CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE - TIGHTENING OF THE MIND

The snows had come. Tanner had... thought she knew snow, having been up here for a while now. Not quite. There was a frenzy of snow during the night, an absolute torrent of the stuff bounding out of the mountains like a tidal wave. Fell in complete silence, whispering downwards. And now the whole colony was absolute buried under layer upon layer upon layer of smooth white powder, undisturbed, and perhaps impossible to disturb, by any foot of human or animal. The landscape had softened. Returning to a primordial smoothness. Dunes of snow, waves, hillocks, even the mountains beyond seemed to have become nothing more than crude elaborations of the snow-cairns below, all smoothness and brightness. Tanner had to wear dark lenses when she stared out of the governor's window, shivering a little at the sight of it. The great white plain of nothingness. Even the houses were invisible, just tiny black slices, laden with icicles, where the lips of roofs could endure in some fashion. The roofs themselves were heavy with snow, the windows invisible behind great drifts, the doors sealed as shut as any prison gate. The thin Ina trees were almost crushed under the weight of the powder, straining to stay upright. Like tiny black cigarillos embedded in the mountain, only the trunks visible, branches and roots swamped completely. The sky was the purest blue she'd ever seen. The sun, pale and strange, turned the landscape into a canvas of shimmering diamond. The mountains seemed to trap the last vestiges of night, fleeing the sun behind the peaks, and red, ragged strands of cloud turned the snow near them the colour of fresh-spilled blood.

No animal lived out there. Midwinter came in two waves. First, the cold. Then, the mutants. The cold purged... everything, really. Food was limited to what could be stored, the mountains here were still recovering their game stocks after the Great War, and hunting was a risky venture. Going outside meant frostbite, hypothermia, snow-blindness, all the myriad hazards of a world no longer meant for human habitation. Life was measured in bites of food and logs of firewood. It was measured in the square feet of warmth that could be hacked out, submersibles in a hostile ocean. Then, the mutants. Creatures that knew no cold. That feared no blindness. That were adapted, perfectly and completely, to living in a place like this. The only creatures changeable enough. She'd heard stories, from the lodge, of old monsters of yore, slain by great heroes. The Bear-Eater, which slither-clicked into the dens of hibernating bears and used them as stores of meat, to grow larger, stronger, stranger. The Frost-Yearn, with root-tentacles that lay under great fields of ice and trapped any who dared set foot upon them. Enjoying the lack of competition that winter brought. And, of course, the Gnaw, the dogs that moved like worms under the snow, that spread forth fleshy wings and glided upon the snowstorms, that let out hoarse, shrill cries.... so high and strange they couldn't be distinctly heard, but destroyed good sleep, destroyed sense and reason. Drove one to madness...

And when you walked into the cold, the Gnaw would come, smiling with too-human mouths, oozing from the snow like maggots, drifting out of the wind like enormous moths.

Always thought those were... metaphors. Taught they were. The Bear-Eater which cautioned against complacency and those who profited from it. The Frost-Yearn which taught that some foreign lands weren't just strange, they were infested, and would infect others if they could manage. The Gnaw, who were just hypothermia personified.

These days, though...

Found it hard to dismiss them as such. Just a little.

Her eyes suddenly twitched as a flash of light carried over the snow-dunes, bright as a lighthouse's lamp... and to her surprise, another equivalent flash met it in turn, pulsing irregularly. Didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening. The snow out there was... gods, must be close to waist-deep at its shallowest, and the chill was bad enough to force most people indoors. Soldiers were communicating through flashes of light to avoid having to hike through the cold, and... come to think of it, the cartel wouldn't be doing any of this. The cartel had tunnels, they could just run around having friendly chats with one another in the warmest damn places in town. Another piece of leverage on their side - shelters, warmth, pelts aplenty... add that to the food, and it was a miracle that anyone might consider staying with the governor's forces. She tracked the flickering, noting with resignation that the cartel doubtless knew what they meant, knew what the soldiers were saying to one another at all times.

Well.

Might as well get on with it.

Yan-Lam was sleeping in a chair, curled up like a particularly large and dusty cat. The office looked like a bomb had gone off in it - and by destroying it, by tearing apart the floor and spraying splinters all over the place, by bringing a mutant through, she'd discovered more than she ever could've by being subtle. It was strange, but her best successes had been from being an unsubtle brute, now she thought for a moment. Just bounding out of the colony on a whim to find Tal-Sar, abruptly interrogating Tom-Tom, escaping Vyuli by tearing her way free and running like a headless eel, abandoning strategy to rely completely on the strength of her arms and the length of her legs, the sturdy construction of lung and the dense weave of muscle. And now... getting a mutant on a leash, picking up a sledgehammer, and getting to work on anything that looked suspicious. A floor in the way, a secret passage to be found? Sledgehammer. Walls which might have been tampered with? Sledgehammer. Mutant that might tear her apart if she felt it would get her more contamination to devour? Sledgehammer, truncheon, simple size. If she was a normal-sized person, she'd... well, she'd have died in the tunnels, incapable of breaking out of her ropes. She'd have probably been a worse interrogator. And the mutant would've glanced at her idly, realised the contamination was being withheld, and would've placidly snapped her neck before slinking away with the urn under one malformed arm. And that was discounting the bouncers she'd met who'd tried to kill her in the street.

She wasn't happy with this being the case. It made her feel... crude. Clumsy. Brutal.

Hated how good she felt when she was just moving, struggling, feeling adrenaline pulse through her veins...

She moved fast. Put on her coat, her scarf, her boots, everything. Her dress was increasingly a little... frayed, these were dresses for academics and judges, not wrestlers or vagabonds. Yan-Lam didn't stir. Completely exhausted at the moment - but once she was up and about, the girl would keep working until she literally passed out. Mornings, though, found her virtually comatose. Tanner gritted her teeth and left, a bag of files under one arm. Soldiers downstairs gave her odd looks as she departed... odd, and wary. Nervous of the crashing they'd heard, the secrecy around it all. None had seen the mutant. Thankfully. She nodded politely to them and left the mansion... only to find the door was so blocked up with snow that she it refused to move. Once, Tanner would've shuffled from side to side, thought about what was proper, and probably wasted several minutes fretting. Now... now she just sighed internally, placed her shoulder to the door, and shoved with all the force she could muster. The snow rasped, the door creaked... and with another shove, the whole thing came free, sending up a spray of powder, a shower or tiny icicles, and letting in a breeze of startling cold. Tanner hummed, a little satisfied... and turned around.

Ah.

The soldiers were... staring at her, weren't they?

Tanner nodded again, a flush building along her collarbone. Should say something witty, shouldn't she? Something impressive, something like... uh, 'easier than climbing out of a window, huh, chaps, isn't that right, fellows, comrades, buddies, loyal soldiers', or 'well, that's warmed me up a bit' or 'cold enough to freeze the finger of a brass monkey, isn't it!' and then they'd laugh in a manly fashion and she'd feel wonderfully respected. Or they'd stare at her and not laugh and she'd implode. Hm. Choices. She nodded again.

"Good morning."

Coward.

They nodded back, fairly expressionless. Well. At least it wasn't mockery.

The snow came up to her waist, and she shoved her way through it with grumpy detachment. Yes, it was cold. But she had stockings, a dress, a coat, and more matter than most people. That probably added up to something. She stared out at the featureless pale... and removed her dark glasses, just for a second. The impact of the light on her eyes was tremendous - the world had become the surface of a star, a thousand needle-like points of raw fire sprung up, slicing through the whites of her eyes, contracting her pupils to pinpricks. The sky was too blue, the mountains were too bright, the whole landscape seemed to shudder and the edge of the horizon wavered like the air above a great source of heat. Tanner was momentarily convinced that this was how stars were born, that in the dark of the night sky there were lonely, wandering planets, and sometimes these planets had storms of snow so intense that they stole all heat, and refused to ever melt. And they parasitised the light of other stars, of other celestial bodies, trapping them deep in the shifting flakes and radiating it outwards in a blinding glow so intense it scorched the eyes and reddened the skin. That all light in the universe was just... reflections of reflections, parasitised light from some immaculate source, and one day the light would run out and then it would be this world's turn to grow snow-covered and to steal light from others in turn, migrating up the food chain of planetoids, and-

A pain built in her eyes.

A shimmer spread across the landscape as the light stabbed inwards.

The whole world seemed almost liquid...

And she put the dark glasses back on as her teeth clenched to prevent a cry from escaping her lips.

Kept moving. The snow parted behind her in a great valley, and her heart beat a little faster, remembering the snow fields. The feeling of staggering through endless cold, desperate for any sign of relief. The madness that set into her as the cold ate through everything, forced every aspect of self into a shivering, terrified singularity, dense beyond compare, and divorced completely from a body that was already dying around it. Less a person, more of a... single bright string within a walking corpse.

The dark houses came along to shade her from the blinding-yet-frigid sun, and her feet were actually able to find real, solid ground for once, the valley behind her diminishing as the drifts were relocated to roofs rather than the streets. Silence all around. The colony felt dead. Just as it had the last time. In a way, she almost... oh, gods, that was an odd thought, she wanted the mutant back. Just stick her on a leash, bribe her with ash, and bang. An excuse for the silence, for the isolation - because who would willingly approach a giantess with a mutant on a string? As it was... as it was, she had no convenient excuse. The colony was just a tinderbox, most of the people here had no love for her, nor for the governor, and were likely aware of how the cartel controlled their food supply. All that stopped a war was the fact that neither side was willing to commit to something that would waste so many of their own resources. That was it. The colony hung on the balance of a ledger. Even the mutants were only an effective threat for those who believed they were coming. If Vyuli thought, truly, that they were, his damn ultimatum would never have been issued. But he didn't. He lacked proof. And until there was proof... things were just business as usual.

As opposed to a fight for survival, it was a fight for advantage. Would just get them all killed, in her mind.

...stop it. Stop... stop thinking about this, she... she was doing an investigation. Think about too much, paralysis set in, she found the investigation drifting from her mind, she started to doubt everyone around her, she started to doubt every decision she'd ever made. Put on the blinkers, move forwards, solve the governor's murder. Nothing else mattered to her, understand? Nothing. Because she had no better ideas than anyone else, other people were trained to do this sort of thing, her role was judging criminals, nothing more. Let the veterans of the Great War handle it. Let them deal with all the grander problems, and let them order her around like a good soldier.

Slow-going, moving through the colony. Her first port of call was with the soldiers in the garrison, which was surrounded by a ring of cleared earth, shovelled aside by soldiers wreathed in every layer of clothing they could reasonably pack on. A tiny sphere of existence where midwinter had been driven back. The murals on the outside seemed to swim before her eyes, slave-hewn decorations warping in the interminable brightness of the snow. Even a few seconds of staring at the snow had placed this... oil-slick shimmer over her eyes, and it just kept lingering. Made things twist more than she wanted to, and a sense of sea-sickness rippled through her, and... focus. Move. She entered without resistance, the soldiers glancing wearily at her. Bayai would be here. But... she had someone else to talk to. Ms. Blue, the enthusiastic young lady she'd bumped into on a few occasions. Asking around was... well, not as hard as it could be, given that she didn't know the lady's name. Just had to ask for the incredibly enthusiastic woman who kept saluting. A Kal, if she remembered correctly. And without fail, people knew who she was talking about. Sent her towards the barracks, where...

Ah.

There she was.

Bright blue eyes, jittering with excess energy. Sitting on the edge of a cot in a small barrack-room, empty save for herself, tapping her feet against the ground like she was resisting the urge to sprint. Kept checking her watch. Kept brushing her hair backwards. Not in full uniform yet, but in as close to full uniform as was possible, and the last things that remained to be put on (greatcoat, cap etc.) were close at hand.

Tanner had the sudden image of her waking up too early from excess enthusiasm, dressing and so on because she had too much energy to sit still, and then had to remain here until she was given permission to leave.

"Good morning."

The woman almost jumped out of her skin... then straightened, stood up, brushed down her front, saluted, clicked her heels, and smiled brightly. Gods, she was keen.

"Good morning to you too, honoured judge, ma'am! Would you like some coffee? There's breakfast in the mess hall, but I can acquire something else if you need any. Oh, please, I'll go and get you a chair, if you like, miss, honoured judge, ma'am, and-"

"This is fine. I just wanted to ask a quick question."

The woman buzzed with energy.

"Of course, ma'am. Happy to help! Oh, terribly sorry for the mess in here, ma'am. Complete pigsty."

The room was spotless.

"...do you live here alone?"

A slight dimming of enthusiasm. Slight. But noticeable.

"No, ma'am. This is... the female quarters, honoured judge. Not many of us. And they're all out on their own shifts."

Huh.

"I see. Now, I don't want to be a bother-"

"Never a bother, ma'am!"

Tanner's collarbone flushed a little. Again.

"...thank you. So, I don't want to be a bother, but you mentioned a while ago that... you were looking into preparing some sort of protective gear for me, in my size."

Her voice dropped a little when she said 'in my size'. Still a little embarrassed. Ms. Blue blinked... and her smile broadened further.

"Oh, of course! I've been working on that in my spare time, the armoury has more than enough material. I'm afraid I'm not a tailor, by any means, but I was able to... put something together. Just down here - sorry, if you'd like to have a look, of course, ma'am, honoured judge, if you're too busy, and I completely understand, I'll walk over and deliver them to the mansion whenever is convenient, and-"

The snow was waist-deep in places, and that was on Tanner. On Ms. Blue, it might just devour her entirely.

"That's fine. I'd like to have a look, if it's not inconvenient."

"Oh, not inconvenient at all! But if it's inconvenient for you, of course, happy to adapt, honoured judge!"

She clicked her heels instinctually. Tanner blinked.

"No, it's really fine."

The woman blushed very slightly, but her smile remained constant.

"Ah, sorry, don't mean to be a bother. Just this way, ma'am."

And like that, she was off. The base had a strange air to it, Tanner thought. None of the soldiers were going around in anything but full gear, no shirt-sleeves, no slovenliness, no walking around unarmed. Everyone was ready for combat. Tanner spoke quietly to Ms. Blue as they walked. Bayai was a good man, and a good source of information, but it was... always good to broaden her perspective. No, no, focus on the governor, the governor, and... she'd already asked. Had to commit, didn't she? Terribly embarrassing otherwise.

"How... exactly is everyone feeling at the moment? Around the garrison?"

Ms. Blue looked up, blinked a few times in quick succession, tilting her head a few times to agitate the thoughts inside...

"Well... people are snappy. I'll say that, ma'am, but it's not negative, just... well, an observation. Snappy. Snippy. Not too polite. If you'll pardon the expression."

"Nervous?"

"Think so, yes. People are just unsure what's happening, duties are all scrambled... I mean, time was you looked at the rotas and you thought 'oh gods, what are they getting me to do today' - not meaning we're lazy, just that some duties aren't very nice, honoured judge. Not laziness, none of us are lazy, promise. Now, though... just nice to have something to do. No fun going out to patrol, though. Too cold, and too dark. No fun, ma'am."

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A nervous smile.

"But, well, didn't become soldiers for fun, ma'am!"

Clearly resisting the urge to click her heels - alas, walking too quickly, a heel-click would probably send her face-first into the ground. Not sure who'd be more embarrassed there, Tanner might implode, Ms. Blue might explode, and they'd just create a hell of a mess. And start a war - soldiers running around, suspecting the cartel of detonating two odd young ladies to intimidate them. Boy, that'd be something.

Stop thinking, Tanner. Just... stop.

The woman paused as they turned a corner... and spoke in a surprisingly low voice all of a sudden.

"We're definitely with you though, ma'am."

Tanner blinked.

"I'm sorry?"

"With you, ma'am. All the way. I mean, you show up, you investigate things, you make people run around like headless chickens, then you fight... they said five grown men attacked the house you were interrogating Ms. Tom-Tom inside-"

"Three. There were... three. There were five men in the street when you were escorting me to the mansion."

The woman jittered. Gods, that was uncanny.

"Sorry, ma'am. Three men in the house, five men in the street... you broke out after getting kidnapped, nothing but your own skills, you wandered in the snow for a whole night, survived, killed a buffalo, came back, gave us all sorts of news, heard that you were tearing up the mansion to find things, I mean... not trying to be too... anyway, I mean, we're with you, ma'am. Told everyone about those things, told everyone, they're impressed, people think you're... very impressive, ma'am. And you have this cool expression whenever you do these things, and-"

Tanner wanted to run away.

Tanner wanted to implode.

Stop praising her. Stop it.

"...and, well, we're with you if you need to do anything. I know the Sersas..."

She paused, clearly uncomfortable with saying too much. Oh, sure, felt comfortable making Tanner implode, but unwilling to embarrass anyone else. Sure.

"...Sersa Bayai's a good sort, but the other two, I mean, people... aren't too fond of them, they're old, a bit fusty, and..."

And they were corrupted by the cartel, according to Bayai. The soldiers had evidently sniffed that out. Sort of person to take bribes from the other side apparently didn't cultivate much trust among troops who had absolutely no love for the other side. Demanded a certain... willingness to just ignore what your men thought, and apparently that didn't go down too well with the men in other scenarios. Who could've guessed.

"...and anyway, ma'am, what I'm just saying, is... if you need any of us to come along and help you, we're happy to. Eager to, really. Nice to see something getting done - nice to... well... everything's a bit scattered, but none of us have ever liked the bouncers, hated that they got to be in charge of so much. Nice to see they were always a bunch of criminals. And the softly-softly stuff... I know the governor liked it, and we all still respect him, but things are just so... bad at the moment, it's nice to see someone wading in and trying to deal with it all."

She really wasn't.

She just wanted to solve a crime. Anything more than that was purely collateral. Anything... well, she was looking for a secret that was safeguarded by blackmail against people like Canima, so... well... again, she was looking for the governor's killer, everything else was an accident. A happy by-product. If she could've solved this without waking up the cartel, she probably would've.

Would she?

Would she have genuinely ignored the leads? Ignored the great lacuna where the cartel sat, perched like a fat, bloated toad atop the colony?

...anyway.

She just didn't know any more.

Ms. Blue was studying her face closely, reading it for any sign of approval or irritation. Tanner had no idea how to react. Kept her mouth shut. And her face was instinctually flat. She did nothing... and Ms. Blue, a second later, straightened her back, clicked her shoes, nodded in an oddly conspiratorial fashion, and kept walking. Oh, gods, what had Tanner gotten herself into? She barely knew how to engage with people, she didn't feel like she knew anyone, how could she cultivate allies when she barely talked? Allies were... you forged them, right? All the plays said people did, they forged allies, they negotiated alliances, there was interplay, negotiation, a startling number of dinners and low conversations over wine, she didn't just get allies because she acted like a vulgar old brute and blundered around like a rogue elephant, damn it all!

Feh. Just stay quiet. And hope it all blew over before anything happened. Just... let the others deal with it. Let Bayai, let Canima, even let Vyuli, if he could keep the colony going.

There was no more conversation as she was led to the armoury, where a set of clothing was laid out in front of her. Heavy-duty, a little clumsily stitched, but it was the sort of clumsiness that came from care. A desire to keep things functional above making them look pretty, to play it safe no matter how obvious the threads were. An enormous greatcoat, heavy enough that Ms. Blue struggled under its weight, with a waxy layer of leather covering it all. Ms. Blue talked as she worked.

"Now, the leather is treated to keep contamination out, should just slide away. If you need to, just use water to ease it along, it's all waterproof. Unbutton the collar, and you can flip it up, button it again and you've basically got a total seal. The metal rim around there is meant to click into a gas mask. So, flip up the collar, slot it into the gas mask, total protection. The flaps down here, around the calves, are meant to clip into these boots..."

The boots in question were enormous, steel-capped, and looked like the sort of thing you stored umbrellas inside.

"Not perfect, but the trousers tuck into the boots too, forming a tighter seal. The coat just takes some of the load off. Coat has a tube here, you thread the gas mask hose through it, stops it getting torn or twisted. Gauntlets, these clip into the coat as well... hope the sizing is all alright, ma'am."

Tanner blinked.

"Oh, it all looks splendid. Thank you."

Ms. Blue jittered again, and Tanner felt another urge to run away brewing inside of her. If running wasn't more embarrassing than staying, she might've obeyed this urge.

"Gas mask's here, too. Metal, bit more resistant than the civilian models. More filters, faster to change them in and out, much more reinforced... nice little helmet, too."

It was rather nice. The gas mask was a lot shorter than the other ones, the snout at the front coming to a sharp muzzle rather than a long proboscis. The metal was a dark shade of grey, almost black, and the lenses gleamed like the eyes of a large insect. The helmet was of a similar material, and looked almost like a barber's basin - wide and flat, with a fair-sized brim. Worked for her. She gave everything a quick go, slipping boots on, gloves, checking it all... the sizing was alarmingly good. She knew she'd given Ms. Blue permission to check her wardrobe for any clothes she needed to get sizing references, but this implied some serious attention to detail. Didn't like the idea of Ms. Blue obsessing herself over her... dimensions, felt like someone had just stuck their thumb into her cup of tea. Viscerally unpleasant, and slightly confusing. Either way, the equipment was completely functional, and... gods, she'd even picked leather that was properly broken in, nothing that strained or chafed, even the helmet was uncannily close to perfect in terms of size and condition - which was especially eerie, given that she didn't know the size of her head. Had Ms. Blue just guessed? Had she just stared at Tanner for a few seconds and gone 'oh, yes, definitely a 17.55' or however it went.

The woman was... very enthusiastic. Tanner would give her that much.

Very weird, having an effect on someone she barely knew.

...no, no, Ms. Blue probably had her own things going on, a life history that so happened to have a slot for people like Tanner. Tanner didn't really exist to her, Tanner just represented a few things that were somewhat important in Ms. Blue's odd mind. Just like how Tanner had no idea who Ms. Blue really was, not remotely. Didn't know how to engage with her, not sure if she wanted to. Neither of them knew one another. Complete strangers. They just... slotted into masks the other had already created. Tanner didn't know what her mask looked like, or why it had been made, or who else it had fitted, but here she was. And Ms. Blue was just... a soldier, a helper, an unknown.

"Thank you for preparing all of this. It's very kind of you."

"Not a problem, honoured judge, not a problem at all. Happy to help, always happy to help. Rest of us, too, ma'am, honoured judge."

A click.

"Oh. Ah. Well. Very good."

Shut up, Tanner, you're making this strange creature jitter repeatedly, I think she might be having a fit.

No, not a fit, she was enjoying it too much.

Anyway.

"I... need to go, there's more people I need to see today-"

Person. She had a person to see, don't get overexcited.

"Oh, yes, of course, ma'am. Won't keep you. Would you like to take these, or..."

"I think I will, yes."

A bit of paranoia. Didn't want to be caught with her proverbial undergarments down when everything started collapsing. The mutants could be here any moment, she could be forced out of the colony by vengeful cartel members, she could be compelled to run around in the snow for hours and hours... better to just take everything she'd ever need with her. She was strong enough for it, after all. Ms. Blue helped her gather things together, packing them into a heavy leather bag that Tanner slung awkwardly over her shoulder. And Ms. Blue couldn't help but add something else.

"We're still tanning the buffalo hide, ma'am. Once it's ready, we'll let you know - just getting the lining and the ties ready."

Oh, gods...

No, no, she liked that hide, it had value to her.

But Ms. Blue was doing so much, it just felt wrong to get someone to do this much for what was... what was a vanity project.

She smiled nonetheless. Thanked her politely. And left. Left before the blush moved from her collarbone to her face. Ms. Blue escorted her to the exit with a smart military pace dictating her steps, and a look in her eyes that made Tanner feel very slightly uncomfortable. Not for anything... substantial, just... well... anyway. The snow was a pleasant relief after the awkwardness of their interaction, and Tanner bid her goodbye with all the politeness she could muster - which was quite a lot, when she was stressed she tended to become more polite. Usually. Mostly because politeness was... dictated by a series of stock lines and phrases, rote pleasantries, and by slipping into those... well, when stressed, it could be nice to abrogate responsibility for talking, surrender it all to good, instinctual, dictated lines.

Anyway.

She strode away back into the chill, the snow once more wrapping around her waist until she could get to the roofs and under cover once more. No-one emerged from the houses, few lights burned. Silence. Ms. Blue's departure back to the garrison was almost... almost unwanted once the silence had consumed everything once again, and Tanner's felt her isolation keenly. Right. Tom-Tom. Tom-Tom had access to the tunnels, at least, she had knowledge of their layout. Tanner wasn't quite sure what was... going on, but the governor's death had occurred in a chamber connected to one of those tunnels. Maybe Canima didn't know about them, maybe he knew elements of them, but only the cartel undoubtedly knew every single detail of their construction and layout. Most of the cartel wouldn't tell her a damn thing. But Tom-Tom would. Because Tom-Tom had no friends in the cartel at this point, and was clearly trying to do her own thing, no matter how... profoundly stupid it was. Tanner, in effect, had blackmail material. Offering her protection if the cartel decided to take care of her, for instance. Not that Vyuli, in her mind, would ever consider Tom-Tom a good hostage. He'd lost two of his other daughters, might not be too fussed with losing a third if he thought it necessary to the survival of his insane dream.

Gods, like father like daughter. Both of them interested in futures that were... vanishingly improbable. A criminal organisation couldn't rebuild a vanished state, an incompetent fisherwoman couldn't lead a bold exodus in the middle of midwinter.

The inn from last night was nearby, the one filled to the brim with smoke. No smoke now, nor any lights. Just a building full of blackened wood, the stench of old tobacco and old sweat. Appeared to have worked its way into the very fabric of the tables and chairs, even the walls had a strange lacquered sheen that made it seem as though the building had absorbed some vital essence from its patrons. The door had been locked, but a little hammering allowed her entrance from an innkeeper with clothes faded to a jaundice-yellow by continuous exposure to the smoke his inn seemed specialised in producing. No-one else. He barely spoke when Tanner talked to him, replying in dark mutters and a relentless monotone. Something in his eyes made her wary, something that made her think of an animal backed into a corner. Immediately, she came up with notions. He was nervous of the cartel retaliating for hosting Tom-Tom's little get-together. Nervous of everything general. Hostile towards investigations that could bring undue attention down on his establishment. Might as well get this over with.

"I'm... looking for Tom-Tom. Or Pyulmila, whichever name you know her by, I-"

"She's not here. Different inn, the Bloodied-Hero. Man there keeps rooms over the top, mostly for folk looking to avoid walking home in the cold. Or people who want a bigger bed to shag in."

Goodness.

"I... see. Thank you. I'll get out of your way."

"Do that."

Tanner smiled gently.

"If you feel that you need any protection, just come to the mansion, we'll be happy to sort something out."

The man glowered.

"No offence, lady, but I don't think you could. Couldn't stop any of the others, could you?"

Oh, this was nice.

No, genuinely nice. No sarcasm. Ms. Blue had unnerved her by being too positive about her infliction of violence and her brutish investigations, this was much nicer, much more accurate to her image of herself. She smiled again at him, and the man seemed to squirm slightly, backing off for a moment.

"The option is still open, sir. If you feel as if you need it. I do apologise for bothering you."

"Uh. Ah. Well. Ah. Please, miss, just... well, thanks for the offer, door's just here, sorry, can't be much more use, just out this way..."

His tone was much more conciliatory. Oh, that was worse. Insult her a little more, reference more failures, come on! Eh. Feh. Either way, she was very politely hurried out of the door, back into the cold. The innkeeper, still in a warm nightshirt, stumped back inside as quickly as humanly possible, closing the door with unusual gentleness - not waking anyone up, not implying an insult. Great. Another person she'd frightened a little.

Wonderful.

The Bloodied-Hero wasn't too far, and she started on her way...

When her ears pricked.

She could hear something. Out in the snow. No-one else was around, the snow concealed most noise, but... wandering around to find Tal-Sar, to flee Lyur, it'd sharpened her ears for the small crunches and squeaks of compressing snow. Even in harsh conditions, there were still tells. And... right now, she could hear some. Hear it clearly.

What was going on?

She started to walk as carefully as possible, her bag held tightly to her side from simple nervousness.

Sounded like...

Her eyes widened very slightly.

Sounded like a struggle.

She moved very quickly all of a sudden, keeping her steps as quiet as she could, just to avoid startling anyone. Struggle. Two people fighting in the middle of a cold midwinter morning, with enormously deep snowdrifts.

The sorts of conditions the bouncers loved when committing stealthy murders. Wouldn't find the bodies until spring. And at that point, there was nothing to be done but bury them and chalk them up to sad accidents.

Might be happening again.

She turned sharply...

And the two figures immediately froze where they were struggling, primordial fear taking over as a very large lady barrelled out of nowhere in total silence, her face as flat as a time-smoothed cliff face.

Guard in a greatcoat. Didn't know his name.

Civilian. Not a bouncer. Didn't have the truncheon, didn't recognise his face.

But he did have a knife. One he was trying to plunge into the soldier's throat.

Tanner didn't even think, she just swung her bag at the civilian, sending him sprawling into the side of a house. The soldier backed away quickly, eyes wide, and Tanner grabbed the civilian by his wrist, clenching until the knife fell out of his hand, and she could yank him forwards without fearing a sudden attack.

She knew neither of these people.

The soldier gasped a little, getting his breath back after the scuffle.

The civilian stared at her like he was resigned to being torn limb from limb by an enraged giantess.

Tanner glared, and tilted her head slightly towards the soldier.

"Are you alright?"

The soldier flushed, embarrassed.

"...fine, honoured judge. Fine. Would've had him a moment later, just got the jump on me."

"Why were you patrolling alone?"

The civilian gasped something out.

"Turd followed me, turd followed me down here, said he wanted to q-"

The soldier growled.

"Shut it. You saw his knife."

"Wanted to question me, I know what that means! Interrogate me, lock me up."

"Liar. Said I wanted to ask a question, not usual to see a man walking around at this hour, these conditions. He backed here, I followed, he pulled a knife and tried to gut me. Second longer, would've had him. Promise."

The civilian looked half-feral. His eyes were bulging, his unshaven face seemed almost animalistic, sweat beaded his forehead despite the chill. Nothing about him looked healthy or rational. Nothing whatsoever. Tanner glared at both of them.

"Civilian, you confirm that you pulled a knife on this soldier?"

The man mumbled to himself rapidly, unwilling to make eye contact.

"Not getting locked up. Not getting locked up, can't, won't."

Paranoid. Stuck in his house for days and days in the bitter cold. Seeing everything go to hell outside his door, the soldiers getting nervous, the cartel getting more active. Maybe even Tom-Tom spreading news of the mutants last night, given how close this was to the inn where she did that bit of foolishness. Already used to living in a place where bouncers could make you disappear, Erlize could do the same, everything was manipulated at some level... what choice did he have, get locked up by the soldiers, or get interrogated and freed, then interrogated by the cartel who'd be suspicious about what he said. The knife was small, designed for paring vegetables. He'd just been carrying it in his pocket, drawn it in a fit of complete awareness that, no matter what happened, he was done for.

And once more, the seeds the Erlize had sown bore rotten fruit. The cartel's intimidation festered further. The governor's control mechanisms crushed downwards. These weren't conditions ripe for good decisions.

She sighed, glancing at the soldier, who was looking distinctly vengeful.

"Do you have prison facilities?"

"We do. But assaulting a soldier, trying to murder-"

Tanner racked her brain. Gods, she felt... sick, a little sick, the snow, the brightness, it was making her vision swim a little, made her feel... what she imagined being drunk like. Looked like insects were crawling on the walls.

No, no, gone.

By all rights, she had no authority here. She had nothing. She was just... a judge, had the authority Canima gave her. Shouldn't overstep those boundaries. Just tell them to delay, go to Canima, go to the old man who was clearly straining at the edges and bother him, leave her alone and bother him instead. But... legally, even with ameliorating circumstances, this was still serious. Still very serious. Couldn't just violate the law because she knew all the context, context was the first refuge of those abrogating responsibility, that was what Sister Halima said. Hold by the law, and...

She spoke firmly and quickly.

"There are ameliorating circumstances. Just lock him up for now, and keep a close eye on him. I'll get back to you later on what's to be done. But nothing rough."

Her tone hardened, even as her heart pounded and sweat beaded the back of her neck, hidden by her coat.

"I want him totally intact before I make my judgement."

The soldier hesitated. He'd almost been killed by this man. A man who looked like he hadn't slept in days, and was weighed upon by a colony that was increasingly dysfunctional, insane, and on the brink of collapse. Might even know about the mutants. He was wavering... and Tanner leaned closer, her heart racing, everything about her screaming that she should back off and be more cautious and-

Her voice dropped to a murmur.

"If he's hurt while in custody, it affects the judgements I can make."

Somewhat true.

Guilt twisted through her.

The soldier sized her up... and a spark of understanding bloomed. He nodded smartly, grabbed the man by the arm, and removed a pair of manacles from his belt. Tanner leaned closer to the civilian.

"Don't resist, and try to get some sleep."

The man clearly wanted to object, to scream, to make a scene, to make it clear that this was against his will and he wasn't a snitch. Tanner loomed, and subconsciously strained her muscles until they popped a little, gripping her enormous bag, hand drifting to a truncheon... the man shivered. Intimidated.

And nodded quietly. The shock of being stopped had... done something to his system. Woken him up a little.

Tanner sighed as the two strode away, back towards the garrison.

She'd... lied.

She'd lied about the law. Misrepresented it totally. Taken authority she wasn't privy to. Bypassed her superior. Said things that simply weren't true, because... because it was necessary? Who did she think she was, dictating what was necessary?! What kind of lunatic... she'd thought that if she allowed the soldier to handle it, the man would be killed. Or, he'd be dragged to Canima, to the Erlize, and that would complicate things further. In the garrison, there were cartel loyalists who'd see him, report him, keep an eye. The soldiers would be happy to have imprisoned him. The cartel would be confident that Canima wasn't starting to round people up, making moves towards an offensive. All of it held together by Tanner lying about the law, and claiming authority she didn't have. Because while this wasn't settled, at least it was calmed. Could've had a dead body, and either of them dying would be a disaster right now. If she hadn't stumbled across...

It was one of those situations where she should've thought more about it. Should've... had the moment extended, a real wrestling match in her mind between necessity and principle, and...

And like all pivotal moments, it was sudden.

She had no choice but to work on instinct.

And on instinct, she'd... lied.

Broken the law.

Violated her principles as a judge.

Her stomach wasn't churning. That was the worst part. She wanted to be punished for this, she needed to be told that when she went beyond these restraints, she was dragged back. There needed to be punishment, and...

There was none.

It was just her. In the cold.

And she let out a long, shuddering breath.

Why didn't she feel worse?