The Scar - China Mieville [103]
Bellis’ face was impassive, the words tasting like curdled milk in her mouth (even though she realized they were not entirely lies).
There had been a time when Bellis had considered telling Johannes the truth about the threat to New Crobuzon. But she was still stunned by the speed with which he had allied himself to Armada and Garwater. It was clear that he had very little love for the city of his birth. But still, she thought, he would not (surely) be neutral in the case of The Gengris. He must have friends, family in New Crobuzon. He could not be indifferent to that threat. Surely?
But what if he did not believe her? If he did not, if he thought this was a convoluted attempt to escape, if he brought her and her claims to the attention of the Lovers, who would not give two shits about the fate of New Crobuzon, then she would have frittered away her only chance to get a message back to the city.
Why should the rulers of Armada care what one far-off nation did to another? Perhaps they would even welcome the grindylow plans. New Crobuzon’s was a strong navy. Bellis had no idea how deep Johannes’ new allegiance extended. She could not risk telling him the truth.
She waited carefully on the Shadeskinner’s deck, sensing Johannes’ guarded pleasure.
“Do you think you can do it?” she said eventually.
He frowned. “Do what?”
“Do you think you can raise the avanc?”
He was stunned. She watched the thoughts race across him. Incredulity and anger and fear. She saw him consider lying for a tiny moment, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but that temptation ebbed, taking all the other emotions with it.
He was composed again in seconds.
“I suppose I shouldn’t really be surprised,” he said quietly. “It’s absurd to think you can keep something like that secret.” He drummed his fingers on the rail. “To be honest, it’s a constant amazement to me how few people seem to know. It’s as if those who don’t are conspiring with those who do. How did you know? No amount of care or thaumaturgy can keep plans this big secret, I suppose. They’ll have to come clean soon: too many people know already.”
“Why are you doing it?” Bellis said.
“Because of what it’ll do for the city,” he said. “That’s why the Lovers are doing it.” He kicked the rail contemptuously and jerked a thumb at the steamboats and tugs way to starboard, massed at the end of their chains, hauling southward. “Look at how this bloody thing moves. A mile an hour? Two with a strong wind? It’s absurd. And this kind of effort is so fuel-intensive it’s damn rare for them. Most of the time this place just bobs around, circling the ocean. But think how all that can change if they can snare this thing. They’ll be able to travel wherever they want. Think about the power. They’ll rule the fucking seas.
“It was tried once before.” He looked away, rubbing his chin. “They think. There’s evidence under the city. Chains. Hidden by hexes centuries old. The Lovers . . . they’re not like any rulers this place has ever had. Especially her. And something changed when Uther Doul came to be their guard, more than a decade back. Since then they’ve pursued this. They got messages to Tinnabol and his crew, the best hunters there are. Not just quick with a harpoon; they’re scientists: marine biologists, coordinators. They’ve been
in charge of the avanc hunt for years. There’s nothing they don’t know about trapping. If anyone had tried to do this before, they’d have heard stories about it.
“Of course on their own they could never catch an avanc. But they have more information on them now than anyone in the world. Can you imagine what it would mean to a hunter, to succeed in this? So that’s why the Lovers are doing it, and that’s why Tintinnabulum’s crew are doing it.” He caught Bellis’ eye, and a smile broke on him.
“And me?” he said. “I’m doing it, Bellis, because it’s an avanc!”
His enthusiasm was as sudden, irritating, and infectious as a child’s. His passion for his work was quite sincere.