by Carrie Patel
Malone mirrored the other woman’s posture, scowling and cursing herself for setting her own trap. Fifteen seconds later, soldiers crashed through the foliage, their weapons pointed at Malone and Attrop.
“Don’t move!” one soldier said. In a classic example of overkill, he and half of the squadron kept their weapons trained on Malone and Attrop while the other half either patted them down for weapons, bound their wrists, or stood by and observed the process.
And then they were marched back toward the train, through a parting cluster of soldiers. The door to the middle carriage was already open by the time they arrived. They received a final pat-down before they were ushered inside.
The two men and the woman who had stepped out of the train minutes ago were seated around a low, carved table, a teapot and curving glasses between them. The men eyed Malone, but the woman’s eyes flew directly to Attrop.
“I was wondering when I’d see you again,” Lachesse, the woman, said. “How obliging of you to join us.”
“And I’m glad you finally returned,” Attrop said.
Malone felt the barb even without understanding the nature of their bitter history. Yet Lachesse deflected it with a cool smile. “Manners, Francine,” she said to Attrop. “You haven’t introduced us to your new friend.”
“Malone, this is Lady Myra Lachesse, formerly of Recoletta. Myra, this is Chief Liesl Malone.”
“And this is Chancellor O’Brien and Father Isse,” Lachesse said, motioning to the two men. “And now comes the moment when we ask what you two are doing here.”
Malone didn’t like allowing Attrop to do all of the talking, but she felt the barrel of a rifle in her side when she opened her mouth to speak.
“We’re here to stop Sato,” Attrop said.
“It’s the thought that counts,” Lachesse said after a pause. “I’m afraid your presence here is superfluous. Then again, you knew that when you called the soldiers, didn’t you?”
With a flash of frustration, Malone knew where the discussion was headed, just as she knew that she was powerless to stop it. “You can’t–” she began, only to feel a sharp blow between her shoulder blades. She fell to her knees, coughing, while Attrop continued unruffled.
“Sato’s only half of your problem. I can give you the farmers. They’re camped out here. Not far away,” Attrop said.
There was a long silence around the table as Lachesse and the two men looked at one another. “You presume to give us what we can take ourselves?” said the bearded man, Chancellor O’Brien.
“You can mow down the camp without my help if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Attrop said, sneering at the man. “You’ll only succeed in crippling the workforce. One you’ll need if you’re to avoid exacerbating the food crisis in Recoletta.”
“What exactly are you offering?” Father Isse asked, his hands folded in his lap.
“Their leader. The firebrand who’s kept them united. Eliminate him, and the rest of the resistance will fall.”
“She’s wrong,” Malone said, pulling herself to her feet again. “Almost a thousand farmers have come. The strike is bigger than any one person now. Taking action against them will only galvanize them.”
The three seated figures looked again at one another in silent conference.
“You think destroying one man will break the rebellion?” Father Isse asked Attrop.
“That’s why you’ve come to the Library in the first place, isn’t it? To destroy one man? Besides, for every one who’s come with us,” Attrop said, “three have stayed in the communes. I’ve traveled with these people for days. They will not be so hard to convince.”
Malone could see Attrop’s logic working on them, deepening their thoughtful frowns.
“Let me bring him to you,” Attrop said. “I can convince him to come without a fight.”
“And what do you expect in return for your kind assistance?” Father Isse asked.
Attrop glared at Lachesse. “Whatever you’ve promised her.”
Lachesse arched one contemptuous eyebrow but said nothing.
“Bring him here, then,” Isse said, nodding at the door.
Attrop left, but not without a dubious glance over her shoulder. There had been no promise in Isse’s tone, but she had little choice but to trust her new bedfellows now.
“You’re making a mistake,” Malone said when she was sure Attrop was out of earshot.
“That’s what someone in your position always says,” Lachesse said, inscrutable and sipping her tea.
“You really trust her?” Malone asked.
“Of course not. But I trust her motives. Ambition is always predictable.”
“Her ambitions won’t end here. You’re setting her up right beside you.”
“There will be enough to go around once Recoletta’s back in order,” Lachesse said. “Besides, I could use a little help running the Library.”
Malone laughed. “Is that what you think she wants? She and Clothoe came to burn it.”
Lachesse’s face turned a shade paler.
“Besides, you’re gambling on Attrop’s assessment,” Malone said. “If she’s wrong about the farmers, you’ll only harden them against you.”
“As if they aren’t already set against us,” the chancellor said.
“Right now, they want a deal,” Malone said. “But if you shoot them like dogs, they’ll go on the offensive. And you’re surrounded by them.”
The notion wrinkled brows and tightened mouths.
“So you’d have us gamble on your assessment instead,” Lachesse said.
“It’s the least risky of the two,” Malone said. “You need them.”
The three leaders said nothing more, and Malone kept quiet, hoping her logic was working on them in the silence. Sooner than she would have liked, quick footsteps plodded through the wet grass outside. Attrop climbed the stairs into the carriage, followed by Salazar, who grimaced as he looked at the three seated figures.
Then he looked at Malone and her cuffed hands, and his pupils narrowed to pinpricks.
“So this is the fierce firebrand,” Lachesse said. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Salazar turned back to the older woman. “I hear you lot have a plan. One that requires the farmers’ assistance,” he said. Malone heard little conviction in his voice.
“That is one way of putting it,” said Lachesse.
“Another is that you’re about to trade problems with Sato for problems with the folk harvesting your food,” he said.
Lachesse smiled, but the corner of her mouth twitched.
“And you’ve brought, what, a couple hundred soldiers?” he asked. “They won’t get you any closer to the Library. Whole perimeter’s sown with mines and strung with razor wire.”
“Are you volunteering to march your own fellows through the barricades?” Father Isse asked.
“We’ve hung back for a reason,” Salazar said. “Just giving you a little friendly advice.”
“How kind of you,” O’Brien said.
In the pause that followed, Malone read smug satisfaction and a strange sense of irony. “You’ve already sent a force to breach the Library,” she said.
“There’s no time to waste, and we’ve the cover of night on our side,” O’Brien said.
“Are you crazy?” Malone asked. “You saw what Sato did the last time you sent soldiers to his gates.”
“It’s a risky operation, but the chancellor’s soldiers are the best,” Father Isse said. “Besides, Sato wouldn’t dare try that tactic here. He won’t risk destroying the Library.”
“A few months ago, you would have said the same thing about Recoletta,” Malone said.
Her comment drew sober expressions from the group around the table, but neither Lachesse nor the city leaders said anything.
Finally, Chancellor O’Brien sat forward, scowling behind folded hands. “No sense delaying this further,” he said. Two soldiers approached Salazar, grabbing his arms.
�
�Wait!” Malone said. “Just listen.”
The soldiers looked at the chancellor, who held up a hand.
“You don’t need to do this now,” Malone said. “If your soldiers get through to Sato, you can deal with Salazar then. In the meantime, there’s no reason to get rid of someone who could be useful.”
The chancellor’s beard bristled with a scowl. Yet Father Isse gave the faintest of grins. “She speaks wisely.”
Attrop looked from the seated group back to Malone. “This is foolishness. She’s stalling you so that she can escape with him.”
“Francine, don’t get overwrought. Even the good Chief Malone can’t possibly evade a hundred of the chancellor’s finest, much less with a friend in tow,” Lachesse said as Attrop fumed.
“I’m inclined to agree,” said Isse.
“Fine,” said O’Brien. “We’ll wait until–”
Someone was approaching the train car at a swift trot. Murmurs rose from the troops stationed outside the door, low and ominous. The man who clomped his way into the compartment was panting, his breaths as ragged as the torn and frayed edges of his uniform.
The three conspirators around the table drew back, their eyes wide with apprehension.
“Report,” Chancellor O’Brien said.
“We were unable to break through to the Library, sir,” the man said. His eyes were red, filled with the horror and humiliation of defeat. “We took fire as we pushed toward the building. We returned shots and suppressed most of their attacks. But when we reached the wall of the building, we... they...” He cleared his throat. “They poured something onto us. Like liquid fire. Threw capsules of the stuff behind us to block our retreat. It clung to whatever it touched – stone, metal, everything.” He fell silent for a moment, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. “Most of the troops were bunched up around the building, taking cover by the wall. Got covered in it. Barely a dozen of us made it back.”
The chancellor leaned forward, gripping the arms of his chair. “Out of the original force of ninety, only a dozen of you survived?”
“Fourteen precisely, sir.” The soldier looked down.
“What about the Library?” Lachesse asked. “Did it take damage?”
“Hard to say, madam. A corner of the wall was hit with that fire. Most of the stuff hit the ground. But it was still blazing when I lost sight of it.”
“Brick and stone,” Chancellor O’Brien said, looking at Lachesse. “Even Sato’s fire can’t breach it.” He didn’t sound convinced.
“That’s not the point,” she said, rubbing the back of one long thumbnail. “It’s a message. He’ll let this place go up in flames before he surrenders it.”
“Perhaps we should adjust our priorities,” O’Brien said.
Lachesse looked at him sharply. “The only thing we’re changing is our approach. Malone was right. You can’t breach Sato’s defenses through sheer force.”
“We could with heavy munitions,” said O’Brien.
“Don’t be absurd. You’ll make a mess of the Library. Nothing more.”
“I suppose you have a better idea?”
“I do,” Malone said. Attrop, Salazar, the soldiers, and the trio at the table looked at her, their faces betraying various shades of anger, hope, and curiosity.
“Please share,” Father Isse said.
“Sato’s going to notice a big crowd,” Malone said, remembering Farrah’s earlier suggestion. “But we found a smaller approach off to the east. A squadron of soldiers wouldn’t make it, but one or two people might.”
“Only to be surrounded by Sato’s forces in the Library,” Chancellor O’Brien said, frowning.
“Which might not be a problem if Sato has reason to trust them,” Father Isse said. “Do I understand you correctly, Chief Malone?”
Attrop shook her head. “You’ve been absent from Recoletta for days,” she said. “Sato’s as likely to execute you on sight.”
Malone had considered this. It remained a strong possibility. “Perhaps not. If I bring him someone he’s more interested in.” She turned to Salazar, who looked back and gave her a faint nod.
“Preposterous,” Chancellor O’Brien said. “You could bring anyone to Sato and call the poor sap any name you’d like.”
“Are you volunteering?” Salazar asked.
The chancellor stiffened in his chair, looking away from the younger man.
“Sato’s met all sorts,” Malone said. “He brought all sorts with him to Recoletta. It won’t take much to prove that this man’s a farmer. Especially not when he sent me to deal with them in the first place.”
“Sato will see what he wants to believe,” Lachesse said, nodding. “He always has, anyway.”
“And he’s going to believe that his absentee chief of police has just sauntered into the Library, escorting the one man he wants executed?” O’Brien jabbed a finger at Malone and Salazar, his face turning red.
Father Isse smiled placidly. “It’s certainly more likely than his absentee chief of police staking her life as part of an elaborate ruse.”
Attrop made a swiping motion with one splayed, thick-fingered hand. “The bigger problem is getting Malone inside. None of this will matter if Sato’s guards shoot her from the rooftops, and let’s be honest, that’s the likeliest outcome of this farce.”
“That’s why we’ll need a distraction,” Salazar said. “One my farmers can provide.”
The gathering turned their attention to him.
“We’re almost a thousand strong. That’s plenty to spread around the western perimeter and keep Sato’s guards busy. Especially if we light a few torches and make some noise.”
“You’ll have to do more than that to hold their attention,” Lachesse said, her eyes narrowed to slits. “This will be costly for your people.”
Salazar rolled his shoulders back, setting his mouth in a grim frown. “We’ve paid costs already. You give us your guarantee of a fair deal, and we’ll do our part to get rid of Sato.”
“You’d sacrifice your own people to solve a problem between the cities?” Attrop asked, her arms crossed.
“This problem is bigger than the cities,” Salazar said. “I thought I’d made that clear.”
Father Isse tented his fingers. “Say we accept your help. How do you know we’ll keep our word?”
“You can’t afford not to. When word gets round you threw a thousand of us at Sato’s barricades only to betray us, you’ll have an even bigger problem on your hands.” Salazar looked at the assembled group, his eyes bright and angry. “You act as if we’ll disappear if you ignore us long enough. But even if you deny us, betray us, how long will you have before another group of us bands together and rises up? A year? Five years? One way or another, it’ll happen. You just have to decide what it’s going to cost you.” He glared at Attrop. “And how much you care about stopping Sato in the meantime.”
After a long silence, Father Isse spoke up. “Then it seems we are decided. The remainder of the chancellor’s forces can keep Sato’s guards busy here, on the northern end.”
Chancellor O’Brien only furrowed his brow.
Salazar nodded. “I’ll need to speak with my people. Tell them the plan.”
“Then there’s no time to lose. Hurry, while darkness is on our side,” Father Isse said.
Attrop looked from Salazar to Father Isse. “You can’t mean to let him just walk out of here.”
“I must if we mean to confront Sato.”
“This is foolish. Nothing stops him from melting back into his group and disappearing.”
Father Isse shared a long look with Salazar. “Nothing but the promise of stopping Sato. And the threat of the status quo.” He looked back over at Attrop before she could speak again. “And you shall nevertheless have your promised reward.”
Attrop said nothing further, and Malone left with Salazar before anyone else could object.
They made their way back up the hill. Malone didn’t dare check over her shoulder until they
were halfway up the rise, and when she did, she was surprised to see the chancellor’s soldiers still clustered around the train.
Salazar hadn’t said a word since they’d left the train. Malone cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” she said. “And for volunteering you without–”
“What’s the difference?” he said. “Way I see it, they wanted to kill me, and so will Sato. At least this way, we’ve got a fighting chance. Let’s leave it at that.”
Malone nodded and did exactly that.
Farrah was waiting for them when they reached the top of the hill. “What the hell happened down there? We were talking about sending a larger group after you, and then we saw fires by the Library...”
“Long story,” Malone said, noticing Dalton, Cabral, and Macmillan hovering nearby, along with a small knot of farmers. “Where’s Clothoe?”
“Sleeping,” Dalton said. “The march took it out of her. Is something–”
“Have someone keep an eye on them,” Malone said, pointing to the three Revisionists. She turned to Farrah. “We need to talk.”
“I’ll round up the rest of the leaders,” Salazar said, trotting down the hill towards camp. The waiting farmers surrounded the three baffled Revisionists and gently, but firmly, guided them down the hill after Salazar.
Farrah gripped Malone’s arm. “What’s going on? And what is that?” she asked, pointing toward the Library.
Malone looked and saw a faint orange glow and a thread of flame running up one corner of the building. “That’s what we’re up against. What Salazar’s farmers are going to have to draw away from us.”
“From you and Salazar? While you do what, exactly?”
“We’re going into the Library. After Sato.”
Farrah blinked. “That’s insane.”
Malone hoped that Salazar’s conference with his associates would save her from having the same conversation yet again. “It’s our only option,” she said.
“Not much of one,” Farrah said.
For a long time, neither of them said anything. Malone watched the fire that still burned at the distant corner of the building and tried not to think about what she was about to do. Behind her, the camp murmured and rustled.