level_main_09-03_beg

'As the wind combs through golden wheat,'

'The forest wild wi' pipes of steel clank and beat,'

'I found by the edge of a plate my dear love true, and following a firelight straight from the blue...'

So that's how the second half of the song goes...

How sad.

Now Damian's gone, and he won't even get a decent burial...

They'd never give him back to us. All they'd do is scorch him to ash, scatter him off the city, treat him like the dirt under anyone's foot.

(Soft sobbing)

First it was Lowry, then it was Chris, and now they've caught hold of Damian too. Grainne, when Sean got arrested, they all said he'd caught Oripathy—

No, Ronan, don't go on. Sean... he just caught it being careless.

He was a hardworking, loyal man. A poor, poor man, and the only thing he ever wanted was just a better life for me and my son...

Grainne, haven't you figured it out?

We're just a bunch of rivets to them. Of course they'll toss us away without a care when we rust.

And even if we haven't rusted, so long as we don't fit too well in the city's machines, we've got the same fate coming. Nothing changes.

They never gave a shit we were catching Oripathy one by one.

Every month they give out those drugs, the other workers get their whole lot, and we can only expect a half. Maybe even a third.

And the protective suits. How long has Sean been wearing his for? Five years? Bloody hell, seven? How many times have you snuck out of bed at night just to patch it up?

All those laws, all those standards, just for their benefit. And us?

We're only fit to eat the potatoes and the rotten apples they don't want. Means nothing that the ag plates of this city soak in our sweat.

We're only fit to waste away our lives day and night in the factories, and once we can't work a day more, we fall ill one by one just like they wanted!

The way this is going, it's like they're sitting there playing dominoes, wiping us Tarans off our own city—

Stop it... I'm begging you. Ronan, nothing you're saying will lead to any good.

Just look at Cliodhna and her kin stood over there. Crying over their own son, their own brother. How many more loves do you want lost, how many more hurting over what your anger did for them?

It's the murderers that brought this hurt. They're killing us one after another. Times it's with sickness, times it's with mortar shells. Grainne, don't you deceive yourself any longer.

(Low voice) This morning, a few came looking for me. The O'Briens, and Conor's brother. They've decided to join us.

It's been hard getting by for you and your kid, we understand. This is a big moment, and we need to help each other now more than ever...

You'd better keep far from me and my child, Ronan... seeing as my Sean got on well enough with your lot.

I have to go, Grainne. You see that one over there? She's wearing that uniform.

You know our rules. I trust in you, and I'm asking you to trust me more. If you've made up your mind, you can tell Saoirse.

Hello!

Er... hello.

Do you know Barry's, er, Damian Barry's family?

(Shakes head)

I heard you singin' just now. I'm not in the wrong place.

I... I don't know what you're searching about for, but Damian's ma and sister know nothing.

Then did he have any especially good friends, or anyone who worked at the warehouse with him?

We know nothing... That's the truth...

*Whimper*... I'm begging you! Please don't take me...

Huh? Sorry... did I get too close? I've got no intentions of hurtin' you.

You seem awful scared of me. Is somethin' on my face?

N... Nothing at all...

If you'll allow me, I need to go home. I still have so much fruit from this morning, and it'll go rotten in no time, if I leave it alone...

*Sigh*.

Eh? Is that... Captain Kelly?

Cliodhna, I just want to see you for one moment. I want to know if you and Fiona are still alright...

Yes, it was my mistake, but—

My hands were tied...

Of course I remember, I remember it all. Damian... he was the boy of my sister.

I watched him grow up his whole life. The day I was transferred back from Peninsula to Hillock, he set an edelweiss in my cap with his own two hands.

He was still so little then... I...

I'm sorry... I shouldn't be telling you all this.

You're right... I've been good for nothing. I haven't the face to return here.

I wasn't in time to stop him when he got involved with that group... and I couldn't disobey the Colonel's orders.

Not just that, I have to do this. This is all for County Hillock.

I love you all, and I love this city... I can't just stand goggling while that bunch tear our home to pieces.

I understand, Cliodhna, my sister, and I'm not asking your forgiveness or anything.

I'll... be going, then. You... you and Fiona be sure to take care of yourselves.

If I can find the time tomorrow, I'll come see you again...

*Cough*, *cough* *cough*...

What are you—

Oh, just... just a boy.

Are you... *cough* *cough*—are you hurt? Don't run too fast now. It's been decades, and they've still never levelled the road here...

Traitor!

Wh—What did you say?

Traitor!!!

I...

Craig! What are you doing?! Get back here now!

And what's that ball in your hands for... oh, forget it, you're always gripping that ball wherever you go. Were you off looking for Conor's brother again? Oh, you... Ronan's told you, hasn't he?

Look at your hands, all covered in black. It's like you were digging through a mine.

You come with me to the morning market from now on. You can't go looking for them around this time anymore... I can't let you become like them...

Traitor?

Boy... wasn't one bit wrong.

The Captain stands still for a moment, repeating the word, once, twice to himself, finally turning to leave.

His head is hung low as could be, and he doesn't meet the gaze of a single person more, including those young colleagues of him that rush his way.

Hold on a moment, Captain...

You—What are you all doing here? Pack off home, if you know what's good for you!

We've told you, you're not allowed to congregate on the streets at this time!

This is our home! It's not us who should go packing!

—Who had the lip to say that just now?

What are these... Wilted leaves?

Step forward right now!

You Tara rabble, watch I don't—

Brandishin' a bolt on the street's far too dangerous!

Who're you?

Ah, I'm here on orders. Come to investigate the case.

You're here for the murder at the bar?

Er, what murder?

This rabble right here. They've killed plenty of ours.

...Damian Barry?

Right, I hear he's been put to death already. I suppose it was you lot who caught him? Nicely done, thank you.

We didn't know yet when we caught him... was he really part of the spectre force? Er...

Who gives a shake what he was? Serves him right he's dead!

Did you hear me? No—congregating! Each and all of you up to whatever secret business here, you'll all be treated as suspects!

You bloody Tara arselickers—

Don't! Don't get carried away! Look, most of 'em are just plain city folk, with a loved one dead, and they're here grievin' for him, like human nature would.

Uh—a—a rotten potato?

Ha ha, see? You spoke for them, and you got battered, right?

If you're so keen on staying here, stay. As long as I make sure this rabble behaves itself, I'm done. My rotten luck for getting this patrol duty.

You riff-raff, I'll say it again, no congregating!!

I...

Oh, it's just more and more rottin' leaves...

Come this way.

Eh, what?

'Reporting in, 9th Defence attacked...'

'Reporting in, 13th Defence currently in firefight...'

Send notice one more time, please. I want to see Colonel Hamilton.

The Colonel's handling urgent affairs.

You said that two hours ago.

I've already abided by strict process. I submitted description of my duty yesterday when entering County Hillock.

If the Colonel won't let us take part in suspect interrogations, and goes to lengths to execute them beforehand, and presently refuses my request to meet him—

To anyone else, don't you think this conduct might be taken as a deliberate hindrance to our fulfillment of orders?

I have no authority to answer your question, Lieutenant.

That's fine. I'll say my part, and it's enough if someone listens.

I've said before, the Originium products thieved are not small in number. It's sufficient arms to allow a detachment to attack a small town, or bomb a medium nomadic city's support tracks.

Who'd want to obtain these products?

Ordinary bandits wouldn't need them; it'd cost too much to smuggle them out. With Victorian military goods in this great a bulk, even a Sargon black market under Columbia's protection wouldn't dare provide a means for a deal.

Who else is left? A local private arms dealer, moneymaking off the costs of remodeling? They haven't got the appetite, let alone the guts.

Only a well-trained unit, well-versed in military methods would dare take it, and could evade our spies on top.

If this unit got hold of that large a quantity of Originium product, what would their goal be?

Conspiracy to overthrow? Taking the chance to embezzle far removed from Londinium, colluding with outside powers to fill their pockets, slowly and steadily?

Lieutenant...

No need to panic, this is all just baseless reasoning, no thanks to whoever's keeping me waiting. I can't get anything done like this.

(Subdued communications)

Lieutenant, the Colonel says he'll be here imminently.