“Though sadly reduced in stature,” Peckham said. “Like the idea, stuck out here doing nothing. Perhaps they’ll both get strong again together.”
Bradley nodded and mouthed, Hear, hear. Rutledge scowled.
The men knocked back the booze, save Waite, who, as a Smiler, was Dry.
It took another round of drinking before anyone could ask Liv the real question. In the end, it was Justice Rutledge who asked, “And how goes the War? Where is the Line now?”
“Kingstown. Kingstown is the westernmost Station. But they have forces as far as Kloan.”
“Where is Kingstown, madam? Where is Kloan?”
Liv told them; she gestured on the table to indicate the distance she and Creedmoor had traveled.
They went silent. Waite’s smile froze. Bradley emitted a barking bitter laugh. Morton’s wife covered her mouth in shock.
“Ah. When we came here,” Morton said, “we marched for many months. Nearly a year. From the farthest west of the settled world to the peace and fertility of the oaks, where we built New Design. . . . Now it’s a quarter of that. The world shrinks.”
Liv went on, “And there are forces of the Line pursuing me. They may be only days away. Gentlemen, it may be possible for us to make an alliance with John Creedmoor, who—”
“Never.” Bradley banged his stein on the table. “The fight comes to us. Again. At last.”
The guests departed, and Morton retired to bed. Sally tried to refuse all help with the cleaning, but Liv wouldn’t hear of it. Liv took a brush and set to work.
They chatted. Liv probed gently, careful not to spook the girl—and so learned that Sally had been born on the trek, and her earliest memories were of New Design; and that her brother was a promising young guardsman and a fine shot with both bow and rifle; and that she was a schoolteacher; and that Captain Morton was very kind; and that there was a dance coming up, which would be much the same as last year’s dance; and—
“Dr. Bradley seemed an angry man,” Liv said.
Sally dropped her dark eyes. “I couldn’t say.”
“Some of you want war. Some of you want to come back to the world and fight.”
“I couldn’t say, ma’am.”
“How strong are you?”
“I couldn’t say.”
“Where does Captain Morton stand?”
“I really can’t say, ma’am.”
“I don’t wish to upset you. I understand, Sally. This must all be a terrible shock. Why, you’ve been here all your life. Out here alone, quiet. Raising your children in peace. What if this changes everything? I imagine it’s different for some of the old men, who were used to war. For instance, Dr. Bradley and Mr. Peckham seem terribly eager to face the Line and Creedmoor both; and so does President Hobart, though he’s too young to remember. Justice Rutledge thinks differently, perhaps. Where does Captain Morton stand?”
The girl shook her head and turned away. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I shouldn’t speak on these things.” Her voice was flat, but she nervously rubbed her pregnant belly.
“Sally—what if there were a way of ending the War? What if I told you there was a secret that would end Gun and Line and bring peace to the world?”
“I don’t know, ma’am. I really shouldn’t be talkin’.”
CHAPTER 42
THE SERPENT
Creedmoor had left the tree line far behind, and walked on bare stone. Ahead of him, the mountain gathered into a spearlike peak, stabbing the sun. The sun was so bright that he could hardly see. The rocks baked and glittered. The beast led him on with traces of blood, scatterings of scale, and above all, the electric-oily-acidic stink of its spoor.
—So let’s say I give the General over to the Knights of Labor. The union men are good in a fistfight, and they have chapters everywhere. They hate the Line, same as they hate all bosses; and they hate you, thieves and shirkers that you are. They hate me, too, after that incident in Beecher City, but maybe they’ll let bygones be bygones if I give them the secret to remake the world. How about that?
No answer. It was still thrilling and a little terrifying to think such things—to be free to think such things.
—We can go hide together in No-Town, I guess, but who knows if it exists, or where, and in any case what good will hiding do?
He stopped to examine a rock on which the beast had sharpened its claws.
—I can never remember these days which Barons and Mayors and Sheriffs are secretly on our side and which are