The Iron Swamp

by J V Wordsworth

  He shrugged. "Whatever you need to tell yourself."

  My fists clenched. He didn't have the courtesy of a fracking blood worm to numb its prey before it ate them. For the first time, I realized how different Rake and Lisbold were. Both of them were bullies and had earned my hatred, but I could see now that their motives were entirely different. To Rake, it was a joke. He bent my carded figure, not because he wanted to hurt me, but because he didn't understand how it would hurt me. It was a game to him, and my reaction to it was almost an irrelevance. It was only Lisbold who took pleasure from suffering. He hated himself, and his only release from the jealousy that ruled his every waking thought was spite.

  "Look, Lisbold," I said as he helped himself to another skewer. "We don't like each other, but it's in both our interests to solve this case, so how about we put all that behind us?"

  He regarded my outstretched hand for a click and then grabbed it, crushing my knuckle as he pulled me towards him. "Listen you tiny piece of dis, this is my opportunity not yours, and you're going to do everything in your power to make sure I get given the credit for solving this case."

  It was like being back in school when Fader and Colcheck used to follow me home pretending they were spy planes, smacking me on the head whenever they went past. A hundred memories flashed across my mind of children picking on me simply because I had no defenses against them.

  "Once I'm in the special police," he continued, "maybe I'll speak to someone about getting you in, but if you try to make this about you, I'll beat you to death with a shovel." He let go of my hand, allowing me to pull away. "That clear?"

  We weren't in school anymore. I wasn't a defenseless child, and Lisbold had no weapons with which to threaten me. If that was how he wanted to do this, then I would destroy him.

  I nodded while I conceived of what pit of knives I would place in front of the blind idiot. In his mind, we were still in an age where power was a reflection of physical strength, but that age hadn't existed for millennia. He probably thanked Cythuria for the luck that whispered a secret in his ear capable of getting him out of the pond and back in the sea again. But small fish didn't last long in the sea, not so close to monsters like Clazran and Vins. Lisbold was mine.

  "I'll see you tomorrow then," he said, and walked away.

  Far from suppressing my appetite, Lisbold had doubled it. I walked along the table taking food almost indiscriminately. It was all finger food, and I could empty my plate as quickly as I filled it. Half way down the table, I ate a slimy thing in a darkish kite shell which forced a momentary pause, but I washed the taste away with a piece of rare steak that melted in my mouth before I could chew it. That one was good enough for a second.

  "You look to be enjoying yourself," said a voice from behind. "What do you think of the floor?"

  It was stone, meant to make the palace look venerable, covered in an oval rug decorated with patterns of Kaeroshi soldiers fighting for independence from The Sodalis. Each battle had its own section, spreading from the center point out to each table. It was mockery to house such a rug in Clazran's palace. People died for this.

  The man smiled, apparently not expecting a response. "And how are those baby webble hearts?"

  I answered still with the delicious taste in my mouth. "Is that what they are?"

  He nodded, bowing so we were almost eye to eye. He was not much more than a head taller than me, wearing glasses with rims as thick as the eye pieces within. I hadn't seen glasses since I was a kid. Only the worst most incurable defects still demanded lenses, and most people who needed those either got implants or wore contacts. The thick, cyan rims made almost everything else about the man seem like background. Even his brown Kaeroshi dry-top and boots barely registered. "I'm Reggie Nealson, the Sodalian ambassador for Gys."

  I stopped shoveling food into my mouth. "You're a Guardian?"

  Nealson smiled. "I am, but be careful not to sound too reverent. Clazran won't like it if he sees you getting on with me."

  "Are there many Guardians here?" I asked, failing to take his advice. When The Kaerosh split from The Sodalis it kept the term Guardian for its political leaders, but the vice of the Kaeroshi fakes was only matched by the integrity of their Sodalian counterparts.

  "Sadly, I am the only one." He waited for me to respond, but for the second time this evening my neurons were firing duds. "Clazran invites me because he likes making me watch people eat this stuff. I declined his invitation once, and I was banned from all official meetings for a month. They nearly had to replace me."

  "I don't really know what most of this is," I said. "If I'd known I was eating the hearts of endangered animals, I wouldn't have."

  "You must," he said. "Your every action tonight is being recorded and assessed. Take one now and eat it in front of me."

  I did as he asked, and found it difficult to be sorry about it. "You seem sure enough they aren't recording this conversation."

  "No." Nealson patted his breast. "They are, but I have a scrambler. All they are hearing now from any listening device in a three met radius is static. I use one every time; it is nothing to worry about."

  "Fair enough," I said, suddenly aware that Lisbold's conversation had been recorded. Everything he'd said made him sound completely useless. The idiot didn't even need me to bring him down. He was going to do it all on his own. "So why don't the other Guardians object to eating these meats?"

  "Oh they do, they were just smarter about hiding it than I was. I'm a vegetarian, and that made things more difficult."

  I nodded. I was too busy eating to notice that there were no vegetarian dishes. "But surely you aren't the only vegetarian in the room?"

  He gave a wry smile. "I think probably the majority of the people in the room are vegetarians. It's Clazran's sense of humor to fill a banquet full of expensive food that no one can eat, but we don't need to waste any more time discussing the food.

  "It was a brave thing you did standing up to the Commissioner, and I understand it wasn't the first time. If you were born in The Sodalis, you might be a Guardian yourself."

  I snorted. Sodalian Guardians were selected by the most rigorous assessment for moral fortitude in Cos. Since the formation of the government, there had not been a single Guardian to abuse their power, and it was said that the exam used Rathjarin theurgy that made it impossible to cheat. Five cycles distant, the suggestion that I might have been accepted into such an elite would have been a source of pride, but not now. It was too far from the truth even to flatter me. "I only handed that report in because Fache forced me."

  "Oh no," Nealson shook his head. "You had other options. You could have gone to the Commissioner and told him about Fache. The good doctor would have disappeared, and you would have been elevated."

  I wasn't sure how he knew so much about it, but Guardians were legendary for their intellect. "And not getting a man killed for trying to do the right thing makes me fit to be a Guardian?"

  Nealson adjusted his huge glasses. "Not quite, but a lot of men in your situation would have taken the other option."

  I didn't doubt it. Lisbold walked by close enough to fill me with fresh revulsion. He was wearing some deodorant or perfume that smelled like honey, now forever ruined for me.

  Nealson watched him go by. "I'm not so keen on your new partner."

  "Me neither. Rake was his friend," I said, and added "and a good man." I remembered the women in the truck that he called dyke bitches. Really he was a bad man who cared deeply about one good thing, but it didn't do any harm to say.

  "Really?" Nealson said. "Most people with his background don't end up like that."

  "What sort of background?" I asked, before I could stop myself.

  "Parental abuse. His mother called the police a few times, but seeing as the father was high up in the police force nothing ever got done."

  "He was raped?"

  Nealson raised an eyebrow. "Don't think so. The reports were only ever about violence. His mother was hospitalized a coup
le of times, but he and his sister seemed ok."

  That explained little. It was definitely rape that Rake reacted to so strongly.

  "Anyway, I came to talk to you for a reason," Nealson said. "No one else is going to tell you this, but I think you need to know. Vins has escaped."

  My fingers went numb, and I dropped the plate. It was worse than being told Lisbold was my long lost brother. Nealson caught it before it smashed on the ground, but not before I decorated the Battle of Thrix with shells, skewers, and various condiments.

  "Sorry," Nealson said. "I should have given you more warning. Clazran is too embarrassed about it to make it public knowledge, but I don't think you are in danger. Vins has more to worry about than killing you, but if he does try something, he won't expect you to know he's free, so you have that advantage."

  I could feel sweat moistening my suit at the armpits. "And the woman who tried to kill me?"

  "As far as I know, she is still in the hospital."

  She scared me more than Vins. I was putting thoughts in her head, but it felt as though she had a stronger motive to want to kill me. I would have preferred to hear that she was locked up or dead, but attached to a ventilator under guard was a solid third.

  "You should go tell Lisbold now that I told you Vins is loose. It is the best explanation for why you dropped your plate. Otherwise, they'll be curious. And trust me, you don't want that." He offered me his hand again, and said, "Pause before you shake it."

  The prospect of having to talk to Lisbold again was about as appealing as shaving my neck with a chainsaw, but Nealson was right. I found him just as a couple were walking away from a joke that had obviously offended them. He glared after them, half chuckling, half irritated. "What do you want short ass?"

  "Vins escaped. The Guardian told me. We need to be careful."

  "You need to be careful. He doesn't care dis about me."

  Most likely he was right, but I had no incentive to tell him so. "You're not thinking clearly. If it weren't for you betraying Rake no one would have even looked at my report, and Rake is Vins' nephew."

  He ignored the pair of tongs at the side of a bowl and grabbed a handful of squishy cylindrical animals, unloading them onto his plate. "I did my duty to the President. I didn't betray anyone."

  This was my chance to make him look useless. "Either way, you need me to complete this case. Even if you have the ability to do it on your own, you're too lazy."

  He tilted his head backward and dropped a few of the animals into his mouth. "You're probably right there."

  I had to scrunch up my mouth to avoid smiling. If Clazran got to hear the gist of our conversation, Lisbold would be kicked off the case. "Fine," I said in my best irritated voice, "be about as useful as a wrist strap for an armless man." I walked off resisting the urge to wink at Nealson who was watching from a distance. I had to hope that no one else at the party said anything more important that might overshadow that Lisbold was useless.

  I spent the rest of the party bent over a table picking at the less filling items. A few of my enemies had fallen away, but I wasn't safe yet. I was now working a case that the SP had been working on for weeks while I drank myself to death. Usually cases went as stale as an open beer in the hot sun after that long. Adding to that a partnership with Lisbold, and they might as well have asked me to find a lost fingernail in the Gargantua.

  The feeling did little to affect my appetite. The food was as addictive as heroin. When dinner was finally over, I had eaten half the endangered species in Cos, and my stomach was stretching as though I'd eaten a boulder. I told Pollo I would prefer to go home, and a JC arrived to take me. Mercifully, he did not accompany me, which aside from a severe stomach pain, made the journey pass more quickly.

  I swiped my tablet over the locks, and the door unfastened. Lola squeezed through the gap desperate to meet me. She ran around my legs brushing against them in worried affection. She was cooped up for so long that my return triggered an explosion of energy, and she ran back and forth around my feet even though she must have been starving.

  I thought about giving her a couple of extra portions of food but decided against it. While Lola was undeniably intelligent, she carried the same evolutionary defect of all dogs that caused them to eat until they exploded – although the bloating and aching of my own gut suggested I was not immune to this folly.

  I sat down on the sofa for a few minutes building up the energy to take her for a walk, while looking for a single item she hadn't chewed in my absence.

  *

  I checked my messages on the way to the station. There must have been about a hundred requests for interviews from various journalists, talk show hosts, and their staff. It seemed easier to delete them all without reading a word of them.

  Lisbold was waiting for me in the foyer, his straw hair visible again now his pillow had unstuck a few strands from his head. "We've got a meeting with the new Commissioner."

  "When?"

  "Ten minutes ago."

  We got into the elevator, and I pressed the button for the sixth floor. "Good night sleep?"

  "I ate too much."

  "Me too."

  The door opened, and I stepped out. Lisbold overtook me almost instantly, and we both walked up to the secretary's desk.

  "You can go right in," she said.

  "Thanks, honey," said Lisbold, in a voice laced with sweetness.

  He walked in ahead of me, deliberately obstructing my attempt to step along side. "Sorry we're late, sir. I was waiting for Nidess."

  "Apologies," I said, "I wasn't feeling too well this morning."

  "Have a seat." The new man, whom I should definitely have researched last night, was taller than Figuel and had a tattoo that was just visible out the top of his dry-top. Otherwise, the two could have been twins. They both had the same paunch and brushed their fringe over to the left side revealing an extended widow's peak on the other. Somehow, I knew this was another member of the Figuel family.

  Fache was already seated in a third chair looking as if he'd been diagnosed with terminal illness. The office was huge, and the entire back wall was a window overlooking the city. Off to the left were the Almori Peaks and the colossal skyscrapers that went nearly as high. To the right was Foldorei Hospital, the only building for tens of kims that climbed as high as the Police HQ. The floor of the office was empty except for a rectangle of desks at the back where the Commissioner sat, each containing its own cluster of network screens, and a small selection of gym equipment sitting at the entrance. No running machine or cross trainer for endurance, just three different weight machines. Although he was by no means spindly, neither was there much evidence that he ever used them.

  He didn't introduce himself. "Both of you have gone straight from basement washout to lead investigator." There was a little silver model of a rifle on his desk, facing where I sat. "You may not know this, but Commissioner Figuel and Lisidia Vins were both my cousins, and Philip Rake was my nephew." He smiled at Lisbold as he added this. "But please don't think for a moment that I will hold this against you three. What you did was brave, and I am not about to repeat my family's mistakes."

  I grimaced. It was like a labyrinth where every corner hid some new member of the Figuel family. "With respect, sir, all I did was submit a report on the Kenrey case. The rest of it all went on while I was trying to drink myself to death on my sofa."

  The Commissioner's face sagged. "I don't want your excuses. I told you I don't hold it against you, and I find it insulting that the next words out of your mouth follow the assumption that I'm lying. Not to mention the description of your home life, which is extremely inappropriate." He stood, thrusting his chair back into the desk behind him. "This police force is undergoing a metamorphosis. There will be no more of the corruption and nepotism that has preceded me."

  I wasn't sure whether he meant the same nepotism that elevated him to the position in the first place, but I assumed not.

  "I'm looking to axe the dead woo
d around this place quickly," he continued, "and make a more efficient force. Currently, I am unconvinced that any one of you are capable of the jobs you hold, and unless you find me Kenrey's killer fast, you will be out on your asses with the first mistake you make."

  The new Commissioner was going to be no friend to me, but then when had I ever had friends? Whoever replaced him would have found some reason to dislike me. "I have one question," I said, dismissing his threats.

  His eyes drooped as if he was watching me try and insert a square key in a round hole. "What is it?"

  "During my extended absence, have the SP come up with anything we could use in the case?" They weren't going to give it to me unless I asked. Probably, they weren't going to give it to me anyway.

  "Peti was initially ruled out by the SP along similar lines as your own, but they reverted when my cousin went to Clazran. He used to have weight with the President before..." The Commissioner trailed off. "So anyway, Reens chimed in and said Peti was their prime suspect as well. Since then, for all I know the frackers have been as drunk as you. Now get out."

  The three of us shuffled to the exit, only to have him call for me to stay behind. Fache glanced at me on his way out the door, warning blazing from his eyes.

  "A drunken fool you might be, Nidess, but you're my best hope of solving this case. So if you need anything, you ask. You want an assistant then hire one. Money, officers, cameras, whatever, it's yours. But if you frak this up, or the SP get there first, then there will be nothing left of you for me to sack." He grimaced and waved for me to follow the others, which I needed no incentive to obey.

  Lisbold was outside with his head in his hands, squatted against the wall. "We're fracked."

  Fache looked equally dejected. "Of all the candidates for that post, how did he get it?"

  "Perhaps," I said, "we are the only members of this police force who aren't members of the Figuel family."

  Lisbold stood again, his face burning with disappointment. "While he's in charge, this place is going to be Cythuria for us. He won't even have to ask. Everyone will assume it's what he wants anyway."