“Get that Egg over here!” he barked.
Laura jumped down the stairs. She hurried up to him, evading the flailing limbs. He used his foot to flip the mask so it faced up. Only one of the eyes remained. Sucking in a deep breath, Laura cracked the Egg open and held it over the mask. As soon as the kin made contact, it bubbled. More blackness spurted and frothed from its mouth, but it was overtaken fast by golden light. It hissed angrily. Limbs sprouted to thrash in desperation, but they didn’t last any longer than the froth. An awful smell tainted the air. The kin condensed on the amulet, now cracking and spitting. It looked like it was getting cooked. The main form fizzled away into nothing, and Clae lowered his guns.
Portions of kin shone and glittered like gems, overshadowing the rest in a way Laura hadn’t thought possible. It emitted sounds eerily reminiscent of the plinking of a harp. With every note it grew louder and harsher, and the mask began to quake.
“Three,” Clae counted, and Laura realized what was going on.
“Okane! Cover your mouth and nose!”
Okane looked at her like she’d gone insane, but understanding dawned.
“Two. One.”
With an audible snap, a black cloud issued out from under the gold. It didn’t get very far, but judging by the gagging behind them it still had the same potent stench. The kin now soaked into the mask without resistance.
“This one’s dead. The other one should be too, seeing as how I smashed it into a million goddamn pieces,” Clae seethed. He leaned to the side and spat out something dark.
“Are you okay? I didn’t end up hitting you with that Egg or the Bijou, did I?” Laura fretted.
“Damn kaibutsu knocked me down the stairs.”
“That must’ve hurt.” Laura winced, but secretly she was glad. At least she wasn’t the one to do it.
Clae gave her a look that said no shit and turned around.
“Stop that noise and start gathering up the pieces,” he barked, gesturing at Okane and the steps. “We have to get all of those together. Leave one piece and it could end up host to a new infestation.”
Okane scowled at him, eyes still watering, but dutifully began to pick up bits of mask from the stairs.
“Go help him.” Clae slapped a hand against Laura’s arm. “I’m going to find that telephone. It’s giving me a headache.”
It was only now that he mentioned it that Laura realized there was a phone going off. She could hear the tinny bell through one of the doors. She nodded and joined Okane by the steps. The pieces of the mask and amulet were anywhere from pea-size to chunks the length of a nail. It was hard to spot them all in the dark, and Laura pulled off her goggles to see them better. It didn’t help much. On the plus side, the floor was otherwise so clean there was nothing to confuse them with. Might as well just get a broom to sweep it all up.
“Why aren’t the lights on?” she muttered. “I’d think at least the military would have electricity.”
“Gas lighting.” Okane dropped another shard into his cupped hand.
“How do you figure?”
“The Sullivans used to have it before they remodeled their house.” He nodded up at one of the light fixtures. “See that valve? That turns on the gas. Then --- light it.”
“We could turn it on now, couldn’t we? Have you got any matches?”
“No. Besides, I’m not an expert on gas and I don’t want it to explode. Come to think of it, the gas must’ve been shut off before we came in. Otherwise we’d probably be dead after all those explosions.”
Laura frowned and tried to redirect the topic. “Not an expert, huh? Didn’t you just say the Sullivans had it?”
“I wasn’t very old. I couldn’t even reach it at the time.”
“Ah … Makes sense, I suppose.”
Laura returned to gathering pieces. They crawled about in search of parts while Clae talked to the telephone operator in the other room. One of the things he said caught Laura’s attention: the mention of the missing soldiers.
“We only came across one. We’re on the fourth floor. They can’t all be holed up in the top level.”
Laura didn’t know how many people could’ve been in the building, except that there must’ve been a lot, judging by the number of beds and the mention of a counterattack. In an ambush, any number of people could’ve vanished. She hoped Clae was wrong, that a bunch of soldiers lurked upstairs. Soldiers to match the scattered lives and possessions in those rooms they’d passed. In the end the missing persons would be counted, and that number would determine the death count. It wasn’t like they could count bodies. Even when monsters were killed they left nothing behind. Whatever they ate was lost to the world forever.
“Laura?”
She jerked her head up to find Okane staring. “What? Did you find something?”
He shook his head. “No. --- just had a strange look on ---r face.”
“It’s nothing.” She turned her attention back to the amulet shards and picked up a particularly small piece.
“It didn’t look like nothing.”
“It’s not our job to think about.”
She could see him frowning from the corner of her eye. “Did Clae say that?”
“Of course he did.” She scowled, depositing the reddish shard into her palm. “And he’s right. We’ve got more than enough to worry about without thinking of who died. All we need to do is figure out connections, if they’re not obvious. Otherwise there’s no point in lingering on the people. Then again we don’t know if there’s a point to connections—it’s not like we can put any procedures in place to stop another accident.” No point in dwelling on things unchangeable, on things that would only make them hesitate in the future.
“I don’t think he believes it any more than --- do.”
Laura frowned at him, but had no time to ask anything before Clae drifted back to them. He did a quick once-over of the area to make sure they hadn’t missed anything, put the gathered pieces into another little box he carried in his coat.
“Good job with the equipment,” he said as he sorted through them; not all of the shards fit in the box, so he picked out the wooden ones to get all the amulet to fit in there. “When it comes to infestations, particularly mavericks, overkill is better than letting it get the better of you.”
“You don’t think the military will be upset that their wall’s been smashed?” said Laura.
“They can replace the wall, but they can’t replace lives. Particularly yours. They should know that well enough. The Council sets aside funds for this sort of thing, so it shouldn’t be much trouble.” He picked up the other half of the mask and inspected it before glancing at Laura. “You’ve caught on to the Bijou very fast.”
“They’re straightforward.” She shrugged. “Same as the amulets.”
He gave a snort of disbelief. “If they were that easy, I wouldn’t have lost as many apprentices as I have.”
“How many were lost, exactly?” Okane piped up, looking ill.
“Eight, officially. Don’t look at me like that, some of them just quit.”
“You remember all their names, though. Like Hettie and Anselm,” Laura pointed out.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing at all.”
No point lingering on the people. Maybe Okane was right and Clae dwelled on these things too, just didn’t acknowledge it. If he couldn’t properly distance himself, how could she hope to? She didn’t know if this made her feel less like a failure or just more nauseous.
It was very quiet on the trek downstairs. Navigating the destruction of the hallway took a while but they managed, and from there on it was smooth sailing; physically, anyway. Clae kept looking around at the walls and ceiling, as if waiting for another monster to leap out at them.
“You’re not expecting more, are you?” Laura muttered.
“No.” Regardless, he cast a suspicious look at the closest doorway.
“Then what are you looking for?”
>
“This is the third one in two months that’s scarred its surroundings. Even without letters from other cities, I can tell they’re getting worse. Just wait until they work up into the spike, god knows how we’ll deal with that. Damn Rex and their goddamn idiots.” He continued to snarl profanities under his breath.
They exited the building without any obstacles. Outside, soldiers were armed with big lanterns. The flickering light made them look eerie, especially when they seemed ready to beat back whatever monster was in there.
“Sweeper!” The man from before strode out of the crowd. “Did you take care of the creature?”
“It’s dead.”
“Was it a unique specimen?”
“There were two. Two amulets, both infected, and the creatures inside acted as a single unit,” Clae explained. “They were in a mask. Dragging that around created the marks on the floor.”
“And they’re both accounted for?”
“Broke one, purified the other. We’ve got all the pieces with us.”
“I’m assuming the destruction of the building was part of your effort in breaking the first?”
Laura winced. She didn’t look up, reluctant to see the damage she caused. Clae didn’t bat an eye.
“Yes.”
The man looked very unhappy. “Is it clear for us to go in?”
“Yes. Just keep in mind, by the stairs to the fourth floor there’s going to be some pieces of wood from the mask. None of them are part of the amulet, I’ve made certain already. Beyond that, nothing.”
“Right. Be sure to catalogue the amulets properly.”
The man moved on, giving them no more attention as he handed out orders, and Clae glanced back.
“That’ll be our cue to leave. Come on, we’re heading back to the shop.”
The sun hadn’t risen, though the sky had brightened while they were inside. Laura would much rather go back home to sleep, but there was no time to get there before the time she’d have to get up anyway.
They passed flocks of military personnel on the way. Laura saw badges and patches that probably represented high ranks, but she didn’t pay much attention. A general could be on-site and she wouldn’t have known or cared. The military had always been a different world to her, so the distinctions and rankings escaped her. At the very edge of the crowd, though, stood a gaggle of people. They all wore the trainee uniform but these weren’t thrown on over pajamas. These people looked like they’d been awake and doing something: some had dirt smudged on their clothes and faces, others tears in their clothes. They all looked stunned.
“What happened?” one whispered to his neighbor. “I mean, why can’t we go to the barracks? Where are all the others? What’s with all the noise and the lights?”
“Didn’t you hear? There’s a monster in there,” his companion replied, and the boy reeled back.
“A monster? Like what, a canir?”
“No, the monster from the wilds!” the girl hissed. “It ate the people inside!”
“But monsters like that can’t get in here! The wall keeps them out!”
“It’s true! That’s what they’ve been saying anyway,” whispered another.
“No way.” The boy looked at the lights in horror. “They’re all dead?”
“A lot of them are.”
“Here I thought we got the bad end of the stick. Night watch, you know, I thought we’d be the ones running into the monsters. Thought we’d be more likely to get hurt. And here they were hit at home base? But it’s supposed to be safe here, right?”
The boy kept rambling, but the Sweepers passed him by and soon he was out of earshot.
14
CASTOFFS
The sun peeked over the horizon as they boarded their early-morning trolley. Laura couldn’t actually see it with all the buildings, but the sky brightened to pinks and yellows against the clouds. It was a myriad of subtle brightness that belonged somewhere on a painting; Laura would think it beautiful if she weren’t exhausted. In the barracks she’d been running on adrenaline and fear, but that had drained out of her system. She felt overwhelmingly tired, and she was feeling the pain from falling down. A simple glance showed she was bruising where she hit the stairs, and Okane wasn’t doing much better—a bruise of his own blossomed on one cheekbone.
She wished nothing more than to sit and relax in the Sweeper shop, but traffic had decided to spite them. While normally one of the fastest routes, Nestore Street was packed with idling automobiles bound for work. A truck had been transporting equipment and been involved in an accident; the logo for Sullivan Piping had been marred so badly by the scrape it was barely legible, and some equipment had fallen out. Men heaved the dropped pipes back into place, overseen by a man who looked far less like a worker and more like an executive in his low bowler hat and nondescript coat. Another man stood just beside him, head shaved bald; it must’ve been a new change, because he had the wide collar of his coat popped up to hide his features in lieu of hair. Automobiles rattled past, impatient and far too close to the straining workers, but the trolley was stuck on its line and couldn’t maneuver anywhere. The trolley driver grumbled and pulled the horn. The man in the bowler hat waved apologetically.
Clae’s eyes narrowed and he stood. Okane started.
“What are --- doing?” he hissed.
Clae didn’t reply but heaved open the window to lean out. Okane sank so low in his seat he looked ready to melt onto the floor.
“What’s going on?” Clae called.
“Slight accident,” the bowler hat man replied; the bald man turned away entirely. “Nothing more. We apologize for the delay. We’ll be out of your way shortly.”
“They’re not the actual Sullivans,” said Laura, tracking Okane’s slouch. “They’re just employees. They probably have no idea who you are.”
“They do.” Okane tilted his head just enough to peer out the window before ducking. “They’re not employees. They’re mobsters.”
Seriously? Laura tried peeking out too, but Clae shifted to block the pair from view.
“Where are you going?” he said.
“Interior.”
“For what?”
The bowler hat man gestured grandly at the truck. “Plumbing. The Council’s approved a new line.”
“Where, exactly?”
“Fifth Quarter?” The man shrugged. “Location’s been changed.”
The workers finally cleared the road. Traffic started moving again. The bowler hat man jammed the hat further on his head, so they couldn’t make out much of his features as they passed.
“Consider switching to Sullivan yourself, sir,” he cheered. “We’ll flush all your problems away!”
“More likely they’ll get it all stuck and back up the system,” Clae muttered, closing the window again.
“Why are mobsters out doing Sullivan work?” said Laura, craning her neck to see the disappearing truck. “I thought they were trying to kill him.”
“He works with them,” said Okane. “Supplies them with—” He looked ill and thought better of it. “Back in June he stiffed the Mad Dogs. They didn’t take kindly to it. They thought if they could catch some of the family or servants with infestations they could scare him into working with them again. But he didn’t even believe in infestations. He believed in the wall.”
“Did they steal his truck, then?” Laura guessed.
“I don’t think so. That man in the hat is a negotiator, not a thief. They must’ve struck a deal.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” said Clae. “I’m telephoning the police as soon as we get back.”
“What did Sullivan supply them with?” said Laura. “If it was only some wheels and scrap metal—”
“---’re aware of Sullivan’s humanitarian campaigns?” said Okane.
Laura nodded slowly. “He’s got boarding schools set up across the city, and gives college scholarships to lower-Quarter students. My neighbor qualified for one to get into university.”
“They don’t all make it to school. The lucky ones end up like me. The unlucky ones…” Okane shuddered.
Laura’s brow furrowed. Even Clae looked grim, so she was hesitant as she asked, “What happens to the unlucky ones?”
“Mobs deal in infestations,” said Clae. “To keep it happy and sated, you need to feed it something living.”
An unpleasant thought at any time, but on the tail end of an extermination it was twice as bad.
They trekked back to Acis Road, a dark cloud over their heads until someone caught them.
“You three look like you’ve been through a meat grinder.” Mrs. Keedler had been setting out the sign for her bakery. She looked at them all like a mother inspecting dirty children. “Where have you been? And what did you do to your face?”
Clae rubbed at his chin with the back of his hand. “Had a job. Busted lip.”
“No wonder you wanted bread this morning,” Mrs. Keedler muttered. “Are you sure you’re all right? I can give you a discount on some pastries if you want something else to eat.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” Laura chirped, raising her hand. “I’ve got some money with me. Not a lot, but what can ten argents get me?”
Argents, the money unit of Orien, consisted of silvery coins at varying sizes. The smallest unit, a one argent coin, was barely the size of a fingernail, but coins grew gradually larger in increments of tens, fifties, hundreds, until reaching the 1,000 Argent coin, which stretched almost an inch across. Laura had collected them before her collage due to the patterns on their backs—different based on the city and quarter they were first distributed in—but holding on to things with public value was difficult. It cost her ten argents for a pastry this morning.
She sat on a stool in the Sweeper shop to eat, watching lazily as Clae put away his briefcase and Okane went to linger by the back corner. The two of them tinkered with the Kin parts; Laura was a little bothered that Okane knew enough to fiddle with it that way, when all she knew to do was tighten some things if they got loose. Clae hadn’t bothered teaching her any more than that. She finished her pastries but couldn’t think of anything else to do. Her head fell forward a few times but jerked back up as she tried not to nod off entirely. She hoped it wasn’t too obvious, but Clae noticed.
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