“Ah, my lord,” the woman said. “This woman isn’t Metalborn. We’ve Invested a spike — a tiny bit, granted — using an ordinary person. All people are Invested by Ruin and Preservation as part of our very makeup — and we have a little extra Preservation, blessed by the Shards upon our creation. We’re pulling some of that out.
“The percentage you get depends on the person. We think it might have to do with how likely they were, genetically, to be Metalborn. But they don’t need that extra if the powers didn’t manifest in them. It’s vestigial. We simply slice it off and use it in a spike. Fully Investing one takes between twenty and thirty people.”
“But can you make Allomancers from those spikes,” Entrone said. “That’s the key part.”
The scientist glanced at the others. “Sir, this is a fantastic result. A huge step forward in—”
“Can you make me Allomancers?” he demanded. “Now. Today. To show Autonomy.”
“No,” Labcoat admitted. “We think we need to code this in some way to give a specific Metallic Art blessing. We’re working on that. We’ve had some few gain a power for a short time using one of these spikes, but it gives out soon after.”
“Damn,” Entrone muttered. “That means Edwarn’s Community project here is still valuable.” He folded his arms, looking worn down again. “But we have nothing to show Autonomy at the present. I’m going to have to do it. I’m going to have to let her army through. Call all of our remaining loyalists — those not working directly for Telsin — into the caverns.”
“But—” Labcoat began.
“We wait,” he said, “for Telsin to initiate her plan. We give her every opportunity. And then … then if it doesn’t work…”
“We survive,” Labcoat said.
“We survive.” He nodded to himself. “I’m going to the Community to see to the perpendicularity.” He waved toward the cell at the rear of the room. “They have all heard and seen too much. They are a liability. Execute them.”
“Of course, my lord,” Labcoat said. Entrone left, leaving the two guards inside, but collecting the two in the tunnel. He slammed the door, making the flimsy structure shake. Fortunately, once outside, he turned and continued farther into the complex instead of walking past Marasi and her team.
“Fetch me some invel gas pellets,” Labcoat said to the assistants in the room. “That will be a painless end for the captives. Fion, tell our loyalists to retreat to the caverns. They can bring their families, but nothing else. A priority-one evacuation order. This is the real thing.”
One of the assistants left at a dead run, also going farther into the complex. The other began fiddling in cabinets at the side of the room. Marasi and the two Ghostbloods crouched in the shadows, whispering.
“We have to get this information to Kelsier,” Moonlight said. “A new way of making spikes could change everything.”
“It’s still brutal,” Marasi whispered back. “Stealing a piece of someone’s soul? It’s better than murdering them, but I doubt this is something we could use in good conscience.”
“You don’t understand,” Moonlight said. “If they’re even close to forging Metalborn out of the raw power of souls — if they’ve had tests that resulted in an Allomancer, no matter how fleeting … Marasi, that path could lead to creating spikes using pure Investiture instead of souls.” She tapped her rucksack, indicating the glowing jars inside.
Ruin. The ability to create spikes in a mechanical way? Even the process of making medallions among the Malwish required Metalborn. If what Moonlight implied was right, then it would change everything.
“For now,” TwinSoul said, “Silajana reminds us that the planet itself is in danger. Getting information to Lord Kelsier is meaningless if that invasion happens. We must follow Entrone and see if we can interfere with Autonomy’s plans.”
Marasi peeked around the corner, looking farther down the tunnel. They could sneak past. But the people in that room were about to be executed …
“We have to help the prisoners,” Marasi said.
“A few lives are meaningless right now,” Moonlight said. “We need to keep moving. It’s our way.”
“It’s not mine,” Marasi said. “I’m an officer of the law. I can’t leave a group of people to be murdered. Besides, he said they’d heard too much. They know something of use to us.”
Moonlight and TwinSoul glanced to one another.
“I’m going to help them,” Marasi said. “There are only two guards. We should be able to stop those with ease.”
“If anything goes wrong,” Moonlight said, “it could alert everyone down here. One gunshot…”
Marasi hesitated, weighing the risks. It might be foolish, she acknowledged, but she hadn’t become a constable to leave people to be murdered. She stood up straight. “It is a risk I will take. Are you with me, or do I do it alone?”
The other two stood. “Let’s do it quickly then,” Moonlight said.
48
Steris had heard that in a fire, the rats were often the first creatures out. They could smell the smoke before the flames raged out of control — and so, on occasion, you could get an early warning of impending danger by watching the rats flee.
That was what she did now, while organizing her thoughts and listening to the other senators prepare their escape routes. She watched Lady Gardre, the woman Steris was almost certain was a member of the Set. So long as Gardre remained in the city, they had time.
But as the minutes stretched long, waiting for TenSoon to return with the Bands, she began to doubt. Perhaps it wasn’t Gardre. Perhaps one of the aides was the real agent, and they’d already fled. Perhaps the Set didn’t actually have anyone in the government’s inner circle. Perhaps–
An aide bustled into the room — and stepped over to Lady Gardre, whispering in her ear.
“Ah,” Gardre said. “I’ll need to deal with this.” Gardre stood up, straightening her jacket. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Steris knew she wouldn’t be. Her departure meant the city was in imminent danger. She passed TenSoon on her way out, and he drew the attention of the others. They didn’t realize.
“Now,” Adawathwyn said, striding around the table to TenSoon, “let’s see how these work. Give me the Bands. Let me walk Harmony’s Path and save the city! I am Metalborn, a Ferring of the mind. Whatever bomb is being delivered here, I can Push it away with the force of a planet! Or I can soar to Bilming and bring justice to those miscreants!”
Ambassador Daal stepped forward, his face hidden behind his mask. “This must be a negotiation. You promised that they wouldn’t be used.”
“Surely you can see the need, Ambassador,” Steris said. “You don’t expect us to simply die if this could save us?”
“Surely you Northerners understand the meaning of the word ‘promise,’” he said, looking at her through the holes in his mask. “I have the authority to negotiate for their return to us.” He leaned forward, his hands on the table, and looked straight at the governor — who leaned away, his eyes widening.
“If you use them,” Daal continued, “then I demand that they must be turned over to us next, for use during the disaster of our choosing. A compromise, yah? If you wish to avoid war, but also use these Bands, that is the only solution. You get this chance. We will also get a chance. Deal?”