Tim Akers - Heart of Veridon

– Signed, Marcus Pitts.

“Yeah,” I said. “I imagine we do.”

“I do not think of it as dishonesty, Mr. Burn.”

We were in a carriage, too many of us for the cabin. Wilson and I stank of ash and sewage and blood. The leather seat creaked as we tried to make enough room for all of us, and our guns and knives and mistrust.

“I do. It’s nothing personal, Valentine. But all this, I have to call it dishonest.”

“Good to know it’s not personal,” Cacher spat. He had been glaring at me ever since he stepped out from behind the boss back in the basement. He had a handful of dirty looks for Wilson, too. Some history there I didn’t know.

“Quiet,” Valentine said, gave Cacher the barest nod. “Jacob, you have to understand my position. I cannot stand up against the Council and the Church. It would be open war. My organization can not have that fight.”

“You could have warned me.”

“I wasn’t sure I could. I wasn’t sure you wouldn’t tell Emily.”

“You knew about her?”

He shrugged. “I knew something wasn’t right. But I wasn’t sure.”

“Where is she, bastard?” Cacher asked, menacing me with his black, blunt shortrifle.

“Fuck off, Cach.”

“Don’t tell me to-”

“Fuck off, Cacher,” Valentine said.

“What else did you know about?” I asked. “About the Cog, and the Council? How did you find out about all of this?”

“Ah. Straight from Marcus, actually.” Valentine shrugged and tried to settle more comfortably into his bench. Cacher struggled further against the wall of the carriage. The other two thugs were up top, driving us somewhere. “I started getting messages from him two weeks before your spectacular accident. More and more desperate, the closer he got to Veridon.”

“You knew what he had?”

“Not completely. He wanted help, he was scared. Of that Angel, in retrospect, though he never specified. It was killing the expedition, one at a time. He was scared he wouldn’t make it to the city.”

“Like she wanted,” I whispered, thinking of Camilla’s plan to lure vengeance into Veridon.

“Who?”

I shook my head. “So, he wanted your help. And he tried to buy it with the Cog?”

“Yes. With knowledge of what it was, where it came from.” Valentine spread his wide, flat hands. “I couldn’t do it, obviously. Too many variables, and no idea if I could trust him.”

“So you sent me?”

“I knew when he was coming. Knew he was pursued. I wanted a man in place.”

“Me?”

He nodded.

“I’m going to get back to this, boss, because I really feel that it’s pretty important. You could have told me.”

“I didn’t know what to expect. I had no idea what you were going into. How could I warn you?”

“You could have told me to be prepared.”

“Jacob, the day I have to tell you to be prepared for trouble, that’s the day I will no longer trust you.”

I leaned back in the chair, staring off into the distance. Veridon rumbled past us through the wire webbed protective glass of the carriage.

“So what now?” I asked.

“I’ve been on the sidelines long enough. Things are precarious enough, now.” He futzed with the clasp on his cuff, unbuttoning it, adjusting the shirt sleeve and reattaching the cufflink. “I think it’s time for me to help.”

I laughed quietly, once. “You want to help? Now? All the time I spent hiding, unarmed, the Badge and Council and Church trying to kill me. You want to help now?”

He shrugged. “Too many factors, Jacob. But I’m here now. Don’t turn down an ally. You could use a friend.”

“Yeah,” I said, thoughtfully. “Yeah, I could. Okay. You want to help me?” I pushed the empty shotgun into his lap. “Let’s start by loading this gun.”

Valentine smiled. “That’s my Jacob. That’s the way.” He reached behind the seat and produced a box of shells and handed them to me. Just like Valentine, to have an extra box lying around.

I loaded the gun, one shell at a time. It held six shells, lined up down the barrel. A good gun. I couldn’t help but think of the Angel, coming down the hall as I knelt in the Manor Tomb, fumbling with the cylinder. That’s what it comes down to, sometimes. Clear action in the face of danger. Keeping your head when everyone else around you is freaking out. I loaded the gun smoothly, one shell, then the next, until the cylinder was full. I snapped the gun shut, then laid the barrel against Valentine’s chest. Cacher raised his alley piece and snarled.

Wilson’s talon tipped arms pounced forward, a sharp edge resting on Cacher’s face, his neck, below his eye. He pushed just hard enough that Cacher had to strain backwards to keep his skin intact.

“You’re going to put your gun down, son,” Wilson said, his voice low with menace and anger. Cacher complied.

“This isn’t necessary, Jacob,” Valentine said. “You can just tell me to fuck off. I would understand. Probably what I would do in your shoes.”

“You wouldn’t be in my shoes, boss. You’d hire some sucker to get the shit kicked out of him. You stopped getting your hands dirty twenty years ago.”

“On the contrary. I keep my hands quite dirty. Part of the job. But you’re right, I wouldn’t let myself get where you are. So.” He kept his clockwork face neutral, wouldn’t look at the gun. “What now?”

“I want to be clear about this. I appreciate what you’ve done for me. Took me in, watched out for me. Gave a fuck when no one else would. But I think this was one too far. I don’t want you as an enemy, Valentine. But I think I’m done with having you as a friend.”

“Not the best move, Jacob. It’s a different world, without my protection. Where would you be right now, if I hadn’t put you on that zep with Marcus? You wouldn’t have known anything was up, and the Council could have plucked you off the street without a word of trouble. You’d be dead, and you wouldn’t even know why.”

“Maybe. Would’ve saved me a hell of a lot of trouble. No, boss, this is it. Pull it over.”

He banged on the carriage roof and we pulled over. I kept my gun on Valentine as we got out. Wilson left Cacher with a healthy set of new scars. We backed into an alley, the two thugs on top watching us go. Valentine smiled and waved.

“Good luck, Jacob. And stay out of my sight for a little while.”

“I’ll probably be dead, boss. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

We slipped away. A second later the carriage started up. When it was gone we ran, keeping buildings between us and the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in, and dusk settled with the sound of distant thunder rolling down the Reine, echoing off the city’s high walls.

Someone had been in my room. No real surprise. They had torn through the rest of the city looking for me, I suppose someone along the way might have stopped in to my rented quarters up here on the Torch’, to see if I’d left anything important behind. Their mistake. I didn’t own anything important. That was the key to my life. Mobility, emotional and physical.

The bed had been taken down and cut open, scattering little curls of excelsior across the wood floor. All my drawers had been opened, the cabinets pulled apart. I didn’t keep a lot of things, but everything I kept was in a pile on the floor.

“You need a woman in your life,” Wilson said. “People shouldn’t live like this.”

“Shut up, bug,” I said. I kicked a path through the room, then locked the door. The only light was the lightning flicker coming in through the massive river-side window that took up one wall.

“You shouldn’t call me that. Bug. I thought better of you than that.”

“It’s been a shitty day. I can be unexpectedly cruel, on days like this.”