Jandra slept over at my place that night. I insisted on it. I could see the cravings sink their claws deeper and deeper into her – her worsening skittishness, her nervous chain-smoking. I was wracked by the same chemical need, and it was difficult enough for me to resist. Solitude would do neither of us any good right now.
She tried to put a brave face on it, smiling through her shakes and cracking painfully forced jokes on the drive home. She even had the fortitude to help me clear out my personal stash. I had months’ worth of stay-awake hidden in the apartment, bottles and plastic wraps in every room, on top of cocaine, methoxetamine, liquid-form psilocybin, and a wealth of pharmaceuticals from the Icebox techs. It all had to go, or else we would find ourselves rising in the night to dose up, no matter what we’d vowed in the daylight. These early days would be the hardest. I couldn’t leave us the option of relapsing.
We poured and drained and flushed it all away. It was almost physically painful to watch. The crutch that had kept the darkness from my door for half my adult life was gone.
But, deeper down, beneath the mindless animal craving for dopamine and oblivion, there was something else. A spark, a flame, the faintest flicker of pride and self-respect, that somehow hadn’t been entirely drowned.
“Can you promise me that you won’t buy any more?” Jandra asked, as we curled up in bed together, watching the last fading glow of sunset to the east. She held my hand tightly in her trembling fingers, leaning her head on my shoulder. “This has to be the last of it, for both of us.”
I kissed her hair. “I promise. I’ve hardly got any money left for it, anyway.”
“Almighty, when I think how much we’ve spent on it over the years…” She gave a bitter chuckle. “Every time I tried to save up for a flight out to Tletora or the Bay of Ralka, I ended up pissing it away on more fucking stay-awake. Another six months, I’d probably have been pawning off my jewellery.”
Indeleon may not have another six months. Or six days, for that matter, I thought. “I wouldn’t have let you get to that point.”
“But I would have. That’s what scares me,” Jandra said. She gripped my hand even tighter, like it might otherwise slip from her grasp. “I was going to let it eat up my whole life, Evaris. Remkou never set out to become a junkie. It crept up on him, one pill at a time.”
“It wasn’t just the drug that did for Remkou,” I replied. “He was already crumbling when I first met him. Broken, in more ways than one.”
Jandra turned her head to gaze up at me. Her soft breath warmed my bare chest. “And we aren’t?”
I squeezed her hand. “Everyone is. That doesn’t mean we’re beyond saving.”
She seemed to accept that, hollow confidence though it was. Snuggling herself closer to me, she entwined one naked leg with mine, her toes brushing my ankle. “Those kids in Saldein Heights,” she murmured. “Are they beyond saving, do you think?”
It wasn’t something I particularly wanted to think about. We’d handed the contraband cases in at the precinct at the end of our patrol. Just as I’d predicted, Orczin – who spared us barely thirty seconds of his time, amid his endless harried phone calls – told us the Inspectorate would take it from there. We didn’t say a word about the children.
“I hope not,” I replied. “They’ve gotten themselves tangled up in some seriously bad shit. The lead I followed up the other day told me the dissident network has more killings planned. The Interior Ministry will sweep the city from top to bottom in response. Kids their age might slip the net, if they’re very lucky and nobody informs on them.”
“He Above.” Jandra shook her head gently. “I can’t understand how anyone could do that. To use children. Like they’re cartridges in a gun, to be fired off, expended.”
“There’s nothing sacred to people like that. The way they see it, they’re fighting a war.” I thought of the train platform at Harranthaen, and my father’s terrified eyes disappearing into the crowd. “War doesn’t spare children.”
Jandra was silent for a few moments. The dying sunlight striped her pale face with the dim shadows of the bedroom blinds. “When I was a girl, I used to imagine having kids. Not here, but in Kylera, by the lake.” She swallowed, and her voice cracked a little as she went on. “I thought I’d have a boy and a girl, so they could learn to swim together, the way me and Mahanel did. They’d chase each other through the olive groves, sing in the old chantry above the valley, dance in red ribbons the way the Tletorans do…”
I stayed silent, afraid anything I said might tip her over the edge into tears. We had never talked about having kids, not in any serious way; seldom even as a joke. We were a couple of watch officers fucking in secret, precinct-house sweethearts, not husband and wife.
I was old and getting older, in a profession that ground men up like pepper in a mill. What kind of a father would I be? And what fool would want to raise a kid in Indeleon?
“Mother always wanted me to stay in the Crown City with her and Father. They hoped I would take over their shop, someday.” Jandra drew in a trembling breath. “Would’ve been an easy life. Easier than the City Watch, anyway. Or I could’ve gone to the north coast with my brother. It gets cold as fuck up in Ksarle, but it’s peaceful. Even beautiful, some days, when you look out at the ocean. All that blue, stretching to the horizon. I could’ve met some roughneck fresh off the oil rigs, got a little house on the bay, and had a whole litter of kids by now.”
“Do you wish you had?” I asked. I didn’t begrudge her voicing her what-ifs out loud. Neither of us had planned to end up in this broken promise of a city.
“No.” She said it firmly, looking up into my eyes. I saw no tears. Maybe she was simply too exhausted to cry. “Because then I wouldn’t have met you.”
*
The Inspectorate joined us for the morning briefing in the Seventh Watch bullpen. Aikerl was there with two of his officers, lounging by the blackboard with the supercilious expressions of men who know they play by a different rulebook. Orczin did a poor job of pretending to be at ease around them. I could see the sweat dappling his shiny brow.
“You will all be pleased to know we are well on track for our Interior Ministry audit,” he told us, roving his piggish eyes from watchman to watchman, daring anyone to undermine him. “Lieutenant Aikerl has reviewed our reports for the past month, and expressed satisfaction with our diligence in this challenging security environment.” His gaze lingered on Jandra and I for a second, and I saw what might have been a flash of warning. “In fact, he is so pleased with our good work, he has requested a few volunteers to join an interservice operation.”
Normally, this news would have elicited a hearty groan from the assembled watchmen. Today, with Aikerl’s sneering eyes upon us, we all stayed silent.
Are they sending us to Ninth, to gun down the rubble gangers? I wondered, trying not to look aside at Jandra. Will Modvehl’s venator be waiting for us with outstretched blades?
“We will be working in concert with the Inspectorate and our good friends in Fourth Watch to suppress dissident activity at the Metropolitan University,” Orczin continued. “This will be, hopefully, a routine and bloodless operation. You will assist in keeping the peace on campus, protecting the staff and students from potential disorder. You will be issued riot-control equipment, with lethal force strictly forbidden except as a last resort. Nobody wants a repeat of the Ryvalan debacle.”
Oh, Almighty, I thought. I’m sorry, Helina.
“Cruiser Oh-Eight will be heading up our contingent, with Watchman Lokh as acting watch-sergeant,” Orczin said. He gestured at Lokh and Geisden. “I need four more cruisers.”
“Sir…” Cherdane, the rookie, spoke up. His voice was tremulous, verging on boyish, even though he was a well-built lad standing a good six-foot-three. “We, uh, we haven’t yet received our enhanced peacekeeping training.”
Aikerl sniggered out loud. Orczin glared atomic fire at the boy. “Do you know how to use a firearm, Cherdane?” he said flatly.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you’ve had all the training you need.” Orczin paused. “I take it you are volunteering your cruiser?”
The boy blanched, and I was sure the whole precinct cringed inwardly in sympathy. There was no way out of this particular bind. I had fallen into similar traps myself as a young recruit.
“Yes, sir,” Cherdane stammered. “I…I volunteer. Cruiser One-One volunteers, I mean.”
Cherdane’s partner, glum old Rosbry, rolled his eyes but was wise enough to stay quiet.
“Good. Who else?” Orczin demanded.
“Cruiser Oh-Five volunteers,” said Masett, one of the younger watchmen. I wasn’t surprised he’d put his hand up. Everyone knew he had a fondness for violence.
“Cruiser One-Oh volunteers,” said Walda Falcieni, moments later. Then she glanced at her partner, Ontell, as if belatedly asking permission.
In the silence that followed, I realised Orczin was staring directly at me, with obvious expectation. Behind him, Aikerl silently raised his eyebrows at me. It was as encouraging as the fanged smile of a predatory reptile.
I was about to speak, to give in to the inevitable, when Jandra did it for me. “Cruiser One-Three volunteers, sir,” she said. Her voice was perfectly calm, perfectly neutral. Only her trembling fingers, clenched into fists at her sides, hinted at the amphetamine withdrawals that I knew were growing crueller by the hour.
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Orczin made a thin approximation of a smile. Acting like he was still very much in control, when it was painfully obvious he was dancing on Aikerl’s strings. “Good. That was easier than I expected. Move out immediately, please, and stay in contact with dispatch. Fourth Watch is already on site and will provide you with further information over the radio. Lieutenant Aikerl will be accompanying you, and you are to obey his orders as you would obey my own.”
“Has Fourth Watch indicated the level of dissident activity they’re facing, sir?” Falcieni asked. Her voice was sandpaper-rough from a quarter-century of steady smoking.
“A few rowdy kids,” Orczin replied. “Nothing you haven’t seen before. It shouldn’t take much to scare them straight. They’ll slink off back to their nice cosy halls when they realise you mean business.”
I resisted the urge to ask And if they don’t? It didn’t matter. We couldn’t back out now, having so bravely volunteered ourselves. We were already yoked to the chain of events.
Debhnil, the scrawny armoury technician who doubled as the precinct quartermaster, handed us our riot-control gear on the way out. Each cruiser was issued a military-surplus pump-action shotgun and a full box of knockdown shells. Lokh, as our watch-sergeant for the day, was given a belt of concussion grenades and a widebore launcher to lob them. We were told that Aikerl’s men had tear gas and flashbang shells with them; probably the most merciful weapons in the whole Inspectorate arsenal.
We all kept our pistols on us, of course, loaded with good honest ten-mil hollow-points. Orczin’s exhortation against lethal force carried the usual City Watch caveats. The last resort had a way of becoming standard operating procedure, especially now that the city was sliding into outright insurgency.
Maybe that was why, unbeknownst to everyone but Jandra, I had my snub revolver tucked into my boot. I’d offered her no explanation when she caught me loading it before breakfast; she hadn’t asked. It had just felt right to bring it along. A talisman, or an insurance policy; a grown man’s comfort blanket. I’d seen from Jandra’s expression that, on some level, she understood.
As our six-vehicle convoy left the precinct – Aikerl’s black rig leading the way, Lokh and Geisden’s cruiser following it, and the rest of us trailing behind – I thought of Helina, pleading with her eyes amid her piled books and silly posters. She might have been caught already, chained to a wall in a black cell beneath Queen Haara Square, or sliced to bits by the venator on Modvehl’s orders. Or maybe she was still cowering in her cluttered bedroom, waiting for my signal to come in, her last pitiful hope of escape.
I prayed that we wouldn’t see her today.
*
It was a slog getting to the Metropolitan University, even with Aikerl bullying the traffic out of our path and waving us through the checkpoints. The Interior Ministry troops didn’t seem especially well-coordinated with the Inspectorate, despite falling within the same chain of command. Twice, we had to detour around new security barriers cordoning off parts of Seventh Watch. There were few civilian cars on the road, but Indeleon still needed its freight. Cargo vans and transhaulers were queued up in dense jams in front of every checkpoint.
It was easy to see where there were full-scale raids in progress. Knots of drones hovered over those spots like flies swarming on a carcass. We passed half a dozen such in Seventh Watch alone. As we merged onto the southbound arterial, I noticed a bloom of smoke rising from a tenement block near Myrneda Street. Someone, it seemed, had tried to fight back. Was it one brave madman, or a foretaste of the uprising to come? How many weapons had Modvehl’s child couriers smuggled into the hands of the dissidents?
Jandra tuned us into the precinct bands. Half of Fourth Watch was already deployed at the university, we heard, while Twelfth Watch was supporting a full battalion of Interior Ministry troops in locking down the industrial quarter. Ninth Watch had established a hard perimeter around the cathedral ruins – nobody in, nobody out. Civilians suspected of even the loosest connection with the rubble gangs were being detained by the dozen and trucked off to Queen Haara Square.
“It’s really happening, isn’t it,” Jandra said quietly, as we crossed the Martyr Alikh Bridge. The bridge looked more like a fortress now, its elegant Dynastic Revival detailing lost beneath razorwire and stacked sandbags. Below, the sluggish Velmiris was thronged with armed patrol boats. “Nobody will dare speak up again, after this. They’re making an example out of the whole city. We’re the kingdom’s scapegoat.”
“We’ll weather it,” I told her. “Indeleon bounced back from an atomic, remember.”
“And it’s all been downhill since then.” She eyed the Interior Ministry squads manning the bridge. “It can’t seem to hit the bottom.”
There isn’t one, I thought. As long as we’re still breathing, there’s always further to fall.
Near the main gates of the Metropolitan University campus, our convoy was joined by three more Inspectorate rigs and a massive drone hauler. We found more rigs, along with Fourth Watch watchcars and some kind of tank-like mobile command vehicle, parked on the west lawns and arrayed around the department buildings. The manicured grass was scarred by a maze of muddy tracks. The pretty brick pathways were crawling with watchmen, black-bands and Ministry troops. Drones buzzed low between the halls of residence, oscillating their cameras from window to window. This was no mere show of force, I realised. A major raid was in the offing.
“All this for a few rowdy kids, huh,” Jandra said acidly. “I guess IMU’s lost its special exemption.”
“They were lucky it lasted as long as it did.” I tried not to look at the handful of students who still dared to wander the campus. I was afraid I might spot Helina among them.
“I don’t see why the black-bands have to drag us along. If they’re so fucking eager to shoot kids, why can’t they do it themselves?”
“We’re the friendly face of the operation,” I replied. “We help sweeten the pill. Look, your friendly neighbourhood watchmen are here.”
Jandra smiled a bitter smile. “Oh, of course. The gentle touch of the king’s justice. Just ignore all the tooled-up death squads marching in behind us.”
Aikerl directed us to park on the lawn a short walk from the central plaza, where a long row of Fourth Watch cruisers had already pulled up. I saw thirty or more watchmen waiting for us in loose order, all of them looking as happy to be there as I felt, and an Interior Ministry detachment armed for anti-terror work. It reminded me uncannily of the Inspectorate setup we’d seen in South Welynte. Aikerl’s kind did things the same way wherever they went, with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
“Get yourselves ready,” Aikerl instructed us over the radio – Erkasri had wired him into the Seventh Watch override band. I suppose it saved him having to leave the comfort of his rig to order us mere mortals around. “We’ll need you to maintain order while we sweep the campus. Coordinate yourselves with Fourth Watch and await further instructions.”
“Yeah, fuck you, too,” Jandra said under her breath.
We got out of the cruiser, joining Lokh and Geisden as they gathered the rest of our convoy together on the grassy slope. “It doesn’t look like we’ll have much to do here,” Lokh said, in the tone of someone who expected to be proved wrong. He had his grenade launcher slung on a strap over one shoulder. “This might not be familiar ground for us, but the usual interservice approach applies. Stick together, let Fourth take the lead, and stay out of the way of the Ministry troops.” He nodded at Geisden, who was cradling their riot-control shotgun. “Remember what Orczin said. If things do kick off, use non-lethal ammunition only, unless you’re in imminent danger. Let’s avoid pouring fuel on this fire, if we can.“
“We poured fuel on it the moment we showed up,” Rosbry grumbled around his lit cigarette. He was the oldest of us, a gloomy-eyed war veteran who’d fought the Salvators all the way to the Crown City. “Anyone ready to start trouble with this many black-bands won’t be scared off by bloody knockdowns.”
Lokh’s mouth twitched in bleak amusement. “Maybe not at first. In my experience, a knockdown shell to the gut is a marvellous attitude adjuster.”
As I was opening the Continental’s trunk to retrieve our shotgun, Jandra came up close to my side. “Let me take it,” she murmured. “Please.”
I knew what she was thinking. Knockdown shells could break a rib or a kneecap easily enough, but they generally left the target alive. Her second kill might be easier, or it might not. She didn’t need to find out today.
I handed her the shotgun. It was already fully loaded. She checked it over, thumbing the safety, and mouthed what looked like a quick prayer.
The acting City Watch commander on site was a grey-haired, harried-looking woman named Thariu, the deputy chief-of-watch from Fourth. She came over to greet us, accompanied by several of her men – including none other than Movar, who was visibly sweating with amphetamine withdrawal, and couldn’t seem to keep his eyes focused. I was careful not to make eye contact with Jandra.
“Glad to have you with us,” Thariu said, addressing Lokh. “It makes me feel slightly less alone in this sea of Interior Ministry nancy boys. I could almost imagine civilian law enforcement still means something in this city.”
“We’re ready to assist, ma’am,” Lokh replied crisply. “Just put us where you need us.”
Thariu glanced in the direction of the main administration building. “The deans have imposed a selective curfew until further notice – the students are all confined to their halls, except for lectures and tutorials. No more marches and protests for these brats. Possibly ever again.” She didn’t sound too sorry about it; little surprise, given that the Metropolitan University was Fourth Watch’s eternal headache. “The black-bands will be rounding up known troublemakers and their associates, but we all know that’s the tip of the iceberg. We think there’s some deep-cover syndicalists, possibly violent ones, hiding among the junior faculty. We need to make sure they can’t make a run for the river.”
“Maritime units are out in force today,” Lokh said. “I doubt any swimmers would get far.”
“Don’t underestimate these fucks. I’ve had suspects vanish from the waterfront in broad daylight, using the overhanging trees for cover.” Thariu drew a folded campus map from her uniform pocket and passed it to Lokh. “I think you’ll be most useful helping us lock down the plaza, so we can free up some more men to watch the exits. You’ll have a clear shot at anyone doing a runner.”
And we’ll also be perfect targets for any snipers on the rooftops, I thought. In the distance, I could hear glass breaking, and voices raised in rage and fear. Aikerl’s men were already getting to work.
Lokh studied the map for a few seconds, then nodded. “We can set up a static position, and spare a few men for roving patrols, if needed.”
“Good.” Thariu turned to address her assembled watchmen. “South corner team, Seventh Watch will take your spot on the plaza. You’re retasked to the outer department buildings. Movar, Jaganh – go with Lokh’s people, show them where to set up. Let’s get moving, before the Inspectorate starts making snide remarks about our fitness to serve.”
Movar and his apparent partner Jaganh led us uphill, to join the Fourth Watch squads fanning out across the wide and eerily quiet central plaza. I looked at the imposing pillared façade of the main administration building, seeing no sign of activity, aside from a couple of overalled janitors sweeping the front steps. Helina’s quad was just a short walk away, I remembered, at the end of one of the arcades that branched off the plaza. Almighty, I’d been such an idiot to give her false hope.
Lokh must have been as uneasy about the plaza’s open sightlines as I was, because he directed us into the cover of the south arcade. “Space yourselves out in the archways,” he said, breaking open his launcher’s action to slot a concussion grenade into the breech. “Keep an eye on doors and windows. Anyone coming this way from the outer quads is to be challenged for identification. Anyone who refuses, or tries to run, gets a knockdown shell to the centre-torso. Got it?”
We nodded and muttered Yes with little enthusiasm. I noticed Jandra was holding her shotgun very tightly, her fingers white and shaky on the forend grip.
She and I headed into the cool shadows near the far end of the arcade, beside the locked doors of the bursar’s office. I scanned the dusty plaza and the higher floors opposite us, keeping my hand lightly on the holster of my pistol. The revolver tucked against my ankle was chafing my skin, but I was still irrationally glad to have it.
Movar and his partner joined us under the archway. It was alarming to see the state of the lanky Thas-Ralkan. He looked awful, much worse than he had that night at the cathedral. His thin, unshaven face seemed to have aged a decade in the space of a month. Thariu had been cruel to even bring him along today. He might have been a good watchman in his prime, but those days were over. He was just another Remkou in waiting now.
“Hey, Morre,” he whispered to me as we settled into our positions, regarding me with pained, watery eyes. “Got any stay-awake on you?”