Bitter Cold Truth: A Tale of the Everburning City

(7-2) Is an enemy within

"Should I leave you two alone?" Angela asked.

Samuel held up his other hand, pointing his finger into the air. But asides from that, Samuel ignored her while he drank.

He didn't drink it quickly, but he didn't pause until he had drained the mug and set it down on the table with reverent care. "Embers of the last flame, Mr Hanover. You have risen high in my esteem."

"Sam gets like this when he gets a bit of alcohol in his system," Angela laughed, pushing her empty mug toward Samuel's. "Get him drunk, and he'll start talking with 'thee' and 'thou' and 'forsooth'. Get him sloshed, and he'll try to recruit you on a quest to rid the City of sin and corruption."

"Sin and corruption holds the City up," Clovis retorted, as he took the glasses from the counter.

Samuel was sure it was something in the mead that spoke for him. "Do you mean that?" he asked.

Clovis started at him for a moment, before he nodded. "I do. Sin is the balm that helps us normal people cope with the madness waiting for us beyond the walls. And corruption is an outlet for our own depravity."

"But surely it deserves to be fought," Samuel insisted.

"You're burning right it does," Clovis replied, surprising Samuel by pouring another round for them. "But you won't ever win. And it's better that way."

"Explain that, sir," Samuel said with a grin, taking the next mug.

"Take a look around you," Clovis said. "This is sin. Particularly to the prudes and hypocrites of High Central. But unless we have places like this, where we can drink and laugh, and pretend for a moment the siege isn't endless..."

"Then you get crazies like the Cult of the Quashed Redeemers," Angela finished for him, while Samuel was busy taking another sip.

"Or worse. Despair inspires rebellion. And rebellions have a bad habit of breaking fragile things, like walls and distribution pipes," Clovis insisted. "But decadence deserves to be fought. Indulge sin and corruption too far, and we get nasty stuff like that child prostitution ring in the Undercity that was running until eight years ago. So, inspector, I don't want you to win. But I'll donate a few pints to keep you fighting."

"I can accept your charity," Samuel said as he drank again.

"So Angela," Clovis asked, "how bad is this case, that you're willing to bring your partner here?"

"It's as bad as it gets," Angela admitted.

"Have anything to do with whatever happened at Billows Station?" Clovis asked. "Heard an airship was there for half the night."

Somewhere in the back of Samuel's mind, something ticked at his suspicions. He set his mug down, only half finished, and listened.

"Yeah. We have a weird case. Really can't talk about it, since it's still ongoing," Angela insisted.

"So you haven't caught him yet," Clovis said blandly.

Him. While the odds were three to one in favour of the average criminal being a man, Samuel was surprised at how confidently Clovis spoke.

"Came close," Angela said before she flinched and covered her mouth.

"Don't worry about that, Ang," Samuel said, not wanting the conversation to end, despite Angela's somewhat loose tongue. Something about the way Clovis was asking questions reminded Samuel of his own interrogation techniques, and he found himself curious about the bartender's motives. "Some of what we've done is too high-profile to not make it in a paper or two."