When speaking of the Gharic lands, it is common to hear n cite the extre difficulty in governing a conquered populace. A people are naturally inclined to chafe under foreign rule; indeed, our own example illustrates how a society may foster determination and will sufficient to span the gap of centuries. The imdiate question that follows is obvious: are we not condemning ourselves to a repeat of our history in reverse, as the conquered Gharic peoples lie in wait for a ti of Safid laxity?
We would be, were we to commit the sa errors as Ghar did in our subjugation. The yoke of the emperor did not rest easily on us because we were made to feel our difference from that imperial state by dint of tax and whip, corve and famine.
The lesson is at once easy and impossible: do not rule over foreigners. Draw no lines between Gharic and Safid, accept any earnest man regardless of his ancestry. This is perhaps easier for us than it was for Ghar, as our faith compels us to display such magnanimity regardless of the practical benefits. Faith is the open door through which n beco Safid in truth, and it is the greatest of cris to allow prejudice to close that redeeming gate.
This is not to say that disruption to our rule should be tolerated; the hand that rules must always be iron. It will lose no strength in a velvet glove, however, and will exert itself far less.
- Saleh Taskin, On Reclamation, 687
The coast appeared in late morning, a dark sliver marring the horizon under the sun. Michael watched from the hold as the land drew closer, the tiny shapes of watercraft and buildings resolving themselves against the terrain. Stahm was not as large as Calmharbor, he rembered, but was nevertheless a sizable port city. It sat squat and dirty against the shore, vast docks and cranes huddled close against the water as ships approached to unload their wares.
He pulled his sight back to take in the n shifting restlessly in the hold. They had gathered belowdecks long before the shore ca into view so that Sobriquet could veil them within the smallest possible area.
Michael had no notion of where Sofia was currently, but it seed likely she was at her estate in Calmharbor. The risk of detection under Sobriquets veil was therefore not high, but until they knew better Michael had opted to take the conservative approach.
A great shudder went through the ship as they pulled close to the pier; shouting voices outside filtered down through the vents. The air in the hold thrumd with tension from the n.
Do you think theyll search us? Voss asked.
Zabala snorted. Even if they did, the harbormaster is scarcely going to have a man who can see through Sobriquets veil. Its just normal port operations, well be on our way before long.
Voss bit his lip and slouched against his pack, waiting. Michael indulged in watching the outside of the ship as Otto clomped out to pay his docking fees, leaving the ships doors and gates wide-open in his wake. A few monts later he had gone away to the harbormasters office, and with him went the majority of the n around the ship.
All right, Michael said. Lets go.
They moved quickly to disembark, though Sobriquet cautioned them to avoid stepping heavily on the pier. Michael moved within the bulk of their company, barely noticing his imdiate surroundings as he took in the harbor.
Sooty brickwork and faceless crowds dominated what he could see from the pier, people traveling to the fishmarket or about their business at the harborside shops. It was a normal day - disorientingly so for Michael, for it was indistinguishable from any of the waterfront streets in Calmharbor. The sights and slls pressed close around him, tickling his mory.
The stonework in Daressa was subtly different from Ardalt, he realized. The buildings tended to sit lower to the ground, lacking embellishnts at the crown of the facade. It was one of a hundred things he had never noticed, through inattention or lack of comparison; they all settled into place in his mind as it shouted incessantly that he was ho, ho, ho.
His heart began to beat faster, his skin flushing. Ho. The noise of carriage wheels over cobbles carried across the markets din, indistinguishable from the clatter of his fathers old carriage; he snapped his head towards the source of the noise, half expecting to see his father scowling at him through the carriage window-
But, no. They were many days travel from Calmharbor, he reminded himself, taking a slow, deliberate breath. His father had no idea he was here. Even if he had, Michael had no more to fear from his fathers soul. What Sever had failed to destroy would certainly not fall to Karl Baumgart.
He allowed himself a small smile at that, lifting his eyes - and freezing as his fathers face stared back at him. The cold eyes, the sneer - they pierced through him in an icy rush, leaving his heart thudding with wild abandon against his ribs, his mind racing.
The man behind him collided with Michael, giving a surprised grunt. Michael whirled and dropped to a half-crouch, Stanza flooding into him with its golden filigree; the others turned to look at him-
Michael shut his eyes and clenched his fists as his mind caught up with his unthinking reaction. He opened them again, slowly, so that he could see the poster with his fathers face. There was more than one, at second glance, a neat row of posters all glaring out with that hateful face stamped upon them.
Sobriquet was the first to follow his gaze; Michael felt a quick ripple of feeling burst from her before her eyes ca back to him; she stepped forward to gently lay her hand on his shoulder.
Thats him? she asked.
Michael nodded, not taking his eyes away from the posters. Thats him, he confird, speaking deliberately; he was not confident in the steadiness of his voice. Hes doing well for himself.
He looks like an ass, Sobriquet muttered.
Ive been told I resemble him sowhat, Michael said.
She nudged him. I said what I said. Her fingers curled through his. We should keep moving.
Michael gave quiet assent, letting Sobriquet lead him on a clear path through the docks where their band wouldnt disrupt the throngs of people choking the quay. The n followed in their wake, but Michaels vision stayed fixed forward, never turning towards the glares that hung stubbornly in the corner of his vision. He felt the heat of it, like standing next to a forge; it was only when they turned down a side alley and found themselves standing in a disused lot that he felt his breathing return to normal.
Sobriquet looked at him, a wordless question in her eyes. Michael nodded thankfully back - paused, then nodded again. Im fine, he said. Were fine. Everyone make it through okay?
There was a muttered chorus of acknowledgnts and affirmatives from the group.
Good, he said. Were going to be staying close together while were here, at least until we know where Sibyl is at. If we get confirmation shes in Calmharbor we can relax a bit - Sera?
Sobriquet nodded. She shouldnt be able to see a blind spot easily from Calmharbor to Stahm, based on what I know of her, she said. We can probably risk any of the n but Unai and Zabala walking unveiled for a ti. You and I need to stay veiled at all tis, of course.
She turned to look around the tight confines of the lot, buildings growing up around them in sooty, dark silence. I didnt notice any sign of Luc as we ca away from the port, but that doesnt an much - its a busy city, and who knows if this is the port he landed at.
Its the major port on this coast, Unai said, scratching at his jaw thoughtfully. The surroundings at least bear investigation. In port cities I expect the doctors are familiar with the signs of fishrot; well want to look to see if there have been any unusually severe cases.
Michael frowned. That might be difficult. The only licensed anatontes and physicians are with the Institute. There are others, but its not as though theres a central directory for us to check.
I know a few places we could check, Voss said hesitantly. Im from Stahm, I worked as a Freezer for a few years before I enlisted. Theres a clinic just north of the market, for a start - thats where most of the dockworkers would go for injuries and the like. He paused and flushed, seeming to realize that he was the focus of attention. Cant say for fishrot. Everyone knows doctors cant do nothing for it, so most dont waste their money.
Zabalas head ca up. You have to pay? he asked, scandalized. What about public clinics?
Unai shook his head. No public clinics in Ardalt, at least none that Im aware of. He and Zabala exchanged a look; the younger man turned away grumbling sothing in ndiko.
That sounds like a decent enough place to start, Michael said. Thanks, Voss. Can you lead us there?
Been a few years, the Freezer mumbled. But sure, it was up the Fischmarktallee He began to walk uncertainly down the street, his movents growing more sure as they turned onto a broader boulevard.
Their group clumped together, weaving through the free areas in traffic with so difficulty; Stahm was not a calm city, and the days business was beginning in earnest. But while the people on the street increased in number, there was an odd silence to the crowd. The normal chatter of friends eting in the street was subdued, the cries of street vendors all but absent.
Michael stretched out hesitantly with Spark, tasting the air. It carried the familiar taint of fear, though a duller and quieter species of it than he usually encountered. This was not a battlefield fear, nor the uneasy quiet of those forced into close quarters with him. It was familiar even so, though it took him a while to realize why.
It was his own fear, the fear of a boy trapped in a house with a violent and dangerous man, writ large onto the streets and avenues of Stahm. People kept their eyes down, their mouths shut. Now that Michael knew it for what it was, he found it impossible to ignore.
Each of them was trying to avoid notice.
Michael walked a bit slower, dropping back to where Unai trailed the group. Had you heard anything more about my fathers efforts here? he said. The town seems - I dont know, beaten.
Ive been noticing that, Unai said grimly. And no, I havent heard much else. I can guess, however. He nodded towards where a group of won were walking quickly down the street, their eyes firmly fixed on the cobbles. Its no small thing to cow a populace this thoroughly. There have been arrests here, Id say, and not just a few. There are probably constabulary auditors lurking throughout the city. Spectors too, most likely. Even if Sibyl isnt here, we may not be able to rest easy.
Arrests for what? Michael asked.
Unai waved a hand. Doesnt matter. Saying the wrong thing. Seeming threatening. After the first disappearances, most of the people will govern their behavior to avoid doing anything they think will provoke a response - which is, of course, the entire point. The notional cris of those first few dont matter, although I imagine there were a few journalists and outspoken n of ans among their number.
Michael humd, feeling mildly nauseous as he looked around once more at the people on the street. Another row of his fathers posters stared balefully from across a boarded-up shopfront as they passed.
Before too long they found themselves turning down a side alley towards an unmarked door; Voss looked back at Michael for confirmation and, receiving it, rapped his knuckles sharply on the wood.
Free from the need to wait, Michael sent his sight inside. There were only a few rooms, one of which was full of listless patients on cots. The others were a storeroom and a small office, in which an older man sat hunched over a desk. He looked up irritably as Voss knocked again, though he made no move to rise from his seat.
Michael pulled his vision back and turned to Sobriquet. Hes in there, he muttered. Might need so encouragent to co to the door.
She grinned, then closed her eyes; a mont later there was a sharp yelp of surprise from inside the office. Footsteps sounded, and the door opened to reveal a short, fat man with a thin buzz of white hair glaring at them.
What? he snapped. Ive already told your friends where they can put their summons, Im not leaving my patients.
Voss looked confusedly back at Michael, who stepped forward. You have us confused with soone else, he said. We dont have any friends who would have stopped by here.
Pah, the doctor spat. Dont lie to . Who else cos knocking on my door with ensouled and soldiers, eh? Youre Institute, just like the rest.
Institute? Michael muttered. No, were - look at them, do they look like Institute n to you? Do I? Were just here on the trail of a - public health ergency, of sorts. Want to know if youve seen any strange cases of fishrot lately.
The doctors eyes narrowed. Fishrot? he asked suspiciously. Nobody cos here for fishrot. Cant treat it.
But have you heard of any odd cases? Michael asked. Fishrot, or perhaps intense burns.
There was a mont of silence; the doctors eyes narrowed further still. Fishrot and burns, eh? he said. Havent heard anything like that, no sir. Wouldnt tell you if I had. You and your thugs can go lean on soone else to find your little rogue lucigens-
I never said we were looking for a lucigens, Michael said, sowhat taken aback.
The old man surged up to stand in his face. As good as said it! he rasped. Or do you think Im an idiot, hm? Hmm? Burns and fishrot, burns and fishrot! What else could you be looking for? He made a disgusted gesture and turned away. Take your thugs and run back to whatever factory makes n like you, you useless fancy twat. I wish I did know where he was, Id derive that much more pleasure from not telling you. Off my doorstep!
The doctor huffed and turned back to slam the door; Michael slid his foot into the gap before it could shut. The doctor scowled and began slamming the door on his foot with gleeful abandon.
Unaffected, Michael leaned closer. We have two anatontes in our party, he said. Tell us anything youve heard, and well heal every patient in your office.
Liar, the doctor spat, still resolutely hamring the door into Michaels foot. Double liar, since you said you werent from the Institute - so which is it, hm? Not from the Institute, not an anatons? Because if you expect to believe- He paused, the door slipping from his hand; his eyes went round.
Michael turned to see Unai walking up behind him, holding his hand up so that the doctor could see the tree device stamped into his glove. Good evening, sir, Unai said smoothly. I can assure you that my friend here is telling the truth, and that we are not in any way affiliated with the Institute.
You - youre. The doctor shook his head. Youre all fucking crazy, is what you are. ndiko! Wandering around Stahm! Im surprised youre not all arrested, and along with you.
Hello, Sobriquet said sweetly, walking up to stand beside Michael. Im Sobriquet.
The doctor blinked, then scowled. Well, theres not enough space inside for the lot of you. The pretty girl can co in. And the ndiko.
And the fancy twat? Sobriquet asked innocently. Hes our other anatons.
The fuck he is, the doctor muttered. Fine. Pretty girl, ndiko and fancy twat. The rest of you, try not to drool in the alley. Its unsanitary. He opened the door and stepped aside. Co on, Im not getting younger.
Michael sighed and ducked through the doorway.
Reviews
All reviews (0)