Blightcross: A Novel (20 page)

“You hit like a girl.”

“Thank you.”

He lunged again, his form eclipsing the glowing strands of pouring metal beyond the ring. She dropped to the ground on her elbows and hoisted herself up to kick him, and he flew into the spectators. But this time, instead of waiting for him to come again, she flew at Laik and rammed her knee into his rib cage.

The crack of his bones sent a chill through her, but also a childish satisfaction.

Now his face gleamed red, and he clasped his hands together and smashed her in the jaw. “I don't know what you think you're getting here, slut, but you will regret it.”

Her vision filled with a sparkling blizzard. The next instant, his bulk flashed into view and pinned her shoulders.

Now the men hooted, as if they had never seen a real fight between members of the opposite sex. He chortled and punched her.

Crack.

Crack.

A delicate note of blood on the back of her tongue.

He paused. “You must be mad, woman.”

Crack
.

She caught his hand. “Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“Sevari's collection. That's all I want to know.”

Her arm began to shake. “What do you want with Sevari's bizarre obsessions?” As if offended even by her choice of transgressions, he bared his teeth and grabbed her throat. “You make no sense to me. You come here to hide from someone, try to best me, and all because you want some worthless scribbles and sculptures?”

She choked and sputtered. Blackness encroached on her vision. Her hands flailed, and she instinctively went for the hidden switchblade. She manoeuvred the blade against his belly, jabbed him just enough to make him stop.

Laik looked down. His maniac grin softened. “You're a cheat, too.”

“I know what you do here. I heard it all. I have no idea how corrupt your bureaucracy is, but I know that the women are far too timid to tell anyone, on the off chance that rape and assault against a worker is actually legal in this godforsaken pit.”

“You can't prove anything.”

“Do you want to take that chance? There are ways. Suppose they interrogate you with truth serum. There are many ways to catch scum like you.” She pushed the blade harder. “And the only reason you are still here is because they are too afraid to talk.”

“You still cannot prove anything. And you are guilty of more crimes than I am.”

It was true... it sickened her to hear it, but she knew every bit of it was the truth.

“Jorassian? What are you waiting for?”

They had nothing. They lived in huts, they lived in the harshest, most undesirable areas of the new Valoii homeland. Their eyes showed fright—never mind that they also blazed with vihs. It was the Ehzeri equivalent to flinching, and you do not answer a flinch with a volley of phosphorus grenades...

She gritted her teeth and felt the knife dig into Laik's flesh. “Forget it. This ends now, and you give me what I want, or I kill you.”

There was a silence, as if the crowd had heard the remark. Laik's thick arms relaxed for an instant, and Capra struck him with her elbow. She then pressed the knife against his throat.

“So you...” He licked his lips and stuttered. “So you cared nothing for those women, then? I will keep doing as I please if you leave this place to find your treasures. You would be willing to let me continue to do that, if I just gave you what you wanted? Is that right?”

“You sheepfucking bastard...”

“You've done it dozens of times before, Jorassian. Move out!”

It wasn't right.

But that kind of recognition is meaningless when you do it anyway.

“Yes. Come on, slit my throat, you cunt. Answer to the Corps, answer to Sevari's expert torture surgeons—you won't make it two steps from my body. I am sure they can show you the stupid mystical garbage you risk your life for from the comfort of a spiked mattress.”

So killing him was out of the question.

“How many have you killed? Hm? Just for a few pistres? Did you pose as the nanny and fuck the overworked father and take him for all he was worth, then kill him? Things like that?”

She wanted to tell him the truth—that she had killed no one since leaving the army, but decided not to downplay herself. “Where is it?”

“Really? You are that shallow? These poor abused women mean nothing to you?”

She swallowed hard. “I am no good to them as your slave or hunted by Sevari.”

“If that makes you feel better about yourself...”

She pressed the blade into his skin, watched a sliver of blood creep from his skin. She then released him and skittered back. “It's over.”

The group's voices rumbled again. From what she gathered during her jostling through them, half were impressed with her and made fun of Laik, the other half thought she was a diseased, disturbed woman and that Laik ought to have finished her.

The factory seemed to spin, and her sight was still blurred. As soon as she hit the wall of sewage reek in the lavatory, she made a mad sprint for the pot she had just cleaned.

“Capra?”

It was Tey.

“Concussion. I'll be okay.” Another nauseous wave came, and she was reminded of her experience aboard the flying boat.

The stall darkened, and Capra assumed it was just Tey coming to her aid anyway. “Really, Tey, just one more and I think it'll be done.” Another flood of bile in her mouth—

“I know a man who works at the Pavilion of Machines just outside of Redsands.” Deep and gravelly, gravelly like her own voice at the moment.

She wiped her mouth and turned around. Once she realized that it was Laik, she reached for her knife again.

“Relax. I am an honourable man, Capra.” There were a few seconds of a strange silence. “This man designed and maintains the mechanical fire giant at the pavilion. He talks a lot, if you catch my drift. His name is Tilas Feyerbik.” Laik's eyes darted around the room.

“Laik, I...”

“Get out of here. Say nothing about me, the information I gave you, or your overblown accusations. Take the back way out. I have arranged for the guards there to be indisposed for the next while.”

“You're scum, and suddenly you become this noble gentleman?”

He shook his head. “Unwritten codes. Perhaps your society is too honest with itself.”

“Men like you are respected, while the real men are ridiculed and singled out?”

“Get out. You have your information. Your eyes are clearing up—I didn't hit you hard enough to send you to the surgery. That is not our intent when we fight.”

“I don't believe that. Not for a second.”

“I never asked you to.”

Never one to question when things turned in her favour, she shoved past him and found Tey wrestling with a handcart whose wheels squealed under a load of cracked parts. Tey stopped and looked mortified after she saw Capra's face.

“Oh no, you look like you've been through the ringer. What happened?”

Capra touched one of the cuts on her jaw. “Nothing, really. Look, Tey... I have to go.” She thought of the day she had left the army. At least she barely knew Tey, and they had little in common.

“So soon? Why?”

“Just... for a while. I promise to come back.” Though her voice said otherwise, and Tey didn't appear to buy it either.

“But where are you going?” Tey's eyes brightened. “Found whatever you were looking for?”

Capra slid her hand through her damp hair. “Get out of here, Tey.”

“What?”

“This city. Get out. Go north, to the resorts.”

“But they pay much less there.”

“This place takes more than it gives, Tey. You have to realize that.”

Tey scoffed at the comment and waved. “Sure, for a petty middle-class woman like yourself. But I know what the real world is like.”

The woman's insight surprised Capra. Perhaps she should have kept quiet. She hurried past the lake of molten metal and through the metal-grated halls to the side exit, just as Laik had told her. For once, she took his words at face value. His voice had dripped with resignation, and she knew it wasn't a trick.

Victory? The voice of a beaten man?

Dannac would say: “It had nothing to do with you challenging the little order they have in the factory. It had everything to do with your incessant nattering and stubbornness. Some people can only handle so much insistence that Capra knows all.”

The monotonous road out of the Redsands area only made her relive the past two days. Tey would be okay. It was incredibly self-absorbed to think that everyone she left behind would suffer from her absence.

Wasn't it?

Raid after raid, Alim became more weary of the ridiculous rumours that wasted his time.

I saw her at a bistro, serving shalep.

She's my next-door neighbour. Very noisy at night, you see. I would love for you to remove her.

Part of the problem was that there were so many Ehzeri here, and to the Blightcross natives, Capra's olive skin and dark eyes belonged to the entire immigrant population. They would describe her vaguely, and of course sneer at the mention of what they thought was a “big nose”. Alim began to wonder if these people saw others as caricatures, as if under some bizarre hex.

He paced in Sevari's office alone, waiting for the Leader to return. The old-style, arched window let in the city's dusty light, and from here Alim traced the pipeline; massive cords of sinew stretching far into the desert. Parts of it disappeared under the sand and emerged miles away, like stitching.

“Alim,” Sevari said, heading for his big leather chair. “How goes it?”

“You're late.”

“More paranoia among the workers. Bodies, bodies... You know how it is. Everyone thinks they're going to be next, as if the entire universe is out to get them.”

Alim thought to ask about these strange murders, but Sevari's casualness meant it was probably best not to ask. Accusing the man of murder, or at least being complicit by inaction, would do little to help the situation. “Your intelligence section has given me a few reports. I have followed up on many of them.”

“And?”

“Capra is nowhere to be found. I believe she split up with her partner, and I want to get to her while she is vulnerable. Without that man protecting her, I can take her easily. But your troops seem to have more paranoia and imagination than investigative skill.”

Sevari frowned and scribbled madly on a slip of paper. “I think your nation's training might be more to blame. This is the monster your people have created. An army of strictly volunteer soldiers is the only way. There is something to be said for creating an army strong enough to destroy one's enemies, but not so well trained that they can become a liability.”

“They do not train us to be liars. I think Capra came into that on her own.” He held back his defence of Mizkov's policies. People outside did not understand, and they never would. “There's one report I do have at least some faith in.” He dropped the pages onto the desk.

Sevari glanced over them. “You think she is in Redsands?”

“Not any longer. This is just third-hand, and I'd rather not waste my time pursuing that aspect. But read more.”

There was a silence while Sevari skimmed the pages. “Working for Helverliss? What on earth for?”

“What I have learned is that Capra is attracted to romantic figures. In the Little Nations, she engaged in a short and furious tryst with one of the continent's most famous composers. She is selfish and craves excitement, but is not reckless enough to take pleasure in her military duties. I imagine she felt pity for Helverliss, and sees him as some kind of martyr.”

“And your point in all of this?”

“I came here, Leader, to request your permission to arrest Noro Helverliss.”

Sevari laid the papers on the desk and folded his hands. “I have wanted to arrest that man ever since the Shield Party took power after the war. But one must learn from the mistakes of Tamarck.”

“Sir?”

“Of appearing to be a ruthless tyrant. People tend to get uneasy when you start arresting popular men like Helverliss. And, I will give Helverliss one bit of credit: in his philosophical ramblings, he mentions that engaging opposing ideas in such a way will only bring me closer to my own negation.”

Alim stared blankly.

“Let Helverliss be, that has always been my strategy. Keep an eye on him, yes, and do not allow him to possess power, but otherwise, I will hurt myself by giving his supporters more reason to hate my government.”

A buzzing sounded behind the desk. Sevari grumbled and pressed a stud on the panel, and in walked one of his assistants. “Just a minute, Alim.”

He took this as his cue to stand and give them space, so he went to the window and watched one of the flying boats circle above the city.

A moment later, Sevari joined him at the window box. “It seems that dissent is in the air these days. I wonder if your rogue soldier hasn't brought some mysterious disease with her that causes this madness.”

“Sir?”

“My best researcher has disappeared. I can only assume because she was scared.”

“Vasi? The one who set up the failed trap?”

Sevari nodded slowly. The stupid man showed no indication of seeing the connection. It could be misplaced optimism, but it seemed obvious. Vasi might have been helping Capra all along. The two events had to be related. And it made more sense—all reports about Dannac stated that he had showed no
vihs
capacity—his father had squandered it all. Vasi must have saved them from his trap. But why?

What could make an Ehzeri even think twice about sending a Valoii to a prison?

“How powerful was this girl?” Alim asked.

“Quite. She is highly sensitive to
vihs
. She's my main researcher for
Akhli and the Shadows
. Nobody else has even been able to look at the damned thing, let alone analyze it and isolate its power.”