Of Dreams and Rust - Sarah Fine Page 0,11
me.”
He sounds excited as he confirms all my fears. “Boss Inyie received a large order from the national army this morning. Battle machines and a carrier as well. He is ecstatic. War means money.”
I stare at him. “War means suffering and death.”
Bo shrugs. “It means the war machines will have their day. I’ve always wanted to see one in action.”
“Are you saying that just to upset me?” I cry.
He shakes his head, looking puzzled at my reaction. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”
I point toward the compound gate. “It’s going to be locked at midnight. The guard warned me.”
Bo looks unsurprised. “And from now on Gochan Two will not close. Not until they have fully equipped the national forces. They are calling in the weekend staff and hiring extra men on the pretense that they are building a new civilian transport machine. Boss Inyie wants to house the entire staff here and close the compound to keep the secret from spreading. New hires will be able to come in, but no one will be able to leave.”
That explains why all the men were lugging rucksacks. My stomach feels hollow. “The army is planning an invasion.” It’s really happening. My father was right—when the rebels took Kegu, the government decided to take action.
“Very soon,” Bo says. “Apparently, several battalions of troops will arrive within the week. We are the gateway to the western province.”
“No,” I breathe. “So many will die.”
Bo’s metal hands flex as his excitement is transmitted through his muscles. “They’ll send an advance force of war machines to decimate the resistance. The machines can move through the hills quickly and do not need roads or tracks. They’ll catch the rebels by surprise.”
Melik’s village is nestled at the opening of the canyon. “They will kill more than rebels.”
Bo chuckles. “I believe that is the idea.”
I step away from him, my whole body shaking.
Bo does not notice. He is gazing at the hills. “I wish I could pilot a war machine. I have dreamed of such a thing for years. I’ve studied their designs. I understand them very well, what they can do. I could—”
“Can you stop them, Bo?” The idea occurs to me all at once. If anyone can prevent this invasion of metal monsters, it is the Ghost. “Can you sabotage the floor? Shut it down?”
His eyebrows rise. “Why would I ever want to do that?”
He knows why. But if I say Melik’s name out loud, I know it will hurt him. Besides, Melik is not the only one I’m worried about. “Because I am asking you to, Bo. Because it would save lives.”
“Whose lives, Wen?” His tone sharpens. “The war machines will crush the rebellion before the bulk of the army even arrives. Think of the lives that will save.”
“At the expense of so many others.”
“But those are Noor. Do you realize you’re asking me to betray our people? Our entire country?”
“You speak as if the Noor are not a part of our country.”
“It’s called Itanya for a reason,” he says coldly.
“I have to go,” I say in a choked voice.
Bo’s brow furrows. “Why? The fireworks haven’t started yet.” All at once he seems so childlike, easily diverted by the things that bring him delight. But as his gaze skims over my face, his expression hardens. “As always, your only thoughts are of that foolish Noor boy who walked away from you.”
My bottom lip trembles. “That’s not true. Or fair.”
Bo’s jaw ridges with tension, and he leans forward. “He deserves everything he gets,” he hisses suddenly.
I shake my head, imagining children playing in the shadow of the hills, looking up to see their death descending upon them. I picture their mothers trying in vain to protect them. I remember the pain in Melik’s eyes as he told me about the last time the war machines came through the canyon. “This is about more than that, and more than him.”
Bo’s mechanical fists clench. “The red Noor made his choice. They all did.”
“What would you do if you were in his place?” I ask, my voice cracking. “Would you break, Bo? Have you ever broken? Can you blame him for refusing to surrender?”
“I blame him for exactly one thing,” he says, “and as for the rest, I don’t care.”
“Then you are as unfeeling as you look,” I snap, gesturing at his mechanical arms.
“Or perhaps I feel more than you could ever guess, whether I want to or not!” he shouts, then turns away quickly, grimacing, his metal fingers clicking. “Either