Monsters of Men

I frown. “Yet another lie–”

“But I was wrong about that, too, my girl. You would have come if it had taken a month. That’s how impressed I am with you. How you’ve survived, how you’ve kept yourself in a position to make a real impact, how you’re singlehandedly trying to win your peace.”

“Then help me,” I say.

She taps the door frame with the flat of her hand once or twice, as if still thinking.

“I’m just wondering, my girl,” she finally says. “Wondering if you’re ready.”

“Ready for what?”

But then she turns and leaves without another word.

“Ready for what?” I call after her, and then I swing myself out of bed, getting my feet to the floor and standing up–

And immediately falling right onto the other bed out of sheer dizziness.

I take a few deep breaths to make the world stop spi

Then I stand back up and set out after her.

[TODD]

The soldiers raise their rifles and start looking all round but the Spackle ROAR seems to be coming from everywhere, closing in fast from all direkshuns–

The Mayor’s got his own rifle up. I got mine, too, one hand on Angharrad to steady her, but there’s nothing to see, not yet–

And then a soldier down the road from us falls to the ground, screaming and grabbing at his chest–

“There!” shouts the Mayor–

As suddenly a whole platoon of Spackle, dozens of ’em, come blazing outta the woods down the road, shooting their white sticks at the soldiers, who start falling even as they’re firing back–

And the Mayor’s riding past me, shooting his gun and ducking under an arrow coming at him–

Boy colt! Angharrad is screaming and I’m wanting to ride her away, to get her outta this–

And there are Spackle falling everywhere under the firing of the rifles–

But as soon as one falls, there’s another right behind him–

FALL BACK! I hear in my Noise–

The Mayor, sending it out–

FALL BACK TO ME!

Not even yelling it, not even buzzing, just there, right in yer head–

And I see it–

Not believing it for a second–

All the soldiers left alive, about twelve now, move all together–

FALL BACK TO ME!

Like a herd of sheep moving from the bark of a dog–

EVERY MAN!

They move, still firing their guns, but coming backwards toward the Mayor, too, their feet even walking in the same rhythm, all those different men suddenly looking like the same man, like one man, climbing over the bodies of other soldiers like they ain’t even there–

TO ME!

TO ME!

And even I can feel my hands turning Angharrad’s reins to line up behind the Mayor–

Moving with the rest of ’em–

Boy colt!?

I curse myself and turn her away from the main fight–

But the soldiers are still coming, even as one and then another of ’em falls, here they come, now in two short rows, firing in unison–

And Spackle are dying in the gunfire, dropping to the ground–

And the men move back–

And Mr O’Hare’s come up next to me on his own horse, firing, too, in exact timing with the rest of ’em and I see a Spackle coming outta the woods nearest us, raising a white stick right at Mr O’Hare and–

GET DOWN! I think–

Think but don’t say–

And there’s a buzz from me to him, fast as anything–

And he gets down and the Spackle fires right over the top of him–

Mr O’Hare rises again and shoots the Spackle, then he turns back to me–

But instead of saying thanks, his eyes are full of white fury–

And then suddenly there’s silence–

The Spackle are gone. Not even so you can see ’em ru

And here are two rows of surviving soldiers standing in perfectly straight lines, rifles all held up exactly the same, all looking to the spot where the Spackle first came from, all waiting to shoot again–

All waiting for their next order from the Mayor.

I see his face, burning with concentrayshun and a fierceness it’s hard to even look at.

And I know what it means.

It means his control’s getting better.

Getting quicker and stronger and sharper.

(But so’s mine, I think, so’s mine)

“Indeed,” the Mayor says. “Indeed it is, Todd.”

And it takes me a second to realize that even tho my Noise was silent, he still heard me–

“Let’s get back to town, Todd,” he says, smiling for the first time in ages. “I think maybe it’s time I tried something new.”

{VIOLA}

“That’s terrific, Wilf,” I hear Bradley say as I exit the scout ship, looking all around for Mistress Coyle. Wilf is moving a cart with huge vats of fresh water into place near the ship, ready for distribution.

“Tain’t nothin,” Wilf says to Bradley. “Just doin what needs doin.”

“Glad someone is,” I hear behind me. It’s Lee, returning early from the day’s hunting party.

“Did you see which way Mistress Coyle went?” I ask him.

“Hello to you, too,” he laughs. He holds up the forest hens he’s carrying. “I’m saving the fattest one for us. Simone and the Humanitarian can have the small one.”

“Don’t call him that,” I say, frowning.

Lee looks over at Bradley, who’s heading back into the ship. The half-circle of people who sit by the bay doors and watch – bigger today – just mutter to each other, and in the Noise of the few men there, Ivan included, I hear it again, The Humanitarian.

“He’s trying to save us,” I say to them. “He’s trying to make it so all of the people coming can live here in peace. With the Spackle.”

“Yeah,” Ivan calls over. “And while he’s doing it, he doesn’t seem to notice that his weapons’d bring peace a hell of a lot faster than humanitarian efforts.”

“His humanitarian efforts could guarantee you a long life, Ivan,” I say. “And you should mind your own goddam business.”

“I do believe survival is our business,” Ivan says loudly, and there’s a woman next to him agreeing, a smug smile on her dirty face, and even though she looks ashen from the same fever I’ve got and wears the same band I wear, I still want to smack her and smack her and smack her so she never looks at me that way again.

But Lee’s already taking my arm and leading me away, around the scout ship to the far side by the engines, still off, still cool, but the one place on the hill where no one’s going to make a tent.

“Stupid, small-minded people–” I’m ranting.

“I’m sorry, Viola,” Lee says, “but I kind of agree with them.”

“Lee–”

“President Prentiss killed my mother and sister,” he says. “Anything we could do to help stop the Spackle and him is fine by me.”

“You’re as bad as Mistress Coyle,” I say. “And she tried to kill you.”

“I’m just saying, if we’ve got the weapons, we could show more strength–”

“And guarantee slaughter for years to come!”

He smirks a little, infuriatingly. “You sound like Bradley. He’s the only one around here who talks like that.”

“Yes, because a hilltop full of frightened and hungry people are really going to offer a rational–”

And then I stop because Lee’s just looking at me. Looking at my nose. I can tell, because I can see myself in his Noise, see me shouting and getting angry, see my nose wrinkling like it must do when I’m mad, see the warmth of his feelings around that wrinkle–

And in a flash, there’s a picture of him and me in his Noise, holding each other tight, no clothes anywhere, and I’m seeing the blond hairs on his chest that I’ve never seen in real life, the downy, soft, surprisingly thick hair that trails all the way down to his belly button and below and–

“Oh, crap,” he says, stepping back.

“Lee?” I say, but he’s already turning and walking away fast, his Noise flooding with bright yellow embarrassment and he’s saying, loud, “I’m going back to the hunting party,” and walking away even faster–