More coverage on back:
Owner of Soothing Parlor Grateful for Public Agitation
ALLOMANCER JAK SETTLES WITH SIDEKICK
Allomancer Jak has reached a settlement with his former sidekick, Handerwym Terrisborn, who claims the famous media mogul skimmed Terrisborn’s stakes in the company to invest in new media ventures, like the flash-in-the-pan evanoplays of several years ago. While Jak’s adventures will continue in The Sentinel of Truth, “Handerwym Presents” will now be exclusive to our broadsheet in Bilming.
“This was my intention all along,” said Jak to a crowd of eager fans, “to train dear Handerwym in the ways of greatness and then cut the apron strings, push him from the nest, and watch him sink or swim. Besides, now that I don’t have to pay him, I can focus my time and money on writing my memoirs and exploring promising new forms of storytelling. Let me tell you what’s next: vizbooks — they’re stories you can read even if you don’t know your letters!”
When asked for comment, Terrisborn just closed his eyes and sighed.
More details on back: Why the judge let Jak keep the tiger
PART TWO
20
Marasi got a few hours of sleep, nestled in the front seat of the truck as her convoy rolled toward Bilming. Fortunately they’d been able to recruit drivers from the constabulary night watch, so they were used to the hours. Hers wasn’t the talkative type. The woman wore her jacket with the collar up, a cap on her head to shadow her face. The team had been told to maintain their disguises even while driving.
When Marasi had dozed off, they’d been traveling through the bleak darkness beyond Elendel. When she blinked awake, the sun was rising and they were passing the Bilming suburbs. Marasi had never been to the city, though it was only a few hours by train along the coast, but she had a good grasp on the politics of why this city was so important.
As traffic into the capital had grown overwhelming, Bilming had become an essential port and dockyard. Its seaside nature let it trade with other coastal towns, ignoring Elendel’s railway monopoly. In addition, Bilming was a chief port for trade with the Southern Continent — where much commerce was being handled by traditional ocean shipping, not airship.
The discovery of those new lands had brought wealth into Bilming. And wealth meant power. Many in Elendel thought they had let the people of Bilming grow too independent — and in recent years, it had become the one city in the Basin that could legitimately rival Elendel.
Many in the capital spoke of Bilming snidely, pretending it was a rural outpost of half-educated sailors and drunken dockworkers. Marasi knew better. This wasn’t a rural backwater; Bilming was a metropolis in the making.
She passed neatly laid-out suburbs — but even more swaths of land that had been set aside to eventually be filled. Many developments were mid-construction, houses being built, each in a different style, no two roofs matching one another. No two doorways in the same place. Yet there was a strange symmetry to it. One she couldn’t quite pin down.
It was the same downtown, which — though still distant — she could see had half-finished pillars of skyscrapers growing up like the mythical spires of Kredik Shaw. A dominant building at the direct center was furthest along. It had to be a good seventy or eighty stories high, rivaling the tallest buildings in Elendel.
Each of the buildings — particularly the one at the center — had a strange aesthetic that mixed the feel of a fortress with modern sleek lines and steel finishings. As they drove closer, the roadway passed under a large elevated railway that ran in a circle around the city. Some sections were unfinished, but big swaths of it were already in operation.
Everything had a metallic feel to it, like burnished steel, enhanced by the skeletons of buildings rising up, their girders exposed. The finished buildings had metal roofs or siding — not always polished, and often with a patina. The overall effect gave the great variety of building shapes a cohesive theme.
She was impressed. Even half-finished, this was a city with a plan. The design screamed of industry, forward thinking, and accomplishment. They passed numerous billboards proclaiming the virtues of self-reliance and sovereignty. You didn’t have to read far between the lines to see the tone those were setting. Independence from Elendel.
“You ever notice,” her driver said, “how kids always draw houses the same way?”
Marasi frowned, glancing at her. The woman’s voice was on the deeper side, but Marasi couldn’t make out much about her. Marasi had chosen her truck at random, picking one that had boxes in the back, not constables — hoping that would help her sleep.
“I can’t say that I’ve noticed,” Marasi said.
“It’s strange,” the driver continued. “You can imagine the shape, of course. Square box. Triangular roof. Door right in the center. Two windows. Often a chimney, even though fewer and fewer homes have those these days. What house actually looks like that? Almost none. So why do kids draw them?”
“I guess it’s easy,” Marasi said.
“Perhaps,” her driver said. “Or maybe they’re not drawing a house. They’re drawing someone else’s picture of a house. What they’ve seen others make. An icon. A symbol.”
Marasi narrowed her eyes. “That’s an interesting observation, Constable … what was your name?”
“I go by Moonlight,” the woman said. “We like code names. It’s one of our things.”
“I … have never heard that word before.”
“You wouldn’t have, since you have no moon here.” The woman leaned back and stretched out her arm on the top of the steering wheel, causing her sleeve to inch back and reveal a red tattoo on her forearm, above the wrist. The same symbol that had been on the card left for her.
Slowly, cautiously, Marasi reached for the pistol in the holster under her arm.
“You won’t need that,” the woman said, her eyes still on the road. They’d been forced to slow considerably now that they were approaching the center of the city. Who would have guessed that an Outer City would have so much traffic?
“Where’s the constable who should have been driving this truck?” Marasi asked. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing,” the woman said. “She’s fine. But I find it amusing that’s the first thing you ask. I mean, I understand — but maybe get your priorities straight, Marasi.”
Marasi kept her fingers lightly on the grip of the handgun, but didn’t draw it. “Was it you in the cavern? The person wearing a white mask?”
“It was black,” the woman said, passing that little test. “Yes. That was me.”
“And … are you human?”
“One hundred percent,” the woman said. “I’m not a local though.” She pulled off her cap, revealing straight black hair in a ponytail and uncommon features. A shape to the eyes Marasi had never seen, prominent cheekbones.
“Are you from the Southern Continent?” Marasi asked.
“No.” Moonlight nodded to the city outside. “I’ve always hated Bilming. I should like the thought they put into design, yet the underlying message disturbs me. They’re trying hard to make each building individual, but the way it comes together is too deliberate. It makes the artistry feel hollow.”