Monsters of Men

by Patrick Ness

  And I can feel the buzz coming, feel it flailing about in the air–

  I’m sweating now, even in the cold–

  And I can see him sweating, too–

  Sweating and looking confused–

  He furrows his brow. “Todd?”

  And he says it in such a sad way, a way that sounds, I don’t know, betrayed, like I reached inside him and messed him about, that I almost stop right there. I almost stop concentrating, I almost stop reaching out to him–

  But only almost.

  “I’ll get her plenty of water,” he says, his eyes dazed. “I’ll get some right now.”

  And off he goes, back towards the water tank.

  I take a second to catch my breath.

  I did it.

  I did it again.

  And it felt good.

  It felt powerful.

  “Oh, help,” I whisper under my breath, and I’m shaking so hard I have to sit down.

  {VIOLA}

  I find Mistress Coyle in a small group of women near the healing tents, her back to me.

  “Hey!” I call, stomping over. My voice is very loud after what just happened with Lee, but I’m also feeling fainter than seems plausible and I wonder if I’m about to fall flat on my face.

  Mistress Coyle turns and I see three women with her. Mistress Nadari and Mistress Braithwaite, neither of whom have even bothered to say a word to me since the Answer came to the hilltop, but I’m not looking at them.

  I’m looking at Simone.

  “You should be in bed, my girl,” Mistress Coyle says.

  I glare at her. “You don’t just ask if I’m ready for something then walk off.”

  Mistress Coyle looks at the others, including Simone, who nods. “Very well, my girl. If you’re that committed to knowing.”

  I’m still breathing heavy and realizing from her tone that I’m probably not going to like this at all when she holds out her hand in a way that asks if she can take my arm. I don’t let her, but I go with her as she walks away from the healing tents, the other two mistresses and Simone walking behind us like bodyguards.

  “We’ve been working on a theory,” Mistress Coyle says.

  “We?” I say, looking again at Simone, who still says nothing.

  “One that makes more sense as the days go by, I’m afraid,” Mistress Coyle says.

  “Can you get to the point, please?” I say. “It’s been a long day and I don’t feel good.”

  She nods, once. “All right then, my girl.” She stops and faces me. “We’re starting to think that there may be no cure for the bands.”

  I put my hand up to my arm without thinking. “What?”

  “We’ve had them for decades,” she says. “We had them on Old World, for heaven’s sake, and of course there’ve been instances of cruelty or pranks when humans have been banded. But we couldn’t find a single other case, not even Simone in your very extensive database, of this sort of infection.”

  “But how–?”

  And then I stop. Because I realize what she’s hinting at.

  “You think the Mayor put something extra on them.”

  “It’d be a way for him to harm a huge number of women without anyone knowing the real agenda.”

  “But we would have heard,” I say. “With all the Noise of the men, there’d have been rumours–”

  “Think about it, my girl,” Mistress Coyle says. “Think about his history. Think about the extermination of the women in old Prentisstown.”

  “He says it was suicide,” I say, knowing how weak it sounds.

  “We’ve found chemicals even I can’t identify, Viola,” Simone says. “There’s real danger here. Real implications.”

  I get a sick feeling in my stomach at the way she says implications. “Since when have you been listening to the mistresses so closely?”

  “Since I found out you and all the banded women might be in real danger from that man,” she says.

  “You be careful,” I say. “She’s got a way of getting people to do what she wants.” I look at Mistress Coyle. “A way of getting people to sit in half-circles of judgment on the rest of us.”

  “My girl,” Mistress Coyle says, “I did not–”

  “What do you want with me?” I ask. “What do you want me to do about it?”

  Mistress Coyle sighs angrily. “We want to know if your Todd knows anything, if there’s something he’s not telling us.”

  I’m already shaking my head. “He would have told me. The second he saw it on my arm.”

  “But can he find out, my girl?” Her voice is taut. “Would he help us find out?”

  And it takes a moment to sink in. But when it does–

  “Oh, now I get it.”

  “Get what?” Mistress Coyle says.

  “You want a spy.” My voice gets stronger as I get madder. “It’s the same old tricks, isn’t it? The same old Mistress Coyle, looking for every edge to give yourself more power.”

  “No, my girl,” Mistress Coyle says. “We’ve found chemicals–”

  “You’re up to something,” I say. “All this time, refusing to tell me how you made the first truce, waiting for the Mayor to make his move, and now you’re trying to use Todd like you used–”

  “It’s fatal, my girl,” she says. “The infection is fatal.”

  [TODD]

  “The shame disappears, Todd,” the Mayor says, appearing behind me in that way he does as I watch James make his way thru the army camp to get Angharrad’s extra water.

  “You did this to me,” I say, still trembling. “You put it in my head and made me–”

  “I did no such thing,” he says. “I merely showed you the path. You walked down it all by yourself.”

  I don’t say nothing. Cuz I know it’s true.

  (but that hum I hear–)

  (that hum I pretend ain’t there–)

  “I’m not controlling you, Todd,” he says. “That was part of our agreement, which I’m keeping to. All that’s happened is you’ve found the power I’ve repeatedly said was in you. It’s desire, you see. You wanted it to happen. That’s the secret to it all.”

  “No, it ain’t,” I say. “Everyone’s got desire, but they don’t go round being able to control folks.”

  “That’s because the desire of most folks is to be told what to do.” He looks back across the square, covered in tents and soldiers and townsfolk all huddled together. “People say they want freedom, but what they really want is freedom from worry. If I take care of their problems, they don’t mind being told what to do.”

  “Some people,” I say. “Not everyone.”

  “No,” he says. “Not you. Which paradoxically makes you all the better at controlling others. There are two kinds of people in this world, Todd. Them.” He gestures at the army. “And us.”

  “Don’t you include me in no us.”

  But he just grins again. “Are you sure about that? I believe the Spackle are connected by their Noise, all bound up in one voice. What makes you think that men aren’t? What connects me and you, Todd, is that we know how to use that voice.”

  “I ain’t gonna be like you,” I say. “I ain’t never gonna be like you.”

  “No,” he says, his eyes flashing. “I think you’ll be better.”

  And then there’s a sudden pulse of light–

  Brighter than any electric light we’ve got anywhere–

  Blazing cross the square–

  As near the army as you can get without being in the middle of it–

  “The water tank,” the Mayor says, already moving. “They’ve attacked the water tank!”

  {VIOLA}

  “Fatal?” I say.

  “Four women so far,” Mistress Coyle says. “Another seven that won’t last the week. We’re keeping it quiet because we don’t want a panic.”

  “That’s only ten or so out of a thousand,” I say. “Ones who were weak and ill anyway–”

  “Are you willing to risk that belief on your
own life? On the life of every banded woman here? Even amputating their arms didn’t work, Viola. Does that seem like a normal infection to you?”

  “If you’re asking me if I believe you’d lie to get me to do exactly what you want, then what do you think my answer’s going to be?”

  Mistress Coyle takes a slow deep breath, like she’s trying to keep her temper. “I’m the best healer here, my girl,” she says, her voice fierce with feeling, “and I could not stop those women from dying.” Her eyes fall to the bandages on my arm. “I might not be able to stop it for anyone with a band.”

  I put my hand lightly to my arm again and feel the throb of it.

  “Viola,” Simone says quietly. “The women are really sick.”

  But no, I’m thinking. No–

  “You don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head. “This is how she works. She turns a small truth into a bigger lie to get you to do what she wants–”

  “Viola,” Mistress Coyle says–

  “No,” I say, louder, because I’m thinking more. “I can’t risk you being right, can I? If it’s a lie, it’s a clever one, because if I’m wrong, we all die, so yeah, okay, I’ll see what I can find out from Todd.”

  “Thank you,” Mistress Coyle says hotly.

  “But,” I say, “I will not ask him to spy for you and you will do something for me in return.”

  Mistress Coyle’s eyes light all over my face, seeing how much I mean it.

  “Do what?” she finally says.

  “You’ll quit putting me off and tell me, step by step, everything you did to make peace with the Spackle,” I say. “And then you’ll help me start the process up again. No more delays, no more waiting. We’ll start tomorrow.”

  I can see her brain working, crafting whatever advantage she can get out of this. “I’ll tell you what–”

  “No deals,” I say. “You do everything I ask or you get nothing.”

  There’s only the smallest of pauses this time. “Agreed.”

  And there’s a shout from the scout ship. Bradley’s running down the ramp, his Noise roaring. “Something’s happening in the town!”

  [TODD]

  We run towards the water tank, the soldiers in front of us parting to make way, even if their backs are turned–

  And I can hear the Mayor working in their heads, telling ’em to move, telling ’em to get outta his way–

  And as we get there, we can see it–

  The water tank is teetering–

  One leg has been nearly blown off, maybe even by one of those spinning fire things shot from close range, cuz sticky, white flames are spreading over the wood of the tank almost like liquid itself–

  And there are Spackle everywhere–

  Rifles are firing in all direkshuns and the Spackle are firing their white sticks and men are falling and Spackle are falling but that ain’t the worst problem–

  “THE FIRE!” the Mayor screams, hitting it inside the head of everyone standing round him. “GET THAT FIRE OUT!”

  And the men start to move–

  But then something goes wrong, something goes really wrong–

  Soldiers on the front line start dropping their rifles to get buckets of water–

  Soldiers who were in mid-fire, soldiers who were right next to Spackle–

  They just turn and leave like they’re suddenly blinded to the battle they were just fighting–

  But the Spackle ain’t blinded and men start dying in bigger numbers, not even looking at who’s killing ’em–

  WAIT! I hear the Mayor think. KEEP FIGHTING!

  But there’s some kind of catch in it now, and some soldiers who dropped their guns pick ’em up again but others just stand there sorta frozen, not knowing which to do–

  And then they fall to the ground, too, hit by Spackle weapons–

  And I see the Mayor’s face, see it nearly splitting with concentrayshun, trying to get some men to do one thing, other men to do another, and it’s all adding up to no one doing nothing and more men are dying and the water tank is gonna fall–

  “Mr President?!” Mr O’Hare yells, storming in with his rifle and almost immediately struck dumb by the Mayor’s messed-up control–

  And the Spackle see that the army’s confused, that we’re not doing what we should be doing, that only some soldiers are firing, but others are just standing there and we’re letting the fire spread to the foodstore–

  And I can feel it in the Spackle Noise, even if I don’t know the words, they’re smelling a victory bigger than they thought possible, maybe the final victory–

  And all the while, I ain’t frozen–

  I don’t know why but I’m the only one who don’t seem to be stuck under the Mayor’s control–

  Maybe he ain’t in my head after all–

  But I can’t stop to think about what that means–

  And I grab my rifle by the barrel and swing it hard right into the Mayor’s ear–

  He calls out and stumbles sideways–

  The soldiers nearby yell, too, as if someone punched ’em–

  The Mayor sinks to one knee, hand on his head, blood spilling twixt his fingers, a whine in the air coming from his Noise–

  But I’m already turning to Mr O’Hare and yelling, “Get a line of men firing, now, now, NOW!”

  And I’m feeling the buzz a bit but I don’t know if it’s my words working or if he sees what needs to be done but he’s already leaping and shouting to the soldiers nearest him to line up, to get their effing rifles in the air, to FIRE–

  And as the gunshots start ripping thru the air again and as the Spackle start falling again and moving back, tripping over themselves in the sudden change, I see Mr Tate running up to us and I don’t even let him open his mouth–

  “Put that fire OUT!” I yell.

  And he looks at the Mayor, still kneeling, still bleeding, and then he gives me a nod, and starts yelling at another group of soldiers to get buckets, to save our water and food–

  And the world is taking off all round us, screaming and yelling and tearing itself to pieces and there’s a line of soldiers now pressing forward, pushing the Spackle back from the water tank–

  And I’m standing over the Mayor, who’s kneeling there, holding his head, the blood seeping out all thick-like and I ain’t kneeling down next to him, I ain’t seeing if he’s all right, I ain’t doing nothing to help him.

  But I find I ain’t leaving him neither.

  “You hit me, Todd,” I hear him say, his voice as thick as his blood.

  “You needed to be hit, you idiot! You were gonna get everyone killed!”

  He looks up at that, his hand still to his head. “I was,” he says. “You were right to stop me.”

  “No effing kidding.”

  “But you did it, Todd,” the Mayor says, breathing heavy. “For a minute there, when the moment called for it. You were a leader of men.”

  And then the water tank collapses.

  {VIOLA}

  “There’s been a big attack,” Bradley says as we run towards him.

  “How big?” I say, reaching immediately for my comm.

  “There was a bright flash on one of the probes and then–”

  He stops because we hear another sound.

  Screaming at the edge of the forest.

  “What now?” Simone says.

  Voices rise at the line of trees, and we see people standing up from their campfires and more screams–

  And Lee–

  Lee–

  Stumbling out of the crowd–

  Covered in blood–

  Holding his hands to his face–

  “LEE!”

  And I’m running as fast as I can, though the fever’s slowing me down and I can’t catch my breath and Bradley and Mistress Coyle are running past me, and they’re grabbing Lee and laying him down on the ground, Mistress Coyle having to forcibly pull his hands away from his bloody face–

  And another voice screams in the crowd–
/>
  As we see–

  Lee’s eyes–

  They’re gone–

  Just gone–

  Burned away in a slash of blood–

  Burned away as if by acid–

  “Lee!” I say, kneeling down beside him. “Lee, can you hear me?”

  “Viola?” he says, reaching out with his bloody hands. “I can’t see you! I can’t see!”

  “I’m here!” I grab his hands, holding them tight. “I’m here!”

  “What happened, Lee?” Bradley says, low and calm. “Where’s the rest of the hunting party?”

  “They’re dead,” Lee says. “Oh, God, they’re dead. Magnus is dead.”

  And we know what he’s going to say next, know because we can see it in his Noise–

  “The Spackle,” Lee says. “The Spackle are coming.”

  [TODD]

  The legs of the tank give way and the huge metal container of water comes tumbling down, almost too slow to be real–

  It smashes to the ground, crushing at least one soldier underneath it–

  And every drop of water we had to drink comes rushing out in a solid wall–

  Heading right for us–

  The Mayor’s still wobbly on his feet, still woozy–

  “RUN!” I shout, sending it out in my Noise while grabbing a handful of the Mayor’s precious uniform and dragging him away–

  The wall of water slams up the street and into the square after us, knocking over soldiers and Spackle, sweeping up tents and beds in one great big soup–

  And it’s putting out the fire in the foodstore, but it’s putting it out with the last of our water–

  And I’m dragging the Mayor nearly on his heels, getting us outta the way, thru soldiers I’m shouting at to “MOVE!” as we near–

  And they do move–

  And we make it up the front steps of a house–

  And the water rushes past us, sloshing up after us to our knees, but rushing by and getting lower every second, sinking into the ground–

  Taking our future with it.

  And then almost as fast as it came, it’s gone, leaving a sopping square covered in mess and bodies of all sorts–