“Time is of the essence,” the governor said, looking around the table at the three senators and his vice governor. “If there really is a bomb … we have to move fast.”
“Agreed,” Lord Cett said. “How quickly can we get out of the city?”
“That depends,” the governor said. “Ambassador Daal? Can I take that airship ride now?”
“So long as the streets aren’t packed,” Adawathwyn said, “we can theoretically be out of the city via motorcade in under an hour.”
“Will that be quickly enough?” Lady Hammondess said. “What is the destructive radius of this weapon, kandra? How far away do we have to get to be safe?”
“I’ll send for our families,” the governor said. “We have to do this quietly though, to not inspire a mass panic.”
Steris closed her eyes, feeling sick. On one hand, she understood their emotions. After all, she had sent her children away immediately.
At the same time … Rusts. They were all going to run, weren’t they? She met Constable Reddi’s eyes. He’d slumped in his chair, looking numb. Sworn to protect the people of the city, and there was nothing he could do. Nothing but sit here and dread what was coming.
She didn’t have to do that. She’d dreaded it already. That was the purpose of her lists. She realized, with shock, that her method was actually working. She didn’t feel afraid. She didn’t feel anxious.
She could function.
She had to evacuate the city.
Steris pulled out one of her thickest notebooks, thumping it down on the table. As everyone else started calling for aides to prepare their escapes, she gathered her thoughts and flipped through her notes. She had seven detailed evacuation plans for the city. Which was best in this situation?
After a few minutes though, the governor ordered the door shut again and all aides temporarily expelled. The room’s anxious occupants turned toward him.
“Um,” he said, “Adawathwyn has a suggestion.”
She had composed herself quickly and now stood up in her immaculate Terris robes, hands out invitingly. “The situation is indeed dire. But I have realized we have a solution … upon our arms, so to speak. Lord Waxillium says that there is likely some kind of device that will launch the bomb all the way to our city. But we have Metalborn at our disposal. The greatest wealth of them in all the Basin.
“We should gather Coinshots and station them to Push this weapon away. We can position them atop our highest structures, to watch for the weapon’s arrival — or, better, keep people on call in Bilming, watching. They’ll be able to tell us when it has launched.”
“Pardon me, Adawathwyn,” Steris said. “Have you ever been in a situation where modern weapons fire is discharged? Have you seen the speed at which it moves? Trust me. If this weapon is launched, when it reaches Elendel, it will impact too quickly for an Allomancer to stop.”
The vice governor wilted for a second, then her eyes widened. “What if,” she said, “we had an Allomancer with access to all the abilities and powers of the Lord Ruler?”
Several in the room gasped. Daal stood up straight, his masked eyes fixated on Adawathwyn.
“It’s an emergency,” she said. “A true emergency. The entire city is in danger! We need someone who can think the thoughts of a thousand people, someone who can move planets and raise mountains. We need … the Bands of Mourning.”
Bother.
First off, the Bands didn’t work that way. They gave a person supercharged metallic abilities — yes — but they didn’t contain “all the powers of the Lord Ruler.” Unfortunately, the mythology surrounding them and Wax’s use of them had only grown over the years.
That said, Steris had considered using the Bands — they often factored into her calculations. A powerful relic created by the Survivor — or maybe the Lord Ruler — which granted vast Metalborn powers to the holder wasn’t the sort of thing one ignored.
“We can’t use the Bands,” Steris said. “The people of Elendel made a promise. The foundation of a treaty.”
Behind them, Admiral Daal — so quiet through most of the meeting — approached the table. “The Bands of Mourning,” he said, “were entrusted to the Faceless Immortals, under the strict understanding that the Bands would never be employed by your people.”
Technically, the Bands weren’t to be employed unless the Malwish attacked Elendel. That had been the actual deal, a way of making certain that Malwish aggression didn’t go too far.
“Surely, Ambassador,” Adawathwyn said, “you can see our need for self-preservation. You wouldn’t deny us the means, in this dire emergency, to protect ourselves from this calamity?”
“Surely,” Ambassador Daal said, “you understand that any action by those in the Basin using this sacred relic — however dire the situation — must be seen as an act of aggression against my people. You don’t think we’ve suffered catastrophes that we wish we could have used the Bands to stop? We could have been using them to save lives these past six years! But our agreement was that they were too powerful for anyone to use.”
The room fell silent. He’s playing some kind of game here, Steris thought. She couldn’t fathom what.
“We…” the governor said, licking his lips. “We should fetch them. If an Allomancer with enhanced speed of thought could Push away this bomb before it lands, that gives us a chance.”
“They don’t have as much power as you think,” Steris said. “They can’t accomplish that.”
“Actually,” TenSoon said, “there’s a possibility.”
“What?” Steris asked.
“There are … things about the interactions of the powers you don’t know,” he said. “I have only hints. I think it might be possible … to send the bomb away using the Bands. But the deal we made…”
“Holy One,” the governor said, “what would Harmony say, should it come down to our survival as a city or betraying the Malwish trust. What are his wishes?”
TenSoon stood quietly for a moment, then spoke with a growling voice. “I will fetch the Bands.”
and leeched her steel reserves.
“Give me the compass,” I said, “and we’ll leave you at the next outcropping.”
Vila peered over her shoulder at the approaching stone where the Haunted Man waited.
She glanced at me, her eyes wide, no doubt realizing that without any steel, she couldn’t Coinshot away. She was trapped. In her surprise, she forgot to hold onto anything but the compass.
I had not planned on that.
“No!” I screamed, immediately dropping my parasol and reaching for Vila. I serendipitously caught her by the lace of her frilly coat.
“You saved me?” she asked. “Don’t you want me to fall?”
“Harmony no,” I said.
She clocked me in the face with the compass, which honestly was a bad move on her part. I instinctively let go of her.
As Vila fell, I keeled forward, trying to catch her again, but serendipity is a fickle thing, and my hand missed hers by a hair. Horrified, I watched the mists swallow her. The sudden shifting of my weight, however, threw me from the claw.
Suddenly weightless, I feared this might be the end.
Then I felt air pushed by large wings. A claw snatched me and dropped me on the outcropping next to the Haunted Man.
I slid to a stop just shy of the edge, my custom Miele Jedon boots sending pebbles clacking over the side. Bless those shoes and their fashionable yet grippy soles. (You can get a pair at Ardenne’s on 9th. They’re custom, yes, but drop my name, and the clerks there will be keen to help.)