Meanwhile (in a sense)…

  Elsewhere…

  The sea

  Not far from the coast of New Thrimp

  A world as yet unnamed

  -Saskia-

  The freed prisoners huddled around Igor, fully awake. Igor was speaking in a harsh whisper, wary of the danger of being heard by the Polity above.

  ‘You were all in that prison. That means none of you pays your tribute, which means none of you likes the damn Polity, so we’ve all got something in common right from the start. And here’s another thing we’ve got in common: I reckon we probably all knew people who got taken away on these ships, so we all know that the ships come back and the people don’t. Which means we’re all cacking ourselves thinking we’re all being taken to our deaths. So there’s two things. And here’s another: we all want to get ourselves out of this little pickle.’

  Saskia could feel the faint tingle of Igor’s urge at the base of her spine; he was using it, but nowhere near as powerfully as she would have expected. It seemed he was trying to persuade them with words, using the Urge as a subtle encouragement, rather than overwhelming them with it from the start. It was so faint she had barely noticed it; if he kept it at this level and slowly built it up, the rest of them probably wouldn’t even realise what he was doing.

  ‘So, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna bust out of this stinking hole. We’re gonna go up there, and we’re gonna kill ‘em. All of ‘em. We’re gonna take the ship.

  ‘Oh, shit,’ said a frightened voice. ‘Ohhh shit oh shit oh shit. You idiots.’

  ‘Are you out of your mind?’

  ‘Count me out,’ said a woman who had earlier introduced herself as Dhyani. ‘I’m not fighting them. I’ve seen what happens. Too many times.’

  ‘Me too. Get killed by yourself,’ added another.

  ‘I’ve got kids.’

  That was how anyone would react to the suggestion of attacking the Polity. Saskia didn’t blame them. Now he would have to use his Urge. She shuddered in anticipation…

  But for some reason, he didn’t. He kept it low, though his voice took on a new intensity.

  ‘Shut up. Listen. We’re gonna kill ‘em, and we’re gonna sail this ship to wherever it is they’ve been taking people, find out what’s there, report it back home using the special communicative capabilities of my mate Bill over there, and then we’re gonna destroy it.’

  As earnest as he sounded, even Saskia wasn’t convinced. Huddled here in the cold, stinking darkness while their captors laughed above them, it was clear where the power lay. The idea of going up to fight them seemed absurd, and utterly suicidal. She wanted him to use the Urge to convince her, never mind the prisoners. ‘Smash it, burn it, sink it, kill it, blow it up, whatever,’ he continued, seemingly oblivious to the inefficacy of his words. ‘And make sure they can’t carry on doing whatever it is they’re doing any more.’

  ‘Oh, is that it?’ Dhyani scoffed. ‘Nice plan, champ. Kill all the Polity, steal their ship, destroy whatever operation they’re running. Easy. Then what? Go back home? They’ll kill us on sight, you idiot!’

  ‘Then, my friend, you’re not a prisoner, you’re not dead, and you’ve got a great big boat with legs and a whole world to explore. Far better chance than what you had this morning.’

  ‘Like I said,’ she replied. ‘Ive got kids.’

  ‘You think you’re gonna see your kids again?’ he growled. ‘Let me tell you somethin’ you don’t know. These ships, they come back a few days after they go. I know ‘cos I ain’t been in prison long. I’ve been out there, watching them. And when they come back, they don’t come back empty. Didn’t know that, did you? That hold that was full of human beings when it went out, it comes back full. Stuffed full. So full you can see the ship riding lower in the water. So full them legs dip in up to their knees. You know what’s in it? Eh? ’

  The gaze of a hundred wide eyes fixed on him.

  ‘Nectar,’ he whispered.

  He pointed upwards, towards the thick bridge of skin-wrapped flesh that stretched across the top of the hold, connecting the two gargantuan Goblin legs paddling the ship. Each thigh was bolted to the hull on the inside, where it would have joined the pelvis on a human body, by a pair of huge crossbeams that passed through the flesh and bone, holding it in place. The bridge that connected the two legs was nothing but a bundle of nerves, Saskia suspected, wrapped in skin and pinned to the ceiling, connecting the two legs to keep them synchronised. It also extended up through a hole in the ceiling, probably to a control point on deck to allow a controller to manipulate both legs at once.

  From the centre of the nerve-bridge dangled a shiny, wet little tube. It was a pallid shade of pink and full of little kinks and bends. It looked like it should be inside, not outside the body. It extended down into an enormous barrel that was suspended from the ceiling-beams by a rope and a hook, so that it wouldn’t spill when the ship lurched.

  ‘That,’ said Igor, indicating the barrel. ‘Nectar. Look at that barrel. That’s enough to power half the damn city for a day. Do you have any idea how much nectar it takes to run a Goblin the size of those legs? Course you don’t. There ain’t any other Goblins that big, not that you know about anyway. I’ll tell you how much it takes. That bloody much.’ He waved his finger again at the huge barrel, big enough to comfortably fit three men inside. ‘Absolutely bloody loads of it. So much it should be impossible to run it, with the amount of Nectar the city produces. Where do you think they’re getting it from? An’ you know what else? They’re making more massive Goblins, so damn big they can’t hide ‘em inside the Manse. We been spying on ‘em over the walls. They’ve got things that we don’t even know what they are, things you’d take one look at and wet yourself, nightmare mega-Goblins the size of a house. And now, somehow, by taking people away on ships and doing whatever it is they’re doing to ‘em, they’re getting the nectar to run ‘em. Nectar they’re producing, using humans, in secret somewhere.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Just think about that. They normally make the nectar out of plants and rubbish. There’s not much energy in plants and rubbish. They do it as efficiently as they can, but there’s a limit. You can’t get more energy out than you put in. Now, you know what’s full of energy? People. Animals. If you could chuck living things in instead of plants and rubbish, you’d get tons of the stuff out, tons and tons and tons. But you can’t do it. Robert Coddington-Boyle himself made a rule against it. The whole system shuts itself down if even an insect gets in. And now they’ve damn near chopped down all the trees, they’re running out of raw materials to make more.

  Now, think about it. They produce all the Goblins and they produce the nectar that runs them. If the nectar dries up, their whole stranglehold on the economy breaks. Overnight. You know the Polity. You know what they’re like. You think they’re gonna just sit and go “ho-hum, guess that’s our limit then, better find a new source of income, hey shall we start knitting blankets”?

  No.

  If they found a way to turn people into nectar, you think they wouldn’t do it?’

  No one spoke.

  ‘And on top of that, I promise you, whatever they’re planning to use them giant Goblins is for, it ain’t gonna do you or your families any favours.

  So, two questions: one, why do they keep taking prisoners out there and bringing back Nectar instead of people? And two, why are they doing it somewhere miles away where no one else can see what they’re up to?’

  He swept his gaze over the prisoners, inviting a response.

  ‘Far as I’m concerned it ain’t hard to put two and two together and come up with oh shit. Which is what I’m telling you. You need to understand where you are right now. You ain’t on holiday. You ain’t going off on a nice adventure. You’re on your way to get ground up and turned into Goblin juice. If we sit here and do nothing, if we don’t go up there and kill that lot, we’re all dead.’

  There was a long moment while the prisoners considered his words. Then they began to ask questions. They wanted to know who Igor was, and how he knew all this. They wanted to know why they should trust him. They wanted to know why he would risk his life by deliberately stowing away on a ship taking people to their deaths. They asked question after questions after question and still, he didn’t unleash the force of his Urge.

  Instead, to Saskia’s growing frustration, he explained the entire plot.

  He explained how he and his group of renegades had been planning this for months. How they had monitored the Polity’s comings and goings, learned all that they could and worked out the rest, and met in secret to formulate a plot. How they—he, Saskia and Billy—had gotten themselves arrested and thrown in jail as a way of planting themselves on the ship. About Holly and Marco sneaking on board using their innate ability to go unseen, and hiding above them now, playing their parts in the deception that would trick the Polity into letting their guard down. About Saskia’s preparations with the antidote and the boneblades, and the endless practice cutting herself free from ropes. They murmured their thanks to her for that; uncertain as they were of their current position, none of them would rather be lying bound and unconscious on the filthy floor.

  ‘Hang on,’ Dhyani piped up again. Saskia was beginning to take a particular dislike to her. ‘So this girl Holly sold the other guy—what was his name?’

  ‘Marco.’

  ‘She’s sold Marco out to the Polity just to make them think they’ve foiled the plot and start celebrating?’

  Igor nodded grimly. Saskia lowered her eyes; this was the part of the plan that none of them was comfortable with. ‘We need them messed up on Lilymilk,’ Igor said, heavily, raising his finger to indicate the sounds of debauchery coming from above. ‘Need their guard down. It makes all the difference.’

  ‘Wh- How did you even know they’d start drinking?’

  ‘You know what they’re like. They’d probably have got bored and started anyway. This was just a way to make sure.’

  ‘And Marco’s okay with this?? They’ll kill him!’

  Igor’s eyes met Saskia’s. They both looked away.

  It was Billy who spoke up: ‘We never told him.’

  A hundred eyes, already narrowed in suspicion, now widened in disbelief.

  The truth was that none of them—not Saskia, Igor, Billy, and especialyl not Holly—was happy with the deception of Marco. It was heartless. Marco was a waste of space, but lying to his face and throwing him to the Polity like a piece of meat was a violation of basic human morality that none of them could stomach.

  But Ken had insisted there was no other way to get the hatch open. No other way to ensure they could win the ship. Ken had told them to trust him, and because he was Ken, they had.

  ‘Yeah. We did it. We sacrificed him,’ Billy continued. ‘We lied to him. We told him he and Holly were going to blow up the ship, sink it miles off the coast and go out in a blaze of glory. Gave him a real bomb and everything, except I put a stopper in it so he couldn’t actually set it off. He was… look, we know, alright? We know it’s bad. And I know this doesn’t make it okay, but for what it’s worth, his life wasn’t going well. He’s been smoking and diving way too much, for way too long, and he was never going to come back out of it. He had maybe a few months left, and he knew it. He was… he was reconciled with the idea of dying for the cause.’

  The prisoners murmured to one another, their expressions grim. They were even less likely to follow him now. What was he doing? He was losing them! Why wasn’t he using his Urge? She glared at him.

  ‘So now you know how serious this is,’ he said. ‘One man is dead. Many more are going to die, very soon. Either way, you need to understand; this is life or death. Us or them.’

  ‘You just threw a man to his death,’ Dhyani said. ‘And now you want us to trust you?’

  ‘Um,’ said Saskia. There was no point hiding it; they’d find out as soon as they went up, and that wouldn’t be the time for surprises. ‘Actually… While you were all asleep, I heard their leader talking. They haven’t actually killed him.’

  Igor looked up in alarm. ‘What?’

  ‘They didn’t kill him. We thought they would, but… As far as I can tell they’ve tied him up and… they’re planning to make an example of him when they get him back to town. I think she was talking about a… um,’

  ‘A what, Saskia?’ Igor’s voice was urgent.

  ‘A public execution.’

  ‘We’re not gonna let that happen,’ he replied immediately, but it was too late.

  ‘You think I’m gonna let them do that to me?’

  ‘In front of my kids?’

  ‘That’s what happens. That’s what you get if you attack the Polity.’

  ‘Listen. Everybody listen,’ hissed Dhyani, and Saskia noted with irritation that the prisoners all stopped and paid attention to her. ‘We don’t know for sure what will happen if we stay put. Maybe something bad, maybe something else. But we know exactly what will happen if we try and attack the Polity. We can’t even consider it.’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Yeah, no. I’m out.’

  ‘You nutters get yourselves executed.’

  ‘I’ll take my chances.’

  ‘Leave me out of it.’

  It was when Saskia felt herself nodding along with them that she realised. This woman, Dhyani, was Forceborn. She was using her own Urge, spreading her own doubt and fear and caution among them. Pushing them to follow her. Trying to lead.

  And Igor was still just staring at them, frowning. He must have felt what she was doing. What was he waiting for?

  The muttering increased in volume until Dhyani hissed again for silence. She looked around her at the dissenting group, then at Igor.

  ‘I think everyone’s out,’ she said shaking her head. Others nodded their agreement.

  Igor closed his eyes and shook his head in resignation.

  Finally.

  Saskia almost deflated with relief. Finally, finally, she thought, feeling the familiar sparkly tug of Igor’s Urge flare into life somewhere in the pit of her stomach. Where Dhyani’s had been like a subtle heavy weight dragging her spirits down, Igor’s was an explosion. She smiled, knowing the others would all be feeling the same thing.

  The tingling sensation zipped up her spine like and flowered, making her shudder, prickling her skin. It spread through her body—oh wow, she thought with pleasure, he’s not holding back… oh WOW—washing her own feelings away, bringing fiery, alien emotions; his. She felt what he felt, desired what he desired. Igor’s anger, his lust for vengeance, his determination, all flooded her. She raged with a burning need for righteous violence and a single-minded hatred for the Polity that she could no more resist than she could resist the need to breathe.

  This was Igor’s power.

  ‘No,’ he said slowly, and when he opened his eyes again they shone. ‘You ain’t.’

  In the darkness, a hundred eyes narrowed.