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“Ah. Well. No. That would be heavy. Now, we can’t fabricate an anchor with the range to pull you completely out of the campo, but…we can get someone onto the Candiano campo to create a sort of landing zone close to one of the gates.” He looked at Gregor. “Are you amenable to this task, Captain?”

Gregor considered it. “So…I just take the anchor onto the campo, plant it somewhere in range, and catch Sancia as she lands?”

“Basically. Then you both make a mad dash off the campo into the safety of the Commons.”

Sancia cleared her throat again. “So…to review,” she said slowly, “I am floating up the canal…”

“Yes,” said Orso.

“In a submerged capsule you all have built in three days…”

“Yes.”

“And using Tribuno’s blood to enter the Mountain…”

“Yes.”

“And I am then navigating a completely unknown set of obstacles to get to the thirty-fifth floor, where I am then stealing the imperiat…”

“Yes.”

“And then I hop off the Mountain and fly to Gregor. Because the Mountain will probably figure out something’s wrong, and try to trap me.”

“Ahh…”

“And once I land, we run off the campo while probably being chased by some armed people who noticed me flying through the sky like a bird.”

“Uh. Probably. Yes.”

“And then I give the imperiat to you, and you…”

“Take down Tomas,” said Orso. He coughed. “And possibly use it to reinvent the nature of scriving as we know it.”

“Yes. Well, then. I see.” She took a breath, nodded, and sat up. “I’m out.”

Orso blinked. “You…you what? Out?”

“Yeah. I’m out.” She stood. “Every time we talk about this it gets more and more preposterous. And no one’s asked me once if I’m game for any of this. I’m not doing this mad shit. I’m not. I’m out.” She walked away.

There was a long, awkward silence.

Orso stared around at everyone, flabbergasted. “Did…did she just say she’s out?”

“She did,” said Claudia.

“Like — not going to do it?”

“That’s what out generally means,” said Gio.

“But…but she can’t…She can’t just…Oh, son of a bitch!” He chased after Sancia, and caught her just as she was slipping out into the tunnel. “Hey! Come back here!”

“No,” said Sancia.

“We did a hell of a lot of work for you!” snarled Orso. “We worked our goddamn asses off to set this all up! You can’t just walk out now!”

“And yet,” said Sancia, “that’s what I’m doing.”

“But…but this is our only chance! If we don’t steal the imperiat now, then Tomas Ziani could raise an army, and…”

“And what?” spat Sancia, marching up to him. “Do to Tevanne what Tevanne has done to the entire rest of the world?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

“The problem is that I actually do. You’re not the one in the capsule, in the Mountain, the one risking your goddamn neck! You know what this is, what this really is?”

“What?” said Orso, fuming.

“This is a rich man’s fight,” said Sancia. “A rich man’s game. And we’re all just pieces on the board to you. You think you’re different, Orso, but you’re just like all the rest of them!” She put her finger in his face. “My life’s not a hell of a lot better since I escaped the plantation. I still starve a lot and I still get beaten occasionally. But at least now I get to say no when I want to. And I’m saying it now.” She turned and walked out.

25

Sancia sat on the hilltop next to the Gulf, staring out at the ramshackle tent city, rambling and gray in the watery, late-morning light. She’d felt alone many times since she’d found Clef, but she hadn’t felt truly abandoned until now, burdened with secrets, and surrounded with people all too willing to either kill her or put her in harm’s way.

<We’re in a right state, aren’t we, kid?> said Clef.

<Yeah. I don’t know what the hell to do, Clef. I want to run, but I’ve nowhere to run to.>

Sancia watched a group of children playing in the Gulf, running back and forth with sticks. Skinny things, undernourished and filthy. Her childhood had been much the same. Even in the greatest city on earth, she thought, children go hungry, every day.

<I bet I could take the Mountain,> said Clef. <Forget about Orso. You and me, kid. We could do it.>

<We’re not discussing this, Clef.>

<I could. It’d be…interesting. A feat. An experience.>

<It’s the goddamn graveyard of thieves, Clef! Campo operators like Sark talked about it in whispers, like the thing could hear them across the city!>

<I want to get you out of this. I got you into it. And I don’t think I have a lot of time left, Sancia. I want to do something — I don’t know — something big.>

She buried her face in her hands. “Damn it,” she whispered. “Damn it all…”

<The captain’s coming,> said Clef. <He’s got his truncheon. He’s walking up the hill now.>

<Great,> she thought. <Another conversation I don’t want to have.>

She watched as his lumbering form emerged from the tall weeds. He did not look at her. He just walked over and sat, about ten feet away.

“Dangerous to be out in the day,” he said.

“It’s dangerous to be in there too,” said Sancia. “Since you people want to get me killed.”

“I don’t want to get you killed, Sancia.”

“You said to me once that you were not afraid to die. You meant it, didn’t you?”

He thought about it, and nodded.

“Yeah. A guy who’s not afraid to die likely isn’t too torn up about getting other people killed. You might not want it, but it’s a responsibility you’re willing to accept, isn’t it?”

“Responsibility…” he echoed. “You know, I talked to my mother yesterday.”

“That’s why you ducked out? Just to chat up your mother?”

“Yes. I asked her about Silicio. And she admitted that, once, Dandolo Chartered had indeed been involved in trying to scrive human beings. In trying to scrive slaves, I mean.”

She glanced at him. His face was fixed in a look of quiet puzzlement. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “Odd thing, to learn of your family’s complicity in such monstrosities. But like you said — it’s not like there weren’t plenty of other tragedies and monstrosities to begin with. That particular one is not especially unusual. So now, today, I think about responsibilities.” He looked out at the cityscape of Tevanne. “It won’t change on its own, will it?”

“What? The city?”

“Yes. I’d hoped to civilize it. To show it the way. But I no longer think it will change of its own accord. It must have change forced upon it.”

“Is this about justice again?” asked Sancia.

“Of course. It’s my responsibility to deliver it.”

“Why you, Captain?”

“Because of what I’ve seen.”

“And what’s that?”

He sat back. “You…you know they call me the Revenant of Dantua, yes?”