On the Razor's Edge

by Michael Flynn

  Bridget ban skidded to a halt behind Geshler Padaborn. Her eyes danced one to the other, took in the scene, understood it. She held her teaser on the Secret Name. A teaser, thought Donovan, with a tinge of the contempt that Shadows felt. The Hounds would always be one notch less deadly.

  “To me, Méarana,” said Bridget ban.

  “Father rescued me…”

  “That was nice, considering he was the whole reason you needed rescuing.”

  Geshler Padaborn cocked an eyebrow. He hadn’t known that part, Donovan saw. He was thinking now how he might use this new fact.

  Padaborn smiled. Inner Child started.

  Padaborn spasmed and collapsed where he stood. Donovan swung to the new target.

  And saw Gidula with dazer in hand.

  “Oh!” said Gidula with sentimental affect. “The whole loving family.” He twisted the aperture to wide sweep, fatal range. The recharger hummed.

  Donovan stepped in front of Méarana Harper, but Gidula’s aim was spoiled and the beam went wide.

  What spoiled Gidula’s aim was the abrupt drop of Ravn Olafsdottr through the ceiling and onto his back. She rode him for a moment as a man might ride an unbroken horse. But she pulled on the reins and his head reared back and he choked. The Old One threw himself back against the wall to crush Ravn, but she maintained a hard grip.

  Gidula began to bleed from the neck and the garotte bit into his flesh. He fell backward to the floor, pinning Ravn beneath him, and still her choke hold did not slacken. His legs began to kick spasmodically, increasing in tempo. Then they were still.

  The corridor remained prone for a time; the acrid odors of electrical discharge, hanging in a thin, smoky fume, tinctured the air. The silence grew loud.

  Gidula was the first to move.

  His chest heaved with the sound of a pellet-gun discharge, and something emerged from the rib cage to embed itself in the corridor wall. He rolled aside.

  “Ooh,” said Ravn Olafsdottr. “That was joost to make sure.” Then the perpetual smile faded and she struggled to her knees beside the corpse of the Old One, and she wept uncontrollably into her hands.

  * * *

  The fighting around the fane had started well enough, with death flitting through corridors on the run, emerging from unexpected corners, exploding where least expected; but the attackers had rallied and had driven the defenders back on the fane itself and matters had devolved into a gunfight.

  Gwillgi, Eglay, and Three were wounded. Two Padaborn was dead. But the attackers had been pruned very nicely. The last two trident magpies were dead, and Phoythaw had only two crows and one comet remaining in his force. Aynia, wounded to begin with, had withdrawn from the fight, though three of his four magpies continued to fire on the defenders. Pyati and One defended the door of the fane and Matilda and Greystroke were in isolated siege at their two corners unable to reach them.

  “Low on pellets,” One reported, “and my recharger is almost dead.”

  “Knife never runs dry,” Pyati told him.

  “Yes,” the magpie responded, “but it lacks something in range.”

  “Here.” Gwillgi tossed his own gun to One Padaborn. “You point the barrel at what you want to hit, and press that button twice in quick succession.”

  The magpie’s lips quirked, and Gwillgi said to Pyati, “Ay! I wish I hadn’t used my medipack on Domino Tight that time in Cambertown, because I certainly could use it now.”

  Pyati spared him a glance. “Maybe so, but had you not saved him we might not be fighting here together.”

  “Was that supposed to convince me I’d done the right thing? Never mind. I would do it again, for the same reasons I gave Domino.”

  A flurry of discharges sounded down the hallway. “Bad aim,” said Pyati. “No hits here.”

  “Maybe they shifted their strength to Greystroke or Matilda,” Gwillgi suggested. “Keep us pinned down while they overwhelm those two.”

  “This fane had better be worth defending,” said Pyati.

  “Donovan has not come back,” Gwillgi pointed out. “Nor Bridget ban. And where’s your Ravn? They could double our strength.”

  “Then, bigger massacre,” said Pyati. “Nice. Lord Padaborn did not ‘bug out’ on me, so I stand where he told me to stand.”

  One, listening, nodded. “We are not like Hounds. We can defend a hopeless position.”

  “Braggart,” grunted Gwillgi. He pulled himself up to the barricade they had made of the office furniture. They had built such barricades in several offices on the approaches to the fane, at points that might interdict an attacking party, forcing Phoythaw and Aynia to pause and check each one, lest ambush lurk behind it. What normally lurked was an explosive device, but they had quickly learned to detonate those remotely.

  “Someone’s coming!” said One.

  They all heard it. A regular thumping from the west hallway, where Phoythaw’s force lurked. The snap of a teaser interrupted the thumping briefly, then it continued. A darker figure loomed in the dark hallway and struck the floor three times with a tall wooden staff. Taijis swarmed in the background.

  “Cease and desist!” the Long Tall One said. “This pasdarm is suspended!”

  Pyati groaned. “Is Ekadrina Sèanmazy with reinforcements.”

  “More coming from the east,” said Gwillgi.

  “Black horses,” said One. “And us caught in between.”

  Ekadrina stepped aside and Tina Zhi passed through the ranks of taijis, bearing the body of Domino Tight on a gravity cart. “I would enter the fane as high priestess of the Seven Widows,” she said.

  “What she means,” said Oschous Dee Karnatika, “is don’t shoot. The Riff of District Twenty-seven has declared a Peace. The Secret City is under martial law, and all are to lay down their arms. Where is Geshler Padaborn?”

  A portion of the ceiling fell onto the mezzanine and two dozen guns—taijis, black horses, and Padaborn’s defenders—were instantly leveled at the spot. Ravn Olafsdottr’s face appeared in the gap.

  “Peekaboo!” she said.

  AN CRÍOCH

  I heard the forester cut a tree, giving thanks for his security.

  “What need,” said he, “for pillars, or for pommels bright,

  Or walls festooned with art? Why should I fear betrayal hid

  Behind flash-friendly teeth? Why fear the goblet tinctured

  With a comrade’s venom? I need not bow nor bend the knee

  Because no gift beguiles me; but work holds me in liberty.

  Dressed not in robes or shenmat grim, I gain the greater joy

  From what my hands and mind employ.

  By night, do I sleep well content

  While lords see all their powers end.”

  In the first place, they gathered in the fane on furniture scavenged from the nearby offices. Ekadrina Sèanmazy and Oschous Dee Karnatika sat side by side on float-chairs obviously intended to demonstrate their collegial rule. Their magpies, staged alternately, encircled the room. One of the black horses had proven to be Greystroke, who had used his anycloth to blend in with them up to point when they counted noses. Of Matilda of the Night there was no sign.

  Three more chairs, ground propped, had been set facing the two senior Shadows, and in these sat Donovan buigh, Bridget ban, and Méarana Harper, still twitching a little from the penumbra of Gidula’s dazer. Méarana had been shielded from the worst of it by Donovan’s body. He lolled in the seat, but his open left eye showed that some part of him was active.

  Gwillgi, Three, and the other wounded lay on pallets with medipacs or their Confederal equivalent, at least until they could be transported to an autoclinic. Two of Ekadrina’s magpies had brought in Little Hugh on a gravity cart. He was white from loss of blood but still clinging to the edge of life. On another pallet lay Graceful Bintsaif. A Riff’s magpie with the death’s-head brassard of a medic attended to them.

  “So,” said Ekadrina, taking the lead. “What mess have we here? Hounds in d
a Secret City! Not just one, but fife, and I suspect udders left to guard your line of retreat. Dat is not good. A violation of de Treaty, I t’ink.”

  Bridget ban tried to answer, but her tongue would not cooperate and all that emerged were “aws” and “ahs.” Ekadrina nodded and said, “Cogently argued.”

  Greystroke spoke up. “We came to rescue her daughter—who had been kidnapped on the orders of your renegade Gidula.”

  “Ack, he was not my renegade.” Ekadrina turned to Oschous. “Yours, I tink.”

  The Fox smiled. “I have never seen a play of so many sides against so many others. Had I not been one of the sides being played, I would have admired the Old One’s balance. He played both you and me for fools, Tall One. We both wanted the same thing, but fought on different sides to achieve it.”

  “Ya, I luff you, too. I fought from loyalty to da Names. It’s what we are: da Shadows of da Names. Don’t suppose de reforms of da Committee had anyt’ing to do widdit.” She turned to face the captives. “So dis is our problem. What do we do wid you? Normally, dose like Padaborn and his magpies and his allies would be moved, as traitors to da Names. Except none of you assassinated any Names tonight. But den, for consistency, I would need to move my pardner, too.” She tossed her head toward Oschous Dee. “And dat would be an inauspicious beginning of our pardnership. And if I moved you Peripheral dogs, dat might make problems wid de League, and as you might guess, we are not well positioned to deal wid de League just now. And you, poor lamb…” She addressed the harper. “You are da innocent caught up in madders beyond your ken. For people like you, we have da folk saying: ‘Too stupid to live,’ and normally we would accommodate dat, too. But nuttin’ today is normal.”

  “We start today with a clean slate,” said Oschous Dee. “We’ll build a new world, more efficient than the old, better shepherds to the sheep. I own some responsibility for dragging the former agent Donovan buigh from his retirement and forcing him into the Shadow War. All that he did after was for his own survival, and I can’t blame a man for that.”

  “So we are agreed,” said Ekadrina in a tone that indicated agreement ran not very deep. She, at least, her earlier glance had shown, was not about to build a new world. She intended to rebuild the old. But that meant restoring the surviving Committee to their offices, and so while their motives might differ, she and Oschous for the time shared a common purpose.

  Donovan struggled toward the surface of his body. The Silky Voice sent soothing molecules to stroke his unhappy nerves, to calm his agitated muscles. “An easy comfort, no?” he said, and all eyes turned to him in surprise.

  “I take no comfort in what lies outside dese walls,” said Ekadrina. “Nor in what lies inside.”

  “You think the old system will collapse at last, and all the abuses, all the flouted traditions, all the small imperial impositions, they’ll all be swept away. You’ll build something new.”

  Oschous Dee nodded—so did Pyati and the wounded Eglay Portion. Ekadrina sat still but said, “We will purge da corruptions. Dat was Gidula’s dream, too, before his fears seduced him.”

  “But if everyone has become so habitually wolves or sheep that the collapse must come, you will carry those same habits into the new world, too. People whose most forgotten ancestors were sheep will not become on the instant self-reliant beavers. Your new world will be built by those who have known only the old. You’ve been given a clean slate, you say? But what you have just erased was written by you, or people like you. What makes you think the new script will be any different?”

  “That is why,” whispered Eglay Portion, “we need you to lead us.”

  Rolling boulders uphill was not high on Donovan’s list of priorities. By the looks on their faces, neither were Ekadrina and Oschous delighted by the suggestion.

  “My needs are simple; my wants are few,” the Fudir said. “When I bought my ticket a year and a half ago, I intended to visit friends on Dangchao Waypoint. That is still my goal, and has always been.”

  Ekadrina Sèanmazy struck the floor with her staff. “Den hear our ruling as joint custodians of whatever it is dat we are joint custodians of. Da agents of de League will be repatriated wid our t’anks for defending da Gayshot Bo from de renegade Gidula. Dis was above and beyond your call to duty—is dat how you say it? Call to duty?—which was merely to rescue a kidnapped citizen. Eglay, Ravn, and da magpies Padaborn. You cast your lot wid Donovan buigh. So be it. You will be exiled wid him into de League. Aynia, you should have remained loyal to me. But unlike da late Phoythaw Bhatvik, you surrendered when called upon. I will grant da confusion of da past day. So your motion is remitted to exile Coreside. You will be sent to a new world, dere to found a new colony. Dere.” She brushed her hands. “All cleared up. All set right.”

  “Deadly One,” said Gwillgi, whose strength was returning. “What of Domino Tight? He and I are gozhiinyaw. Will he come with us?”

  “From my point of view,” said Oschous, “he remained loyal to the Revolution when even Big Jacques was seduced by the renegade Gidula.”

  “Is dat a recommendation?” said Ekadrina.

  “You could name him liaison between the Lion’s Mouth and the Kennel,” Gwillgi pointed out. “If you are to begin anew, that is a new thing you may try.”

  “Deadly Ones,” said the scarred man, “the fate of Domino Tight may be out of your hands. The Technical Name took him below for healing. And she has been down there a long time.”

  “Yes,” said Bridget ban, who rose unsteadily from her chair. “How long for this accelerated healer to restore someone?”

  “My sweet Domino,” said Ravn, “was closer to death than any man on this side of it.”

  Gwillgi shook his head. “He was closer in Cambertown—yet fought at the warehouse.”

  Ekadrina pulled her chin. “If de reins of da Confederation are in our hands now, we ought to know what is down dere.”

  The Fudir said, “She swore that no one outside the College would ever see them.”

  Oschous rose from his seat. “There is a new order in the world.”

  An intuition struck Bridget ban and she seized her daughter’s hand and went swiftly to the fane’s door. Donovan followed her, pausing to activate Little Hugh’s pallet and pull it with him. Ravn and Greystroke did the same with Gwillgi and Graceful Bintsaif. Pyati and One pulled Three outside to the mezzanine. Ekadrina watched them, glanced at the colored tile that Tina Zhi had used to open the secret entrance, and within moments the fane had cleared.

  Oschous exited last. “We will all feel foolish if nothing happens.”

  The floor of the fane buckled and sagged, and a moment later the sound of an explosion reached them.

  Ekadrina leaned on her staff and contemplated the wreckage. “Dat’s good,” she said. “I hate to feel foolish.”

  * * *

  In the second place, they gathered in the Cache.

  The room was a shambles; the seven vaults, empty. In one, they found Matilda of the Night. No one asked how she had followed Tina Zhi into the Cache while everyone had been watching. Ekadrina rolled her eyes. “Am I to find a Hound behind every potted plant and curtain?”

  Matilda was bleeding from her nose and ears. Though the vault had sheltered her somewhat, the concussion of the explosion had thrown her against the back wall. “Recognized me,” she gasped. “Should … have expected. Took … Vestiges. Leapt.”

  Ekadrina looked to the scarred man and Bridget ban. “Da Amnesty holds. Take her up.” Donovan called up to Pyati and his magpies to bring down yet another gravity pallet. Ekadrina took Bridget ban by the arm. “So, de Vestiges are gone; and you have seen all dere is to see, which is nutting. I would not take da fruits from da laborer’s mouth; but whatever your Matilda recorded, a copy would be appreciated.” When Bridget ban hesitated, Ekadrina added, “Dey were ours to begin wit.’”

  “Is justice now one of your watchwords?”

  Ekadrina shrugged. “I always t’ought it one of yours.”

/>   “I doubt there be muckle useful even in full-spectrum scans. But if she took any records, you will have them. Call it a gesture of amity for this day.”

  Donovan had been so preternaturally silent that Bridget ban glanced in his direction. “Why not round up the Vestigial Virgins for a cup of coffee? Even some of the office sheep may know something.”

  Ekadrina tilted her head back. “You t’ink any of dem are coming back after dis? Dey will vanish into de sheep pens. Too many records destroyed dis day. We will search for de Virgins; but I t’ink Tina Zhi will pluck dem to her personal planet long before we find dem, and what man knows where dat is?”

  “It’s a big Spiral Arm,” agreed Donovan buigh.

  * * *

  In the third place, they gathered in Grimpen’s ship. The cutter had been left in Dao Chetty orbit in charge of Obligado, marked with suitably official-looking Confederal identifiers. Matilda of the Night had been using a small two-man craft expropriated somewhere in the Confederation. They left it behind, taking from it only its medical supplies, food stock, and the body of Cŵn Annwn. The old Sèan Beta still lay under Mount Lefn.

  The ship was more crowded than she was wont, but Little Hugh, Graceful Bintsaif, and Matilda of the Night took up very little room. They occupied three of the four autoclinics. Gwillgi and Three Padaborn, less seriously wounded, took turns in the fourth.

  The scarred man went to the clinic and sat with Little Hugh for a while, carrying on a one-sided conversation. “You didn’t have to stay,” he told the comatose man. “You could have taken Méarana forcibly and departed before Gidula entered the building.” He remembered how he had cold-conked Hugh on the front stoop of a Chel’veckistad tenement and run off alone to secure January’s Dancer. “I’m sorry I got you into any of this.” He hesitated. “Do you remember when you told me of your childhood, and I never answered?” Little Hugh said nothing and the machine continued to breathe for him. “I wasn’t being secretive. I had no memories of it, none at all. But now that I remember my name, other scraps may follow.”