\nTam was just getting to the good part when, behind him, Kaeta said, \u201cDon\u2019t move.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nHis eyes unfocused from the page. \u201cWhat?\u201d he said cautiously.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYou\u2019ve got something\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/em>\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt looks like a bee.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nSomething moved on his bare shoulder. Gentle insect feet. He could feel the brush of its fur, the weightless warmth of it.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMaybe if I\u2026\u201d Kaeta flapped a timid swat of air at him.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDon\u2019t,\u201d he said. \u201cLet it be. It\u2019s not doing any harm.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHe went back to his book and the blue ocean beyond, strangely pleased about the bee. The story began to gain momentum again, and when Kaeta said, \u201cAh, it\u2019s gone,\u201d he had to resurface into the physical world to understand what she meant. He hadn\u2019t even felt it leave.\n<\/p>\n \n \n\u201cI wouldn\u2019t exactly call it a plague,\u201d said Tam as the caf\u00e9 boy put the glasses down on the table.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter what you\u2019d call it,\u201d replied Banur, nodding politely at the boy even as he sized up his cool glass of cider with dark-ringed, famished eyes. \u201cIt\u2019s officially a plague.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThere\u2019s hardly been–cheers–hardly a noticeable increase in-\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe\u2019ve only caught the very edge of it,\u201d said Banur, who\u2019d obviously explained this many times. \u201cThe air pressure pulled it further inland than predicted. If you want to see it in all its glory, hop on the train to Lindolm.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh?\u201d Tam sipped at his beer and licked the foam from his lips.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes,\u201d said Banur. \u201cI haven\u2019t seen it–they\u2019ve cracked down on leafleters and postcard artists this time–but by all accounts the mountains have just made the whole city into a kind of\u2026\u201d He yawned and gestured vaguely with his long fingers. \u201cSorry. A kind of bowl.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cA bowl\u2026 filled with bees?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat\u2019s what they\u2019re saying.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam raised his eyebrows. \u201cWell, that\u2019s an image and a half.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIsn\u2019t it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAt least it\u2019s just bees,\u201d said Tam hopefully. \u201cThey\u2019re meant to be good, aren\u2019t they? Good omens.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBanur made a noncommittal sound.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot good?\u201d ventured Tam.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019s not the bees part, it\u2019s the plague part.\u201d Banur drained half his glass in one. \u201cIt could be a plague of kittens and it would still be a problem.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAll those little badly-socialised claws,\u201d said Tam.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cQuite.\u201d Banur\u2019s smile was tired. \u201cYou know this, Tam. You weren\u2019t that bad a student. It\u2019s not the \u2018of\u2019. The imbalance is the problem. The, whatsit, the disharmony, if you like.\u201d An ember of wickedness lit his face. \u201cYou know, the Ministry mooted changing the name once to avoid the confusion.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam leaned in. \u201cYou know I love some Ministry gossip.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt was all before my time, so most of it\u2019s been buried in shame, but someone came up with \u2018muchness\u2019.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam snorted into his beer. \u201cA muchness of frogs!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cA muchness of boils, a muchness of twee, grisly death visited on all the second children\u2026 In the end they quietly killed the idea.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo we\u2019re stuck with plagues then,\u201d said Tam.\n<\/p>\n \nBanur grimaced.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh no,\u201d said Tam. \u201cBanur, no. Don\u2019t make that face. When? What will it be this time?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe don\u2019t know yet,\u201d said Banur. \u201cAnd you didn\u2019t hear it from me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cPlease let it be a plague of rolling stock. Just this once.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019s in the hands of the powers.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThey nibbled on hot spiced nuts for a while in silence, Banur yawning from time to time. They\u2019d come a long way from the ambitious boys studying for the government exams at these tables. Their companionable silence was unbreachable too, Tam barricaded behind his stacks of scrolls and numbers, and Banur all but hidden in the shadows of his Ministry\u2019s secrets.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo,\u201d said Banur at last. \u201cRolling stock, is it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAh,\u201d said Tam. He cleared his throat. \u201cWell, there have been some issues.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHe took a deep draught of beer in the hopes that it would cool the embarrassment in his cheeks. Hours of overtime and drafting statements, massaging numbers and leaking ambiguous words to pamphleteers in pubs paled and shrank from government glamour into something small and grubby.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat kind of issues?\u201d asked Banur, relentless.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWell, the, um, the comet shower the other month, sort of\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAh, I remember reading something. It, what was it, disrupted the supply line?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou could say that,\u201d said Tam unhappily, and indeed he had written the words himself. \u201cOne of our warehouses got flattened.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBanur made a sympathetic face. \u201cOof.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAll brand new rolling stock, built to spec. We were going to send Minister Paro out to sit in one, get some commemorative postcards drawn up.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh, Tam.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam sighed into his beer. \u201cIt was meant to make people forget how horribly over-budget the project is and get them excited for the new line.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cTam, stop. I\u2019ll cry.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes, yes, very funny.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat\u2019s funny about it?\u201d protested Banur.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI know the Transport Ministry is insignificant compared to Interpreting, but-\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBanur was fully indignant now. \u201cWho said that? I never said that!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWell it is-\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cPeople need transport, and they want Ferthian Two.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBanur held up two fingers to the caf\u00e9 boy: same again. He directed a meaningful look at Tam. The caf\u00e9 boy did his best but the corner of his mouth twitched in sympathy with Banur as he went to fetch the drinks. Banur loved making him look dramatic in front of the caf\u00e9 boys.\n<\/p>\n \nTam felt himself redden further. \u201cJust, with everything at your place\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cScrew my place,\u201d said Banur. \u201cI like hearing about your work. It\u2019s nice to hear about something normal for once.\u201d He leaned forward. \u201cHave you decided what colour Ferthian Two will be on the maps yet?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot yet.\u201d Tam glanced up at Banur. \u201cLook, all this plague stuff\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBanur snorted.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHow\u2026 how bad is it going to get?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBanur made that noncommittal sound again. \u201cOh, who knows?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou do,\u201d said Tam flatly.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd I\u2019d rather not talk about it. Ah, good, here come the drinks. Now. Tell me about the logo designs. They\u2019d better have vetoed Minister Marruth\u2019s execrable idea with the ducks. I know Lady Brira will have had something to say about it, and I want to hear every mordant word of it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \nWhat little self-importance Tam generated in his caf\u00e9 sessions with Banur evaporated in the baking heat of the meeting hall, listening to the ministers on the Ferthian Two committee drone on while he filled scroll after scroll with the minutes, recording for posterity every inane question, every tedious snipe. Scribbling away, the inked letters taking on the subtle texture of the stone table beneath the paper, he felt even less than the assistant to Minister Paro. He was a pair of ears and hands and a framework holding them together.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI think I could use a break now, how about the rest of you?\u201d said Lady Brira.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI could have used a break for the last half hour, if I\u2019m honest,\u201d said Minister Marruth from the head of the table, and stood.\n<\/p>\n \nTam wrote, Break in proceedings,<\/em> and set his pen down, stretching out his fingers. The rest of the committee got up gratefully and swept or creaked their way out. Tam stayed where he was, enjoying the quiet.\n<\/p>\n \nWhite gauzy curtains blew in through the tall windows, sighing gusts of warm air. He couldn\u2019t hear the sea but he imagined he could, that huge breathing sound.\n<\/p>\n \nHe imagined no trains.\n<\/p>\n \nNo sight or sound or smell of them. No glint of new-laid train tracks. No golem-dust or shrieks of charm-bent metal, or cracks in the wave-and-gull stamped paving tiles where the government-issue golems had glitched and dropped their loads. The mayor was going to let them get away with the recent damage to the Jasmine Quarter without paying damages, as long as Lady Brira kept sweet-talking her. Tam had no idea what promises had been made behind those closed doors, and Minister Paro had told him not to ask.\n<\/p>\n \nAt least they\u2019d be able to keep the golems on-site until the comet damage was cleaned up without anyone asking too many questions. If everything went well they could even win back some time and give the city a pleasant surprise, or a lessened disappointment.\n<\/p>\n \nEchoes of good-natured talk outside signalled the resumption of the meeting. The committee filed back in and took their seats, robes swishing, chains clanking, chairs scraping the floor to let others pass. Tam waited for them to settle. They got ruffled when he looked too ready, accused him of rushing them.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWell,\u201d said Minister Gatia. \u201cBack to business. Scribe, read out the last few lines, would you?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam glanced at Minister Marruth\u2019s chair at the head of the table, which remained empty. \u201cShouldn\u2019t we wait\u2026?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat, for him? He\u2019s not coming back.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m s-sorry?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHe\u2019s off to put in his notice.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou\u2019d better note that down,\u201d said Minister Paro.\n<\/p>\n \nTam did so, dazed. Minister Marruth resigned his post during the break in proceedings.<\/em>\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI knew he couldn\u2019t hack it,\u201d said Lady Brira. \u201cAll he wanted was an easy project that would do itself while he dozed his life away. Something to look good on his title petition.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou\u2019d better not note that down,\u201d added Minister Paro.\n<\/p>\n \nTam set his pen down diplomatically.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe only have one problem before we can get started again, then,\u201d said Minister Gatia from the opposite end of the table. \u201cWho\u2019s project lead now?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam picked his pen back up slowly, as though it was a weapon.\n<\/p>\n \nBut the existing project hierarchy ultimately held, and the committee members smiled and laughed through their ambitions, eyes shining through their agendas, brushing away their motives in polite hand-gestures, after you.<\/em> The room echoed with scraping chairs again as everyone moved one step up the ladder, and Tam frantically scrawled down the new committee list. He was barely done when the last chair screeched into place, and only the seat next to him was empty. The scroll was spattered with ink drops.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cRight,\u201d said Minister Paro. \u201cNow that Minister Gatia\u2019s problem is solved, we\u2019re left with an incomplete committee.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam counted around the table with the rest of them. Eight committee members remained, one short of the legally and prophetically required nine.\n<\/p>\n \nCountess Cullyan stood up. \u201cI can\u2019t take any more of this. Meeting adjourned.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMeeting not <\/em>adjourned,\u201d said Minister Gatia sharply. \u201cI\u2019m head of the project now. I decide when we adjourn. There must be someone.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOf course there is,\u201d said Minister Paro, and Tam was horrified to note that Minister Paro was looking right at him.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWho\u2019s the scribe going to know?\u201d Countess Cullyan sat down in a huff, robes and dust billowing around her.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHe\u2019s not just a hired scribe,\u201d said Minister Paro, \u201che\u2019s my assistant. How about it, Tammalin?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cM-me?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cFancy being part of the most cursed project since Regent Levenne\u2019s Bridge to the Sky?\u201d added Lady Brira.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHush.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI mean,\u201d said Tam, \u201cwell, um, if there\u2019s, yes, all right, delighted, thank you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWelcome on board,\u201d said Minister Paro, with a smile that wasn\u2019t reassuring in the least.\n<\/p>\n \n \nKaeta scrambled over the rocks, and stood with her hair and dress blowing just right in the wind, more like a painting of a woman by the sea than the real thing. She shook her hair out of the way and turned to Tam.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cStop thinking about work and get over here!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam hadn\u2019t really been thinking about work. He\u2019d been thinking about how he felt about work now that his position had changed so drastically and with such little fanfare. He\u2019d been examining and curating his feelings about it, trying to reproduce in manageable miniature the changed person he was. A full committee member. He\u2019d read all of the pamphlets reporting Minister Marruth\u2019s resignation avidly, feeling like part of real, recorded history, though no one had mentioned him.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cTam!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam sighed and shouldered the picnic bag, clambering over the pebbles until he reached the bigger rocks jutting out to sea with their curved faces and secret footholds, hidden pools that never emptied. \u201cThe food will wait,\u201d he replied, pulling himself over a narrow abyss with a glint of seawater running deep between the sculpted grey cliffs.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019s not the-! Tam, get here!\u201d She crouched on her haunches over something.\n<\/p>\n \nThe thing lay wedged between rocks far below them, and it stank. The waves bloated and fell around it, carrying grey-specked foam and shreds of putrid flesh back out to sea. Tentacles and appendages moved lazily in the pull.\n<\/p>\n \nWhales beached themselves semi-regularly on the beaches of Ferth, but no whale had ever looked or smelt like this. Omen,<\/em> thought Tam.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d he asked in fascinated horror.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI was hoping you\u2019d know,\u201d said Kaeta.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhy would I know?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDidn\u2019t you do interpreting at school?\u201d Kaeta covered her nose but didn\u2019t move. Tam wished she would.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI only just managed to scrape through the exams.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou\u2019re always going to dinner with your old school friend in Interpreting.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHe doesn\u2019t talk work,\u201d said Tam.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh, of course not. Hush-hush. Sworn to secrecy.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo, he really doesn\u2019t. It stresses him out.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nKaeta picked up a stone and dropped it on the carcass, which yielded as though it was in danger of bursting outwards and collapsing in on its own rottenness at the same time.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cPlease don\u2019t do that,\u201d said Tam against his nausea.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cShould we report this?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo,\u201d said Tam firmly. \u201cI don\u2019t want to be one of those awful tragic victims in the pamphlets who\u2019s discovered a bad omen. And I don\u2019t want you to be one either. Not now.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDo you think it makes a difference whether they report it or not, if we found it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI don\u2019t care, let\u2019s just keep it quiet.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo what do you talk about with your Interpreting friend?\u201d asked Kaeta.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHe likes to hear about what I\u2019m doing,\u201d said Tam, feeling like an idiot.\n<\/p>\n \nKaeta turned to smile at him and say silently, I love you, but please.<\/em>\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHe likes how mundane my life is,\u201d said Tam through his teeth.\n<\/p>\n \nKaeta looked back at the omen, satisfied with the answer.\n<\/p>\n \nTam tried to stamp out the sparks of irritation flaring in his chest. There was nothing wrong with his mundane life. It was still a life.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou should ask him about this,\u201d said Kaeta.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHe won\u2019t talk about it,\u201d said Tam, \u201cbut I\u2019ll ask.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThank you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou aren\u2019t worried about it, are you?\u201d asked Tam. He held the picnic bag closed in the hopes that the stench wouldn\u2019t get into it.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat, worried about a year of bad omens and no sign of it letting up?\u201d Kaeta made a face, and Tam made one back. \u201cThe only thing I\u2019m worried about right now is where to eat that won\u2019t make me throw up.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSack the picnic and go to Anngar\u2019s Place instead?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI like the way you think.\u201d Kaeta reached up and Tam took her arm, lifting her to her feet. \u201cAm I too heavy for you yet?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOf course not.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe gave the carcass one last look before they started the climb back down to the beach. \u201cAwful to think how many of them there must be, just swimming around out there.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDo you think its family misses it?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nKaeta shuddered.\n<\/p>\n \nLater, over berries and sweet cream, Tam thought about the beast again. No scavenger had touched it. Even the deflating membranes over its eyes were unbroken.\n<\/p>\n \n \nBanur was stroking the petals of the flowers on the table when Tam stumbled into the cafe, late and out of breath.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThis must be how you feel every time we meet up,\u201d said Banur. \u201cI like it. Feels smug.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d said Tam. \u201cI told them I had to meet someone, but things just kept coming up.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDon\u2019t apologise,\u201d said Banur. \u201cYou\u2019ve been busy.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam sat down, stuck his bag under the table. \u201cYeah\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat\u2019s the Ferthian Two committee like? Everything you dreamed it would be?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot a bit,\u201d said Tam, waving the caf\u00e9 boy over. \u201cI\u2019m just there to make up the numbers. Did you hear how it happened?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI put it together from the pamphlets.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou don\u2019t read the transport pamphlets!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhere do you get these ideas about what I do and don\u2019t do?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOne sweet lemon, please,\u201d said Tam to the caf\u00e9 boy. \u201cAnd make it a big one. A pitcher.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhy do you think I\u2019m not interested in your job?\u201d demanded Banur.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cCome on-\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI like trains!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo one likes trains,\u201d said Tam.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMaybe not people who\u2019ve had their feelings on trains ruined by a committee of idiots,\u201d said Banur. \u201cI don\u2019t know why it\u2019s so hard for you to believe I\u2019m so interested in historical improvements to our infrastructure, but anyway. I hear you were there when the thing washed up.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam coughed to hide his surprise.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIs that why you asked to meet?\u201d Banur asked.\n<\/p>\n \nTam wished he had a drink to fidget with. He stared at the flowers on the table instead. \u201cHow did you hear about it?\u201d He hadn\u2019t told anyone, much less reported it officially.\n<\/p>\n \nBanur watched him, relaxed but with something hard behind his eyes. \u201c\u2019Hear\u2019 is probably the wrong word. There were\u2026 traces.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat do you mean, traces?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThey hadn\u2019t left anything behind, not so much as a footprint. Of that he was sure.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDon\u2019t look like a mouse at the cat\u2019s dinner party,\u201d said Banur in that same light voice, the same steel behind his eyes. \u201cI\u2019m not going to turn you in. No one else knows it was you, just that someone found the omen before we got there.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo it was an omen.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOf course it was an omen.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBut how-?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cCall it a feeling, or a sort of atmospheric imprint. I only knew it was you because I know<\/em> you. And a good thing. The extra details changed the whole meaning. You should know better than that, Tam. Every circumstance is part of the whole.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI didn\u2019t want Kaeta to be involved. Not now.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThe powers don\u2019t discriminate.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHalf a minute later the caf\u00e9 boy appeared again to set down a pitcher of lemon water and a glass.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo beer today?\u201d asked Banur.\n<\/p>\n \nTam shook his head. \u201cMeeting this afternoon,\u201d he replied, a little shaken by the conversation. \u201cCan\u2019t afford to doze off.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cVery responsible.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThese traces,\u201d said Tam, once the caf\u00e9 boy was gone. \u201cAre we cursed now? Is it, I don\u2019t know, linked to us?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo,\u201d said Banur. \u201cWell- no. No.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cReally convincing,\u201d said Tam. The lemon water was sharp on his tongue. \u201cThanks.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDon\u2019t get in a huff,\u201d said Banur. \u201cYou\u2019re the only normal thing left in the world. Don\u2019t take that away from me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam glared. \u201cI\u2019m a person,<\/em> Banur, not a charmed mirror to make you feel better!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI know that,\u201d snapped Banur. \u201cAnd believe me, you\u2019d be thanking me if you- Shit.\u201d He reached up just a split second too late to catch the blood that dropped from his nose right into his drink. It bloomed dark in the glass, tendrils turning slowly. The cider dimmed orange, sunset in a glass.\n<\/p>\n \nTam passed over his napkin but Banur pulled a rust-spotted handkerchief from his coat. \u201cI don\u2019t want them charging me for the laundry,\u201d he said, voice muffled against the linen.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cShall I order you another drink?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBanur laughed hollowly. \u201cI\u2019m not that precious.\u201d His eyes flickered up to Tam. \u201cOh, close your mouth. It\u2019s just spending too much time around all the prophecies that does it. Horrible energy in those cellars.\u201d He sipped his cider and Tam tried not to look revolted. \u201cSo what did you want to talk about?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cKaeta was wondering if we should be worried,\u201d Tam mumbled. His outburst felt in particularly bad taste. Banur had a stressful job. Tam couldn\u2019t begrudge him his escape.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAbout the thing?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYeah.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo. I can emphatically say you shouldn\u2019t worry.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam might have believed him were it not for that cut-off \u201cWell\u201d stuck like a bone in his throat. He didn\u2019t say there was nothing to worry about.<\/em>\n<\/p>\n \nBut wasn\u2019t Minister Paro always telling him not to ask questions whose answers would upset him? So he nodded and said, \u201cThanks,\u201d contritely, and when Banur asked if he was looking forward to being a father, he tried to answer like a normal person.\n<\/p>\n \n \nTam recoiled from a sudden shower of chalky dust, but nothing came tumbling down to crash on his head. The golem turned around above him, releasing more powdery stone from its joints, its carved face almost insultingly calm.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAre we sure we should be here?\u201d he asked Minister Paro. \u201cIt seems a bit-\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThere\u2019s no danger,\u201d replied the minister, brushing golem-dust from his shoulders. \u201cIt\u2019s only the little ones that glitch.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt only takes one of the big ones,\u201d said Tam, holding his case of scrolls over his head just in case.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWell,\u201d said Minister Paro thoughtfully, \u201cI suppose if you want to think of it that way.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam resolved not to ask questions whose answers would upset him.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHow do you think it looks?\u201d asked the minister. \u201cWill we be able to keep the pamphleteering wolves from the door for another month?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI think so,\u201d said Tam. \u201cThey\u2019ve cleaned it up nicely. You can hardly see any comet damage at all.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAny what?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cComet damage,\u201d said Tam. \u201cFrom the shower.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMinister Paro frowned.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThe shower,\u201d said Tam more loudly. \u201cWhen the comets-\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI know what a comet shower is. What are you talking about?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWell, the damage it did.\u201d Tam forged bravely ahead on this increasingly unsteady ground. \u201cThat\u2019s why we extended the schedule. I wrote a piece about it for the pamphlets\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMinister Paro was shaking his head. \u201cTammalin, Tammalin. Rule number one: never believe your own lies.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam knew enough not to let his disappointment show on his face. He tried very hard not to think about which his friends would think him when the truth inevitably came out: a liar or an idiot.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cChin up,\u201d said Minister Paro. \u201cYou\u2019ll get the hang of it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam\u2019s mind drifted as the inspection continued. He nodded and looked interested as the foreman in his dragonskin gloves and battered tortoiseshell hat explained their progress, but in his mind he was off in a parallel world where the Ferthian Two project had fallen to him and he was fixing<\/em> things, untangling all of the contracts and promises, ushering in an age of transparency.\n<\/p>\n \nSomeone pushed him hard and the image shattered. He looked around, bruised and confused, for the culprit, but the world was suddenly dark and everything was moving beneath the liquid blackness of the clouds. The ground shuddered insistently, shaking Tam as if to hurry him to the conclusion: earthquake.\n<\/p>\n \nSomething shattered. Something groaned. Something crashed and screamed and roared and Tam was running, his mind full of Kaeta.<\/em> On his feet one minute and diving forward the next, hitting the ground on his side and lunging onwards again. A golem wobbled and the crate in its hands surged and retreated coyly to equilibrium. As Tam fled the construction zone the crate tipped again and delicately passed the point of no return, showering bolts like silver rain that tinkled to earth before the crunch of wood and crash of golem.\n<\/p>\n \nTam burned and panted, blinking in the blotted day, furiously trying to get his bearings.\n<\/p>\n \nWhere was Kaeta? He should love her enough to know without looking, to feel her presence the way Banur had touched the ghost of Tam on the beach where the omen had been washed up. Banur would have been able to do it, and the thought maddened him because Banur was better than him at everything.\n<\/p>\n \nHome. Work. Temple. He didn\u2019t know where to go.\n<\/p>\n \nHe ran like a half-turned werewolf, on two legs, three, four, whatever he needed to keep him going. The ground stopped shaking but Tam swiped the sweat from his eyes and blew out hot clouds of air and kept on running.\n<\/p>\n \nThe clouds had dissipated and the sun was shining once more when he finally made it home, bent nearly double, clutching the stitch in his side. He\u2019d sweated away most of his urgency, panted out his jealousy. Now he was just annoyed and breathless, beginning to worry about all the time that had passed since he\u2019d fled the building site without telling Minister Paro where he was going, or checking that Minister Paro hadn\u2019t been crushed by falling construction materials. Maybe he should go back. He could excuse himself easily with shock, throw Kaeta\u2019s pregnancy in for good measure.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cTam, what the hell are you doing standing in the doorway?\u201d yelled Kaeta from the street.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMe?\u201d he bellowed back at her. \u201cWhat are you doing not being at bloody home?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe threw herself at him and he caught her. She sent torrents of words over his neck and into his ear, muffled against him. \u201cYou weren\u2019t at the office! They sent me on some wild goose chase to your cursed train line and everything\u2019s ruined, Tam, it\u2019s all rubble, and I helped them dig through it because I thought I\u2019d find you, until your minister popped up and told me you\u2019d gone haring off into town!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAt least the minister\u2019s okay,\u201d mumbled Tam.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI thought you were dead!\u201d Kaeta screamed in his face.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI<\/em> thought you<\/em> were dead!\u201d Tam roared back. \u201cI\u2019m glad you aren\u2019t!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMe too!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThey clung to each other in a kind of angry relief, as though the other was the only stable thing in a spinning, shaking world. Tam knew it was an illusion. If the world really started shaking, he and Kaeta would go flying along with everything else.\n<\/p>\n \n \nThe damage wasn\u2019t as bad as it could have been, at least along Ferthian Two. By all accounts some of the more central city quarters had been flattened, but once the worst of the wreckage was cleared away the new-laid railway was just a little dented.\n<\/p>\n \nTam held all of this optimism in his mind as he sat by Minister Paro on the long hard bench of the People\u2019s Palace hearing chamber, waiting to be addressed. This was one of the extra duties his position as a fully-fledged committee member had foisted on him. That and another sudden departure.\n<\/p>\n \nMinister Paro had assured him he wouldn\u2019t have to speak, but Tam had been burned before.\n<\/p>\n \nHis guts writhed absentmindedly at the thought of everything he might be called on to say. One question about budget or timescale or paying the contractors on time and he would simply melt right through the cracks in the floor tiles.\n<\/p>\n \nHe was far from the most nervous person in the room, though. The shadows on the other side of the chamber were alive with squirming commoners, granted an audience with the mayor. As if they had anything to be nervous about.\n<\/p>\n \nThey all stood for the mayor\u2019s entrance, flanked by her guards and advisors. She let them stand for a while before opening the hearing.\n<\/p>\n \nLots of demands for explanations and reparations after the bad omens of late came from the commoners\u2019 benches. Tam didn\u2019t envy the mayor having to explain over and over that she couldn\u2019t just ask the earth not to shake, the stars to form more pleasing shapes in the sky, the two-headed calves to do the decent thing and remain unborn.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd how about the jewel in our crown?\u201d she said at last, in a tone that homed right in on Tam\u2019s chest. \u201cWhat news of Ferthian Two?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHe got up with Minister Paro, bowed when Minister Paro bowed, and waited for the inevitable.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWork is progressing as planned,\u201d said Minister Paro.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cGood. Anything else to report?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cDamage from the earthquake was minimal, and as soon as a new golem is provided we\u2019ll be back to work.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe mayor nodded. \u201cWe\u2019ll discuss the financial details later. Get an appointment from one of my aides.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt shall be done,\u201d said Minister Paro, and the mayor moved on to the next petitioner. \u201cThere we go,\u201d he said, once they were sat down again. \u201cPainless, eh? Just as I said.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cShe didn\u2019t ask any questions,\u201d said Tam out of the side of his mouth, pretending on his face that this was all as he had expected.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cShe wouldn\u2019t dare, with how much we pay her.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nAll those mysterious holes in the budget,<\/em> thought Tam glumly.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cReally, how long have you been my assistant for?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSometimes I wonder myself,\u201d said Tam, but the minister didn\u2019t seem to have heard.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWell, no point hanging around here any longer. Our job here is done. Shall we celebrate our hard work in the Back Office?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI think I\u2019ll stay here,\u201d said Tam.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSuit yourself. I\u2019ll be in my usual room if you change your mind.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam nodded vaguely and Minister Paro shuffled out. Thoughts drifted through his mind and didn\u2019t catch. He watched people stand up and sit down, heard their words, but it all flowed right through him as though he was a ghost.\n<\/p>\n \nBetter than being in the Back Office, the government\u2019s little pub, which was always filled with important people whose faces he recognised from pamphlets talking about secret things. He didn\u2019t belong, and it didn\u2019t help that they kept giving him their drinks orders and asking him where their coats were.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThe next speaker is from the Ministry of Interpreting,\u201d said the mayor. \u201cHopefully we\u2019ll get some answers about the omen and prophecy situation.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBanur walked through the benches in his formal, smoke-coloured robes, and Tam\u2019s empty mind blanked hard.\n<\/p>\n \nBanur blinked in surprise when he caught Tam\u2019s eye. Tam was sure he himself was gawping. He only saw the lead in Banur\u2019s hand and the goat that the lead was attached to when he was almost at the mayor\u2019s dais. Maybe the Back Office would be a better idea after all, but before he could get up everyone around him had crystallised into position, leaning forward in anticipation of the reading.\n<\/p>\n \nTam focused his eyes on one of the wall mosaics, a portrait of a long-dead mayor with a spaniel at her feet and a couple of dead pheasants hanging over her shoulder, and didn\u2019t watch Banur introduce himself and take out his ritual blade with long-fingered grace.\n<\/p>\n \nHe didn\u2019t think about all the times Banur had done this before, instead focusing on the rather lovely shading in the mosaic. He studied the shadows falling over the mayor\u2019s robes, the quality of light captured in coloured tiles, and ignored the goat\u2019s short scream.\n<\/p>\n \nThere was a thump and faint clatter of hooves, and then silence. The sounds of movement were brisk, unhurried, efficient.\n<\/p>\n \nTam looked down very slightly between heads and shoulders, but the worst parts were all hidden by Banur, just a glimpse of pinkish gleam under Banur\u2019s arm.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd?\u201d said the mayor.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot good,\u201d said Banur. \u201cSee that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam stood slowly on his tiptoes.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019s going to get worse. That thing on the gallbladder says a lot<\/em> worse.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou said last month-\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat maybe we\u2019d get a clearer picture this month,\u201d said Banur firmly. \u201cAnd we have, unfortunately, from the point of view that we\u2019re illuminating a little more of the way ahead of us as we go.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe spectators drew back, and a few began to whisper among themselves. The Ministry of Interpreting had a reputation.\n<\/p>\n \nThe mayor herself looked nervous. \u201cI have to ask,\u201d she said. \u201cIf I may.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBanur, wiping the gore off his silver blade, nodded.\n<\/p>\n \nSo different,<\/em> thought Tam, from when they were chatting in the caf\u00e9, but still Banur. Was he well-suited to the Ministry or had the Ministry shaped him to its needs?<\/em>\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cEverything that\u2019s happened so far has been a sign.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOf what?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe don\u2019t know,\u201d said Banur, the words polished bright and hard from overuse. \u201cWe only know aspects of what is to come. And we do not,\u201d he added more loudly when the mayor tried to interrupt, \u201cthink it prudent to share our full interpretations at this time.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat comes after?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHave you not-?\u201d Banur cut himself off and sighed. He looked around warily at all of the people there, with a sad, dry quirk of a smile at Tam, and said at last, \u201cWe can\u2019t see an after. There\u2019s nothing. An end, a beginning, we don\u2019t know what it means. We don\u2019t think it would be helpful to go into the particulars when so much remains unclear.\u201d He looked at the mayor as if to intimidate the questions out of her. \u201cMay I?\u201d he asked, the way he asked Tam if he could finish off the bread and honey at the caf\u00e9.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOf course,\u201d said the mayor. \u201cPlease. And thank you for sharing your knowledge with us.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBanur grunted vaguely.\n<\/p>\n \nAn ending,<\/em> thought Tam, with nothing after.<\/em> There was nothing unclear about that.\n<\/p>\n \nA curtain should have fallen. Everything should have stopped and given them all time to wrestle with the idea. But the ritual wasn\u2019t over yet, there was plenty to clean up and very specific ways to do it. They were a captive audience, stunned and silent as Banur finished his butchering, cut something out, ate it, unfolded a black sheet and threw it over the carcass.\n<\/p>\n \nIt was only Banur\u2019s continued presence, looking out from the shadows of another world, that kept them all docile. This was the fallen curtain, the merciful black hush between the two halves: time and the end of time. Tam should have been thinking of a hundred things\u2013-Kaeta? their child?\u2013-but all he could think was that Banur had shown him up yet again, in telling frankly such an awful truth when Minister Paro couldn\u2019t even admit the train would be late.\n<\/p>\n \n \nTam\u2019s hand twitched as the meeting droned on; he didn\u2019t need to take the minutes now that another junior ministerial assistant had been hauled up to replace Countess Cullyan, who\u2019d run off to one of her holiday homes in the mountains. Tam wasn\u2019t sure why they\u2019d gone for someone so inexperienced; they\u2019d had plenty of opportunity to find someone more impressive.\n<\/p>\n \nMinister Gatia, holding on with both hands to the headship of the project, said something in a nodding tone of voice and Tam nodded obediently to show he was listening.\n<\/p>\n \nMaybe everyone else had better things to do now that the world was ending. It explained why no one had ever told Tam off for fleeing during the earthquake\u2013-at least he\u2019d come back.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cRight,\u201d said Minister Gatia. \u201cLet\u2019s put it to a vote.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam raised his hand for either yes or no, he wasn\u2019t sure.\n<\/p>\n \nAt least if they were working it wouldn\u2019t be so bad,<\/em> he thought. It would be something to concentrate on.\n<\/p>\n \nHe felt like two people, or half a person. Everything was pointless because the world was ending and everything was vitally important because the world had to be right for the birth of their child, who wasn\u2019t going to wait. Tam knew that the two things were incompatible, but he couldn\u2019t get them in the same place to get a good look at them.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAny objections?\u201d said Minister Gatia.\n<\/p>\n \nTam shook his head blankly with the others.\n<\/p>\n \n \nTam had been avoiding Banur since the reading at the People\u2019s Palace, but only physically. He spent a lot of his time talking to an imaginary Banur, blaming him for hiding such a catastrophe, arguing, begging him for more information or to admit that they were wrong. Demanding some kind of apology, some reparations for his child. Like the commoners at the People\u2019s Palace.\n<\/p>\n \nEven his imaginary Banur rolled his eyes, sighed, said, \u201cReally, Tam,\u201d at all of his complaints, and eventually Tam stopped bothering. What could they have done differently if the world was so determined to end?\n<\/p>\n \nAs for whether he would dare talk to the real Banur like this, Tam absolved himself of all responsibility by promising himself that although he wouldn\u2019t invite Banur out for their normal drinks, he\u2019d go if Banur invited him.\n<\/p>\n \nHe heard nothing until, on one of his days off, Kaeta came running into the room he was painting.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cInterpreting\u2019s gone,\u201d she said.\n<\/p>\n \nTam paused with the brush still pressed against the wall, taking in her panicked eyes, her wild panting. \u201cGone where?\u201d he asked stupidly.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBurned to the ground,\u201d said Kaeta.\n<\/p>\n \nAnother Tam woke up. \u201cHow?\u201d he asked.\n<\/p>\n \nKaeta shook her head. \u201cI don\u2019t- no one really knows. They said, something like lightning? I don\u2019t know, something hit it and then it was just gone, just fire.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWas anyone-?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nKaeta still shook her head, eyes dry but glazed. \u201cEveryone. They were all inside.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nPaint was dripping down the wall in fat white stripes that Tam brushed neatly flat even as the other Tam said, \u201cI need to see it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nKaeta nodded and made a quick, nervous move to go.\n<\/p>\n \nHe put the brush down with unnatural calm.\n<\/p>\n \nEven from outside his house Tam could see a pillar of black smoke pointing straight up in the windless, cloudless sky. He\u2019d always been terrible at interpreting signs, but there was something unwholesome about it.\n<\/p>\n \nOh, very astute, Tammalin. What next, do you think it could signify some great imminent heat?<\/em>\n<\/p>\n \nThere was no sign of lightning and none of the unhealthy quality of light that had accompanied the comet showers. That was a sign in itself, surely, and he\u2019d have to ask\u2013but of course he couldn\u2019t now.\n<\/p>\n \nGetting to the Ministry of Interpreting was harder than running the length of the city to Kaeta after the earthquake. There wasn\u2019t the same urgency driving him on, no primal fear at his back. The pull of morbid curiosity was lesser, and the other Tam kept whispering, \u201dLet\u2019s go back, we don\u2019t have to see.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nToo late. There it was.\n<\/p>\n \nThe tower of Interpreting was shaped in smoke now. Tam had to push his way through onlookers to see that the destruction, clearly delineated in straight lines of soot, took in the whole of the Interpreting grounds. Not a goat pasture or sheep pen remained. Not a smithy where the ceremonial blades were forged, or a temple where they were blessed. Every paving tile bearing the violet eye of Interpreting was gone, though the paving tiles bearing the Ferthian wave and gull showed only normal wear and tear; not even stained, not even cracked.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d said Kaeta, and Tam jumped, remembering she was there. \u201cYour friend\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHe was there,\u201d said Tam. Interpreting all lived onsite, worked in the convenient energies created by the Ministry\u2019s architecture and location, lived frugally off the governmental stipend. Where else would Banur have been? Tam hadn\u2019t invited him out.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d said Kaeta faintly, watching the smoke rise. It was so thick that Tam couldn\u2019t even see if the Ministry was still burning.\n<\/p>\n \nHe\u2019d needed Banur to tutor him right up to the bare minimum marks to pass his bare minimum classes in Interpreting. He imagined too many possibilities, linking up this and that to create a plausible narrative, and then doing the same a dozen more times.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLovely stories,\u201d Banur would say, exasperated, \u201cbut which is the right one?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHe never knew.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat\u2019s because you don\u2019t understand<\/em> anything. You pick up these fragments and go charging off to make it mean what you think it should mean, or what you want it to mean, or you think, oh, wouldn\u2019t it be clever if it meant this?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam did do that. He\u2019d confessed to Banur once over too much beer that he did, and he didn\u2019t appreciate having it thrown in his face like this.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019s a language, Tam, like any other. You have to let it tell you what it means without railroading it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHe knew that. He just couldn\u2019t understand it the way he could understand a language spoken and created by flesh and blood people. There were ways of telling what people meant, but you couldn\u2019t do that with the powers.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWell then, practise. Look at this again. What does the colour of the liver tell you? Try to focus on it in the context of the other details.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHow long had you known him for?\u201d asked Kaeta, making time and space whirl around Tam again.\n<\/p>\n \nHe lurched over the tiles, and Kaeta\u2019s arms were quickly around him.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m sorry. Let\u2019s go home. It was a bad idea to come out here.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou have to understand it,\u201d Banur had said.\n<\/p>\n \nTam didn\u2019t understand any of this. It was meaningless, no signs to be read here at all. Just ordinary bones thrown haphazardly across the floor.\n<\/p>\n \n \nTam picked his way through frogs on his way to the market square where he was supposed to meet Kaeta. A couple hopped aimlessly out of his way and over the jagged cracks in the tiles left by the earthquake, and at least they\u2019d stopped raining, apart from the few which dropped from the stall awnings where they\u2019d landed.\n<\/p>\n \nHe\u2019d have to come up with a way to clear the tracks of rains of frogs and fish for Ferthian Two. Something on the trains themselves, perhaps, to sweep them off and out of the way? Or could they charm the wheels? And that was only the solid objects\u2013-there had been that awful crash in Lindolm caused by blood-slick rails\u2013-\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cTam, over here!\u201d Kaeta waved at him from a potter\u2019s stall, putting down a vase.\n<\/p>\n \nTam homed in on her, trying to avoid the frogs, both alive and squashed by feet and wheels. He didn\u2019t want to slip. What a terrible, ignoble end that would be.\n<\/p>\n \nKaeta gave him the basket when he reached her, already heavy with vegetables. \u201cHere, don\u2019t make your poor pregnant wife carry heavy things. Come on, we have to get going before everyone packs up.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIs your carpenter here?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYep, already checked. I knew you\u2019d be late\u201d She glanced at him, and took his arm. \u201cAnd no wonder, if you came at that pace. What\u2019s wrong?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam avoided another froggy splat, disturbing the flies that had already settled in for the feast. It always seemed strange that the frogs and fish from omen rains weren\u2019t mystical beings or illusions, but alive, and when they died they left ordinary corpses that attracted flies and needed cleaning up. \u201cI just don\u2019t want to slip.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nKaeta snorted. \u201cWho slips on frogs?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMinister Gatia did,\u201d Tam blurted, without even pausing to wonder whether it would be bad luck to tell Kaeta such things.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cFreak accident, they say,\u201d said Tam. He himself wasn\u2019t sure there were such things as accidents anymore.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIs she-?\u201d Kaeta began, but then she saw Tam shaking his head, and the look on his face. \u201cHow awful.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam nodded. They\u2019d said at the meeting that it had been sudden, and she probably hadn\u2019t even known what was happening. Didn\u2019t that make it worse, though?<\/em> he thought. Dying wouldn\u2019t be pleasant, but he thought it would at least be better to know.\n<\/p>\n \nHad Banur known? Had the signs warned them?\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThere he is,\u201d said Kaeta. \u201cCome on.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam followed her, nudging frogs out of the way with his toes. He let Kaeta haggle with the carpenter for the crib, let her joke with him about Tam\u2019s woeful woodworking skills and give him all the specifications she\u2019d worked out in another life, with another Tam.\n<\/p>\n \nShe nudged him. \u201cMoney?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHm?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe have to pay, Tam,\u201d said Kaeta. \u201cHe\u2019s not going to make it for us out of the goodness of his heart.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOkay. Right. Sorry.\u201d He fumbled in the basket, through roots and fruits, for the purse.\n<\/p>\n \nKaeta paid the deposit, charming to the last, and they turned for home. \u201cSo what happens now?\u201d she asked. \u201cWithout Minister Gatia, who\u2019ll take over the project?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot just her. Paro\u2019s gone too.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMinister Paro?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot anymore,\u201d said Tam dully. \u201cHe ran off and won\u2019t be coming back. They stripped him of his title today.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019d never have thought him the type.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNeither did anyone else.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHe seemed so nice,\u201d said Kaeta. \u201cAll those times he had us over for tea. He was always great fun.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHe was very good at being great fun,\u201d said Tam.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThen what happens with the committee? They were already having enough trouble replacing people.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nA frog dropped into the basket and Tam almost flung it away in a panic. Kaeta yelped with shock and then laughter, steadied him, held the basket\u2019s contents safe. She picked up the little blue-green frog and threw it lightly into the gutter like an amphibious dove.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cTam, you have to tell me what\u2019s wrong,\u201d she said, the ghost of a smile still on her face. \u201cIs it the interpretation? The one about the end of everything?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhy would you say that?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cPeople do sometimes come to the library and ask for things, you know. Nowadays usually prophecy theory and Cogen\u2019s doomsday writings. It\u2019s on a lot of people\u2019s minds.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI was there,\u201d said Tam. \u201cI had to stand and look optimistic for a Ferthian Two report, and he came in, and\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWho?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMy old school friend. He came in and they sort of winkled it out of him. He didn\u2019t want to talk about it. He never wanted to talk about work.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI didn\u2019t know it was your friend who made the interpretation,\u201d said Kaeta gently. She took the basket from Tam\u2019s arm and set it on the ground. \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam pulled her close to him, nose in her hair. \u201cI don\u2019t know what to do. I feel like I should be doing something, but every day I get up and go to work and it all just keeps on going.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt keeps on going whether we want it to or not, believe me. I know,\u201d said Kaeta, patting her stomach.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh, hell,\u201d he said. \u201cI suppose you do.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe look<\/em> she gave him.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat was the exact prophecy?\u201d she asked, graciously putting it aside. \u201cWhat were the words? No one seems to know.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam shrugged. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t a formal prediction. The mayor prodded for details. He didn\u2019t want to give them. Maybe this, maybe that. No real information one way or the other. He didn\u2019t speak with the voice of the powers, just gave a kind of summary. Nothing that could be recorded in good faith.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI wonder why. Maybe they didn\u2019t know.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHe said the Ministry didn\u2019t think it prudent to share it, so they must have known something.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNot prudent,\u201d mused Kaeta. She was getting into the mystery of it, chewing it over. Tam wished she wouldn\u2019t.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnd they were right, weren\u2019t they?\u201d he said. \u201cOnce the interpretation got out, even as vague as that\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201c\u2026the tower was burned? Who made that connection?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo one,\u201d said Tam, frustrated. \u201cThere\u2019s no one left to<\/em> make it, is there? But you have to admit, the way it looks\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBanur always told him to read the signs instead of coming up with his own stories, but it was too late for all that now. This was the only interpretation he could think of, however he looked at it. Interpreting wasn\u2019t supposed to tell them, and they had\u2013-Banur had\u2013-and they had been punished for it.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019ll have a look in the library tomorrow,\u201d said Kaeta. \u201cSee if I can dig anything up.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cTry not to dig too deep.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOf course, Tam.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHe didn\u2019t believe her, but he appreciated her pretending. He prayed for dead ends and missing sources, misshelved scrolls and incorrect references. Anything to keep her away from the murderous truth. He imagined it as a core of light, blinding white, annihilating, consuming anyone who touched it. A ferocious purity.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLet\u2019s get home,\u201d said Kaeta. \u201cPut the tea on. I\u2019m starving.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n \n\u201cWhat does the committee think?\u201d asked Lady Brira, the newest committee chair. More than half of the members now had been grabbed from the archives and coffee kettles and government exam halls, all wide-eyed and bemused. Tam felt like an old hand.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWith or without?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nNot quite the kind of old hand who could get away with openly falling asleep in the meeting hall, but surely that would come soon enough.\n<\/p>\n \nLady Brira held a scroll flat on the table with carved jade weights. The two versions of the prospective logo for the Ferthian Two line stared up at the ceiling. \u201cWell?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam felt like he should probably say something, being such an old hand, but he just couldn\u2019t bring himself to care. He sat placid as the others and eventually one of the newbies spoke up.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI, er, think that the one with the outlines looks quite, erm, bold.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nCautious nodding followed this statement.\n<\/p>\n \nLady Brira studied the two logos again. \u201cI see what you mean,\u201d she said. \u201cBut the one without the outlines looks more dynamic to me. It gives an impression of speed. Don\u2019t you think?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh, yeah, it does actually. I hadn\u2019t thought of that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nLady Brira looked almost disappointed at the lack of argument. \u201cThen we agree that both have their merits, but which is better?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIf you like the one without the outline then that\u2019s fine with me,\u201d said the newbie, and the others gathered behind him with meek, submissive murmurs, adopting him as their leader.\n<\/p>\n \nLady Brira looked ready to chew the table to splinters. \u201cYes, but what do you<\/em> think?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI think they both have merits,\u201d said the newbie.\n<\/p>\n \nLady Brira took a deep breath, then rapped out, \u201cTammalin, you\u2019re uncharacteristically quiet. What\u2019s your opinion?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nBlinking away his shock, Tam glanced at the logos. They were both very nicely drawn. \u201cI think it doesn\u2019t matter,\u201d he said. \u201cI think we have more important things to be getting on with.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOf course we have more important things to do,\u201d snapped Lady Brira. \u201cBut it has to be done, and the artist paid, so we will do it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe was right, and at least she sounded as resentful as he felt, so he said, \u201cWithout, then. It looks modern and dynamic, as you said, and uses less ink.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cObjections?\u201d Lady Brira asked the rest of the committee. No one spoke up, though the newbie looked disappointed to have chosen the wrong answer. \u201cGood.\u201d She slapped the tabletop. \u201cNext is the station names.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nTam closed his eyes. Most of the stations were little more than posts with hand-painted signs proclaiming the imminent arrival of a new train station. The paint was sun-faded and peeling, graffiti scrawled in the blank spaces, and even that overlaid with palimpsests of tags on tags. Naming these useless disconnected structures was a bigger waste of time than choosing the logo, and Banur wouldn\u2019t even be at the caf\u00e9 to tell all about it.\n<\/p>\n \nHe would have enjoyed hearing about all this. A certain baron was offering money to the cause on the condition that he get a station named after him. The question was finding a station to bear his unpopular name where the locals wouldn\u2019t revolt when they heard the news.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cHave we considered begging someone more popular for money instead?\u201d asked Tam. \u201cThe Leviathan of Harske, perhaps?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat might be quite fun, actually,\u201d said a junior assistant. \u201cNaming a station after the Leviathan.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWell, I\u2019m glad we\u2019re all having fun,\u201d said Lady Brira icily. \u201cBut if we could address the issue at hand before chasing squirrels then I\u2019d be most grateful.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo one will be happy with a Baron Roulevant train station near them,\u201d said Tam.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m not asking anyone to be happy with it,\u201d said Lady Brira. \u201cI\u2019m asking for us to please just choose one to bear the dubious honour so we can get on with what\u2019s important.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThen it doesn\u2019t make a difference,\u201d said Tam. \u201cWe may as well roll the bones and ask them.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019d be most obliged if you could fetch us a set, then,\u201d said Lady Brira.\n<\/p>\n \nGone too far, Tam,<\/em> he thought, and sat speechless until it was clear she really meant him to leave. \u201cOf course,\u201d he said, the words sticking. Embarrassment coated him like needles. Every move he made was too loud and the new committee members all watched him open-mouthed. He pretended he was Banur and didn\u2019t care.\n<\/p>\n \nEven the warm corridor felt refreshing after the meeting hall. Tam paused at one of the tall windows overlooking the city and gave himself a moment to look out over the sea. Did she really mean for him to get a set of bones? Or was she telling him to leave the meeting in disgrace?\n<\/p>\n \nIt wasn\u2019t that he didn\u2019t like Lady Brira-\u2013he thought she was doing grudgingly well with the mess she\u2019d inherited, and really they were on the same side. But what a waste of time and effort, when they could be sorting out the disastrous failures to pay the steelworkers for the rails that had been damaged in the earthquake and which needed replacing. They\u2019d have to halt the whole project and get the workers paid, he thought, and the longer they went without doing it, the more inevitable it became that they\u2019d have to.\n<\/p>\n \nThink, then,<\/em> he told himself. Where would be good to put the baron\u2019s name?<\/em>\n<\/p>\n \nWhen he went back into the meeting hall, calmer and ready to face the rest of the banalities they had to wade through before the real work began, he had a set of workable propositions.\n<\/p>\n \nLady Brira glared at him when he entered.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he said. \u201cI have some ideas about the station names, if it would be helpful.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe let him squirm for a bit, but Tam didn\u2019t squirm.\n<\/p>\n \nI came back\u00b8<\/em>he thought. Of all of them, I\u2019m the only one who came back, and you know it.<\/em>\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSit,\u201d said Lady Brira. \u201cThese ideas of yours had better be good.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n \nThe higher above the city Tam got, the more he thought of Kaeta making her rounds in the great underground library complex, in the old fortress defences filled with slowly decaying scrolls and maps. Even the taller towers and spires rose from windblown craggy plains from up here, the rest of the city hidden completely, but she was there, tunnelling somewhere through the hills.\n<\/p>\n \nThe sea looked blue as glass. Strange to see it from so far away, no waves visible or audible, like a flat, dead thing. He wanted to tell someone how strange it was, make them understand the difference between the sea from Ferth and the sea from everywhere else, how it still contained all of that movement and multitudes, filth and beauty, horror and mystery. He didn\u2019t know what exactly he wanted to say, something about how perception didn\u2019t affect reality, but not quite. It kept slipping away from him.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat are we even supposed to be looking for?\u201d asked Jensa, the head surveyor.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe\u2019re surveying for a line extension,\u201d said Tam.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI know that,\u201d said Jensa, \u201cbut why?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBecause Lady Brira wants me to stay away from her meetings for a while,\u201d said Tam.\n<\/p>\n \nHe was leaving most of the actual surveying to the experts. He was just there to give it a little governmental presence, and was determined to enjoy the experience. There was plenty to enjoy. The ache in his legs, the breezes scented with the summer flowers and sea. The view was good. He was left with his thoughts.\n<\/p>\n \nGrasshoppers creaked and shrilled from the grass and bushes. Butterflies shivered and blew away from his footsteps. He turned and looked at the foothills spread out below him, Ferth clinging to the cliff above the sea. All of the boats were so far away that they looked frozen in place. Frozen in time perhaps, and wasn\u2019t that a nice thought?\n<\/p>\n \nA slim white split opened in the sea.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLook at that,\u201d he said.\n<\/p>\n \nA couple of the surveyors looked up from their conversation over the maps, and then went back to it.\n<\/p>\n \nThe white line grew wider and longer, the sea before it almost taking on new hues, darkness and depth, as though that white foam gave it more texture. Even as he watched it grew, extending past a boat, which rose visibly and fell again.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019s moving,\u201d he said in wonder.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMinister, please,\u201d said one of the surveyors, polite but exasperated, and Tam said, \u201cI\u2019m not a minister, actually,\u201d and Jensa said, \u201cHoly fucking hell, powers have mercy on us all.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nIt took Tam a moment to process what had been said, and another to work out what he was looking at. The wave came closer, grew wider, like teeth bared. \u201cWhat do we do?\u201d he asked, and no one answered.\n<\/p>\n \nIt took forever to approach, and the surveying team stopped being a surveying team and waited on the hill to see what they would become. No one spoke. They\u2019d know by now, <\/em>thought Tam. They\u2019d be able to see it coming, the way Minister Gatia hadn\u2019t. Was this really better?<\/em>\n<\/p>\n \nHe could see it gaining height now.\n<\/p>\n \nHe hoped the ancient city defences would hold against the sea, the oldest of Ferth\u2019s invaders. Stay put, Kaeta, <\/em>he thought.\n<\/p>\n \nThe wave moved smoothly, slowly, unstoppably. A shadow had begun to darken the lower buildings of Ferth.\n<\/p>\n \nMaybe this was it.\n<\/p>\n \nHe didn\u2019t know where the thought came from, but it took root. Maybe this was it. An ending, Banur had said. A beginning. Just outlast this and you\u2019ll be free to begin again.\n<\/p>\n \nThe towers dipped silently below the crest of the ground, offering no resistance to the wave.\n<\/p>\n \n \nIt took days for the water to fully recede from the remains of Ferth. The old maps, all destroyed now anyway, were useless. There were no more streets, only the trails and tracks Tam himself had worn through building foundation and broken walls, where he\u2019d managed to heave aside splinters of logs and pillars and chunks of marble with the mosaic still attached.\n<\/p>\n \nTam went to work.\n<\/p>\n \nThe towers and People\u2019s Palace were gone, scoured from the face of the city, but he\u2019d found a corner that was intact enough, salt-crusted and with all of the broken furniture pushed to the walls except for the parts he needed to prop up the table top. His work so far was still there, spread out on the gritty wood, and he shooed swallows off the windowsill and away from the stitched-together fragments of scavenged scrolls. Pens hadn\u2019t been hard to find, but the ink had taken a huge search. It was precious. He had to be careful how he used it, and hadn\u2019t even begun to think about how he\u2019d replace it.\n<\/p>\n \nThe scroll, held flat by shards of stone and mirror, showed sketches of train carriages and engines, and a map of the city not as it had been, but as it could be, with the Ferthian Two line mapped through it, elegant and efficient. The rebuilding would begin now. The ending. The beginning.\n<\/p>\n \nSomewhere they were digging through to the library archives in the hopes that the great gates had been shut in time. They might find Kaeta and the librarians there, living ancient underground lives while they awaited rescue.\n<\/p>\n \nThe stars burned above him where the roof should have been. Tam watched them, filled his eyes with points of light while he stretched his cramped hands. It had been a long time since his scribing days, and he\u2019d lost his stamina.\n<\/p>\n \nOne star burned brighter than the others and began to drift. It moved slowly at first and then faster, leaving a fiery streak behind it. By the time it burned out, other stars were already growing and reddening in their turn, swelling like fiery berries.\n<\/p>\n \nTam bent back to his paper and added another train station, the perfect distance from where his house would be when Ferth was rebuilt. When there were no more stars, he lit a lamp.\n<\/p>\n Danielle Jorgenson-Murray is a videogame translator from the North East of England, currently living in Frankfurt, Germany. Her short fiction can be found in the Cabinet of Heed and Dear Damsels, and she can usually be found wandering in urban wildernesses.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Tam was just getting to the good part when, behind him, Kaeta said, \u201cDon\u2019t move.\u201d His eyes unfocused from the page. \u201cWhat?\u201d he said cautiously. \u201cYou\u2019ve got something\u2026\u201d \u201cWhat?\u201d \u201cIt looks like a bee.\u201d Something moved on his bare shoulder. Gentle insect feet. He could feel the brush of its fur, the weightless warmth of …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":107064,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-137854","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137854","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/107064"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=137854"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137854\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":137858,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137854\/revisions\/137858"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=137854"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=137854"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=137854"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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