“Leave us alone,” I hear Todd say. “Now.”
There’s a pause and then the Mayor says, “Very well, Todd. I’ll be over here if you need me.”
I look up at Todd as the Mayor leaves. “If you need me?”
Todd shrugs. “He coulda just let me die. It woulda made things easier for him if I wasn’t hanging around. But he didn’t. He saved me.”
“He’ll have a reason,” I say. “And not a good one.”
Todd doesn’t answer, just takes a long look at the Mayor, who’s talking to his men but watching us, too.
“Your Noise is still hard to read,” I say. “Even more than before.”
Todd’s eyes don’t quite meet mine. “It was the battle,” he says. “All that screaming–”
And I hear something, deep in his Noise, something about a circle–
“But are you okay?” he asks. “You don’t look good, Viola.”
And now I’m the one who turns away, and I realize I’m unconsciously pulling my sleeve down. “Lack of sleep,” I say.
But it’s a weird moment, like there’s something not quite truthful hanging in the air for both of us.
I reach into my bag. “Take this,” I say, handing him my comm. “To replace yours. I’ll get a new one when I get back.”
He looks surprised. “Yer going back?”
“I have to. It’s full-out war now and it’s my fault. I’m the one who fired that missile. I have to make it right–”
And I get upset again because I keep seeing it in my mind. Todd safe in the viewscreen, not dead after all, and the army getting out of range of the spinning fires.
The attack was over.
And I fired anyway.
And dragged Simone and Bradley and the whole convoy into war, one that might now be ten times worse.
“I’d have done the same, Viola,” Todd says, one more time.
And I know he’s saying nothing but the truth.
But as he hugs me again before I leave, I can’t help but think it over and over.
If this is what Todd and I would do for each other, does that make us right?
Or does it make us dangerous?
[TODD]
The days that follow are kinda scarily quiet.
A night and a day and another night pass after the spinning fire attack and nothing happens. Nothing from the Spackle up the hill, even tho we can still see their campfires glowing in the night. Nothing from the scout ship neither. Viola’s told them all about what kinda man the Mayor is. They’ll wait till he comes to them, I guess, and send whatever messages thru me. The Mayor don’t seem in no hurry. Why should he? He got what he wanted without even having to ask.
In the meantime, he’s placed a heavy guard around New Prentisstown’s one big water tank on a side street just off the square. He’s also had soldiers start to gather up the town’s food and put it into an old stable next to the tank to make a foodstore. All under his control, of course, and at the edge of his new camp.
Also in the square.
I’d have thought he’d take over nearby houses, but he said he preferred a tent and a fire, saying it felt more like proper war out in the open with the army’s Noise ROARing its way around him. He even took one of Mr Tate’s uniforms and had it fixed for himself so he was a spiffy new general again.
But he also had a tent set up for me across from him and the captains. Like I was one of his important men. Like I was worth the life he came back to save. He even put in a cot for me to sleep on, to finally sleep on after being awake thru two straight days of battle. It seemed almost embarrassing to sleep, and practically impossible to do in the middle of a war. But I was so tired I slept anyway.
And dreamed of her.
Dreamed of when she came looking for me after the blast and how I held her when she got upset and how her hair stank a little and her clothes were sweaty and how she somehow felt both hot and cold, but it was her, it was her in my arms–
“Viola,” I say, waking up again, my breath clouding in the cold.
I breathe heavy for a second or two, then get up and outta my tent. I head straight over to Angharrad and press my face against her warm horsey side.
“Morning,” I hear.
I look up. The young soldier who’s been bringing Angharrad fodder since we set up camp has arrived with her early feed.
“Morning,” I say back.
He’s not quite looking at me, older than me but shy of me anyway. He puts a feedbag on Angharrad and another on Juliet’s Joy, Mr Morgan’s horse who the Mayor took now that Morpeth’s gone, a bossy mare who snarls at everything that passes by.
Submit! she says to the soldier.
“Submit yerself,” I hear him mumble. I chuckle cuz that’s what I say to her, too.
I stroke Angharrad’s flank, retying her blanket so she’ll be warm enough. Boy colt, she says. Boy colt.
She still ain’t right. She barely raises her head no more and I ain’t even tried to ride her since we got back into the city. But she’s talking again at least. And her Noise has stopped screaming.
Screaming about war.
I close my eyes.
(I am the Circle and the Circle is me, I think, light as a feather–)
(cuz you can silence yer Noise for yerself, too–)
(silence the screaming, silence the dying–)
(silence all that you saw that you don’t wanna see again–)
(and that hum still in the background, felt rather than heard–)
“You think something’s gonna happen soon?” the soldier asks.
I open my eyes. “If nothing ain’t happening,” I say, “nobody ain’t dying.”
He nods and looks away. “James,” he says, and thru his Noise I can see he’s telling me his name with a kinda hopeful friendliness, from someone whose friends are all dead.
“Todd,” I say.
He catches my eye for a second and then looks behind me and dashes away to whatever his next job is.
Cuz the Mayor’s coming outta his tent.
“Good morning, Todd,” he says, stretching his arms.
“What’s good about it?”
He just smiles his stupid smile. “I know waiting is difficult. Especially under the threat of a river that would drown us.”
“Why don’t we just leave then?” I say. “Viola told me once there were old settlements at the ocean, we could regroup there and–”
“Because this is my city, Todd,” he says, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the fire. “And leaving it would mean they win. It’s how this game is played. They won’t release the river because we’ll fire more missiles. And so everyone will find another way to fight the war.”