Глава 11

And then, everyone heard a howl even clearer than thunder.

A howl?

Yes, a howl. The people who were there say it was Victoria's emblem, the symbol on our flag, coming alive.

Because ever since that day, Victoria had officially surmounted Gaul, and become the grandest nation of all Terra's lands.

I'm so sorry, Lady Golding! Your father was Gaulish, I forgot...

You needn't apologize to me, Molly. You and I, Ralph, and the hundreds of thousands of children that grew up here... all grew as Londiniers.

Perhaps the same goes for the one in the suit of steam armor outside.

Do you know a Steam Knight, Miss Golding?

...Charles Lynch.

He used to live in Auchterigg. Tom the cobbler was an old friend of his, hence why he loves to tell tales of His Majesty and the Steam Knights so much.

In fact, Lynch was the last Steam Knight His Majesty ever titled in his life.

And the last Steam Knight titled up till now.

The night drags on.

For so long that the children hear every tale of the Steam Knights told in Londinium, and first light has just broken.

The sound of artillery stops sooner than they expected. Past the witching hour, the streets outside have more or less returned to silence. But no words are needed as they all continue to stay huddled indoors. No one dares rush to see the state out there.

Near to every Londinier has been awake the whole night.

The same question circles in everyone's minds—come next morning, will Londinium be different?

The next day...

Seems like everything's the same... Where have the Duke's men gone?

I knew it. I knew the situation would come under control lickety-split once the Steam Knights showed up!

I just didn't think it'd be <i>this</i> fast...

Molly... some way or another, we're going to need to buy essentials.

We don't know what might happen next.

You two! What are you doing out here?!

Mr. Adams!

Excellent. For the children, knowledge is just as indispensable.

...Especially under present circumstances.

Mr. Adams, could you bring me those sets of plays from yesterday? And I'm afraid I'll need a few more too...

Hmm. These fairytales, along with those first steps into mathematics and physics there, and a copy of the Home Medical Guide. If you could parcel all that, please...

Wait, what's that noise?

From not far away sound uniform footsteps.

They're unlike those the Londiniers have heard at parades. These are heavier, and more urgent.

The Palace of Westhaleg. The Shard. Parliament Square.

One flight after another in seamless succession, through Auchterigg's almost desolate streets, through the center of Londinium, Victoria's heart.

As the footsteps press towards this most ordinary of streets, some of those ducked to the side of the street finally catch clear sight of the advancing army—

Or better said, they see clearly the soldiers' appearances.

The horns, each shape their own, all condensed in ominous black, not even the rushing yawn of daylight casting a shine on them.

...Sarkaz.

They're Sarkaz mercenaries.

If they are mercenaries, I assume they'll leave soon.

And then Londinium will be back to the way it was, won't it?

They don't know it yet, but in the years to come, many a thing will change completely.

For one, the Sarkaz army won't ever leave Londinium.

And for another—

From that day forth, no one will ever see steam armor in her streets again.

One Year Ago...

4:56 P.M. \ Overcast

Munitions Factory No. 11, Highbury District of Londinium

Oi, has the last batch of polymer prep come in yet?

What—what do you mean it hasn't?!

This takes the piss...

Who was in charge of transporting those materials?

It was, er, the one in charge, er...

What are you dithering for?

...It was Feist.

That boy...

He went out first thing this morning. Should've been back ages ago.

Who went with him?

Tommy, Patto and Day.

They're not the same workshop. How'd they get on the same shift?

They all get along like a housefire. Keep mucking together all the time. Feist's their little ringleader.

You've hit a snag, from the sounds of it.

Small potatoes, nothing more.

Small potatoes.

Catherine, you know what day it is today, right?

How could I forget?

`I've been fearing for my life I'll upset our officer if I sign and it looks like fowl scratch. I started practicing my signature ten whole days ago.

That's practice under your belt, then. The General's stressing importance hard on the handover ceremony in two days. Reportedly, the Defense Forces' head is showing too.

Want a cig?

...Heh. Pass one here.

You know why it is all your factory's people have stuck around until now, don't you?

We work very hard.

That's a given.

You do your work very well. We're alike in that regard. Work, get paid, scrape a living.

But our employers know all too well the more exceptional a merc's work, the less he can be trusted.

Standard fare.

Old manager of this industrial park, Sir Humphrey, never trusted us either. Before you dragged him away.

Don't make trouble for me, Catherine.

The mercenary's tone is placid, like he's the one asking Catherine if she wants a smoke. As he so often does.

This is his job. Offing a few disobedient Londinium workers to him is almost the same as the screws she tightens on the daily.

Catherine taps her cigarette into a bag. Can't have ash falling into the machinery.

I've told you more times than I can count.

If you want efficiency maintained, our factory can't afford one fewer worker.

I admire you a fair bit, Catherine. Even a typical merc might not even have the guts you do.

You've got the stuff. Thing is, it's possible to take anything too far.

Londinium's got over a hundred munitions factories just like yours. Even if this whole place was dead empty, the Regent wouldn't care.

Nothing will change. The ceremony will come the day after, we'll hand over everything promised, and all our workers will be there.

No need for you lot to worry about a thing.

I'll take your word for it, then.

Of course. Not got a lighter? You're just holding your cig there...

You hold onto it, after all. Londinium smokes always have a sort of engine oil to them. Can't ever get over it.

Catherine, what do we do?

(Pinches cigarette out)

...Off to the loading area.

Patto! Done there?

Just this screw left!

Sort it out. If this keeps up, they'll be waiting a whole week at least to get more polymer prep.

Polymer up to our ears, it's just batch after batch coming in. The hell are the Sarkaz building?

I haven't seen. Granny doesn't let me anywhere near the assembly line. Only her most trusted workmates get to climb up that walkway.

The longer this keeps up, the more it must be very important to the Sarkaz.