by wildbow
“Where? I don’t know that place. Or person.”
“Place. A smaller city, far east. We thought he might be heading into the heart of the Crown’s territory, but he’s staying put. We only found out he was there because he’s building up an organization, and he unwittingly invited a Crown spy into his group.”
“Knowing Sylvester, it was probably witting.”
Mary looked thoughtful. “Perhaps. But by all accounts… nobody who has seen him has said he’s been doing well.”
‘Then Jamie isn’t with him?”
“Apparently not,” Mary said.
Lillian nodded.
“We’re leaving soon.”
“There’s never any forewarning,” Lillian said.
“It’s why we keep bags packed,” Mary said. “I brought yours.”
“You’re a dear. Just… let me check?” Lillian asked.
“Of course. And Duncan—”
“—Asked you to ask me to check. And write it down exactly.”
“Exactly,” Mary said.
The crowd wasn’t exactly thinning. People who had waited were losing patience and joining the crowd, keeping the size roughly even, but the initial rush and push had died down.
She weaved her way through the crowd. Talking to Mary had centered her. If she’d navigated this crowd with Patty’s poisonous words in her mind, this journey through the bodies would have been awful. Doubly so if she hadn’t shooed Patty off like she did.
She suspected she would pay for that. But that wasn’t a war she’d win anyway. She’d long ago decided that she couldn’t fight the rumors and there were limits to what she could do about sabotage. The only thing she could do was do the best work she could, and use what she’d learned from the Lambs. A lot of that had involved finding a measure of emotional strength within herself.
She reached the front of the crowd, and one or two students glanced at her and recognized her. She knew their faces, but not their names.
Following the interviews and project proposals, the ‘zero quarter’, students would start their work on their final projects to earn their white coats. The year was divided into four quarters, and each one was graded. Producing good results at each quarter was essential, as it dictated the resources allotted, and as Patty had said, it adjusted the expectations of the instructors for the final assessments.
But above all else, it told students where they stood.
Lillian Garey
Q0 (Winter): 12th (-11) O: 5 P: 5 E: 7
Q1 (Spring): 7th (+5) O: 6 P: 7 E: 9 Au: 2
Q2 (Summer): 28th (-21) O: 6 P: 5 E: 5 Au: 1
Q3 (Fall): 6th (+22) O: 6 P: 7 E: 10 Au: 3
Lillian sighed in relief.
Sixth place was a far cry from first, but… she’d recovered. She’d unconsciously known she would, given how she had thrown herself into her studies after a hard summer, but a twenty-one position drop was cause to start doubting oneself.
She had picked up some financial backers over and above what the school itself would give her, and people clearly liked the quality of her work.
She checked other results. Duncan was second. Frank was first, and he had a commendation for his work. She could see where the other notable students had risen and fallen. Harold, Chester, Beatrice had placed in the top ten. Her earlier suspicions about others were confirmed as she found their places on the rankings.
Lillian had to search to find Patty.
Patty’s block of results was on the long piece of paper, closer to the ground than to eye level. From a rise to fourth in zero quarter, to twelfth, then sixty-second, then one hundred and thirty-third place. No backers. Given the scoring, the only reason she was even as high as a hundred and thirty third out of three hundred students was that she’d started out with a good position. There was some hope that her talents would bear fruit.
Lillian knew in that moment that she would probably never see Patty again. The girl was very likely done at Radham. Pulling up from that steep a drop would be nigh-impossible. No matter how many strings she had available to pull, she wouldn’t get through the next zero quarter, either. She could prove her talents might bear fruit, but it would be at a smaller, less prestigious Academy.
Lillian dutifully wrote down Duncan’s results, then found her way back to Mary. Her conversation with Patty lingered in her mind, taking on a new tone now that she knew the context.
She wanted to dislike the girl, but she only felt a profound sadness.
“Lillian?” Mary asked.
Lillian looked up.
“Are you okay?” Mary asked, cautious.
Lillian realized how she must have looked. She smiled, and she laughed a little. “I’m fantastic, and Duncan did fantastic too.”
“The look on your face—”
“I’m worrying about others.”
Mary gave her an abrupt hug.
“I’m only sixth, mind you”
“That’s not why I’m hugging you,” Mary said. “And you can climb to a more respectable ranking in the last quarter.”
Lillian nodded, giving Mary a tight squeeze.
Mary understood.
“Only problem,” Lillian said. “Is one little goblin that acts as an ill omen when it comes to my grades.”
“Only solution,” Mary said, keeping one arm around Lillian’s shoulders as she led Lillian into a walk, “Is we shoot out both of his knees, then riddle the body with knives.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Lillian said, fully aware they were joking. “Except knives are too merciful.”
“We should enlist Nora and Lara when we get that far,” Mary said. “From the horrible things they come up with when they taunt and mock each other, they could come up with something interesting.”
“Perfect. But I get dibs.”
“Of course. I have my own axe to grind. Literally. But larva twin torments, axings, knives and kneecapping is all going to have to wait.”
“Wait?” Lillian asked. She mocked horror. “No!”
“Sylvester doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, and we’ve received an invitation,” Mary said. Her tone was changing to become decidedly more serious.
Fray? No. It would have come in the same breath as Hayle ordering them to move. Which meant noble. Which meant—
“The Infante,” Mary said, with no humor in her voice anymore. “He wants us to stop in on our way over.”
☙
As a group, they departed the train. Duncan, Ashton, Mary, Helen, and Lillian made their way down to the train platform, each carrying their bags.
From the adjacent train car, Hayle and Ibbot stepped down. They had help. A flock of professors and gray coats followed them, independent of that help.
Ibbot almost looked in his element here, but he worked hard at dispelling that notion. The small, balding, greasy man moved awkwardly in the midst of the group. He would turn to talk, and get in someone’s way, and the graceful movement of the entourage they’d managed to gather would be disrupted. Even his voice seemed jarring. Too loud at the wrong times, as if loudness could serve in place of a sense of humor or wit.
Hayle, by contrast, conducted himself as any headmaster should. Lillian didn’t agree with Hayle in all things, or even in most things, but she could look up to him in this.
“I still don’t see why you would feel bad,” Duncan said.
The topic had turned to Patty, a minute before they had stepped off the train.
“Solidarity?” Lillian guessed. “Because she’s a person, and I don’t actually like other people losing or failing out, even if it means my success?”
“Because you’re a gentle soul,” Helen said.
“Gentle isn’t how I’d put it,” Lillian said.
“It’s not how I’d put it either,” Duncan volunteered.
“Pish posh,” Helen tutted.
“I think Lillian’s a gentle soul,” Ashton said. “I think you’re a soul that’s going to get yelled at, Helen.”
“She is,” Li
llian said. Mary nodded.
Helen looked at each of them, concern clear on her face.
“You ate too many treats from the tea cart,” Ashton accused.
“Hardly!” Helen said, hand going to her mouth.
“Your stomach isn’t perfectly flat,” Ashton said. “He’ll yell at you.”
Helen looked down. “I’ll rearrange my insides for a while.”
She did. She subtly contorted herself to look at her midsection from a few different angles before nodding, self-satisfied.
“Getting back to what we were talking about, I don’t like seeing others fail, either,” Duncan said. “But if someone had to fail, I’m sort of glad it’s her?”
“I don’t know,” Lillian said.
“She’s kind of really exceptionally evil?” Duncan suggested. “Even above and beyond the usual required of an Academy student?”
“I mostly avoided her. I was going to ask how you handled her. You’re usually so good at navigating that strategic space. People, politics.”
“I didn’t. I was terrified of her.”
“Did she come after you?”
“She told me I was asking her out,” Duncan said, with the terror clear on his face.
Lillian laughed.
“It wasn’t because of interest. It was because I was second place and she wanted information.”
“What did you do?”
“I went on the danged date.”
“Really?” Helen cooed.
“And I made sure to be as boring as humanly possible, so there wouldn’t be a second one. I gave the dullest, shortest response available to every question, and I paid her every courtesy a gentleman should, while I did it.”
“Fantastic,” Lillian said. “I’m actually impressed.”
“Some scandal or another caught her attention before she could figure out how to deal with me, and I mostly stayed out of her way after that.”
“Maybe she actually liked you,” Ashton said.
“Never ever got that feeling,” Duncan said. He turned his head. “Hello, headmaster. Professor Ibbot.”
Lillian joined the girls and Ashton in giving her greetings.
As they split into groups to enter the carriages, she was sure to enter the carriage with Professor Hayle.
Ibbot, meanwhile, fussed over Helen, wanting her to be as perfect as possible for the imminent visit.
Lillian sat by Mary, across from the headmaster.
“Congratulations on the placement,” Professor Hayle said.
“Thank you, sir,” Lillian said.
“You can do better.”
“Yes sir,” she said.
The old man nodded. “Unfair of me to criticize, perhaps. I can do better, I suspect.”
“By all accounts, you’re the best headmaster Radham has had.”
“Tell me that when I’ve been in power for a full year. I inherited the Academy after a tumultuous time, and the timing was fortunate. It makes me look better than I am.”
“Just as the civil wars move out east?”
“Perhaps. The nature of the war may well be changing. I sensed an opportunity many years ago, when I first moved to create the Lambs. I suspected the battlefields would look like they do today. That the enemies wouldn’t be generals, but reverends. Not soldiers with rifles and bayonet blades, but scientists with books. Not unstoppable brutes, but things that lurked in shadows.”
“I’m rather partial to my guns and blades,” Mary said.
“And you’re partial to the shadows, too. Don’t deny that,” Professor Hayle said. “You know your poisons. You know where to position yourself. It wasn’t so terribly long ago that armies marched to war and stood out on the open field of battle, standing there to reload, aim, and fire as allies and friends to either side of them dropped dead. We’ve moved well past that. To trenches and waves of dead men, then to dark corners and more refined killers.”
Mary nodded.
“The nature of the battlefield will change again. The paradigm is shifting once more. I hope I’m able to suss out the coming reality as I did our current one, but only time will tell.”
“Where do we stand in this?” Lillian asked.
“When you say ‘we’, do you mean yourself and Duncan, who is enduring a carriage ride with our master of monsters, or do you mean yourself and the remainder of the Lambs?”
“Is it a mark against me if I say it’s the latter?” Lillian asked.
“I wonder,” Hayle said. He smiled. “Don’t worry, Lillian. I’m fond enough of you that I’m not about to mark you, for good or for ill.”
“Thank you sir,” Lillian said.
“I would say that the Lambs are, by design, uniquely suited for the current reality. I’m hopeful you’ll collectively determine the nature of the next reality.”
Lillian nodded, taking in the answer.
In retrospect, it made some sense of his earlier question, about whether she counted herself among the Lambs or among the students.
She wondered if she should have given a different answer. By Hayle’s own definition, the Lambs were created for the now. Shaping the future, yes, but with no place in it.
She had hoped to ask more questions, but the short discussion occupied her thoughts, and Hayle offered nothing more.
The warmth of Mary’s upper arm touching hers reminded Lillian that she wasn’t alone. The fate of Patty and the standing of the other Lambs lingered in her mind.
Ten or fifteen minutes passed.
“I hate the rain,” Hayle murmured.
“Hm?” Lillian stirred.
“It’s nothing,” the man said. “We’ve arrived.”
“Yes sir,” Lillian said. She smoothed out her skirt, and straightened her clothing where it had gotten rustled from two stints of travel, one long and one short.
“The Infante is a dangerous man,” Hayle said.
Mary and Lillian nodded.
“I’m supposed to offer you words of encouragement,” Hayle said. “I’ve talked to the High Noble twice, and I have no advice to give. I can’t tell you to be wary. There will be no warning. I can’t tell you to be careful. I could tell you to be perfect, but I’d expect you two more than anyone else to try at that regardless… and I fear being perfect isn’t always enough, for him.”
Lillian would have replied with a ‘yes sir’, but she worried the words would catch in her throats.
“I’ve played god,” Hayle said, as if to himself, shutting his eyes for a moment. “Let’s face the devils bravely.”
The words sounded alien coming from Professor Hayle’s lips.
The old man opened his eyes and looked at Lillian.
“Ah,” he said. “Bad form, for a man of science, I know. Not faith, don’t you worry. More of a private joke.”
“I see,” Lillian said. She didn’t.
“I created the Lambs. Created you, collectively, if you’ll allow me to include you in the group you identify with. In life, in destiny, in the blood I had the Lambs shed, and in the expiration dates I knew would be handed down to all but to you, Lillian, I had a firm hand. When the Academy and the Church went to war, the act of ‘playing god’ was hot on their lips. They promised that our actions would have an equal and opposite reaction. I think of that reaction as the devils coming to call on us.”
The carriage door opened. A collection of stitched were gathered there, with Crown doctors and soldiers.
“Have they?” Lillian dared ask, with the listening ears.
“For the Academy as a whole? It has felt overdue since I heard the words leave the lips of those men, back when I was still a student. For me as an individual? I felt as though they would come for me the moment I signed my name to your project and I’ve felt that sword poised over my head ever since.”
Mary spoke, “After all of that waiting, I imagine your pet viper turning on you must have felt like a relief.”
Lillian glanced at Mary. She thought of Percy.
Percy’s devil had
come calling, in the end.
Hayle, though, only chuckled. “It almost did. Almost. But the sword is still there. I might have the benefit of having a sense of where it is, yet that is balanced out by the fact that the edge is now pressed against my throat.”
Lillian might have added more, but she was deeply uncomfortable with the current topic, when there were listening ears. Hayle seemed comfortable picking his words carefully.
Will you be disappointed if the devil doesn’t come knocking? she wondered.
But she couldn’t frame that question without insulting her benefactor, or tipping off the listening ears.
The silence that followed was welcome… and soon broken by Ibbot’s talk.
She tuned the man out as best as she could. With gestures, she signaled to Helen, Duncan, and Ashton.
Together.
They were led as a group through winding hallways, past glass framed not with branches, but with veins.
Past living walls. A simple pillar of flesh, but in a crisis, those pillars would prove to be vacuum tubes, vomiting out streams of Academy-produced work. At virtually any hallway or room of the building where the flesh had been placed, a modest army could be produced, ejaculated forth and ready for battle in minutes at worst, moments at best.
In other places, it served as incubation chambers for vat-grown life that would last a very short time outside of its sac, but would do immense damage in the short term.
She could see some of the life forms, and recognized them as primordial-inspired. Derived from tests carried out in isolated, secured locations.
Everywhere else was thick stone, branch-like growth that would be harder than steel, and, running between stones, there would be a system akin to a nervous system, allowing for almost instantaneous communication across the facility.
Into the belly of the beast, she thought.
She was glad the Lambs were with her.
The great double doors were pulled open, and the Lambs, joined by a retinue of guards, stitched, and doctors, and by Professors Hayle and Ibbot, stepped into the garden of crimson plants.
The Infante was there, with the Duke of Francis sitting next to him. First Augustus was standing off to one side, by a casket with a lid of frosted glass.