“Boston exists in its own little corner of the world. We are so far from the rest of the cities, so removed from the events that have shaped history since the Fall. Boston has never been truly conquered; she has never been truly desired. This distance has allowed us to stagnate. Change was never forced upon us, by conqueror or necessity. The time has come for change.”
Baltazar stepped forward to peer through the glass as The Eagle pitched and turned.
“There is no control here. No single will. Ironveil squanders his resources—and those of our city. There is nothing I, or anyone, can do to rein the bastard in.”
He turned to me, eyes sharp. “You traveled to Dodge in a Griid-train. Outside of the rarest of circumstances, only another Griidlord will bother a Griid-train. But many merchants travel the land without the protection of a Griid-train, without a Griidlord. Have you any idea how harrowing it is to ride the wilds without them? The bandits, the fiends, the hostile settlements of savages… Tiberius, it’s madness. Every city sends armies and Griidlords forth for the Falling, men savage each other and die by the thousands to gain Flows. We’re all one people, the inheritors of the race that was American. Why do we do this?”
I had no answer, though I searched for one.
“It would have been a better world if the Empire of the Angels had taken the world and ended this endless war. The world needs unity. There is a world out there, Tiberius, a possible world, where the cities are united. Imagine a world where the Falling is a simple exercise of harvesting, where farmers and fabricators know what resources they have instead of being compelled to guess and gamble. Imagine a world where a higher power puts Order to use to help the common man, to make things, to heal things, instead of fueling the decadence we now submit to.”
A quarry came into view beneath us.
“There’s palladium in there, Tiberius. Palladium that could be used to forge Mystorium. But the machines lie idle. We can’t spare the Flows. We waste Flows on The Choosing, squander the inner sector of the city on bars and restaurants and vidscreens, but we can’t mine, we can’t farm. Does that make sense to you?”
I shook my head slowly. I couldn’t argue with him, yet a deep trepidation rose within me at his line of thinking. This felt dangerous. I glanced at the back of Magneblade’s head. Was he part of this? It seemed impossible to imagine Magneblade’s thoughts extending beyond his desire for the next chance to commit violence.
The Eagle turned again, and more ruined farmland passed beneath us. We traveled in silence for a time, passing over still and lifeless factories from the old times.
Boston appeared before us again as we soared. I found myself caught in wondering what Baltazar wanted from me. I couldn’t fully grasp his intention. I could see he was at odds with the world order as it existed, but his ultimate goal eluded me. It was clear, however, that he had a plan, and that realization alone troubled me. It frightened me.
He seemed to sense my turmoil, noting my stillness, but he showed neither surprise nor concern.
“You didn’t come up here expecting this,” he said. “I understand. It’s a lot. You’ve just won the suit; your sights are set, if on anything, on burying your father, recovering from your ordeals, winning Flows—and rightly so. What I speak of here is something I can’t force on you. It’s something I need you to want as I do.”
I said, "I don’t understand exactly what it is you want to do. I don’t understand why I need to be part of it.”
Baltazar replied, “The first thing I want—need—to do is win Flows for the city. I need those Flows to secure a future term for myself as Lord Supreme. More than that, I need them to enact my larger plan. My larger plan is simple, Tiberius. I want to unite the land.”
I blinked, hard. That was a lofty goal for the leader of one of the poorest cities in the land.
His eyes burned in that impassive face. “I have a dream, a vision. I have a premonition. I know this is something I can and should do.”
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He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Fear not, Tiberius. As I said, I won’t force you into this; I can’t. I know how radical this sounds. I know how much of what I’ve said might sound like subversion. But I want to improve the lot of everyone by doing away with the chaos we all live with. It starts here, in Boston. I backed you. If you can be the savior I promised in the council, if you can finally right the ship through victories in the Falling, then that will set me on the path.”
I stammered, “I’m only a level 10.”
Magneblade jerked his head to look at me as I said that. The sinister visor fixed on me for a long moment. Two words escaped him: “Already? Fuck.”
Baltazar said, “Level 10 is remarkable, but I need you to claw every level you can before the Falling. I’ve never heard of anyone growing as fast as you have. But we need to harness all that growth, all that potential. That means fighting, Tiberius. For now, that’s all I ask of you.”
The Eagle dipped suddenly, pointing down towards the mess of buildings that made up the city. My stomach lurched and my heart pounded. I tried to seem calm even as my armored fingers dug into the seat.
I said, “Then what was the point of all this? The tour? Your plans—vague as they are.”
Baltazar raised an eyebrow at my tone, noting the strain in my voice.
“You brought me up here because you wanted to show me something, because I’d need to owe you for staying Leona’s execution. We’ve flown over what feels like half the territory, and I still don’t know what you want me to do.”
The Eagle dove hard. At the last moment, I saw a tunnel opening, a metal door irising in a section of the Tower garden. One moment, we were plummeting to our deaths in full sunlight; the next, we’d suddenly decelerated in the dimness of the subterranean hangar.
Baltazar said, “Tiberius, all I ask is for you to do your duty. You have a month until the Falling, and I need you to gain as many levels as you can. There will be much work in the Griid-trains without Lord Chowwick. I need you to find every opportunity to fight.”
I said, “And who do I fight?”
“I’ll send you reports of fiends, reports of bandits and outlaws. We’ll give you routes for your trains that will bring you close to action. You won’t have a chaperone, which isn’t ideal. But, with Lord Chowwick down, we can’t spare any Griidlords. You’ll fight and level up as fast as you can. Level 20 would be critical—it’s enough to make you a factor in the field, and you’ll gain another skill. Make that your goal.”
I blew out a breath. “That’s not much of a goal.”
Baltazar said, “No Griidlord has ever entered the Falling at level 20 their first time.”
I couldn’t find the words to explain how meaningless it felt. “Still, I don’t see the point of this exercise. You still haven’t told me what you expect in return for helping Leona.”
The Eagle touched down. It seemed capable of transitioning from vertical to horizontal flight at will, achieving incredible speeds. I was truly dazzled. Later, I would reflect on the experience and appreciate the wonder of flying, but at that moment, I was all too absorbed in Baltazar and the demands his vision placed on me.
Baltazar said, “You can repay me by thinking on what I said. That is all. I hope for us to work side by side for a long time. I don’t ever want you to feel compelled by me. We can do amazing things together, Tiberius, but I want us to achieve these things as partners. I want you to take ownership of what we build. I keep telling you that it won’t be forced upon you.”
I said, “So… you just want me to think about it, and then we’re square?”
Baltazar nodded slightly. “Just reflect on it. Think about the good we could do in the world by changing the order of things. Think about the good we could do in Boston by breaking the chains of tradition that hold the city down. Think about the good that could be done by breaking down the walls that keep the territories apart and disparate.”
Then, almost as though it were an afterthought, he added, “What about your man, Zeb?”
“Zeb?”
“Yes, he was your bodyguard, but I imagine that role is defunct now…”
“Well, yeah. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with him.”
“Give him to me for a while, while you’re not using him.”
It felt strange, like trading a person. It felt dehumanizing to the man who had guarded me. But I felt beholden. I nodded.
Baltazar said, “Very good. Don’t send him to me; just tell him to await communication.”
As I descended the ramp of The Eagle, I felt a strange unease. More than ever, I felt a duty to this man. He had helped me and asked so little in return, so many times. As much as he insisted that I owed him nothing, I felt the opposite—a growing, unshakeable sense of obligation. But that wasn’t what truly troubled me.
What truly troubled me was the sense that I was being pulled into something deeper, like a sinking ship being drawn to the bottom of the sea.