“I sure do,” Goell said, her face not changing. “You don’t want to eat first?”

“Not really.”

“I understand. Have you received a card yet?”

Mateo took a sip of beer. Goell stretched, resting her arm on the windowsill with her hand out the window, twisting her fingers in the wind. She waited.

“I have,” he said.

“May I see it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Mateo shrugged. “I don’t trust you.”

“Of course. Mateo if I wanted anything from you, anything at all, I could take it. You understand that don’t you?”

Mateo didn’t respond.

“It’s not a threat. That’s just your life now. Due to an impressive chain of serendipity, you have become just slightly important enough to be noticed. For a cape as weak as you, this is an extremely dangerous thing. Although I suppose technically, the one thing I can’t take is your Fisher card.”

Mateo raised an eyebrow. He figured if he kept his mouth shut, he’d tease her into as much talk as possible before he showed his cards, both literal and figurative. She went on:

“Nor can you lose it. The Fisher doesn’t allow that. Here, I’ll trade you.”

Goell took something out of her pants pocket and placed it on the table: a porcelain key card.

“And this is?” Mateo asked. He picked it up. It indeed felt like it was made from porcelain.

“A keycard to the Ennui .”

He frowned. “Right.”

“A private club for well connected individuals in the city, and for Holders. It has many purposes and uses, but importantly it contains the facilities you will need to develop your Mantle.”

“And those are?”

“Mantles rarely talk about it, and what I do understand I’d struggle to explain. There is art and equipment involved in developing a Mantle. Go tomorrow and see for yourself.”

Mateo thought about it for a long time, his index and middle fingers pinning the card to the table. Then he swept it up and put it in his pocket, pulling out the Fisher card and passing it to Goell. She looked at it for a long time. While she looked, Mateo finished off the last of his beer and ordered another.

“I’ve always thought the Aces were particularly beautiful,” she said, almost whispering. “Do you know its significance?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you kill a Mantled, you keep their card.”

“Oh,” said Mateo. He thought about it, trying to gauge the significance of this. “Fine,” he said. “So what?”

“These cards are the gift of an extremely powerful being. There have been Mantled who have successfully collected an entire deck of Trumps, hunting and killing other capes that have a particular card they want. After all, you have to catch them at the right time, before their card changes.” Mateo watched her, silent. She leaned in. “Alone, the cards are fairly mundane—a mark of power. Occasionally they contain a message from the Fisher regarding something important in the life of the cape he gives it to. But as a collection, within the context of other cards, many believe they can read the future.”

“What?”

“Quite. A rare power indeed in our city of godlings. The Fisher herself often speaks of the future, and what it says invariably comes true, one way or another. And she has his own deck and has been known to conduct readings for its favourites.” Goell shook her head. There was passion in how she spoke, a calculated gap in her composure. “But for a lesser being to even glimpse it? That is a powerful thing. In readings, the Ace of Sands signifies new beginnings, potential, creativity. It symbolises the passing of something away, the barren emptiness of an old life, or an unwatered field. Reading Fisher cards is art, not science.” Goell sighed. “I cannot keep cards myself, as I have no Mantle.” She paused, letting it all sink in. Then she handed back the card and said, faintly: “Did he hand you the card herself?”

“No,” said Mateo. “It fell out of a book.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Why?”

“He has been known to hand them out to… her favourites. But a synchronous delivery is of far more common. It probably delivers several a day, there are so many capes these days.”

“Seems you’re a bit of an expert, Goell.”

“There are no experts when it comes to the Fisher Fool. But yes, I am an enthusiast.”

“Whatever. I showed you the card. Tell me what you know.”

She shrugged. “Very little. No one really knows anything about the Fisher. There are stories about her. Old stories, written in langauges used before Tinjouki was founded. Whatever constellation it commands surely revolves around mystery, augury, movement, time. I’m not sure, no one is. But he’s harmless. There are no known reports of it hurting anyone, ever, at least not directly.”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Does it ever help?”

Goell smiled. Their zurek had arrived. “Yes,” she said. “In small ways that might be very big, sometimes she does.” She took a spoonful of zurek, blew on it, and slurped it down, moaning faintly. She dabbed at her lips with a napkin and held a hand over the soup. It started to swirl, steam pouring off it. She gestured and he nodded and she cooled his.

“You keep changing pronouns. That seems inconvenient.”

“Very,” agreed Goell, finishing her beer and spooning up soup between chunks of words. “However I have good—intelligence that it is its—preference, and I am a bit of a stickler for treating—Gods however they prefer.”

Mateo nodded. He started on his soup. It was delicious. A few moments passed as they both ate in silence.

“You used the term constellation, just now. I’m not familiar with it.”

Goell didn’t reply. She was spooning up soup.

“What does it mean?”

Goell paused. She put her spoon down.

“Sure. But tell me first, how do you think a Mantle works?”

She watched him. He had a spoonfulhimself, thinking about it.

“I have no idea,” he said, honestly. “All I ever hear is stories. Truth be told, I never really cared. It always seemed so abstract.”

“Well, have a go.”

“Stars fall from the sky sometimes. This started like, 700 years ago, near the beginning of Tinjouki. I don’t really know how it works but somehow people end up with Mantles due to this. So I gue—”

“Wait,” said Goell. “You don’t? You’re an amnesiac?”

“What?”

“You don’t remember integration? Binding your Mantle?”

“Oh.” He paused. “No.”

“Interesting.”

“Fascinating, I’m sure,” said Mateo, scowling.

“Only the most potent Mantles cause a wipe, Mateo.” She winked. “You’re lucky. Very, as far as I can tell. You’ll remember soon, when your mind is ready.”

“Oh,” said Mateo, placated.

“Go on.”

“Right. Well you get a Mantle, somehow, and it comes with a power or with a set of powers. And you get stronger, I don’t know how. But I did suck up music when I killed that Peep and my—” he stopped. He had being going to say ‘and my Mantle told me that this is how I get stronger’ but he stopped himself. If not all Mantles forced amnesia, did they all talk? Better to keep some secrets. “And my body felt stronger afterwards,” he finished, instead.

Goell nodded. “You still hungry?” she asked.

“Absolutely.”

Goell ordered them both a bowl of pork udon and a couple more beers.

“A constellation is a set of Mantles,” she said. “It is uncommon, although not unheard of, for a single Mantle to bestow multiple powers. However it is possible sometimes to excise a Mantle from a corpse and graft it onto ones own, thus embellishing the cape with additional power. Doing this is part art, part chemistry, and part mysticism. There are some groups who’ve attempted to make a science of it, but they are not within Executive purview. Most capes who can express multiple distinct powers have successfully performed this procedure, although it can be confusing considering the proliferation of Bulbs in modern Tinjouki. The most powerful capes have an entire array of complimentary Mantles at their disposal. As I’ve said, there is an element of chemistry to this. Some Mantles play better than others. A well balanced, symbiotic combination of Mantles is called a constellation.”

Mateo nodded. Their beers arrived and they clinked them together. He had to admit he was beginning to like Goell. She didn’t mess around. “What happens if it’s a bad combination?” he asked.

“The bearer mutates into a monster. Sometimes they just die.”

“I see.”

“It is generally accepted that this is what happens with Eggmen, that at the highest power level there is no mix of Mantles which is stable. The Fisher Fool may be the exception to this rule, which is why I treat it with such respect.”

“Are there others?”

“Exceptions?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah. That’s classified. By the way, which do you prefer—Smoke or Mateo.”

“Smoke.” He said. That’s classified, huh? Interesting. “I see. What about Rajore. He’s not insane, is he? So he has a well balanced ‘constellation’ as well?”

“That would be logical, yes.”

“But you said that the Eggmen are all insane and unbalanced. So that would suggest that each constellation has a limited power level, and that were you to exceed it, the constellation would no longer sit peacefully and you’d lose it. So somebody like Rajore might be stuck as strong as he can get. No?”

Goell was smiling. “I couldn’t possibly comment, Smoke.”

He nodded. Their udon arrived and they spent another period quietly eating. Mateo thought about what to say next.

“Okay,” he said. “Well, what do you want to tell me? Lead the way, I don’t even know what to ask you.”

Goell nodded. “Sure. Gotta say, I like you’re attitude, Smoke. I’d heard you were difficult to work with.”

He shrugged.

“Okay, well let me put it this way. There are worlds within worlds in this city and so far, you have been welcome in only one of them: the mundane world. Now you are welcome to a new world, the world of Mantled. And that is a special thing. It means that an entirely different set of rules apply to you now. Consider what I have just said. If a powerful Mantled wants to become more so, what would their best strategy be?”

This was obvious to Mateo. The same thing had already occurred to him. “They would prey on weaker capes and steal their Mantle.”

“Exactly. Steal their song, mostly. You misunderstand how difficult it is to graft a foreign Mantle. But either way, you are now a target. Not only that, you’ve slain a Peep and stolen the item. It is very infrequent that Dandelion loses a Peep. He wants you.”

Mateo nodded. “Fine. I suspected as much. You’re suggesting I need protection.”

“Perhaps ‘allies’ is a better word. There’s a reason so few Mantled operate alone in this city.”

He saw where this was going. “So, what, you want me to sign up to join the Executive Branch?” he asked.

“Would you?” she said, simply.

“No.”

“I figured. That’s fine, I’m not here to conscript you. Can I ask you why not?”

“I have no interest in sticking on a white dress and dancing around the city, smiling for the cameras.”

Goell grimaced. “You grossly underestimate the activity of the Executive Bannermen, but I won’t try to convince you. Mateo, let me show you something.”

Goell stood and went to her coat, rifling through it. She came back with a small medical box exactly the same as the design for the larger one he had just handed over. She placed it on the table.

“It is only a matter of time before Dandelion finds you. We’ve slowed him down by arresting the man you know as Phelix. He’s being processed as we speak. But once we put him in Moletown the Kid’s people will get to him, and that’ll happen tonight. That’ll get him your face. The’ll use a mindfucker and pull it right out of his neocortex. And I’m confident that Dandelion will find Wisely before the morning.

“Smoke, I’m not creating leverage here. Please see that. It already exists. You create it with every action you take and soon, someone is going to pull on it. No-one can survive in a vacuum. Dandelion will find Wisely tonight, extract what he needs, and then kill him. Nothing you can do will stop that. Agree to work with me and I’ll have him moved before we finish our noodles. The Kid considers every star that falls outside of the Park to be his property. Once he knows your name and your face, you’re his man, or you’re dead. I can’t protect you at that point. The cat will be out of the proverbial bag. Do you understand me?”

Mateo finished his udon and his beer, thinking it over, probing Goell’s line of argument for any flaws. He found none. Such was the way of the world: he’d had to strike a deal with Leitz to get his F-bike. He’d have to strike a deal with Goell to get out of the mess he was in, even if he knew it was just moving him to another one. They might talk a big talk, but it was unlikely the Executives would hurt his family unless they had to. The same couldn’t be said of the Cretes.

“I understand,” he said at last. “Clearly you want something from me. What is it?”

“Join my team.”

Mateo slammed his fist against the window frame, cracking the wood.

“You want me to turn Roach?”

Goell smiled. “I do. Although I prefer the term ‘operative’. It’s a lot sexier. In return for your cooperation passing on information and performing certain minor tasks for the Executive Branch, I’m prepared to offer you three things. Firstly, I will obfuscate all evidence attached to your callsign, such as moving Wisely to a secure location and sending Phelix to the counter-terrorist wing of the Moletown where the Cretes don’t have access. That is my first offer.

“Secondly, I will help provide resources and advice to enable toe strengthening of your Mantle. The keycard I have already given you is an example with that, and the facilities provided will be entirely essential to your development. Without access to certain key resources, you will quickly be stunned, and in fact your Mantle will begin to digest itself. This is very dangerous.”

She picked up the small medical box and gestured with it.

“Inside this cask is a Bulb, an organic biomedical contraption which is capable of complimenting and enhancing the miracles produced by a Mantle. We have selected it fairly carefully and are confident it will significantly improve the utility of your power. Specifically, this Bulb is a hyper-tensile-mucal-sprout, commonly referred to as a stick-sprout Bulb. It is valued roughly at 10,000 X, and is how you are being payed for the item you returned. In order to use it, take it with you to the Ennui and bring it into the facilities with you. The rest you will have to figure out on your own.”

She slid the box across the table. Mateo didn’t move.

“You’ll need star song do grow and develop your Mantle, you can’t just do it with Bulbs and hard work. But you will have to find your own source of that, as I am not authorised to provide star song to unlicensed operatives. And I recommend you do, because if you don’t continue to feed your Mantle it will eat you from the inside out and then you will die, quite painfully. I’ve seen it happen more times than you’d believe. It’s why people like Dandelion value the lives of the Mantled so lowly, even lower than those of civilians. Mantled are like sharks, Smoke. You move forward or you die.”

Mateo shook his head and stayed silent, gazing out the window. The night was was cool and quiet. Yanju felt like it was a million miles away from the toxic bustle of central Six. He already knew his answer, but he didn’t like it. He knew he was being played. He’d just have to let her play him and wait for his moment. Eventually spoke.

“You said you had three offers. What’s third?”

Goell spoke with the calculated, steady allure of a woman toying with her prey. Her the tone was that of the seducer, her eyes seemed to glimmer with a kind of triumphant light.

“Work for me, prove your value and that you can be trusted, and I’ll do a lot more than give you expensive toys, Smoke. I can get you into the Park. I can get you a synthcard.”

She should have lead with it.