“The rockets never worked,” he muttered. “Not well enough.”
“Autonomy wanted to figure them out,” Telsin said. “Turns out advanced ballistics and self-propelled rocketry proved a little beyond our grasp. Curiously, with this power I can … see hints of what is to come. But the mechanisms? Well, that takes experimentation, learning, iteration…”
Rust and Ruin. He couldn’t reach that ship. It was already too far out in the ocean, far beyond what a Steelpush could manage. His anchor would give out, and he’d drop into the depths.
“… Mate?” Wayne said, worried. “Wax? What’s wrong?”
Could he get to Elendel fast enough? He doubted he could outpace that ship. And even if he could, what would he do when he arrived? The ship would almost certainly detonate the bomb as soon as it drew enough of the city into the blast radius.
“Oh, give it up, Wax,” Telsin said, stepping closer. “Admit that I’m right. Did you know, that’s the most infuriating thing? When we were young I’d invite you to join me, but you’d judge me instead. You always thought you were too good for me.”
He turned, surprised at the vitriol in her voice.
“I’ve hated you for decades,” she hissed at him, her eyes pulsing an even deeper red. “Because you could never just admit it. Well, today, I’m doing what has to be done. You’re going to watch. You’re going to weep. And I’m going to Ascend.”
How?
There had to be a way!
“A new world begins tonight,” Telsin said. “Emerging from Elendel’s smoldering ruin. The Basin will be devoted to a new god, one who isn’t weak. Isn’t divided.
“All day you’ve hounded me. But now you’re the one who is caught, and the ship is free. The bomb is on its way. You can’t stop it. Go ahead. Throw yourself into the night, Wax! You’ll end up swimming in the bay.
“Or maybe you’ll hurry to Elendel, to join everyone who will die in the blast. The bomb is rigged to blow if the ship is stopped or struck by weapons fire. It’s too late. I’ve won. I—”
Hit her, Harmony, Wax thought. Cut her off. Now.
Telsin gasped. She stumbled, the red glow to her eyes fading, her lips parting, and fell motionless to the rooftop.
Her body is pushed past its limits, Harmony told him. Waxillium… she’s being sustained only by the power. Get Autonomy to withdraw. Stop that ship!
Wax met Wayne’s eyes, which were pleading with him, worried. The answer. What was the answer?
Wax looked down through the broken skylight, where mist was pouring in like water into a drain.
He could barely make out a corpse below.
67
Steris stood at the central station, where people piled onto a train — a cargo train, as those could carry more people. She checked items off her list. Another district evacuated.
Broadsheets were getting wind of Steris’s efforts. Entire octants being evacuated? Mysterious gas leaks used as an explanation? People were fleeing by car in larger and larger numbers, but she’d planned for that. It was part of the evacuation projections.
She nodded to TenSoon, who came prowling up, still wearing the constable’s body. “Daal and the senators have fled the city. News that they are gone is spreading.”
“That’s troubling,” Steris said. “But inconsequential before our current need.”
His expression became distant. “Yes, but they took the Bands. I shouldn’t have brought them out, shouldn’t have let them go. I’ve been away from human politics for too long.” He looked at her. “I didn’t know, Steris. I didn’t know they had been drained. I feel we were played somehow. I don’t do … human very well anymore.”
“We will deal with the problem of the Bands,” she said, “if we have the luxury of surviving what is coming.”
He growled softly, but it seemed more like a sigh than a sign of disagreement. They both turned as Governor Varlance walked up, wiping his brow with his handkerchief. He’d begun the meetings today wearing white face makeup, but little of that remained, just some patches on his cheeks.
His presence lent a great deal of authority to Steris’s orders. People were comforted to see him, the governor, directing efforts. Simply by standing near her, he had probably saved thousands of lives.
It had proved difficult to keep him from talking and spoiling the effect by being … well, himself. “How are you doing?” she asked him, making a notation as another train chugged away. “Perhaps some more coffee?”
“No,” he said. “Thank you.” He paused and spoke more softly. “How many do you think we can save?”
“It depends entirely on how much time we have.”
“Assume there’s not much,” he said, his voice growing even more hushed. “Lady Ladrian, we just received a report from intelligence operatives in Bilming. Something has happened.”
She felt a coldness deep inside. “Artillery launch?”
“No,” he said. “Bilming has launched one of its warships toward Elendel. Full speed.”
A warship. She turned and waved toward Reddi, who was instructing his constables to keep lines organized as people were loaded onto the next trains.
He jogged over. “Bilming has launched a warship,” Steris said.
“A single warship?” Reddi said. “We can handle that, even without a navy of our own.”
“Indeed,” the governor said.
Only one ship? Going at full speed?
Oh no.
The answer was obvious to her.
“The ship is the bomb,” she said, her eyes wide. “Wax said he was going to try to interrupt the artillery launch. So they sent a ship instead, at full speed, laden with explosives.”
“Blessed Preservation,” Reddi whispered, then looked at the vast station still full of people. They, including the ones already evacuated, represented only a fraction of the city’s population. “Can we shell it?”
“And detonate the bomb?” Steris asked. “They wouldn’t have chosen this delivery mechanism if destroying the ship would stop the bomb.”
“So Dawnshot has failed,” the governor said, slumping to the side against a pillar. “Elendel is lost.”
“How long do we have?” Steris asked.
“At full speed from Bilming?” Reddi said. “Not long. Hours at most. Most likely less than that.”
“We can get away,” the governor said, “if we leave now. We have to get on this train!”
Steris stood there, numb. The other senators had already evacuated. They would rant all day that she was wrong, but when there was a whiff of actual smoke, they broke down the doors to flee.
But she knew. She knew.
She slammed her hand against her notebook, surprised at her forcefulness, causing the panicking governor to hesitate.
“That ship,” she said, “will not reach this city.”
“How do you know?” the governor said.
“Because my husband, Waxillium Ladrian, will prevent it.”
“And if he doesn’t?” the governor said.
Steris flipped through her notebook to the disaster scenarios she’d anticipated, landing on a specific page full of projections about the dangers of offshore earthquakes.
“He will,” Steris promised. “But we need to evacuate the region nearest the bay just in case. And prepare for the possibility of a tsunami.” She flipped to a map of the city, pointing. “We need these areas evacuated next in case the best my husband can do is detonate the weapon early.”