“And why do you think that is?”
“Because of Trell’s influence, obviously.”
Marasi leaned forward. “Tell me. Please.”
Moonlight glanced at her for the first time. Such self-assured eyes, with a cocked half smile on her lips. This was a woman who had put herself at the very center of a group of constables and didn’t seem the slightest bit worried.
“So hungry,” Moonlight said. “We don’t always share answers with outsiders, Marasi.”
“I could have you arrested and interrogated.”
“On what charges?”
“Interfering with constable business.”
“Interfering? How? I was instructed to drive this truck.”
“Don’t play coy,” Marasi said. “You’re impersonating a constable — plus it’s against the law to withhold information vital to an investigation.”
The woman smiled, turning her eyes back to the road. “Strange how similar cops are, regardless of the planet.”
Regardless of the planet. Rust and Ruin …
Marasi had known that there were other planets out there, of course. The kandra talked about it. But … rusts. It was still hard to accept.
They pulled to a halt as some traffic worked its way into the street ahead of them. As they did, a beggar came to Marasi’s window. Per the notebook’s instructions, Marasi unlatched the window and folded it down, then handed the beggar a few boxings. The dirty man slipped her a piece of paper.
“Can you get to Biggle Way?” Marasi asked, reading the note.
“Yeah,” Moonlight said, turning them down the next street. “That’s in the industrial district.”
Marasi’s truck pulled into the lead and the convoy followed her, all ten keeping in a tight double line. At the next corner, Wayne’s truck came up beside them. She could make him out talking the ear off his driver — who turned out to be Hoid, Wax’s coachman. How had he gotten involved in the sting?
“Can’t tell these days,” Moonlight said, “if I’m keeping watch on him, or if he’s keeping watch on me. Realistically, we’re both just keeping watch on the same third parties…”
“What. Hoid?” Marasi asked. “He’s been in Wax’s employ for years. He’s an odd fellow, but…”
In the next truck, Hoid glanced at them — past Marasi — and nodded to Moonlight.
Damn. What in the world? How much of her time had she wasted on bank robberies or protection rackets, when this was going on?
Whatever this was.
“Has it ever struck you,” Moonlight said, “how art is so destructive?”
“Art?” Marasi said, frowning. “Destructive?”
“Each new movement consumes the one that came before,” Moonlight said, starting them forward as the traffic began to creep into motion again. “Chops it up and feeds on the corpse. Takes the bones, but drapes new skin on them. Each new piece of art is in some way a parody of what has come before.”
“You sound like an artist yourself.”
“I have certain talents,” she said. “My experiences have given me an interest in the quirks of the artistic world — and its … values, you might say. Tell me. Let’s say you had one of only sixteen extremely rare pieces of art by the same artist. What would you do to ensure yours becomes the most valuable?”
“If I play along,” Marasi said, “will you tell me about Trell?”
“I’m trying to, right now.”
Marasi frowned, considering. “I have one of sixteen pieces of art … and I must ensure mine is the most valuable?”
“Yup.”
“I’d try to create an air of mystique around it,” Marasi said. “I wouldn’t show it off. I’d let the other fifteen become common by comparison — and the value of mine would increase as people shared the story. There is one more. One no one has seen.”
“Clever,” Moonlight said. “I’m impressed.”
“And what would you do?” Marasi said.
“Steal the other fifteen,” Moonlight said. “Then I’d be able to manipulate the market however I wanted.”
“Ruthless.”
“Not as ruthless as other options. These pieces of art exist, Marasi, and your planet’s god holds two of them.”
“Ruin and Preservation.”
“Indeed. That makes Harmony the most valuable — the most Invested — being in the cosmere. One of the other sixteen decided the best way to improve his stock was to try to destroy all the others. He managed it in a few cases.”
“And … is that Trell?”
Moonlight shook her head. “No, his name is Odium. Trell — Autonomy — had a different idea. You see these buildings? These houses? All pieces of a larger art installation. The grand creation is impressive, but it’s not yours. This kind of pattern, and those straight lines, those reflective panels … that’s from a Taldain movement known as brutalism.
“That’s part of what I hate about Autonomy. She claims she wants everyone to be individual. Gives them each a little house that is distinctive from the others, but only in a way that fits her plan, her desires. It’s fake individualism. A corporate uniqueness. Like an advertisement telling people to go their own way, be their own person — by buying this product like everyone else.”
Marasi struggled to parse all of this. But what she understood reinforced what she had suspected. A being from another planet was leading this city, and had plans for the people of Marasi’s world.
“What is Trell’s goal, then?” Marasi asked. “If he doesn’t want to destroy the other gods?”
“Trell is trying to edge out the others,” Moonlight said. “She — he, they, it varies — doesn’t like engaging other gods directly. We call them Shards, by the way. Autonomy is trying to outcompete the others by filling the cosmere with versions of herself. Crowd out the competition, so to speak. Like an extremely invasive plant moving into another ecosystem and strangling the local varieties.”
Marasi frowned. “I … think I understand.”
“Conversations about Autonomy can be confusing,” Moonlight said, her eyes on the road. “Trellism is the remnants of an ancient religion on your world, originally founded by Autonomy long, long ago. A seed for when she decided to move in. Now, that time has come. Autonomy is looking for someone on this planet to fully take up that role, that identity.”
“Wait, take up that role?”
“She wants to leave a god behind on this planet,” Moonlight explained. “Someone who bears some of her power, who sees to her interests, and is — in many ways — a piece of her soul. She does this all around the cosmere. Some worlds have entire pantheons that are all versions of her, each of which has a distinct personality and identity.”
“So … she’s role-playing? With herself?”
“Yes,” Moonlight said. “But Autonomy’s Investiture has a life of its own, and so each version of her becomes its own thing over time. Sometimes they aren’t a person but only power. Other times, if the situation needs more oversight, she picks someone to elevate.”
“So…” Marasi said, “she’s going to take our world by setting up a rival god and forcing Harmony out?”
“Basically,” Moonlight said. “Your planet is a primary target for her, Marasi. Two Shards in residence, held by one person, frightens her. You had gunpowder weapons and electricity before any planet in the cosmere aside from her core homeworld. She sees you getting stronger, learning more and more. Getting close to real secrets. It makes you the biggest threat in the cosmere, at least to her.”