“What could you possibly get from Rex?” said Laura. “They’re out raiding satellite towns and enslaving anyone they don’t murder! They freely admit they want every other city dead, ourselves included! Why would you ever think they want to help us?”
“This is where your inexperience blinds you,” said Juliana. “If Rex really wanted to destroy other cities, it could do that easily. You know what they did to Thrax.”
“Oh, they want us all dead. The only problem is that all the cities are allied against them, so they won’t take the risk,” said Laura. “If you’re trying to ally with them, you’re just giving them an opening! You’ll fracture Amicae from the alliance and open the door for Rexian interference!”
“It’s so easy for Amicae’s citizens to fall for propaganda,” said Juliana. “I’ll bet you believed that story about the walls keeping you safe, too, didn’t you? Whatever. As wild as this sounds to you, the existence of other cities works as a boon for Rex. As other targets, we draw attention from infestations. Essentially, we cover Rex’s back while they attempt to kill the hive mind. It’s a mutually beneficial situation to begin with, but if we foster this relationship—”
“Mutually beneficial.” Laura’s hands curled into fists. “Is that what you think, when the raids get reported in the papers?”
“Anyone living in a satellite town has understood and embraced the danger of its existence,” said Juliana. “It’s not a happy story, but they could just as easily be taken out by infestations, wild animals, or even marauding Rangers. At least with Rex, we know the victims will be put to good use.”
“You bitch,” Laura hissed. “You absolute—”
“Now, now. Didn’t you just say you’d do anything to preserve Amicae’s safety?”
“You’re actively throwing that away!”
“As a Sweeper, my ultimate goal is protecting my new city from infestations.” Juliana stood again. She pulled aside the black drapes, reaching for something on the shelves. “With Amicae in the state it is, that’s going to be a difficult task. The Council talks a big game, but they don’t think the situation’s changed. The wall is no longer something they can hide behind, but it never worked in the first place, and Sinclairs operated ‘perfectly’ even without proper attention. They think we should be good little girls and accept what we’re told. Well, I’m not a demigod, and clearly neither are you. Whatever Clae Sinclair managed, it’s not an option for us.”
She found what she’d been searching for. Metal rasped as a broad, heavy knife emerged from its sheath. It looked like the dagger Juliana had wielded in the Sundown infestation, but its magical imprint wavered and its shape showed more violence than elegance. Juliana ran a finger lovingly over its flat edge.
“Remember when I told you how valuable that knife of mine was? Terulian versions are rare and hard to make, but Rex has magical weapons down to an art. Each of their Sweepers carries at least one of these. Good for clearing vegetation on campaigns to Kuro no Oukoku, and just as good for chopping infestations. This blade would otherwise cost us the same amount as purchasing this entire block of businesses. Our Rexian contact gave us the one he was carrying, but he promised us more. More blades, more Eggs, more assorted equipment. Even better, they’ll be giving us their kin recipe.”
Even friendly cities would never be so willingly helpful. Rex wanted something in return.
“In exchange for ours,” Laura whispered, “you sold them our Gin. Our Kin. Everything stored in the armory.”
“It’s not as if that junk was helping us,” said Juliana. “Puer prided itself on its advanced kin recipe, and here it barely did anything. Older Amicae equipment packed a punch, but you can’t replicate those, can you? It’s all useless. The only thing that can destroy infestations without question is Rexian technology, and they’ve proven it time and again. It won’t matter who or how many we arm. With Rexian equipment, one person could take down an infestation single-handedly. The Council will cheer about lower costs, and we’ll have done our duty. That said”—she raised the blade so it glinted in the dim light—“I won’t need a very big team, so I can be all the more selective about who’s with me. Do you plan to stand with me, or against me, Laura? I’d love another woman on the team, but you’d have to stay in line.”
Laura glared. “When is Rex supposed to be giving you all this? And what are you planning to do when they stick around and demand more?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we reach it,” said Juliana. “Your answer?”
Laura puffed herself up. “You already know my answer, and it’s hell no.”
“What a pity,” said Juliana. “We can’t have loose ends. Hold still. This shouldn’t hurt a bit.”
She raised the knife.
“Wait!” Okane threw himself between them. “If - - - want my services, I require that Laura stays unharmed.”
Juliana scoffed. “Could you make up your mind, already? So long as you can keep her quiet, fine. I’m not the one who has to explain it to your boss.” She rested the blade on her shoulder. “Let’s get down to business. We got your team into Amicae, into the armory, arranged your departure, and managed to set it all up to look like the mobs’ doing. I assume your boss left Lester with the cache of our first payment. Where is that? We’ll need to retrieve it.”
Okane stayed silent.
“Well?”
“Why do - - - think Rex would send in a squad and dump all of their functional equipment before going back into the wilds?” said Okane. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t have to make sense to me, so long as they make it work. Where’s the cache?”
“They wouldn’t do it,” said Okane.
“Where. Is. The. Cache.”
But Okane had no answer, and didn’t give one. Juliana kept glaring at him, but suddenly something occurred to her; her expression went blank.
“He said you were one of them. He said you were a sleeper agent, meant to make things run smoothly and keep Laura out of the way.”
“I’m not,” said Okane. “I’m sorry, Juliana, but they played - - -.”
Her lips spread in a savage grin. “So that’s it, then? Rex took everything and left me with nothing but a knife? Don’t pout at me, you two. This is more valuable than all the trash in that armory. I haven’t lost a damn thing.” She brandished the knife again, and it hummed with energy. “I do not get played. I get even.”
Both Laura and Okane took a wary step back. Okane’s eyes were glued to the blade.
“We’re not the ones who double-crossed - - -.”
“Save your breath,” said Juliana. “I can’t have this kind of information getting out. It’s all just business, and you’re both unnecessary surplus!”
On that last word, she swung the blade. Laura and Okane lurched in opposite directions. The blade hit hard enough to dig deep into the countertop, and the glass pane below shattered.
“You think I’ll let you run your mouth to the whole damn city?” Juliana wrenched the blade back out. “You think I’ll let you walk out of here free?”
She turned after Okane, still swiping. He kept one step ahead of it, his magic crackling as the blade whooshed an inch from his stomach. Laura cast around for weapons. She still had an Egg in her bag, but she wasn’t willing to use it now; not with so many other Eggs present that could catch under its energy, and not in such cramped quarters. Glass pieces from the old Kin setup still crowded the countertop, but what could a flask do against such a long knife? For lack of anything else, Laura snatched up one of the stools.
Okane tripped. He dropped backward with a yelp, catching at the counter for balance. Juliana aimed at his head, but Laura rushed her. She pinned Juliana to the counter’s side with the stool legs.
“Go get the police!” she cried.
Juliana snarled and swiped. Pinned as she was, she couldn’t gain much leverage, but the blade gouged the stool’s seat; it missed Laura’s face and hand by a hairsbreadth. She backpedaled on instinc
t, and only just managed to raise her defense again as Juliana followed. Every swing lopped off a piece of stool leg, and once she came close enough she chopped straight through the footrests. One of the legs fell off; another groaned at a weird angle. Juliana closed in. Something thudded against her back, and she stumbled. The object fell and broke on the floor, and only then did Laura realize it was a flask. Another glass container flew past them both and smashed against the wall.
“Keep - - -r eyes on me!” Okane barked.
Juliana turned for him again. Okane grabbed the largest of the glasswork and broke it on the counter; he brandished its splintered form by the neck.
Laura dropped the stool. She planted her foot on the underside of the seat and wrenched the longest remaining leg from its socket. She ran with it. Juliana had already slashed, Okane had already sidestepped. Juliana readied herself for another attack, but Laura wasn’t about to let that happen. She brought the stool leg down on the flat top of the blade. Juliana’s grip kept it from falling, but the angle made the wood slide straight down into her knuckles. Juliana screeched and dropped it. The blade clanged to the floor. Laura used the stool leg to hook and swat it away. The blade spun across the floor before coming to a slow stop just before the door.
Breathing hard, Laura aimed her improvised weapon at Juliana.
“You,” she panted, “are a traitor to Amicae.”
Juliana slumped against the counter, eyes wide and manic. “Who’s the traitor here?” she spat. “I, who tried to improve this place, or you, clinging to rotted traditions?”
“- - - didn’t even try to understand what those traditions are,” said Okane.
“I knew enough! I saw enough!”
Laura sighed. Seeing Juliana like a cornered animal was both disheartening and infuriating. Hadn’t she been so sharp? Hadn’t she been such a good Sweeper? All of her talents and all of her posturing for the media, wasted.
Laura shouldn’t have let her guard down.
Juliana smiled again, wide and cruel. “Don’t think you’ve won just yet.”
Her foot collided with Laura’s shin. Laura lost her balance with a squawk of surprise. Okane immediately moved to catch her. Juliana scrambled past them both and rushed for the door.
“Stop!” Laura shouted.
Juliana snatched up the fallen blade, but she didn’t face them. No, midstride, she cut open her own leg. Blood blossomed on her skirts as she caught the doorknob, and she threw the blade behind her. She burst outside, screaming, “Help! Help! They’re trying to kill me!”
What?
Laura tore after her and halted in the doorway.
The blinds might have been down, but the shouts and breaking glass had caught attention. Juliana had tottered straight into a policeman’s arms and now lay bleeding in the road, sobbing.
“It was them!” She pointed straight at Laura. “They’re with the Mad Dogs after all! They were ordered to get rid of me!”
The two officers present looked up at Laura. The first one curled his arms more protectively over Juliana, while the second drew his gun and shouted, “Drop your weapon!”
Laura’s mind crawled. Belatedly she realized she still held the stool leg; not a good first impression for this situation.
“It’s not what it looks like!” she said, and realized, again belatedly, that no one innocent ever said that at a crime scene.
“I said drop it!” said the policeman.
He looked ready to shoot regardless.
If the Council claims you’re a mobster, you’ll face worse even without proof, Haru had said. We know very well the lengths and cruelty the Council will stoop to.
Laura’s reputation had been tied to the Mad Dogs since the very first Dead Ringer article. It wasn’t much of a leap to make the connection now; to most people this incident would prove their suspicions. In their loathing for the mobs, these policemen wouldn’t question it or treat the Sweepers kindly. With this kind of leverage the Council could put Laura and Clae’s legacy to rest permanently. It didn’t matter that there was no proof. This would be the end.
Laura would not let it end.
“Eat shit, Juliana,” she spat, and grabbed behind her. She caught Okane’s wrist without a glance and towed him down the steps with her.
“Stop!” cried the policeman.
Laura dodged into the gap between Sweeper shop and pawnshop. The gun cracked behind her, and the bullet smashed pieces loose from the shop’s siding.
“Faster!” said Okane, and she obliged.
Behind the shop rose the high wall separating Acis Road from the residential area behind it. Laura and Okane dashed along it. Laura glanced through the thin alleys at Acis proper and glimpsed more running policemen, heard whistles blown, shouting. At last the gate came into view. Another officer stood there, confused by the noise but not yet aware of the trouble.
“Wait!” he called as they charged past him. “No one’s supposed to go in or—”
“You didn’t see us!” said Laura.
“But I—What?”
Apartment buildings rose about them now, towering higher than the Cynder Block and stretching in every direction. They passed laundry lines, trash cans, groups of chatting residents, a game of street baseball. This section of Amicae was little better than a labyrinth, made still harder by the number of people and hiding places. Laura never doubted that mobsters lurked here, and it disgusted her to think she was here to hide the same way they did. She only paused in the shadow of an apartment’s main doors. For a while she and Okane simply stood there, catching their breath.
“Where are we going?” said Okane.
“Away from there,” said Laura. “God, that Juliana makes me want to—Ooh, I should’ve hit her with that stick.”
“That would’ve made the situation worse,” said Okane.
“Would it? Because I think we’re at the brink of failure right now.” Laura sagged against the wall and closed her eyes, trying to shut out her frustration, but it didn’t work. Anger bubbled in her chest. “I can think of a few ideas, but for a plan … Byron will get facts, but no one will pay attention to facts if mobs are supposed to be involved.”
Okane studied the cracked pavement underfoot. “Should we approach the Mad Dogs for protection?”
“And prove her right? I don’t think so,” said Laura. “If we’re not playing into one person’s hands, we’re playing into another’s.”
Okane relaxed somewhat. “I hoped - - -’d say that. Regardless, I don’t think we have any support at this point, or anywhere to—Laura? What are - - - thinking?”
Laura clenched her hands so tight, her nails dug into her skin. “I know what I’m going to do, but you don’t have to come along.”
“And that is?”
“I’m going to Rex. If they really escaped with the MacDanels’ help, they can’t be far in front of us. Clae and Anselm aren’t totally out of our reach, and I’ll be damned if I let Rex do whatever they want with them. Clae’s letter talked about his fears if Anselm was discovered, and I don’t want any of those options to happen to either of them. I’ll get them back safe, and once I do that I can focus on fixing Amicae.”
Okane stayed quiet. Laura’s eyes remained fixed to the ground, but she heard his sigh and noticed when he started checking through his bag.
“We don’t have a lot of equipment left over from that wilds infestation. I’ve got a few Bijou, flash pellets—”
Laura looked up. “What? I just said, you don’t have to—”
“Clae was the closest thing I had to family and safety since my mother died. I’m not about to let someone desecrate his body. Besides.” He pulled his gun from its holster and popped it open, surveying the ammo inside with forced nonchalance. “I can’t let - - - invade a hostile city on - - -r own. That would make me a terrible friend.”
Laura cracked a smile. “Bringing you along probably makes me a terrible friend.”
“Truly, we’re irreversible mini-Claes,” said Okane.
“I can’t deny that.” She paused, then said, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being you. I just remembered old school friends like Charlie, and let me tell you, they wouldn’t be ready to charge into Rex with me.”
“Losing our minds seems like a prerequisite for the job,” said Okane, but he seemed pleased. “The only weapon I have with much power is this gun, and it’s only got three bullets left.”
“I thought you brought some spring-loaders,” said Laura.
“I used most of them. The only one I have left is the round of Puer bullets, but I’m not about to try that.”
“You mentioned that before. Why was that, again?”
“They sort of rasp when they go in,” said Okane. “It’s not too unlike the Amicae variety, but they feel just a little too big. I keep getting scared that they’ll stick in the barrel instead of firing correctly.”
“That doesn’t sound like a terribly good idea.”
“No, it really doesn’t.”
“Then we’ll have to conserve those bullets,” said Laura. “I’m in the same state as you, just one Egg left. It’s probably for the best. Trains don’t welcome their customers carrying weapons; they think a robbery might happen.”
“Oh?” Okane perked up. “We’re taking the train?”
“I don’t see any other option for getting there,” said Laura. “You’ve heard of hobos, right?”
16
The Monstrous Citadel Page 25