CHAPTER NINETY-THREE - REDHEAD REUNIFICATION

There was no time for subtlety.

Might be time for subtlety, admittedly. But she didn't know how long she had until the mutants arrived. There were signs of their approach - the strange readings that Bayai had taken, the flight of the lesser mutants from the first crests of the red tide, Lantha's arrival, but... what else? They wouldn't stir up dust on the horizon, they wouldn't blow great war-trumpets and announce themselves grandly, they wouldn't even bellow a war-cry or chant a marching song, like any other army. Would just show up in silence, rip them apart in silence, depart in silence, having obtained whatever they were here for. If she even had an estimation... anyway. She stalked back downstairs, boots thumping loudly in the barren emptiness of the mansion. One maid, one drunk, one sad, sad old man, and a gaggle of soldiers expressly forbidden from going to any of the other floors. Colony in microcosm, really. Old men dismally out-of-place, be they Erlize officers, delusional Nalseri, or slowly decaying Rekidans. A few innocents, and people just trying to get on with their lives. And enough individuals specialised in violence to wipe out one another and everyone else.

And the whole place was eerily quiet. Like the colony beyond, which slumbered under a thick layer of snow, waiting for someone to start shooting.

Tanner's cape flapped around her, and she idly drew it closer around her shoulders. Needed something to tie it shut a little better. Hm. Idea. And-

Yan-Lam briefly metamorphosed into a cannonball. A very, very loud cannonball. Barrelling out of the study at top speed, dashing to Tanner, and promptly hugging her around the leg. Tanner froze. Held her axe very carefully - it quite literally weighed more than Yan-Lam's entire body, if she dropped it, there was a distinct possibility of the girl becoming spreadable. The girl didn't sob, thankfully. Just... glued herself to Tanner, and didn't leave for a solid few moments. Tanner was exceedingly glad Yan-Lam was the one doing this, and not Ms. Blue. If Ms. Blue tried to hug her, Tanner might actually just run away. With or without the woman dangling like a limpet.

"Hello, Yan-Lam."

She said in the politest, most refined tone she could possibly muster. Yan-Lam stared up. Blinked.

Stepped back.

Bowed slightly.

"Good afternoon, honoured judge."

Looked back up. Saw the axe. Saw the buffalo cloak. Saw... the look in her eyes.

"...have you been chopping wood, honoured judge?"

"No. No, I have not. I'm very sorry, I need to go back outside - some orders."

"...did you... did you find out who killed the governor?"

Tanner stared at her for a moment, piecing things together. Slowly, she crouched down, until the two of them were at eye-level. A judge wouldn't lie in any way that perverted the course of justice. And Tanner was already resigning herself to lying like an absolute bastard in order to keep things going. By all rights, she should lie to Yan-Lam. Tell her about some... convenient scapegoat, something nice and satisfactory, something easy. But... damn it all, the girl had helped Tanner. Helped her an incredible amount, as a copyist, a secretary, a chambermaid, just a source of company. She'd been instrumental in interrogating Tom-Tom. And she'd lost enough. Her father, and her employer, who, for all his other failings, had been shockingly decent towards her and her welfare.

Tanner could do what she pleased.

"Yes. I did. And I'm going to lie about it to the others - you can't tell anyone else, understand? Not unless I tell you."

The girl blinked. And a strange, strange smile spread over her features.

"Of course. I completely understand, miss. Completely. Though... who are you... going to blame?"

Tanner leaned closer. Murmured her idea. And Yan-Lam's smile broadened significantly.

"I see. Of course, I'll keep my trap shut."

Tilted her head to one side.

"Perhaps it would be unwise to tell me, though. If I'm captured and someone tries to get information out of me."

Tanner stared at her.

"If someone captures you and tries to get information out of you, I'll hit them. With my axe."

Now the girl looked downright surprised. Well, fair enough. Tanner wasn't exactly a violent individual. Not in her mind. In her mind, Tanner was probably a decent, refined, ordinary judge. She let other people perform violence. Fact was, though... Tanner had beaten grown men to a pulp, she'd thrashed a mutant until he was barely alive, she'd intimidated theurgists into working with her, she could hold this axe without feeling any significant strain... she didn't like violence, but she liked adrenaline, and she liked being able to take matters into her own hands and assert control. Violence was a tool, and by a cruel miracle, she was better at it than most people. Once upon a time, she might've preached more moderation. Now... now she'd come to realise that, if she hadn't chosen to be violent, to use her size and strength with unrestrained vigour, she'd have died after interrogating Tom-Tom, died in the meat labyrinth, died when returning to the mansion, or died in the underground river.

So here she was.

"I'll... actually introduce you to them. If you like."

"To... murderers?"

"You might want to meet them. Given that they're Rekidans. Original Rekidans, never fled the city, never went to the shantytown."

"Oh."

A pause.

"...oh my."

Tanner's train of thought was interrupted by the sound of movement downstairs. Sersa Bayai, sounded like. Tanner turned sharply to Yan-Lam.

"Go and fetch a coat and boots for yourself, may be going outside."

She blinked.

"...you haven't been outside in a while, have you?"

"Not really, miss. Busy, miss."

Helping Tanner out. Basically only left to interrogate Tom-Tom, then stayed glued indoors until now. Definitely needed more sunlight. Even it was pale and provided no warmth. And... well, there was another little victory. Tanner the judge wasn't... taking the fight to the cartel, that was someone else's job. If she left the mansion, she did so like a thief in the night, she moved quietly, she moved suddenly to avoid people tracking her, she acted like she wasn't in control of this place. Had to wait for Canima to reassert control, something that he'd abjectly failed at. Now she had authority. Now she had responsibility. Wasn't just a... a scared official, she was a person, she had resources, she could... gods, she was completely out of control, every so often panic flooded through her, the same panic she felt at the idea of getting on the wrong train, being stuck on her current route until it ended, no matter what. Fought it down, yes, but... but the point was, she had resources and allies. Huddling in fear from the cartel meant they won, it didn't just mean she was doing her duty and staying safe, it was actively losing.

And after the underground river, the thought of the cartel was... smaller. Easier to confront.

Easier to challenge.

Yan-Lam trotted off to fetch her things, and Tanner stepped into the study. Bayai would likely be up in a moment. Gave her time to... there. Her ribbons. Her many, many ribbons, that she always loved tying her cape together with. Old habit. Childhood habit, really. She ran her fingers over the old silk... and among them, the governor's old tie, with the prancing foxes. Calmly, quietly, she began to reinforce her buffalo cape with them, adjusting the fit... and then, with no great thought on the matter, she started to wrap more ribbons around her axe. The handle was a little slippery, didn't want to drop it because she had sweaty palms in the future. Her stomach roiled with the anti-contamination pills, and she felt the urge to puke up something, probably blood... fought it down. For now. She wasn't out of control or panicked, she was just... weathering a few nasty side-effects.

Didn't matter, either way. Had to keep going.

Bayai entered with only a cursory knock, and took a moment to remember that the enormous figure in the fur cloak turned away from him, working on an axe almost as tall as his whole body, was actually Tanner. Either way, he didn't salute, and his face was locked into a rictus of focus.

"Judge. Need to talk. Where's Canima?"

Tanner turned in silence, and handed him the letter. He scanned it rapidly, face making quite a number of interesting expressions. A flash of fear went through Tanner. Here was the first test. She'd intimidated a bunch of engineers, intimidated a defeated old man, could... Bayai was someone she knew, someone she worked with, someone who... who she could say she liked, though she wished she knew more about him, had been better at interacting and socialising, capable of developing a cordial acquaintance into an actual friendship. Something she'd... come to think of it, she'd never been capable of. Only 'friendship' had been initiated by someone else, and had turned out to be a complete sham. Wished she could know Bayai better. Knew she never would. Might as well wish that she could fit into a dress intended for someone normal-sized. Just not on the cards for people like her.

If he laughed in her face and told her to bog off and fetch Canima, then she'd... she'd have failed, this would be a childish grasp at responsibility and agency, and that'd be it. Not sure if she could intimidate him.

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

And he nodded curtly.

"Would you like for me to refer to you as governor, then?"

"Judge will do."

"Fine. Now, we need to talk - something happened while you were gone, only found out about it now. Done stealthily."

Oh. That wasn't... nothing stealthy was good.

"What is it?"

She straightened her back, kept her face absolutely flat.

"It's that damn fool. Tom-Tom, or Pyulmila, or whatever her name is. The damn fool woman is gone. Worse. She took a bunch of people with her. Looks to be... at least a few dozen."

Tanner froze.

"A few dozen? How could..."

"Tunnels, looks like to me. She climbed into them, ran through them, had a bunch of bouncers covering for her with the cartel. Means she was able to get out of the colony with a whole raft of supplies, and no-one was the wiser. Only found out because we had one of the people who'd been involved locked up, damn idiot tried to stab one of our own. Couldn't join them, on account of being locked up. Sold us information because he knew they'd left without him. We checked it out - houses are empty, all the ones he mentioned. People taking their clothes, their tools, supplies, everything. All the things you take when you're packing up your whole life. If the cartel weren't around, we'd have noticed, had patrols seeing people breaking curfew. But with things the way they are, we were stuck around the garrison, and they had the whole damn night to do what they pleased."

Tanner's grip around her axe tightened imperceptibly.

It was happening again. The cartel hiding inside the governor's corruption and the theurgists' infiltration, the nobles hiding inside a general stew of ignorance and strangeness, whole investigations going up in smoke because of conflicting priorities, layer upon layer upon layer, and now Tom-Tom riding on the fact that the cartel was paralysing the colony, which only happened because of pre-existing corruption, and... gah! Oh, all the nonsense layers of conspiracy and intrigue, allowing for more conspiracies and more intrigue to fester amidst them, when you built a house full of ten thousand secret passages and hidden chambers, you couldn't be surprised when you developed a rat infestation without noticing a damn thing.

Gah!

And suddenly her doubts were gone. Her fear of Bayai finding her out as a coward who was only slightly more competent than the alternatives because she wasn't bound by moronic parameters that made her useless. Oh, that fear was gone, completely gone, at least for now. Now she was just annoyed.

Was she out of control? Yes. But Tom-Tom was worse.

"Ah."

"No idea how the cartel's taking it, really. Don't imagine they're very happy. I'm certainly not. Not lost any of our soldiers, but... the worry is that the cartel will do something drastic to even the score, make up for the fact that they just lost a fair number of people, and a fair amount of credibility. Might decide that now is a good time to do something... unpleasant."

Tanner hummed, thinking...

Then she started to move. Yan-Lam was coming downstairs wrapped up in an enormous, thick coat, her face invisible behind a scarf, and she immediately trotted after Tanner as she left the mansion. Bayai was right behind the two of them. Idly, Tanner wondered if Marana would be coming... no, no, she was intoxicated in several ways at once, Tanner would deal with her later. Liked her, had a certain fondness for someone who'd been genuinely altruistic and helped her out on multiple occasions, but right now, she did not need a cocaine-addled middle-aged heiress wandering around in the centre of a crisis. She had too much on her plate, and she was also spinning this plate, along with several others. She had at least five plates, and all of them were filled with soup, and if she spilled a single drop from any of them, she'd... presumably regret it.

Again. Gah.

She spoke as she walked, her face absolutely flat, her voice absolutely calm, which meant she was rather furious.

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"I'll make contact with those new allies I've brought. If they can, they'll hunt Tom-Tom down."

Yan-Lam spoke with venomous softness.

"To kill her?"

Tanner glanced. A little worried at the eagerness in the tone. None of the worry entered her own voice, of course. That sounded as professional and calm as it always did.

Thank every god for that particular habit. Probably the one thing making her seem credible at this point.

"...no, to bring her back. We can't... deal with people running away. Undermines our defences, undermines confidence, gives the mutants a whole pile of bodies to harvest for more meat - every single one of those dozens of people are a mutant ready to happen, a new weapon, some better armour, another dead soldier who should've been fighting fewer creatures with weaker mutations. How many people know about this, Sersa?"

"Not sure. Doubt there's too many, but the news will spread. I'd give us less than a day before the whole damn colony knows something's wrong."

Meaning, more doomed evacuations, more panic, more tension, the cartel doing something stupid, a compromised defence, a stronger mutant army. Might already have them, for crying out loud.

"Understood. I'll try and take care of this quickly."

"...are you certain your new allies can... actually deal with any of this? I mean, if they're working in the tunnel system, and it's large enough-"

"They know about the tunnels."

They'd built the tunnels.

There was nothing else. Nothing but a few more clarifications - exact reports from soldiers, filed away into her memory-room. Little details that she could repeat to the nobles. Yan-Lam was sprinting to keep up with the two of them, and even Bayai was growing a little red-faced as Tanner marched along. Soldiers began to fill the streets, talking in low, furious voices, all of them armed, some of them looking ready to set off and hunt down the evacuees. If they abandoned their posts, they'd be shot on sight - didn't exactly breed a great deal of sympathy for the people they were going to die to protect, who were also aligned with a cartel that was happy to kill their own people. No wonder Bayai looked haggard, he wasn't just preparing for an invasion, he was actively stopping his men from doing some very, very silly things indeed. Her eyes roved over the groups, increasing in number as they approached the garrison.

Oddly, some of them seemed to be... huddling together and talking furtively, not the hushed fury of the others, something... well, the moment she came close, and they always knew when she was getting close, they clammed up and looked oddly ashamed.

Ms. Blue might know about that. Sersa Bayai... well, he was their commander, harder for him to be subtle. A flash of worry - were some of them willing to work with the cartel to stay alive and fed? Were some of them sympathising with the evacuees, wondering if it'd be worth going with them? She gritted her teeth. She said nothing to them, just went for the main gate, Bayai following behind her, rattling off pre-rehearsed platitudes to the men, calming them with promises of swift action and decisive victory, projecting an image of competence that... was only slightly undermined by his red, haggard face, and the slightly manic quality of his bloodshot eyes. Tanner attracted more than a few stares. Wherever she went, silence followed in her wake - Bayai's platitudes were met with indignant questions and vicious grumbles, but Tanner... Tanner just needed to stomp by, axe gleaming in the pale light, and they'd fall absolutely quiet until she left.

Imagined they could feel how furious she was.

And she was furious.

She emerged through the main gate with unerring strides, moving into the deeper snow, beyond the range of the others. Bayai followed hesitantly, and Yan-Lam clung close to her heels, unwilling to let her out of sight.

She stopped.

Reached the place.

Bayai panted as he slowed to a halt, and looked around blearily.

"...sorry to ask, but who exactly are these allies?"

"Whatever you do, neither of you scream, run, or panic when you see them."

"...pardon?"

"Sorry."

The voice was rumbling. Poetic. Infused with kingly command.

Emerging from beneath the snow.

The General rose up with a startling amount of dignity for someone who'd voluntarily buried himself in snow, and who dripped with the stuff until he resembled a particularly odd snowman. His face creaked into a welcoming smile, and Bayai let out a slightly girlish squeak as a large hand descended onto his shoulder. Yan-Lam paled, and Tanner felt the odd sensation of her... oh, she'd actually slid underneath her large skirt, and was currently hiding around one of her stocking-clad legs, shivering like a leaf. Well. That was... effective. Nearby, sliding over gracefully on his snow-shoes, All-Name emerged from behind a snowdrift, scars gleaming a little and giving him a paralysed look that wasn't... dissimilar to the governor, a fact that Bayai definitely noticed with a small flinch.

"The General wishes to apologise for the surprise, sir, but he thought it would be less alarming than suddenly being surrounded by all of us."

Bayai's voice rose an octave.

"All of you?"

All-Name bowed stiffly at the waist, red hair flicking in front of him like he was tipping a hat.

"My name is All-Name, and as appointed translator of the General, I bid you a highly belated welcome to our country."

Bayai's voice rose another octave, and Tanner blinked in surprise. Didn't know he was a soprano.

"Our?"

And the others began to slither out of the dunes, emerging from beneath the snow with oddly happy shivers, relishing in simply being out of the dark, dank tunnels. Their red cloaks fanned behind them, their red hair waved like lion's manes, their mutated forms were softened by the heaps of snow which clung stubbornly to them, and their ruptured eyes crinkled in vague amusement at the sight of the foreign soldier turning some very interesting shades of purple and white. Looked like a pile of mulberries and cream, he did.

"Sorry, Sersa. These are... well, the nobles of Rekida. They lived. Some of them, anyway."

He stared at her. She shrugged guiltily.

"They gave me the axe."

A rustling came from beneath her, and Yan-Lam poked her head out from beneath the skirt, glaring at the assembled crowd with defiant terror in her eyes... All-Name noticed her, given his stiff bowing position, and blinked in surprise.

"Oh my."

The General followed his gaze, and his enormous face split into a smile of... genuine happiness at the sight of the girl. He spoke a little, and All-Name translated quickly.

"We were... not aware of many survivors returning. We assumed they'd be content in exile."

A pause.

"He is flattered by her loyalty, but says he does not require a chambermaid at present."

Tanner felt a spark of anger waking up in her, and she retorted firmly.

"She's my chambermaid, thank you. Remunerated for her services. And she returned because her father did."

Not a slave. Definitely not a slave, and not coming back because of loyalty to... well... Tanner was working with the nobles, but if she was asked to restore their way of doing things, she'd quite contentedly reject the offer. No matter the price offered, she had standards. And Tal-Sar's stories stuck with her - slaves picking the snow from the eyes of the wall-gods, growing sick from frostbite and tumbling to the ground far below. Or the General - slaves being mutated for the sake of combat. Slaves being crammed into fairly tiny lodgings in tight bunks, while the nobles lived in sprawling palaces and soaring towers. She was happy to work with the nobles as soldiers. But nothing more. If they weren't already dying, she'd be a hell of a lot more conflicted working with them.

The General listened to the translation, and nodded slowly.

"He does not object to this arrangement. And extends the exile of her father to her, regarding her as only slightly above a foreigner in the great chain of existence."

Yan-Lam looked faintly indignant at that, but said nothing, unsure of the broader context. Once again, the General didn't look... angry, or mocking when he said this. Not sure if he was just a noble who knew how to avoid showing emotions, or if he was legitimately dispassionate on the topic. Whatever the case, she was just glad nothing was... breaking out. Whatever that might be. Bayai managed to get out a few words at a recognisable pitch, though it was still inching towards the domain of the castrati.

"I... see."

He coughed, trying to regain a little dignity. Shot Tanner a look of genuine concern, wondering... well... whatever he was looking for, it seemingly satisfied him. No idea what, precisely. Tanner's face was just as flat as it always was, her tone as level as it always was, her entire demeanour stiff and unyielding. In no way was she remotely different to how she always acted when panicked. And she was always panicked, in some way, for some reason.

"...as acting governor, with the approval of relevant authorities, I accept your right to accept... unusual auxiliaries into our forces, provided a guarantee that they won't... degenerate, and accept the necessity of euthanasia if they grow too inhuman to be considered safe to fight alongside."

"They're aware of the necessity."

"Hm. I see. And... you can guarantee that they won't... succumb?"

Bayai licked his lips, clearly uncomfortable with raising these questions in front of the mutants.

"You can guarantee they won't just join the mutants? If these are... mutants equivalent to the Great War, if they cooperate in large numbers without infighting, how can... you remain immune?"

Tanner and All-Name glanced at one another. More convincing if she said it.

"You remember Lantha. Remember how she actually maintained her sanity for a long while, even when she was... starting to fall under control. And that was with mutants that did intend to mutate her brain, they just saved it for last. This group has learned how to keep contamination away from their brains, they started mutating during the Great War, and remained outside of their control."

"That was rather some time ago."

All-Name interjected.

"I have been given permission to tell you that we have tactics that... specialise in keeping our heads clear. We coat our skin with certain ointments, we take regular courses of pills, we use filters, we have collars that can restrain the flow of contamination to the skull. And we fight at a distance, create minimal circumstances where contamination is possible. And we are perfectly content with giving mercy to our own when their minds begin to slip. The ones arrayed here are our most stable."

Tanner desperately hoped this was true. She believed it, yes, but... well, with things like this, where all she had was another's word and the sight of the mutants playing in the snow earlier that day... there was a degree of faith. Seventy down below, insane as could be. Wondered if they'd be willing to go and euthanise them now, just to be safe. She made a note to ask, or at least to make sure there were precautions against them rising up through the earth, enemies from within. Bayai let out a long, reluctant sigh.

"...good. Good. Though... could you ask them to wear gas masks? We can... modify some, if possible. It's just for our safety, you understand. And yours, of course."

All-Name relayed the request, and the General shrugged vaguely, indicating complete ambivalence. Tanner had a sudden thought at the mention of gas masks, and looked around... ah. There she was. Watching from a distance, curious, unwilling to approach while a soldier lingered. Aware of how soldiers tended to behave. Wondered if the mutant girl thought of him as some sort of exotic animal, seeing his green greatcoat like a normal animal would see the bright colours of a poisonous snake. Or maybe she was completely aware of what soldiers were, and simply had no reason to talk about it. Whatever the case, she watched with the calm confidence of a scavenger watching the build-up to a massacre. Rather like having a vulture circle over her head, drooling contentedly.

Bayai murmured a few more clarifications. But the deal was being struck. He'd go out and make sure the soldiers back in the garrison were... not going to unleash a hail of fire upon the mutants when they showed their faces. But he was firm on one point - they couldn't go into the colony, not now, not with things as they were. Things were delicate enough with two factions competing, adding another group would just... well, it'd destabilise things. Oddly, Tanner was just pleased with the fact that she had a force all to her own. The mutants had no love for Fidelizh, no love for Nalser, but she was the only one who could offer them some sort of bargain that stood a chance of enduring - Bayai and his bunch were beholden to the Golden Parliament, and the Nasleri had a hundred reasons to wipe out the original inhabitants of this place. Hard to take over a city when the old nobility were sitting around, watching you desecrate their homes, invading their tunnels, aping out their rites with dreadful simplicity.

The only person the nobles could vaguely count on to support their peaceful retirement was her. Because she didn't care about ruling with an iron fist until the end of time, she had no grand designs for the colony beyond its survival.

There was a little more discussion, but Tanner was already sizing them up, wondering... ah. Had an idea for how to proceed.

"I need someone to guide me through the tunnels. A number of people have evacuated. I want them brought back."

The clarifications came to a halt. The General watched her levelly as All-Name translated... then rumbled an incomprehensible response, while Yan-Lam extricated herself from underneath Tanner's skirt with all the dignity she could muster - if Bayai was chatting professionally with this bunch, if Tanner was working with them, then presumably they were decent enough, at least in her eyes. Anyway, that was Tanner's reading of her expression, which subsided back to the usual practised calm that she maintained so effectively. Well. Most of the time.

"Where will these... deserters be going? And what punishment would you visit upon them? In Rekida, the punishment for desertion was decimation, a reduction by a factor of ten, with the remaining nine-tenths compelled to perform the executions. Of course, we can always just eradicate them, if you think it necessary. But that would, in the General's opinion, be a little uncivilised."

But the execution of one-tenth by the other nine-tenths was, obviously, completely fine, civilised, refined, and polite.

"Won't be necessary. And they're heading..."

She squeezed her brain cells until they leaked the sweet juice of memory into her consciousness.

"That direction, I think. To the docks just by the side of the river."

Bayai blinked, hummed...

"It's... three days journey by carriage, in good conditions."

All-Name consulted with his general, and shook his head adamantly.

"Not if you have access to some of the tunnels. The network becomes significantly less complex out there, more degraded, but if you're willing to make occasional sojourns on the surface, you can make it most of the way while completely sheltered."

A flash of worry across the soldier's face.

"The tunnels extend that far?"

The General laughed politely, and explained in rich, plummy tones, that sadly All-Name didn't try to imitate.

"...the General wishes to note that we spent a great deal of time here. Rekida, I mean. And if we didn't build things, we'd have nothing else to do. Built the walls as high as we could, built palaces, built towers and temples, and after a point we had no direction to built but down. We may have gotten a little carried away."

Silence for a moment. Yan-Lam spoke very quietly.

"You could have built outwards."

All-Name looked at her like she'd just vomited down his front - probably slightly aghast at her accent, or the presumption of an exiled daughter of a slave talking to him, the last scion of every noble line at once. His words were clipped and short.

"That would have been improper. The walls were already done, building houses outside of them would dishonour the gods."

The girl nodded rapidly, mouth glued shut with tension. Tanner was getting the feeling that... well, see, after the Great War, there'd been a bit of a crash when it came to certain factories. No-one needed as many guns, as many flamethrowers, as much fuel and ammunition. The war effort had been a hungry, hungry beast, and once the risk of immediate extinction was gone, everyone involved had nothing to do but stare at the enormous bill they'd racked up on equipment. War demanded resources as quickly as it consumed them. Rekida was an isolated place which made itself basically immune to invasion, and it had a giant underclass of slaves locked up inside, so it had to use them for something. Letting them stew in their own misery would probably be a recipe for ruin. Presumably that was why they'd used them for blood sports, used them to do intensely dangerous jobs, forced them to build, build, build, dig, dig, dig... the work could never cease, because if people stopped expanding, they might look inwards.

And introspection on the state of things had led to the underclass running off and leaving the nobles to die.

Didn't share her little thought with anyone, of course. Kept it to herself. Right, so... the tunnels were expansive, but once you got out far enough, the number would significantly decline. There was a little more discussion about the routes one could take, the pace Tom-Tom's group would be setting... they'd move quickly underground, even Tanner's carriage here had to contend with the snow, with the landscape, with the shortness of days. They'd be immune to both, suspended in endless subterranean night, only stopping when they were tired. Could move with startling speed, really - the mutants had their own estimations, and put together a decent prediction for where they'd be, revealed after a fair amount of deliberation in their secretive, rumbling language.

If she hadn't brought them up, Tom-Tom's group might as well be irretrievably gone. They knew her route, her speed, her methods, everything. Could even hazard a guess for where they'd entered the network.

Tanner put together a few plans on the spot. Wouldn't need many, just a few. These were a few dozen civilians, terrified of the approaching horde. Not a trained army. Not a genuine revolution. And if she brought too many... either way. One of the mutants stepped forward after the General clicked his tongue imperiously - it was the huge one. Mr. Horn, with his back weighed with endless black growths, and his arms straining to carry all the ammunition and supplies they'd need for the war ahead. With a slight sigh of relief, he set them all down on the ground, to disperse amongst the others, and ran an enormous, powerful hand through his shaggy mane of red hair, displacing the great quantity of snow he'd accumulated. He smiled faintly at Tanner, his vast face moving strangely as it did so, not quite designed for expressions at this point. To be fair, most of the mutants had very human faces, their bodies were generally the most intensely mutated. More proof of their general stability. Hopefully.

"The General would like to offer you a steed, if you should require it. A small group will go through the tunnels to prevent retreat. And he can carry you to the point where they'll emerge back onto the surface, at least briefly."

Tanner swallowed down her trepidation, and fumbled for a gas mask that she'd... left back in the colony. A murmured command to Yan-Lam sent her scurrying off with orders to retrieve it, or at least something. Tanner pulled her buffalo-hide cloak around herself tightly, knotting the ribbons until the cold air was held out as best she could manage, using the motions to steady her breathing and heart rate. Bayai was openly staring at her in a mixture of disbelief and... something else she couldn't quite identify. Her face was flat with nervousness, her voice low and calm.

"Bayai, you have permission to act as you need to while I'm gone. They've had less than a full day to escape, I doubt we'll need long to get them back."

A pause.

"I might need to have a quick jaunt to the settlement by the river, too. See if anyone there needs evacuation. While I'm gone, could you send some men to retrieve anyone living in the chained towers? Leave some soldiers as lookouts, of course, but see if you can get Beldol and Tal-Sar back to the mansion."

She glanced at All-Name.

"Are there tunnels leading to the towers?"

"Yes, judge."

"Good. Show the soldiers how to use them, keep things moving quickly. The rest of you, stay outside the colony for now, once I'm back we'll look into giving you proper accommodation."

If they could manage it. If the civilians didn't look likely to revolt on the spot. Nods all around, mumbles of agreement once All-Name conveyed the request. Ms. Sulphur, the one who'd maternally nipped off mutation from All-Name's ear, with the living bear-belt and the rust spreading over her skin, stepped forward and...

Pinched Tanner's cheek boldly, smiling broadly.

Tanner didn't react. Much too terrified for that. Just waited for it to be over. Gods, it was like if Marana had become a horrifically altered mutant - the same slightly mocking look, combined with an odd core of genuine affection. An inability to take things totally seriously, a slight irony tinting every last expression. Well, if she focused on that, it was downright bearable. Almost.

She nodded at the mutant, curtly. Yes, yes, I get the joke, very funny, back in line.

And, underneath that thought, oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods-

Bayai was staring at her as Ms. Sulphur retreated back to the crowd, humming a song Tanner didn't recognise, that sounded both cheerful and mournful from second to second.

"Bayai?"

He stared.

Nodded obediently.

"I'll do what I can. Actually - I'll run a little interference for you, if you like. The cartel might get nervous, once we start poking around the tunnels. See if we can keep them off-balance, give you some breathing room when you get back."

Tanner hummed thoughtfully.

"...try to avoid worrying them too much. Don't want a war on our hands. Maybe... run some drills, or something? Just keep the soldiers occupied, visible, that sort of thing. Not expanding, not retreating, but clearly doing things."

A small bark of laughter, quickly silenced.

"Oh, I think we can definitely manage a few drills. Make camp, break camp, pack and unpack gear, clear guns."

"Sounds good. Ah, Yan-Lam..."

The girl's face was red as her hair as she placed a gas mask obediently into Tanner's outstretched hand, struggling to restrain her undignified panting. The Rekidans shot her... odd looks, still processing the bizarre mix of known and unknown, a Rekidan face with a foreign accent, a slave's name and the air of someone who wasn't used to being ground under a boot-heel her whole life. Petty as it was, Tanner did feel a small swell of pride at that. The shantytown was a miserable place, the Erlize were an unpleasant organisation, and chambermaids were hardly high on the social ladder, but... hell, they'd done better by her than this bunch ever would. Gave her a feeling of being, somehow, correct. Like she'd maintained a few standards, even as she descended deeper into the mire. Then she thought of how the nobles had maintained their aura of imperial command, their rites, their etiquette, all of it while dwelling in the darkness and the damp, keeping their pride going even in the gutter... and the pride faded, just a little. Didn't like seeing comparisons, liked seeing differences, the more the better. All thoughts silence by the feeling of the filter intruding into her breathing once more... a mixture between familiar and unpleasant, claustrophobic and comforting. Whatever the case, it was predictable, even if the mask was a smaller, lesser version than the one from the underground river. That one might need to be melted down before it was safe enough to handle with bare hands, at least, without getting decontaminated immediately.

Felt like lacing up the back of a particularly sturdy corset. Lacing herself back to a state of refined tension - back to the simple binary of the river, survive or perish, succeed or fail. Squeezing out some of her doubts that were trying to reform in her gut.

"Well."

She nodded firmly.

"Good luck, miss."

Yan-Lam's voice was quiet and uncertain, and she shuffled away to stand near Bayai, while the other mutants milled around to get to their own positions.

"Good luck, honoured judge."

Tanner had no idea how to respond.

Quick, quick, think, think...

"Oh. Ah."

A pause.

"You too."

Stick to the classics.