Sea of Ghosts - Alan Campbell [9]
The recovery room plumbing had been rudely extended to reposition an array of washbasins a foot out from the wall, away from the brine-riddled stonework. The ceiling plaster along the western edge of the room had collapsed, and glassy brown contusions had appeared around the metal window frames. The surgeon washed his hands in fresh water and shook them dry. ‘I don’t suppose you recovered the arrow?’ he asked Granger.
‘It disappeared into the vault wall.’
‘Shame, shame. Skywards or seawards?’
‘A very slight inclination. It must have passed through the city in an instant.’
The surgeon nodded. ‘Heading for the stars.’ He turned back to Creedy. ‘Your eye socket will take an implant, Sergeant. I can have one made up in a couple of weeks. Nothing fancy, just clay and resin.’
‘I like the hole just fine.’ Creedy thought for a moment. ‘Maybe I can keep something useful in there . . . tobacco, ammunition.’ He laughed. ‘Would it hold a grenade?’
‘I have one you could try,’ Banks said. ‘You can have it for free, Creedy.’
The surgeon made a sound of disapproval. ‘I would not recommend that, Sergeant. Colonel, would you like me to take a look at your shoulder?’
Before Granger could reply, the door of the recovery room opened, and a young girl walked in. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, but she wore the robes of a Haurstaf cadet and carried herself with all the authority that implied. She approached the colonel and handed him a sealed envelope. ‘Sister Marks asked me to deliver this,’ she said. ‘It’s already in circulation.’
Creedy sat up.
Granger opened the envelope and read the note inside.
24/Hu-Suarin/1441
NOTICE OF WARRANT(110334)
Imperial Infiltration Unit 7 (the ‘Gravediggers’ – Cmdr Colonel Thomas Granger) is summarily disbanded with immediate effect, pending investigation of article 118 malfeasance. Warrants have been issued for the arrest of the following men:
Colonel Thomas Granger – RN348384793888
Sergeant William Patrick Creedy – RN934308459839
Private Merrad Banks – RN239852389578
Able Seaman Gerhard Tummel – RN934783898 Able Seaman Swan Tummel – RN09859080908
Issued without prejudice on behalf of his Majesty Emperor Jilak Hu.
He stared at the note for a long time. His shoulder began to throb with renewed vigour as his heart rate quickened, but he barely noticed it. He felt strangely numb. He looked at the young witch. ‘How did Sister Marks get this?’
The girl just shrugged. ‘She’s Haurstaf.’
‘What is it?’ Creedy asked.
Granger ignored him. ‘And why is she helping us?’ he said to the witch.
‘She—’ The girl suddenly stopped. ‘I’m not allowed to say.’ She paused for a minute, then nodded. ‘Politics.’
Creedy leaned forward. ‘You getting love letters from psychics now?’
‘She was the only one who liked his joke,’ Banks muttered.
‘What joke was that?’ Creedy asked.
‘The one about the emperor’s cock.’
‘Be quiet,’ Granger said. He took a deep breath. ‘Private Banks, Sergeant Creedy, we are now civilians. Emperor Hu has disbanded the Gravediggers.’
Nobody spoke.
‘We’ve been charged under article 118,’ Granger went on. ‘Attempting to escape active duty through self-inflicted injuries. Warrants already issued. They’ll be coming for us at any moment.’
Creedy roared. ‘Warrants?’
‘We’re fugitives.’
‘Son of a bitch.’
Granger felt suddenly light-headed. ‘Language, Sergeant,’ he said. ‘A direct insult to the emperor—’
‘Fuck him,’ Creedy snarled. ‘Fuck him and fuck the law. We ought to wring that powdered bastard’s neck.’ His eye had begun to bleed again, and a red patch was spreading into the bandage. He looked up again in disbelief. ‘Self-inflicted injuries?’
‘It’s close enough to the truth,’ Granger said. ‘I’m afraid I’ve let us down.’
‘You’re not taking sole responsibility for this one, Colonel,’ Swan said. ‘It was about time somebody said it to his face.’
‘I’ve been itching to have it out with him myself,’ Tummel said. ‘That pond lily has been living in a fantasy too long.’
Swan gave a derisory grunt.