Page 91 of Mongrels United
“The network you thought you had under control? It was selling Bellish to a lot more people than the one hundred on your list. It isn’t just those people who will die in the next few weeks. There will be a lot more deaths from withdrawal, and it isyou, not me, who is responsible for each and every one of them. You let Bellish circulate, to save your one hundred, while who knows how many others became addicted to it?”
For the first time since she had stepped into his office, Siran looked something other than furious. Doubt deepened the creases at the corners of his eyes. “There can’t be too many. We controlled it. Minimized it.”
“By what? Bribes? Payments? You really think that would stop these people?” Grady shook her head. “Bellish cannot be controlled. Didn’t the horror years before the Leroux Raid teach you that? You grew up in the chaos! You should know better! The only way to deal with Bellish is to get rid of it. All of it. And dismantle the apparatus and the network that made it. And yes, people will die because of that. And I will regret their deaths, but I will not tolerate Bellish on this ship, Siran. It is a ship-killer. It nearly destroyed theEnduranceonce already. Enough is enough. It has to go.”
Siran considered her. She could see he was weighing up options, looking for the spin he could put on this.
“And you must go, too,” Grady said, as evenly as she could.
His eyes widened. “What?”
“You heard me. I want you to resign, Siran. Today.”
“Why in the name of theEndurancewould I do that?” Siran asked, sounding amazed. But there was an odd note in his voice that Grady thought might be fear. He knew exactly what she was saying.
“Because of what you just told me. Because you knew about the Bellish, and you condoned it. You let it flourish. It’s only been twenty years since the Leroux Raid, and already the ship’s moral is dipping. Crimes are rising. All the markers that made the Bellish years hell were creeping back to the same levels, bit by bit. I could never understand why nothing we did put a dent in those numbers. But now I do. And you knew all along. You could have stopped it at any time. And for that, I will never forgive you.”
Siran flinched. “Your moral superiority—” he began.
“No, you do not get to sit in judgement of me, Siran Carpenter,” she shot back. “You’re not worthy of judging me.”
He shifted on his feet. “We can talk about this. Find a way—”
“No. I will settle for nothing less than your resignation.”
Siran licked his lips. “I’ll make amends. A public announcement. They’ll need to know what is coming, anyway.”
Grady began to tremble. “No.” She shook her head. “You resign.”
Siran resorted to anger. It was all he had left, she knew. “I amthe captain of this ship!Who are you to tell me what to do!” His face turned red.
“I’m a citizen of theEndurance,” Grady said with a calmness she didn’t feel. “And I want a captain who cares about the ship and the people on it.Allthe people.”
He stared at her, breathing hard. Then he sank into his chair and put his face in his hands.
“I’ll draw up a resignation letter for you,” Grady said. “And you will sign it.”
He made a muffled sound.
“I’ll take that as an agreement,” Grady said and went to write the letter.
Thirty minutes later, when Siran had signed the letter, Grady sealed it, registered it and informed the staff in the office, while Siran cleared out his desk and went back to the Captain’s apartment on the Bridge to start packing.
Still operating on sheer will power, Grady sent everyone off to arrange an election inside the week. She could hear near-hysteria sweeping through the rooms and corridors of the Bridge as the news passed.
She had run out of energy. She badly needed to be alone…no, not alone, but with someone she trusted utterly, with whom she could safely let herself react to what had happened. The mass of emotions sat in her chest like a hot iron core.
Grady told a harried Luus she’d be back in two hours and left the Bridge. She walked swiftly to the Aventine, and around the back of the arena to the train platform there. Around the arena, and beyond it, where the Aventine Markets were, she could hear that last night’s party had not yet properly stopped. People were still singing and letting off confetti bombs. The printers had been churning them out for hours and confetti was building up in drifts around the footings of buildings and up against the mag line.
Grady heard lots of laughter and joy in the noise from the Aventine. That same infectious happiness had spread across the ship last night. Every district was celebrating the Mongrels’ win.
And so they should. The team who represented no one and everyone had stolen the championship from the old establishment. It was theEndurance’s victory as much as it was the Mongrels’.
She stepped onto the platform as the train pulled up to it and hurried down to the other end. She liked to use the front carriage, for the silly illusion that it wasn’t as far to walk to the Palatine elevator from there.
Grady wove around people waiting for the train to halt but was slowed by many of them turning the greet her by name. “Chief Grady!” one of them cried, her hands up. “Oh, the Mongrels won! Aren’t you proud?”
“Very proud,” Grady admitted and tried to step past her.
