This world – a phrase Slvasta had heard before, though he couldn’t think where. ‘But there will always be Fallers,’ he said. ‘The Forest sends them. We can’t do anything about that.’

Javier leaned over the table, suddenly animated. Mostly by drink, but anger played its part. ‘People came to Bienvenido on ships that flew through the Void – some even say they came from outside the Void. No matter; once we could fly like Skylords. Can you imagine that? Now we just sit here and cower as the eggs Fall on us like Uracus is taking a shit. How our ancestors must despise us! We abandoned all the marvels they had, we shrank and listened to the weasel words of men like the Captains who promised us this false shelter. What we should be doing is declaring war on the Forest. Take the battle up there, into the Void itself.’

‘People flying into space?’ Slvasta asked. ‘You’re talking about ship’s machines, and they don’t work on Bienvenido. Our ancestors came here so they could live simple lives, lives that brought fulfilment. That is the way to the Heart of the Void.’ He frowned, barely able to believe he’d just quoted such orthodoxy. It was supposed to be him who argued against the establishment’s restrictions.

‘Really? Did any of your first ancestors tell you that directly? Or was it the teachers in schools paid for by the Councils? Councils that are ruled by the Captain and all the rich families who support him and beg his patronage. We don’t know what happened three thousand years ago, not really. But does it make any sense to you that the ships would choose to come here, a world under permanent siege? Why would they do that when they had a whole universe to choose from? Got an answer for that?’

Slvasta had to shake his head and admit defeat. ‘No. Not if you put it like that.’

‘Is there another way I should put it?’

‘Hey, I’m on your side.’

‘Yes. I can see you’re kept down just like all the rest of us dumb peasants. But is it the side you’d choose? If you were allowed to choose, that is? Which you’re not.’

‘I’m doing what I can.’

Javier clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Of course you are.’

Which he actually wasn’t, but that was down to a harsh self-judgement.

‘Enough,’ Bethaneve said. ‘We’re here to enjoy ourselves. Slvasta, fancy a flutter? Javier talks way too much, but he does know his beasts. Initie’s hound might be worth it.’

‘Quite right,’ Javier said. ‘Ignore my bullshit. I apologize. Put your money on Initie. You’ll double it at least.’

‘All right then,’ Slvasta said, suddenly realizing he was genuinely enjoying himself for the first time since he’d arrived in the city. ‘If it loses, I’ll claim you are a Faller and send the Marines after you. Still think it’s going to win?’

Javier roared with laughter. ‘Put my coin on with yours. We’ll find out the hard way.’

*

‘Would you like to start with the bad news?’ Bethaneve asked. It was Saturday, a week after the night at the bait. Bethaneve had agreed to meet Slvasta for lunch, and he’d chosen Davidia’s, a fresh-fish café halfway along Captain Sanorelle’s Pier. The pier was actually the start of what the poor Captain had hoped would be a bridge across the Colbal – a folly doomed from the moment the first stanchions were sunk. The river beside the city was over three kilometres wide, with a fiercely strong current even outside the rainy season. The bridge had reached four hundred metres on five massive stone arches before the end collapsed. Scaffolding and masonry alike were washed away by a surge, taking over two hundred workers with it.

Three arches remained now, and what had been planned as the wide road and railtrack they supported was now covered by a chaotic array of wooden shacks containing fish merchants, cafés and pubs. The air was thick with smoke from the curing houses.

Slvasta grinned. ‘You’re married?’

‘No. I went down into the vault containing tax returns from Erond county. There’s nothing that matches a trader with three or more boats.’

‘Ah, well, thank you for trying.’

‘I can expand the search.’

‘To where? There are hundreds of counties.’

‘Seven hundred and fifteen, plus eighty-two governed territories waiting to be elevated to regional status; then they’ll be split into about twenty counties each.’

‘That many? I didn’t know. Well, it was a valiant try. I’ll just have to find another way of tracking him down.’

‘I didn’t like to say it, but if he is a criminal, or he’s sided with the Fallers, then he probably won’t have a tax file.’

‘You’re probably right.’

‘Of course, Javier doesn’t have a file.’

‘Now why does that not surprise me? Your friends are quite intense.’ So far he and Bethaneve had been out in the evening on three occasions, two of which had seen them ending up in a pub with Javier and Coulan. He’d enjoyed the men’s company, though he was starting to think he’d like to spend slightly less time with them and more with Bethaneve.

‘They talk a lot,’ Bethaneve said as she ate her grilled marrobeam. ‘So do a lot of people. It’s harmless.’

He examined his beer. ‘Shame.’

‘Really?’ She grinned. ‘Do you think Javier would make a good Captain?’

Slvasta smiled back and drew in an exuberant breath. ‘No!’

She laughed. ‘He’s more like you than you realize.’

‘I don’t quite see that.’

‘Of course you don’t. That big-man bluster act of his covers up a lot. He was ten or twelve, I think, when his parents were eaten by Fallers. That’s what drives his contempt for the Captain and the Councils – just like you.’

‘I didn’t know that.’

‘We all have reasons for what we do, and the way we think. You want to change the way the regiments do things because that old way nearly got you eggsumed.’

‘True, things needs shaking up and modernizing. That’s progress.’

The look she gave him was almost sad. ‘We both know that’s a pile of crud. Progress stopped on this world three thousand years ago, the day our ancestors landed here.’

‘Is that what drives you? The quest for progress?’

‘I have a friend . . .’

He was slightly worried at the way her shell tightened, allowing no shade of emotion to show. Whatever she felt, she wasn’t prepared to share. ‘Go on.’

‘Had a friend, I suppose. We were young, and we came to Varlan together. Usual stupid story: we thought a life here was rich and exciting. Which it is when you’re young. Then I learned it wasn’t, not really. It took a while for me to realize that. It took the First Officer to make me see it.’

‘Aothori?’ he asked in surprise. ‘You know him?’

‘My friend did. A landowner from the south took her to the palace one night. She didn’t want to go, but she had problems in her life.’

‘Problems?’ Slvasta queried; he didn’t like to, it was obvious that talking about this was tough for her.

‘Narnik,’ she said resentfully. ‘What else? So she wasn’t in a position to say no. When she got there, Aothori enjoyed how vulnerable she was. Thankfully he gets bored quickly, which was probably the luckiest thing that ever happened to her. Too long with him, and . . . well. You’ve heard the rumours about him?’

‘Yeah.’

‘They’re all true, and that’s not the half of it. He’s evil, Slvasta. Really, truly, evil. If they ever cut him open, I wouldn’t be surprised if he bled blue.’

‘That bad, huh?’

‘Oh Giu, yes. I want him gone. Dead even. It’s the Captaincy that allows people like him to do whatever they want, to ruin lives. They rule the world for their own pleasure and profit, and it’s wrong. The day they and all their kind are brought down will be the happiest day of my life. So now you know – that’s what drives me.’

‘You’re not alone there. And your friend? The one who knew the First Officer? What of her?’

‘Gone away somewhere,’ she said with a sad sigh. ‘I suppose you have to know at some time.’