The Scar - China Mieville [170]
“But he did it,” said Bellis. “He wasn’t going to do anything without proof. I showed him the letters, and yes, Silas, he’s loyal to Garwater. He’s no intention of ever going back. But, dammit, you think he doesn’t have friends left behind? You think he relishes the idea of the grindylow taking New Crobuzon? Godspit!
“For the sake of the people he left. For the sake of memories. Whatever. He took the box, the seal, the letters, and I told him what to do. It was a last good-bye to his fucking city. From him as much as from me and you.”
Silas was nodding slowly, acknowledging that perhaps she had had no choice.
“You gave him the stuff?” he said.
“Yes. But it all went ahead, no problems. Silas . . . we owe Tanner Sack.”
“But does he know . . .” said Silas hesitantly, “who I am?”
“Of course not.” He relaxed visibly at her words. “Do you think I’m stupid? I remember what was done to the captain. I’d not have you killed, Silas,” she said. Her voice was soft but not warm. It was a statement of fact, not of closeness.
After some moments of reflection, Silas seemed to finish his deliberations.
“I suppose it was the only choice,” he said, and Bellis nodded curtly.
You ungracious fuck, she thought, furious. You weren’t there. . .
“And you say the Samheri have the package? Sealed and ready to deliver?” He was grinning furiously. “We’ve done it,” he said. “We’ve done it.”
“That was more the reaction I was expecting,” Bellis said unpleasantly. “Yes, we have.” They looked at each other for a long time. “When do you think they’ll reach New Crobuzon?”
“I don’t know,” said Silas. “Maybe it won’t work. Maybe it will, and we’ll hear nothing. We’ll save the city, and hear nothing about it, ever. I may see out my days on this fucking tub, desperately scheming to get off. But godsdammit, isn’t it something to know what we’ve done?” He spoke fervently. “Even without response, even without thanks, isn’t it something to know that we’ve saved them?”
And yes, thought Bellis Coldwine, it was something. It was certainly something. She felt a wave of loneliness breaking over her. Was it worse? she wondered. Could it be worse? To never know? To send that message across the world, through so many hazards, through such danger, for it to disappear without a sound? To never know?
Gods, she thought, bereft and stunned. Is that the last of it? Is that the end?
“What happens now?” he said. “With me and you?”
Bellis shrugged. “What did you want?” Her voice was more tired than scornful.
“I know it’s hard,” he said gently. “I know it’s more compli-cated than we’d thought. I don’t expect anything from you. But Bellis . . . there are things we share, things between us—and I don’t think that’s the only reason we spent time together. I would like us to be friends. Can you really afford not to have me? To have no one who knows? How you really feel? Where you want to be?”
She was not quite sure of him, but it was as he said: they shared things that no one else did. Could she afford to lose him? There might be years ahead of her in this city (she shudders to think it). Could she afford to have no one to whom she could speak the truth?
When he stood to go, he held out his hand, his palm open and up, expectantly.
“Where’s the New Crobuzon seal?” he said.
Bellis had been afraid of this. “I don’t have it,” she said.
He did not get angry this time, just closed his hand with a soft clap and raised his eyes to ask her what had happened.
“It was Tanner,” she said, ready for him to fly at her. “He dropped it in the sea.”
“It’s a ring, Bellis,” Silas said quietly. “It sits safe on your finger. You don’t lose it. He hasn’t lost it. He’s kept it, gods know why. Souvenir from home? Something to blackmail you with? Gods know.” He shook his head and sighed, and she was furious with his manner, which said I am disappointed in you.
“I’d better leave, Bellis,” he said. “Carefully—you’re watched, remember.