Stephen Hunt - The Court of the Air

‘Something has got this lot spooked,’ said Harry. ‘They’re hiding it, but not well enough for it to escape notice. I don’t doubt their merry monarch knows what’s going on. I’ve seen various officials of the court like old master knife-arms over there, but not King Steam. He’s a slipthinker, Oliver. He can move between bodies, control hundreds of them at the same time if he has a care to. I think he’s been playing games with me. Steammen keep on coming over to me and striking up conversations — cooks and soldiers and the like. But it’s as if they are continuing the same chat. I reckon some of them have been His Majesty.’

‘I don’t think they mean us harm. Not right away at least,’ added Harry. ‘Otherwise they could have left us back at the border to the mercy of the redcoats and the slave hunters.’

‘Can we trust them, Harry?’

‘They are Jackals’ oldest ally. I don’t pretend to understand how their minds work, but until they give us reason to suspect otherwise, I reckon it’s safe to give them the benefit of the doubt.’

A courtier approached the pair, rolling forward on a single drum-like wheel. ‘Your presence is required by King Steam.’

‘About time,’ said Harry. ‘I’ve been kicking my heels in your palace for a week.’

‘Not you, Harry softbody,’ said the courtier. ‘It is the other mammal whose presence is required.’

‘You are bleeding having a laugh, aren’t you?’ Harry protested.

‘I have my orders and they are quite explicit. I am sure no snub is intended.’

‘And I am sure none is taken,’ spat Harry. ‘Go lad, but watch yourself. King Steam was sitting on his throne when Isambard Kirkhill was pushing our monarch off his; the old steamer is as sly as a box of monkeys.’

Oliver followed the courtier deeper into the royal citadel. The steamman moved at a slow, stately pace, perhaps hoping those they passed would notice his position in the direct service of the monarch. Together they reached their destination. Oliver felt the chill as he entered the new hall; looking up he saw there was no roof. They were standing on a flat bluff carved into the side of the mountain. In the middle of the floor sat a small figure. Shorter than a grasper, it might have been an iron toy, unremarkable except for a more noticeable likeness to humanity than most of the steammen Oliver had seen. Was this King Steam, or was the guiding mind of the metal race trying the same kind of mind games that the wolftaker thought were being played against him?

‘King Steam?’ said Oliver. ‘That is to say, Your Majesty?’

The golden cross-legged figure gave the barest nod of its head. ‘Sit, Oliver softbody.’

With no chairs, Oliver followed King Steam’s lead and sat opposite him, like a child waiting for school assembly to start — although the steamman did not look like he was about to read a fable from the Circlist book.

‘You are not too cold out here, I trust?’ asked King Steam. His lips actually moved when he spoke — no voicebox.

‘I am fine at the moment — Your Highness.’

‘I like to sit and watch the na-hawks wheel over the mountains,’ said King Steam. ‘Do you think there is any truth to be revealed in their flight?’

‘The truth that comes with a clear mind, perhaps, Your Highness.’

The King nodded. ‘Spoken as one, I think, who has done much sitting and staring — as an outsider.’

‘It was something of a hobby of mine up until a few months ago,’ said Oliver. Had so little time really passed since his old life ended and this new one began?

‘You seemed surprised to see me in this body when you entered the hall.’

‘I had imagined you — I don’t know, as a mountain of machinery, colossal, billowing smoke with thousands of mu-bodies attending your components — all of them you,’ said Oliver.

‘I have worn many bodies,’ said King Steam, ‘and been both less and more than you currently see. But I have never, I think, been a mountain. What you have in mind would certainly be impressive to those not of my people. Perhaps we might pile up some old junk to resemble such a thing, and I could hide behind a curtain with a voice amplifier. I would enjoy frightening your ambassador, next time she visits. I fear my own people might laugh, though. For us, less is often more. We prefer great power to come in inconspicuous packages.’ He looked meaningfully at Oliver.

‘I am not sure I have any great powers, Your Majesty.’

‘Please, no modesty,’ said King Steam. ‘You know the reason I am fond of this body? It was one of my first. It is from an older age, ancient enough to shock your university historians if they had the means to date it. I have seen ages of ice, I have seen ages of fire. I have seen the continents change and change again. I have seen the very laws of physics evolve through phase-transformations — and outside of a few satin-swaddled leaaf users in Cassarabia, I am probably the only creature in the world to see an Observer walking the soil of Jackals and think, oh no, here we go again.’

Oliver looked away.

‘Curious isn’t the word. I wish it wasn’t me ,’ said Oliver.

‘Yes, Oliver softbody. I know about the Lady of the Lights. And a few things besides. Steelbhalah-Waldo races through the night like a frightened rabbit, the spirits of Gear-gi-ju tremble and only dare to walk the halls of our ancestors in pairs. And into all this comes a young softbody, with a gentle shove from the universe mother. Curious, do you not think?’

‘A perfectly natural reaction,’ said King Steam. ‘But it is you. To exist, every equal must have an opposite. A smile is nothing without a tear, a pleasure is nothing without a pain. Where there is life there is anti-life. We are threatened Oliver softbody, and you are what we have — well, half of what we have, perhaps.’

‘Half?’ said Oliver.

‘Light and shadow, Oliver softbody. Male and female. Take it from me; it is always best to have some redundancy in the system. You are the scheme of defence — the scheme of offence is somewhere else in Jackals. The Observers are normally subtle … but predictable.’

Oliver breathed an uncertain sigh of relief. ‘I’m not alone then?’

‘Never that, Oliver,’ said King Steam. ‘Although given your previous life of internal exile inside Jackals I can see why you would feel that way. I am with you, not least because in this matter, we sink or swim together. I just wish I knew what you are. I would feel more comfortable …’

‘I am not sure. You should talk to my friend Harry. He may have more of an idea than he is letting on.’

‘You may be right,’ said King Steam, his lips moving into an approximation of a smile. ‘But I do not trust your friend. Nothing personal, but my country is perhaps unique in being the only state on the continent that does not have a secret police. His colleagues floating in the sky, counting our gun-boxes and planning their perfect society, they make me nervous. They style themselves as shepherds, protecting the flock and slaying wolves. But the life-system needs wolves too, Oliver softbody. Wolves are agents of change, agents of evolution. Change is the only constant we can count on.’

‘As one of the sheep he has been protecting, I think I might disagree with you,’ said Oliver.

‘Well now. Your friend has been — what is the term they use? Disavowed . So is he a wolf, or is he a wolftaker? We have been giving him the benefit of the doubt. And I won’t say it has not been amusing tweaking his nose while he has been in the capital.’

‘I trust him,’ said Oliver.

‘Trust,’ said King Steam. ‘The trust of youth. Well, it is only young blood that can survive being changed by the feymist. I am sure the Observer knows what she is doing.’