The other thing that made them certain they were en route to something hidden, at the edge of the railsea & therefore of the world, was that they were harassed by angels.
SEVENTY-FOUR
IT WAS NIGHT. STILL THEY TRAVELLED. A BAJJER SCOUT reported something in the distance. The explorers woke as the air shook.
“What …?”
“Is that …?”
They came on deck, rubbing their eyes & looking up at the lights low in the sky. In came a flock of flying angels.
“Oh my Stonefaces,” Sham whispered.
The crew watched the air-chopping investigators. They could not make much out: swaying lights, reflections on recurved shells, stars glimpsed through their shimmering. Fables! The watchers at the edge of the world. The heralds of the godsquabble. Getterbirds, utterers in air. They had as many names as most holy things do.
The crew cringed, kept weapons in their hands, whispered to switchers to get ready, anticipating attack. Which did not come. At last the whirling-winged things scattered. Some back the way they had come, back towards the world’s edge, others east, & south.
“Where they going?” said Caldera. “If only we had a plane to see.”
Sham looked at her thoughtfully. “That we don’t,” he said. “But we do have something.”
He scaled the crow’s nest. Remember when I couldn’t do this? he thought. Into the gloom & freezing air. Telescope in hand, Sham waited. He looked for flying lights & considered. If he tried to think full-on about where he was, what he was doing, how he had got there, it was all a great deal too much. So he simply didn’t. Sham just thought of stories about what was ahead. The end of the world, ghostly money, endless sorrow. Sham strained his eyes.
It was not deep night. It was dark but not quite dark. The stars were hidden but not wholly. By sitting still & staring a long, long time, Sham could make out textures in the black. The edge of something, approaching. A horizon. That’s what it was. Dark on dark. A horizon that was definitely, without question, closer than it should be. He caught his breath.
Mountains, rocks, a split, gaps & foreshortened earth.
& then a rush, a whir of lights & another angel rushed into view. It roared around him, filling the air with dust & noise. He clung to the ladder & grit his teeth. He could see his crewmates shouting below, could of course hear nothing. When at last the angel careered off eastward, Sham trained his lens on it.
Daybe gusted off, following it. As if the bat would grab it out of the air & crunch it down. Sham watched the winking diode light from Daybe’s leg. Daybe was no daybat now, staying up all hours, like Sham himself. It did not fly straight, still obviously confused. It veered again for where the captain stood, even so late, alone & left behind by events.
Daybe swooped around her & the mechanism she endlessly probed. Sham stared.
“CAPTAIN.”
Naphi turned. The crew were ranged behind her. For a while there was only the noise of the train. Everyone swayed with its motion.
“Captain,” Sham said again. He stood with a Shroake to either side. “What are you doing?”
She met his stare. “Keeping watch,” she said.
“But for what, exactly?” said Caldera Shroake.
“You know what’s ahead of us, Captain?” Sham said. “An edge. The end of something. I saw it. But you’re looking the other way. What are you watching for? What’s behind us?”
The captain stared at him, & he held her gaze, & as planned Vurinam suddenly blindsided her. The young trainswain stepped in &, gentle enough not to hurt, he grabbed her mechanism. “No!” she shouted, but Vurinam wrested it from her, threw it to Sham. “No!” the captain said again, stepped forwards, but now Benightly was ready. She struggled as he restrained her.
Daybe landed on Sham’s arm. The bat nuzzled the receiver. “You will let me go!” the captain shouted.
“Mbenday,” Sham said. “What does that mean?” He pointed at a blipping & winking & whistling.
The man stared at it. “That little light there?” Mbenday said at last. He looked up. “That’s your little friend. But there’s another one there.” Mbenday pointed at another light, & swallowed. “A big one, it looks like. Coming towards us. Fast.”
Captain Naphi stopped struggling. She stood tall & straightened her clothes.
“How long have you known, Captain?” Sham said. “How long have you known what was coming?” He raised the receiver. “Mocker-Jack.”
There was a collective gasp. “Mocker-Jack the mole,” Sham said. “& we ain’t going after it anymore. It’s coming after us.”
“IT WAS NEVER going to let us go,” the captain said. “We had the hubris to think we were hunting it. We were never hunting it.” She did not sound mad. “Now the gloves are off. The boot is on the other foot.” She smiled. “Mocker-Jack is my philosophy. & I am its.”
“Sirocco,” Sham said. He fiddled with the mechanism & watched Daybe move again. “Signals like this, do they work both ways?”
“Ah,” Sirocco said slowly. She nodded thoughtfully. “Could be. Could be made to.”
“You see Daybe,” Sham said. He wiggled the receiver & the bat bobbed.
“It ain’t tuned to him,” Caldera said. “It’s a different frequency. How come it shows him?”
“Salvage,” Sirocco said. “It’s always a bit iffy. There’s bound to be bleed. Especially when, like right now, that thing you’re holding must be kicking out a lot of power. Ain’t it, Captain? When did you learn to reverse its field?” Sirocco said.
“Sham,” said Vurinam. “D’you think you could please tell the rest of us what the bloody hell you lot are on about?”
“She flipped the signal,” Sham said. “This …” He shook the receiver. “It ain’t finding Mocker-Jack anymore. It’s pulling. The moldywarpe’s finding it.”
The crew stared. “Turn the bloody thing off, then!” Vurinam squawked. Sirocco took it from Sham & hurriedly fiddled.
“How’d you even learn to do this, Captain?” she said.
“You salvors,” Naphi said. “You’ll tell a person anything with the right blandishments. If you can show off about it.”
“Why do you think she stuck with us?” Mbenday said, frantically pulling at his own hair. “She wasn’t going to let us take the Medes. She needs a moletrain.”
“Can we outpace it?” Sham said. “The mole?” Mbenday read the screen, carefully.
“Yes,” he said.
“No,” said the captain.
“No,” said Mbenday. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t know if I can reverse this,” Sirocco said.
“Much too late. Do you really think,” the captain said, “that Mocker-Jack can’t sniff us now? Can’t feel us? That it doesn’t know the signature of our wheels? It’s coming. This is what we’ve wanted.”
“No, Captain,” Sham shouted. “This is what you’ve wanted. The rest of us been wanting other, bloody, things!”
“It’s really coming quite fast,” Mbenday whispered, staring at the display. “I mean, it’s a few hours away at most. It’s really coming at quite a clip.” He swallowed.
“Wait,” Sham said slowly. “Sirocco, leave it on.”
“What?” said Vurinam. “Are you crazy?”