“What makes you think they do?”
“Oh, come on, major, everyone’s heard the rumors.” His eyes lit up. “Have you ever been to the Upper City?”
“Twice.”
“And?”
“And the people looked like people. I didn’t stop to ask anyone if they were Imajeren or Imrad or whatever.”
Kenan leaned back. “My grandparents were Imrad, you know.”
“Lots of people’s grandparents were Imrad.” Syfax paused as a wide shadow lumbered into view beyond the front door of the car. “Hang on. We’ve got a visitor.”
The marshals eased into positions of sleepy disinterest, lounging and leaning like all of their fellow passengers. The door opened and one of the imposing guards from the first class car sauntered in with a frown etched into the creases of his very square and serious face. He moved down the aisle, squinting at every person and bag he passed. He lingered near the marshals only as long as anyone else and continued past without a word.
Syfax heard Kenan exhale and mutter, “That was closer than I’d like. He’s got a revolver holstered under his left arm.”
“The other one is probably armed, too. They look like ex-army.” Syfax peered up at the front door through his narrowed eyes. “Crap.”
The other guard entered the car and took up a rather stoic position in front of the door. His gaze swept over the rows of mostly empty seats and came to rest on the marshals.
Syfax muttered, “I think we’ve been made.”
“How can you tell?”
“Call it intuition, or the ability to see.” Syfax sat up and straightened his jacket, not bothering to look up as the second guard came down the aisle toward them. The sounds of additional footsteps told him that the first guard was coming up behind them. When both men were standing at the edges of the marshals’ seats, the major said, “Evening, fellas, how are you doing? Is this the tea service?”
The closer one frowned. “Major Zidane? Lady Sade wants to see you.”
“Major?” Syfax shook his head. “Sorry. I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”
The man frowned a little harder. “I don’t think so. Show me your coat.”
Syfax shrugged and held up his reversed jacket, displaying its gray back and sleeves.
The men shifted in place. “You’re not a marshal?”
Syfax said, “I think they wear red.”
“What about you?” The other one nudged Kenan.
The corporal squinted up from his sleepy repose against the window. “Huh? Wha?”
The men frowned at Syfax and Kenan, then frowned at each other, muttered a bit, and then shuffled down the aisle and out the rear door.
Kenan sat bolt upright. “What do we do now?”
“Nothing. We’re still a few hours from the capital. We sit here and wait for them to make the next move. We could arrest Chaou now, but we’ve got nothing on the others yet, and we’d lose the governor and the rest of her friends. I want them all, so we wait.” Syfax paused. “Chaou can spot me, but she probably won’t recognize you. I want you to go sit in the next car and keep an eye out for her.”
“What do I do if I see her? I mean, I can’t exactly come running back here without making her suspicious, can I?”
Syfax shook his head. “You don’t do anything unless she brings the heavy guns with her. I can handle Chaou. Just sit in the back seat of the car and if you see trouble, press your hand against the window so I can see it.” He squinted at the front of the train where the foggy little window allowed a meager view of the next car. “And wipe some of that condensation off the glass as you go up.”
Kenan made his way forward to the next car, taking a casual swipe across the window with his sleeve as he passed. Syfax could just barely see him through the dark windows as he took a seat and hunkered down like the dozing travelers around him. A few minutes later the two armed men reappeared at the rear of the car and sauntered up the aisle. They paused beside him. “Where’s your friend?”
Syfax blinked. “Who?”
“The guy who was sitting behind you. Where is he?”
“Oh, he’s not my friend. He just sat down behind me when we boarded. And he hasn’t said a word this whole time either. His snoring was pissing me off though. I’m glad he’s gone.”
The men exchanged annoyed looks and continued up to the next car. Syfax saw them point out Kenan, but they continued past without speaking to him.
As the starry sky blossomed overhead, the blunt peaks of the Atlas Mountains melted into charcoal sketches against the blackness. Syfax thought of his early army training climbing those peaks and hiking those trails with his heavy pack digging into his shoulders and his rifle jostling against his hip. Above the tree line, the mountains offered nothing but cold, sharp stone in infinite varieties for weary young soldiers to march across, day after day.
Simpler times.
As the train plunged into the first mountain pass, Syfax noted the black iron spire on a rock ledge above the tracks. A watch tower. He smiled, remembering the long, miserable nights he had spent huddled in one of those towers on watch, and he wished the poor bastards on duty a warm and quiet night.
Chapter 36. Taziri
Ghanima shifted her buttocks in the pilot’s seat. “This is the comfiest chair I have ever been forced to sit in for hours on end.”
“Isoke had it made special.” Taziri stared dully at her gauges and needles.
“Well, when we get back to Tingis, you need to introduce me to her, because she is a woman with excellent taste in chairs.”
“Yeah, sure.” Taziri tried to smile, genuinely happy that the young pilot had come back and they were finally on their way back to their normal lives. But the exhaustion had hit her all at once as soon as they took off from Arafez and they saw the city burning. She tried not to think of the people in those buildings, in those homes. She tried not to think about the flames.
The irregular snoring of the little Hellan doctor broke up the silence, punctuating the soft rhythm of the Halcyon ’s propellers. Ghanima said, “I’m still getting used to these controls, but I already like them. Everything feels tighter, more responsive. More powerful, too. Turns and corrections are so easy. Captain Geroubi did an amazing job with this.”
“Yes, she did.”
“Hey, come on.” Ghanima touched Taziri’s shoulder. “You know she’s all right, right? She’s lying in some hospital bed, resting up, doped up on opium, and in a few days she’ll be good as new with a scar that makes her look sexy and dangerous. Cheer up.”
“We don’t know that yet, not for sure.” Taziri looked back over her shoulder. “Sorry. I just need to know that she’s all right. She took a huge risk on me once, she gave me everything, this career, and now I’m off in her boat while she’s…wherever she is.”
“Well, trust me when I say it’s better knowing there’s a chance she’s alive, a chance that she’s perfectly all right.” Ghanima squeezed the flight sticks and gazed out over the dark landscape of rolling hills and rocky mounds. The jagged ridges of the Atlas Mountains stood black against the night sky. “It’s a lot better,” she said softly.
Taziri sat up. “Hey, listen, whatever happened on the Crake wasn’t your fault, you know. Chaou shot your captain and the major is going to arrest Chaou and throw her in the deepest, darkest hole he can find, right alongside Hamuy.”
“Yeah, but, if I hadn’t tried to grab her…” Ghanima shivered and straightened up. “Hey, did I hear you go out last night? I thought I heard your door squeaking. It was late. You were gone a long time. I got a little worried.”
