Monsters of Men (48 page)

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Authors: Patrick Ness

Tags: #Social Issues, #Juvenile Fiction, #Military & Wars, #Science Fiction, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Monsters of Men
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“We”?
I show back to him.

Wait,
shows the Sky.
It will come

And it does a moment later, the voices of the Pathways’ receiving the voices of the Land from down below, showing us the explosion in the middle of the city, an explosion at the head of a great crowd of the Clearing, though the eyes we are seeing it through are high above the city on the lip of the hill, and all we can really see is a flash of fire and a column of smoke.

Is that the Land?
the Source asks.
Has the Land done this?

It has not,
shows the Sky. He steps quickly out of the Pathways’ End, gesturing us to follow. We go to the steep path where I will have to help the still-weak Source climb down, and as we reach it, the Source’s voice is filled with one thing–

Fear.

Not for himself, not for the peace process–

Fear for the Knife. All his voice can show is how much he fears losing the Knife on the very morning they were to be reunited, fear that the worst has happened, that he has lost his son, his most beloved son, and I can feel his heart aching with worry, aching with love and concern–

An ache I know, an ache I have felt–

An ache that passes from the Source to me as we climb down–

The Knife–

Todd–

Standing in my voice, as real and fragile and worthy of life as any other–

And I do not want it.

I do not want it.

[T
ODD
]

A small intake of breath is all the Mayor gives when Mistress Lawson presses the bandages against the back of his scalp, tho the burns there are horrible to see.

“Severe,” Mistress Lawson says, “but shallow. The flash was so fast it didn’t go very deep. You’ll scar, but you’ll heal.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” the Mayor says, as she wipes a clear gel over the burns on his face, which ain’t as bad as on the back of his head.

“I’m merely doing my job,” Mistress Lawson says sharply. “And now there are others to be treated.”

She leaves the healing room of the scout ship, taking a pile of bandages with her. I’m sitting in a chair near the Mayor, burn gel on my hands, too. Wilf is on the other bed, burnt up his front but still alive cuz he was already falling when the bomb went off.

Outside is another story. Using the Noise of the crowd, Lee’s out there helping the dozens of people who were burnt and injured in Mistress Coyle’s suicide.

Killed, too. At least five men and one woman in the crowd.

And Mistress Coyle herself, of course.

And Simone.

Viola ain’t spoken to me since the bomb. She and Bradley are off doing something.

Something away from me.

“It’ll be all right, Todd,” the Mayor says, seeing me keep checking the door. “They’ll realize you had to make a split-second decision and I was closest–”

“No, you weren’t,” I say. I clench my fists and wince at the pain from the burns. “I had to reach farther to grab you.”

“And you
did
grab me,” the Mayor says, marvelling a little.

“Yeah, yeah, all right,” I say.

“You
saved
me,” he says, almost to himself.

“Yeah, I
know–

“No, Todd,” he says, sitting up on the bed, tho it obviously pains him. “You saved
me
. When you didn’t have to. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

“You sure keep trying.”

“I’ll never forget this, that you think of me as worth saving. And I
am,
Todd. And it’s you who’s made me that way.”

“Quit talking like that,” I say. “Other people are dead. Other people I didn’t save.”

He just nods, nods and lets me feel crap all over again for not saving Simone.

And then he says, “She won’t have died in vain, Todd. We’ll make sure of that.”

And he sounds truthful, like he always does.

(it sure
feels
true–)

(and the faint
hum–)

(it’s glowing with
joy–)

I look over to Wilf. He’s staring up at the ceiling, soot-covered skin poking out thru white bandages. “Ah think you mighta saved me, too,” he says. “Yoo said,
Jump
. Yoo said,
Get offa the cart
.”

I clear my throat. “That ain’t really saving you, Wilf. It didn’t save Simone.”

“Yoo were in mah head,” Wilf says. “Yoo were in mah head sayin,
Jump
and my feet were jumpin afore Ah even tole ’em to. Yoo
made
me jump.” He blinks at me. “How d’yoo do that?”

I look away at the thought of it. I probably did do it, reached out and controlled him, and if Simone didn’t have Noise, she wouldn’t have responded to it.

But the Mayor might have. I might not have even
needed
to grab him.

The Mayor sets both feet on the floor and painfully, slowly, brings himself to standing.

“Where do you think yer going?” I say.

“To address the crowds,” he says. “We need to tell them that the peace process doesn’t end because of the actions of one mistress. We need to show them that
I
am still alive and that
Viola
is.” He puts a hand gingerly to the back of his neck. “This peace is fragile. The
people
are fragile. We need to tell them there’s no reason to give up hope.”

I wince a little at his last word.

Mr Tate comes thru the door carrying a pile of clothes. “As requested, sir,” he says, handing ’em to the Mayor.

“Yer putting on clean clothes?” I say.

“So are you,” he says, handing me half the pile. “We certainly can’t go out there in burnt rags.”

I look down at my own clothes, what’s left of ’em after Mistress Lawson peeled the burnt ones off my skin.

“Put them on, Todd,” the Mayor says. “You’ll be surprised at how much better they make you feel.”

(and the faint
hum–)

(the joy of it–)

(it’s kinda making me feel not so terrible–)

I start putting on the new clothes.

{VIOLA}

“There.” Bradley points at the screen in the cockpit. “He
is
closer to Simone, but Prentiss is closer to the edge of the platform.”

He slows down the recording and stops it at the point where Mistress Coyle is about to press the button on the bomb. The point where Simone is still heading straight for her and where Wilf is stepping backwards to jump off the cart.

And where Todd is already reaching for the Mayor.

“He wouldn’t have even had a chance to think,” Bradley says, his voice thick, “much less choose.”

“He went right for the Mayor,” I say. “He didn’t
have
to think.”

We watch the explosion again, an image that was broadcast to the town outside and to the people watching on the hilltop, who are thinking God
knows
what right now.

We watch as the Mayor is saved again.

And Simone isn’t.

Bradley’s Noise is so sad, so
broken,
I can barely look at it.

“You told me,” he says, closing his eyes, “that whoever else I doubted on this planet, Todd was the one I could trust.
You
said that, Viola. And you’ve been right every time.”

“Except this time.” Because I can read Bradley’s Noise, read what it
really
thinks. “You blame him, too.”

He looks away from me, and I see his Noise struggling with itself. “Todd obviously regrets it,” he says. “You can see it all over his face.”

“But you can’t
hear
it. Not in his Noise. Not the truth.”

“Have you asked him?”

I just look again at the screen, at the fire and chaos that followed Mistress Coyle blowing herself up.


Viola–

“Why did she do it?” I say, too loud, trying to ignore the sudden Simone-shaped hole in the world. “Why when we had peace?”

“Maybe with the both of them gone,” Bradley says sadly, “she hoped the planet would rally around someone like you.”

“I don’t
want
that responsibility. I didn’t ask for it.”

“But you could probably have it,” he says. “And you’d use it wisely.”

“How do you know?” I say. “
I
don’t even know that. You said war should never be personal, but that’s all it’s
ever
been for me. If I hadn’t fired that missile, we wouldn’t even be here. Simone would still be–”

“Hey,” Bradley says, stopping me because I’m getting even more upset. “Look, I need to contact the convoy, tell them what happened.” His Noise folds with grief. “Tell them we’ve lost her.”

I nod, my eyes wetting further.

“And you,” he says, “you need to talk to your boy.” He lifts my chin. “And if he needs saving, then you save him. Isn’t that what you told me you did for each other?”

I let go a few more tears but then I nod. “Over and over again.”

He gives me a hug, a strong and sad one, and I leave him so he can call the convoy. I walk the short hallway back to the healing room as slow as I can, feeling like someone’s torn me in two. I can’t believe Simone is dead. I can’t believe
Mistress Coyle
is dead.

And I can’t believe Todd saved the Mayor.

But it’s Todd. Todd, who I trust with my life.
Literally
. I trusted him to put these bandages on me, which frankly have me feeling better than I have in months.

And if he saved the Mayor, then there must be a reason. There
must
be.

I take a deep breath outside the door of the healing room.

Because that reason is
goodness,
isn’t it? Isn’t that what Todd basically is? Despite the mistakes, despite killing the Spackle by the riverside, despite the work he did for the Mayor, Todd is essentially good, I know this, I’ve seen it, I’ve
felt
it in his Noise-

But I can’t feel it any more.

“No,” I say again. “It’s Todd. It’s
Todd
.”

I push the panel to open the door.

And see Todd and the Mayor wearing matching uniforms.

[T
ODD
]

I see her in the doorway, see how healthy she’s looking–

See her see the clothes me and the Mayor are wearing, the same right down to the gold stripe on the sleeves of the jackets.

“It’s not what you think,” I say, “my clothes were all burnt–”

But she’s already stepping back from the door, stepping away–


Viola,
” the Mayor says, strong enough to stop her. “I know this is a tough time for you, but we must address the people. We must reassure them that the peace process will go forward as planned. And as soon as we can, we must send a delegation to the Spackle to assure them of the same thing.”

Viola looks him square in the eye. “You say
must
way too easy.”

The Mayor tries to smile thru his burns. “If we don’t talk to the people right now, Viola, things could fall apart. The Answer might wish to finish Mistress Coyle’s action and use this moment of chaos to do so. The Spackle could attack us for the same reason. My own men might even get it into their heads that I’m incapacitated and decide to stage a coup. I trust that these are not outcomes you would want.”

And I can see that she feels it, too.

The weird joy coming from him.

“What would you say to them?” she says.

“What would you like me to say?” he asks. “Tell me and I’ll repeat it word for word.”

She narrows her eyes. “What are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing at anything,” he says. “I could have died today and I did not. And I did not because Todd saved me.” He steps forward, eagerness in his voice. “It may not have been what you wanted, but if Todd saved me, then I’m worth saving, don’t you see? And if I’m worth saving, then we all are, this whole place, this whole
world
.”

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