he finally says, “then you know very little about the Spackle.”
Davy’s Noise ruffles a little. “I think I’ve learnt a thing or two by now.”
And as much as I hate to, I have to agree with him.
“Yes,” says the Mayor. “I suppose you have. Both of you.” He looks me in the eye and I can’t help thinking of me saving 1017 from the bomb, risking my own life to get him outta the way.
And him biting and scratching me by way of thanks.
“Then how about a new project?” the Mayor says, steering Morpeth over to us. “One where you can put all your expertise to work.”
Davy’s Noise ain’t sure of this. There’s pride but doubt, too.
All I got in mine is dread.