“Gone?” said Malone in dismay.

Ambassador Mornwell nodded and beckoned the former batman to follow him into a conference room, where they could talk away from all the Helberion citizens currently crowding the embassy, all seeking reassurance concerning the current state of the war with Carrow. Most of them were directed towards a noticeboard the embassy staff had set up in the reception room on which the latest news was being posted. Malone had glanced at it himself on the way in, and was alarmed to see that Carrow troops were now within fifty miles of Marboll. The enemy had apparently made fast progress across the Tweenlands, but another notice pinned just below it stated that Helberion’s gallant defenders had stalled their advance, and that they soon expected to be able to push the enemy back. Malone had wondered whether that was the truth or just propaganda.

Mornwell closed the door behind them and hurriedly gathered up some books and papers that had been left on the table after a previous meeting. Then he gestured for Malone to take a chair. “He was summoned away by the King, for an urgent mission,” he said, taking another chair beside him. “He didn't just abandon you, though. He asked that a member of the embassy staff go to the King's Shilling every week, in case you were able to make contact. He wanted you told to end your mission and return to Helberion. He was concerned that you were in too much danger.”

“I can take care of myself!” protested Malone indignantly. “I found out who’s in control of the popular uprising! It's an aristocrat, a Lord. Lord Benjamin Hedley! He's using his money to buy guns for the rebels!”

“Is he now. I know him, I met him once, at an Imperial reception. The Emperor will be shocked, I understand that Lord Benjamin is a personal friend of his.”

“It's the truth! I saw him speaking to a Radiant, I saw him interrogating a couple of Imperial agents he'd captured! I... I was there when one of them died...”

“Easy, Lad. I wasn't doubting you. The Brigadier trusted you, and so I do. If you say he’s involved, then I believe you. The Kelvon authorities may need convincing, though.”

“Well, all we can do is pass on what we know and leave it in their hands. Where did the Brigadier go? I have to join up with him. He’ll need me.”

“You can't leave just yet, I'm afraid. The Kelvon authorities will want to interview you, so you can tell them everything you learned while undercover...”

“I've just told you! Lord Benjamin Hedley...”

“Yes, yes, but they can't arrest him just on your word, especially if you've gone swanning off on another adventure. If you can stand up in a Kelvon court of law and give proper testimony, under oath and with cross examination from a defence attorney, then your word will have weight. They'll be able to bring him in, interview him under caution. If it’s just me telling them that I heard it from someone, though, well, hearsay evidence carried no weight at all, I'm afraid. They need you here for a few days longer.”

“No! I have to go after the Brigadier!”

“He's gone, Lad. Took a train east. There's no way you can catch him, even if you left now. You've done great work, but it'll all be for nothing unless you can present it to a Kelvon court in person.”

Malone didn't like the sound of that at all, though. Once they started questioning him, it was sure to come out that he'd been the one who’d killed the Imperial agent. Two Imperial agents, counting the one in the Bramble Road warehouse, and the fact that there’d been no way he could have saved them probably wouldn’t cut much ice. All they would care about, probably, was that he’d been the one who'd done the deed. The circumstances might be an extenuating circumstance, but once he was in the hands of the Kelvon authorities it was likely that he'd never see freedom again, and the Brigadier's warning about their fondness for the death penalty came back to him, making him shudder. “They can investigate him! Find evidence against him! Now that they know who to look at, they'll soon find enough evidence to hang him!”

“They're stretched too thin, Lad. There's trouble all across the Empire now. Strikes and riots, guards being ambushed in the streets, bombs being planted. You must have seen it on your way here.”

Malone nodded glumly. He’s noticed a difference in the city the moment he'd entered it. There’d been only half the usual traffic in the streets, and there had been great heaps of refuse piled up on street corners, crawling with rats and filling the air with the stink of corruption. From a few streets away had come the sound of prolonged gunfire, as if some kind of battle was under way. He’d found himself hurrying through the streets as the fear that seemed to fill the city infected him, making him avoid the gaze of every other pedestrian he passed in case just making accidental eye contact might invite a hostile response.

When he'd gone into a cafe for a bite to eat, he found that food prices had doubled while he'd been away, and he remembered the meeting in the Bramble Road warehouse in which the protesters had discussed blocking the flow of food into the city. The road Malone had come in on had been untroubled, but they didn’t have to block every road, and they didn't have to stop all the food. In fact, some food getting into the city was good for them, because it would be grabbed by the rich and powerful and increase the resentment from the less fortunate. The city would be weakened by divisions from within.

“The authorities are all over the place,” Mornwell continued. “Trying to track down regional commanders and collaborators. They won't want to pull men away from that without a very good reason, very strong evidence. The word of the Brigadier's batman, spoken under oath, might do it. My word certainly won't...”

Even as he spoke, the sound of a large explosion came from across the city. Both men ran to the window, to see a cloud of smoke rising from half way up one of the gold and black towers in the centre of the city. Everywhere, people had stopped whatever they were doing and were staring in shock, some with hands to their mouths. The sky was suddenly full of birds, startled into the sky and wheeling around in confusion, and dogs started barking in outrage as if the bomb had been some giant wolf challenging their supremacy. “Those Above!” said Malone in shock.

“That's the Millerson Commerce tower!” said the Ambassador. “How on earth are they still managing to do that? The first one went off a week ago. The Imperial Bank tower. Nine people dead, twenty injured. The bank was forced to suspend all business for three days! They're still not back to normal, probably won't be for another couple of weeks yet. They stepped up security in all the towers. They search everyone who goes in, and they still manage to smuggle bombs in. It's been happening more and more often, too. The rebels want to take the fight all the way to the city’s elite. The bankers, the captains of industry. They want them afraid.”

“They want them to overreact,” said Malone. “They want them to crack down even harder on the common people. That's the Radiants’ influence at work. That’s why they have to get Benjamin! He's the main contact between the Radiants and the Rebels. He's an adoptee. The only one the rebels have at the moment, I think, but there'll be more soon. While I was there, I saw the Radiants take a man to be adopted. John Martin, and he’s not the only one. Soon there'll be ten adoptees for every one there was before!”

“All the more reason to help the Kelvon authorities get Benjamin. Take him out now, and if you're right the rebels will be temporarily cut off from the Radiants, as well as their chief source of money and weapons. This is important, Lad! You have to do this!”

“I can't! While I was undercover, I had to do things. Bad things. If I hadn't, I would’ve blown my cover and they’d have killed me! The Kelvons won't care about that though. They'll throw me in prison, or execute me...”

“No they won't! They make deals with important witnesses, give them amnesty for what they've done in return for the evidence they give. I’ll make sure you get a good deal. My influence still counts for something, even now.”

“And how long will it take to work out this deal? Will I still be able to catch up with the Brigadier afterwards.”

“Legal cases often take weeks, I'm afraid. The opposing lawyers have to negotiate with each other, haggle out an arrangement that works for both of them...”

“No! It can't take that long! There'll be no Kelvon Empire left by the time they finish, and no Helberion either! No hope left for mankind. No, That’s not the way. Benjamin has to be taken out, but quickly!”

“Careful, Lad. If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, forget it! The law may be slow, but you can't take things into your own hands!”

“Not even if civilisation itself is at stake?”

“Civilisation means doing it the civilised way. What else are we fighting for?”

“For the right not to be farm animals! For the right to be people!” He pointed out the window, where smoke was still rising from the hole in the tower. A fire seemed to have started inside it, although it was hard to be sure from this distance. Malone could imagine panic inside the tower, though. People with horrific injuries crying out for help, abandoned by their fellows who were fleeing to save themselves, fearing a second bomb. “You said that’s happening more and more often! That's Benjamin's doing! He paid for the explosives, he told the bombers how to get past security! He's almost certainly got people on the payroll in there, he may even have bribed the security people! His money made it possible! He has to be stopped now! Not weeks from now, now!”

“I understand how you feel, Lad, but I can't let you do it. There are laws and we have to uphold them. I may be able to use my authority to move things along a bit. I can pull a few strings, there are people who owe me favours. I'll get word to the Kelvon guards now. The sooner they get you into an interview room, the sooner they can take Benjamin into custody.” He opened the door. “Wait here. I'll send word to Anderwell Kraft, Farwell’s top guardsman. Things'll go even faster if we go right to the top.”

Malone nodded in resignation. “You're right,” he said. “If there was one thing the Brigadier taught me, it’s the importance of respecting the law. We'll do it your way.”

“It's for the best. You'll see.” The Ambassador left the room and went straight to one of the Helberian guards standing by the main entrance. He spoke to him and pointed back towards the conference room. The guard nodded and Malone cursed. Mornwell evidently wasn't convinced by Malone's change of heart and wanted to make sure he didn’t go off and do something stupid. The soldier strode in his direction, and Malone acted before he could take his place by the door, holding him prisoner in everything but name. He dashed from the room, weaving around the people crowding the reception hall. One woman turned, a startled look on her face, and Malone almost bowled her over. He grabbed her by the arms, mumbled his apologies and pushed her out of his way before sprinting down the corridor that led to the clerical offices.

The guard broke into a run as he chased him, but he was also hampered by people getting in his way. Malone knew the layout to the building well enough to know that there was a fire door at the end of the corridor and he raced towards it before any of the clerks decided to act the hero by trying to stop him. None of them did, but there was another soldier on duty by the door whose hand went to the pistol on his belt when he saw him. “Back there!” said Malone, hoping to confuse him. “Quick!”

The soldier looked past him at the other soldier chasing him. “Stop him!” The second soldier shouted. The one by the fire door drew his pistol and pointed it, but then Malone was on him. He crashed into him with his shoulder, throwing him to the ground with a cry of shock and surprise, and then Malone was at the door where he slammed against the emergency open lever. The door opened and he stumbled out into the cool evening air.

The soldier scrambled back to his feet and both of them chased him out into the alleyway behind the embassy building. “Stop!” There was the sound of a pistol being fired, a warning shot up into the air. Malone just ran. It occurred to him that the soldiers didn't know who he was or why the Ambassador wanted him watched over. For all they knew, he might be a dangerous criminal. Maybe he actually was a dangerous criminal, he suddenly thought. He was trying to escape so that he could commit a murder, after all, and it wouldn't be the first murder he'd done. He thought of the two Kelvon undercover agents again, the men he'd killed. What am I becoming? he wondered. What would the Brigadier think if he knew what I'd done, what I'm intending to do?

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The two soldiers had clear shots at his back, they could kill him any time they wanted. They were shouting at him to stop, no doubt aiming their pistols right at him. If he didn't give himself up, they would shoot him dead. He slowed to a stop therefore, lifting his hands, but then he saw that the wooden fence separating the alley from the bakers shop yard had rotted through. He plunged through it, rotting planks scratching at his head and arms as he did so, and found himself in a bare concrete yard with an exit onto the street. He ran for it, thanking Those Above that he was still dog enough to be able to outrun a declared human. Not enough to be able to outrun bullets though...

There was the sound of a pistol being fired and a bullet whined past his ear just as he reached the street and ducked out of sight behind a wall of obsidian bricks. Momentarily out of sight of the pursuing soldiers, he skidded to a halt and returned to the wall, crouching down behind it, and when the first soldier ran into view he threw himself at him.

He slammed a fist into the soldier's stomach, winding him, a move that the Brigadier had told him would totally incapacitate a man for several seconds, long enough to kill him or escape, whichever suited circumstances better. He then threw himself at the second soldier who was also just coming into view. I must be mad! he thought as he grappled with him, one hand on the wrist of the hand holding the gun as he tried to prevent the soldier from aiming it at him. Why am I doing this? My chances of getting away from them are tiny, I'll get myself killed! I should have waited in the conference room, spent some time convincing Mornwell that I'd genuinely changed my mind. An opportunity to slip away would have come sooner or later. Instead, I’m fighting two highly trained Helberian soldiers at the same time, both of whom are perfectly willing to kill me rather than let me get away! And even if I do get away, I'll be a fugitive from my own people! I should just give myself up right now! Just surrender! But if I do that, they'll put me under guard and I'll never have another chance to escape, and Benjamin has to die! As soon as possible before he does any more damage!

He continued to grapple with the soldier, therefore. He felt the bones of his arm began to bend as their muscles strained, the cartilage beginning to give way under the load. He’d been a small dog before he'd been adopted, and he was still smaller and lighter than a declared human. He couldn't beat him in a trial of strength, so instead he head butted him as hard as he could. The soldier gave a cry of shock and pain, and Malone’s hand went from his wrist to the gun, twisting it out of his grasp before he knew what he was doing. He threw the gun as far as he could, then reached for the first soldier's gun. The man was still gasping for breath but was struggling back to his feet. He was holding his gun loosely, but his grip tightened as he felt Malone's hand reaching for it.

The man he'd head butted grabbed him, his arms going around his arms and pinning them to his sides. He pulled him back, away from the other soldier who raised his weapon, but Malone kicked out with his feet, connecting solidly with the pistol and knocking it out of his hand. Then he bent his head down and bit hard on one of the arms holding him. His jaws were still dog enough to have a lot of bite force and he still had long, sharp canines. They penetrated his sleeve easily and bit deep into his flesh.

The man cried out, then cursed, and Malone used all his strength to wriggle out of his grasp. The other man’s gun had fallen into the gutter and the soldier was stopping to pick it up. Malone threw himself at him, knocking him away from the gun, then scooped it up himself, throwing it as far and hard as he could without looking to see where it was going. Then he ran. A hand grasped at his sleeve and almost caught hold of him, but he slipped free and ran, desperately hoping that neither of them would be able to recover his weapon in time to shoot after him. His back itched as he imagined a bullet tearing into it at any moment.

The street he found himself in was long, and the nearest side turning was over a hundred yards away. There was nothing before then but doors and windows into shops and houses, all of which would turn into dead ends if he ran through one of them. He ran and ran, expecting to be shot dead at any moment, expecting every gasping breath to be his last. He didn’t dare pause long enough to look back. He was faster than a declared human, but not overwhelmingly faster. A determined human could catch him if he wasn't going as fast as he possibly could. He just ran, therefore, watching the nearest side street getting closer with glacial slowness, and it wasn't until he arrived and turned the corner, with no shots having been fired after him, that he finally paused long enough to glance back.

One of the soldiers was climbing back over the fence he’d climbed to get his gun back. The other was just standing there, staring after him. The first soldier aimed his gun at him, then lowered it again with a resigned look on his face. Their accuracy at a hundred yards wasn't good, and there was a window in the building on the corner, very close to where Malone was standing. If he missed Malone, he might hit someone in the building. They'd given up, he realised with sudden elation. Too well trained to put members of the public at risk.

They stared at each other for a moment, then Malone turned and ran away towards the nearest gate to the Outwall districts. Would Mornwell send word ahead to have the guards stop him? He couldn't take the risk, and a man on horseback could easily get there ahead of him. He was far from free yet. He ran, therefore, sprinting as fast as his not quite human legs would carry him. As he went, he imagined the soldiers trotting back into the embassy, telling Mornwell what had happened, the Ambassador telling them to take a horse from the stables... They wouldn’t need to go all the way to the gate, he realised. If they knew where he was going, they could cut him off, capture him before he got there. He turned down the next side street he came to, therefore. Forget the Clam gate. He’d make for the Tiitan gate instead, the next nearest one. It wasn't much further away, and if the soldiers went for the wrong one he'd have longer to get through it. Once he was through, he could lose himself in the maze of Outwall streets and alleyways and they’d never be able to find him. The only way they’d be able to stop him then would be to tell Benjamin he was coming for him...

Malone faltered in mid step as the awful thought struck him. Would Mornwell actually do that? Warn Benjamin that he was coming? He only had Malone's word that he was a traitor, after all. What if he feared that Malone had been mistaken, or even deliberately deceived by rebels who'd known all along what he was? Mornwell was, apparently, a stickler for law and order, for doing things the correct way, but even so, would he really send a warning to a man that Malone had identified as a traitor? He would just have to take the risk, he decided. He’d be careful when he got to Benjamin’s mansion, if he made it that far...

He began to run out of breath and was forced to slow to a walk. If Mornwell did send a horseman to the Clam gate, how long would it take them to pass the warning on to all the gates? If they were connected by telegraph cables, the answer would be mere minutes, and the Kelvon Empire had always been at the forefront of advances in science and technology. Were there any other ways out of Inwall? Probably. There were probably sewers and secret tunnels, maybe even the remains of a Hetin city, buried deep beneath the modern city that had grown up on top of it, with its own tunnels and sewers. He didn't know the city well enough to know, though, and he didn't have time to make contact with the city's criminal underworld, who probably used such means to smuggle goods and merchandise in and out through them. No, for him, the gates were all he had. He just had to hope that he could get to the Titan gate before Mornwell could warn them about him, if he'd decided to do so. Maybe, after some thought, he'd decide to trust him, he thought. He trusted the Brigadier, after all, and some of that trust might rub off onto him by association. He couldn’t take the chance, though, and so as soon as he'd gotten his breath back he broke back into a run.

The sound of clanging bells and galloping horses came from behind him, and he ducked into a doorway as a guard wagon clattered past with half a dozen guardsmen hanging onto the sides. A moment later it was followed by another, and then an ambulance carriage, all heading towards the tower from which the column of smoke still rose. His heart leapt into his throat as a horrible thought came to him. They’ll have closed the gates to stop the bombers escaping! The bombers would almost certainly have escaped already, of course. They would have had an escape plan already worked out before they launched their attack, but the authorities would close the gates anyway because that was what they did in situations like this. He was trapped in the city!

He continued on towards the gate anyway, because he had nowhere else to go. More police and ambulance wagons went past, all ringing their bells even though there was almost no road traffic, very little that needed to get out of their way. Those few pedestrians who were still out and about paused in mid step to watch as they raced past, and Malone saw one man grinning with delight, although being careful to keep his face turned away from the guards. “John Martin’s got ‘em on their knees!” He heard him say to the man standing beside him, who laughed his agreement.

John Martin's in a Radiant adoption town, thought Malone as he walked away, trying to look casual in case they realised he’d overheard them. He'd already grown into a legend, though, probably with the help of agitators deliberately spreading rumours about his heroic actions. Lies that the common people will believe because they wanted a hero. A leader. Everything the rebels do in this city from now on will be attributed to him, even if he's away for weeks or even months, and when he gets back he'll have a legend that he’ll be able to step right into like a suit of clothes.

A shiver of fear swept over him as he realised what would happen next. He saw it as clearly as if it were happening right now, right before his eyes. Every dissatisfied worker and starving vagrant would flock to his cause. He would be the nucleus around which an army would condense. He would be the face of the revolution and the very mention of his name would make the bosses tremble. Even the Emperor himself would go pale at the mention of his name. When John Martin returned, the revolution would begin in earnest and the Empire would very probably fall just weeks later, their mighty armies crushed by a tidal wave of righteous outrage. That's the timescale, he realised. That's how long we've got to stop Benjamin.

For a moment he thought about going back to the embassy and telling Mornwell what he’d just realised, but he dismissed the idea almost immediately. Mornwell wouldn't listen, or else he'd just insist that he told the Kelvon authorities, and that would lead to his being arrested for the murder of Kelvon agents. He'd spend the last days of the Kelvon Empire in a prison cell while Benjamin continued to finance the revolution,. No, his plan remained the same. Kill Benjamin, cut off the rebels’ finances, their supply of arms and explosives. The Kelvon authorities would then have the chance to nip the revolution in the bud, and John Martin would return to find nothing waiting for him but heavily armed guardsmen who knew, thanks to the Brigadier, to look out for men with powdered or luminous skins.

His resolve reinforced, Malone picked up his pace towards the gate, only slowing when he came to the last corner. There, he slowed to a casual walk and strolled out from the side street, across the street that let to the gate, heading towards the other side where the side street continued on. Anyone who saw him would only see a normal not quite declared human walking from one part of the city to the other. Not a fugitive desperate to escape.

As he went, he looked at the gate, to his left. It was still open, he was surprised to see, but everyone passing through was being stopped by the guardsmen and quizzed intensively to make sure they weren't the bombers. Or a half raised dog on his way to murder a nobleman.

Had Mornwell sent word, warning them to stop him? If so, had word arrived yet? And if so, how long would it be before things returned to normal, allowing people to pass through without being stopped and challenged? How long could he hide in Farwell, the very heart of the Empire, without being found? And how many more guns would Benjamin give the rebels while he cowered in fear? I have to go for it, he decided. They’re not looking for me, Mornwell wouldn’t do that. All I've got to do is convince them I'm not one of the bombers and I can just walk through that gate.

He continued on past the gate until he was out of sight, then turned back the way he'd come. This time, when he reached the corner, he turned and walked confidently towards the gate. There were two queues, one of road traffic and one of pedestrians. He joined the back of the pedestrian queue and waited as calmly as he could.

It took half an hour for him to reach the head of the queue, and he spent every second of it looking down the roads to the embassy and the Clam gate, looking for a horseman racing to warn the gatekeepers about him. No horseman came, though, which just made him worry that he’d already been and gone. When he found himself facing the gatekeepers, though, they made no reaction when they saw him and Malone relaxed in tremendous relief.

“Name?” The first gatekeeper asked.

“Malone.”

“Why are you leaving the city?”

“I came looking for work, but there isn't any, or at least, none for me.”

The man laughed. “You came to Farwell looking for work? A half raised dog?”

“I heard there was work here, just one of those rumours, I suppose, but I couldn’t rest until I'd checked it out. I've spent two weeks knocking on every door I could find, and now I’m done. I'm going to try Outwall again.”

“I doubt you’ll have much better luck there. Everyone’s leaving, looking for food.”

“Have you heard the name John Martin?” asked the other gatekeeper.

“Everyone's heard of him,” replied Malone. Denying it would only have made them suspicious. “What about him?”

“What do you think of him?”

“Just another con man telling everyone it’ll be better if they follow him. I've heard it all before.”

“With all your life experience?” snickered the first guard.

“My parents died. I've been like this a long time. I'm probably older then you.”

“Can we move it along?” said someone behind him in the queue impatiently. “I haven't got all day!”

“Takes as long as it takes!” snapped the second guard. “You looking for a body cavity search?”

The man shut up, and Malone forced himself to show no expression. I'm just a homeless, unemployed vagrant, he told himself. You're wasting your time with me. He tried to project it into the minds of the gatekeepers and maybe it worked because the first guard waved him through. “Okay, friend,” he told the man behind him. “Let’s just step into this little alcove for a moment...”

Malone hurried past, along the tunnel that ran through the gigantic wall and out the other side, where it took all his willpower to stop himself breaking into a run. He turned into the first side street he came to, took another turning, then another, and it wasn't until he was certain that he'd completely lost himself in the maze of streets and alleyways of Outwall that he finally allowed himself to relax. Then he made his way to one of the commercial districts, looking for a goods wagon going in the right direction that he could hitch a ride on.