They replaced everything they found with forgeries made out of pebbles wrapped in paper. These false sticks wouldn’t fool anyone on close inspection, but Yaozu didn’t think the tower men were likely to double-check them. After all, he’d given the order that the lines must be left in place—and the lines were long, some running as much as four or five blocks in length.

Everyone was counting on the fact that the tower men did not intend to come any closer to the Station than necessary.

Rector’s sleep in his new room was as restless as everyone else’s; he tossed and turned, and dreamed badly—of rotters and inexplicable monsters, and of Zeke’s ghost—but Zeke wasn’t dead, and that’s how he knew he was dreaming. He shook himself awake and heard the high-pitched fuss of the fox in the room down the hall … which wasn’t much more pleasant than the dreams of things that wanted to eat him.

But he was awake, and there was nothing to be done about it.

He pulled on his boots and listened to the unhappy creature until it quieted, and its vocalizations were replaced with the soft, muttering syllables of someone speaking gently.

Rector knew it was Zeke even before he got down to the fox’s room.

The door was cracked open. He pushed it, letting a little more light inside.

Zeke crouched next to the cage, his fingers precariously close to the fox’s quivering, pointed nose. The boy looked up when Rector entered. “Oh, hey Rector. Just checking on the fox. Angeline told me he was down here.”

“Making plenty of noise, ain’t he?” Rector rubbed at his eyes, and scratched at the sweaty, itchy seams where his mask had sat against his face for too many hours.

“He’s scared. And he doesn’t feel good.”

“He drank the water. That’ll make anybody feel like shit.”

Zeke nodded and said, “I brought him more, though, and he drank that, too.”

“You get him to eat anything?”

“Some jerky.” He held it up, and Rector saw that he’d been hand-feeding the fox through the slim wire bars.

“You got to be careful. If that fox bites you…”

“He’s not trying to bite me, he’s only trying to eat. I think he’ll get better, if he gets enough grub in him.” Zeke gazed at the fox as though he’d give almost anything to pet the thing’s ears.

“Don’t be a dummy,” Rector warned. “That fox ain’t nobody’s dog. It’d bite you even if it weren’t sick. That there’s a wild animal, and if it gets better, it’s going right back outside the wall, where it belongs.”

“That’s fine. I don’t mind turning him loose; I just don’t want him to be so damn sick. I feel sorry for him, is all.”

Rector sat down beside Zeke and drew up his knees. “I’d feel sorry for you, if we had to cut off your hand or something.”

Zeke smiled, but didn’t withdraw his fingers or the jerky he offered the fox. The animal took another bite, chewed it, and then retreated to the cage’s far end. It turned in a circle and flopped down, looking dejected … but maybe less dejected than it had the day before.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” Zeke asked.

“I been asleep. I just woke up.”

“Everybody’s riled up. All this talk of dynamite and fire … the Station is going to war with the tower. Only the tower don’t know it yet.”

“I hope they don’t know it,” Rector said nervously.

“What do you mean by that?”

He told Zeke about the inexplicable and Captain Cly, and how he and Houjin had almost been caught. He added, “I can’t imagine they knew who we were, or what we were doing. They might’ve noticed we opened some of the dynamite and took a bit, but there’s always the chance they’ll write it off to boys being boys.”

“Ain’t that just about the dumbest expression? Boys being boys … what the hell else are we supposed to be?”

“Damned if I know.”

“Me either.”

They sat together in silence for a minute, staring at the pitiful fox, then Zeke said, “I been thinking. Even if we catch the inexplicable and stick him in the jail, how will we give him clean air? If Captain Cly can’t take him, then the thing’s too big to wrestle. And I don’t think he would understand if we held a gun to him.”

“Miss Angeline seems to think we’ll manage.”

“I know, and she’s usually right. But the spaces under the jailhouse aren’t sealed; the sasquatch wouldn’t get enough clean air like that. He’s not like this little fox. We can’t just put him in a crate and stick him in a corner.”

“Then what did you have in mind?”

“Well, I was thinking, see: How do we get clean air when we’re moving around up topside?”

Rector said, “Masks. Filters. All that rigmarole.”

“Right. So what if we put a mask on the monster?”

Rector leaned back thoughtfully against the wall. “How do you know he’d wear one? He could yank it off.”

“Not if we tied up his hands, or something. If there are any irons left in the jail, and they aren’t all rusted through, maybe we could hitch him up like a crook.”

“Sounds tricky.”

“Yeah, but it’d be easier than convincing him to come with us just because we’re nice people who want to help him. If we can get him to the jail and get him food and water, maybe he’d settle down enough to trust us.”

“That kind of thing don’t happen.”

“It don’t?” Zeke pointed at the fox. “That fox is scared to death, but it knows I don’t mean it no harm. If the inexplicables are something more like people, they must be even smarter. Even if he doesn’t understand us, he might understand we’re on his side.”

“All that sounds real nice, but I’d be afraid to see it in action. And anyway, where would we get a mask big enough to fit him?”

“The captain has a big head, but he’s got a mask to fit it. So does Mr. Swakhammer.”

“You want to ask him for a loaner, to stick on a monster?”

“No, I’m just saying—there are big masks. I saw a fellow wearing one once. It was like a big glass bubble with a row of small filters and tubes instead of two big filters. I think it’d fit over the inexplicable’s head.”

Rector tried to imagine this mask, and failed. “I have to see this thing.”

When they left the fox it was resting. They shut the door to let it sleep off whatever it could, then went hunting for the big glass bubble Zeke swore existed someplace. It took them over an hour to find it, in the very back of the second largest storeroom on the bottommost floor. When they did, Zeke held it triumphantly aloft.

Rector could hardly believe his eyes. “That’s the damnedest thing I ever saw!” he exclaimed. “Who made it?”

“Doctor Minnericht. It’s a good idea—a mask that you can see out of all the way around. It reminds me of something I saw in a book once, a drawing about people who go underwater and swim around without coming up for air.”

Rector had never seen such a book. “People can do that?”

“I don’t know. It might’ve just been a story.”

“Let me see that thing.”

Zeke handed it over. “Sure, but be careful with it. That’s the only one. But you saw the monster—I mean, the inexplicable. Do you think this would fit over his head?”

Rector weighed the thing in his hands. It was heavy indeed—heavier than it looked, and big enough to hold a few gallons of water. “I think so, yeah.”

“Then we should try it. Let’s take it to Angeline, when she gets up and around.”

“What time is it right now?”

“No idea. Maybe a smidge before dawn.”

Rector yawned. “No wonder I’m so tired.”

“Should’ve stayed in bed.”

“So should you,” he shot back.

“Well, neither one of us did—so let’s go to the kitchen and get some breakfast. Then we’ll see what Angeline has to say about the mask idea, and she can tell us if she thinks we’re crazy.”

Twenty-six

Angeline did not think they were particularly crazy. In fact, when they caught up to her and Houjin in the Vault’s main parlor area, she rather liked the idea. “It’ll be easier to put a hat on ’im than haul him anyplace civilized for safekeeping, won’t it? Of course, this won’t make it any easier to catch him.”

“No, that part will be up to us,” Houjin said. He was holding the mask and examining it, no doubt thinking of ways it could be improved. “If only we knew what he wanted, we could lure him out—maybe get him to chase us.”

Rector shuddered. “I hate everything about that plan.”

“Food,” Zeke proposed. “Water. That’s all the fox wants, as far as we can tell. It ain’t even trying to bite us or nothing.”

“It’s a start,” the princess mused. “But running through the Blight carrying a bucket of water … that plan won’t end well. Food will be easier.”

“What do they eat?” Rector asked.

Houjin smirked. “He tried to eat you.”

“I bet I’m delicious. But I don’t want to be monster bait.”

“Not a monster,” she reminded them. “Call him by his name, Sasquatch. Is that so hard?”

Rector said, “No, ma’am,” and Zeke shrugged.

Angeline shook her head. “I’m still thinking about food. Just about everything native to this place lives on the same diet, if it’ll eat plants and animals both. Let’s assume Sasquatch is that kind of creature.”

Rector frowned. “Why?”

“Because it’s shaped like us, and kin to us, and we’re the sort of creatures who eat both plants and animals. Which gives me a good idea … You boys stay out of trouble for the morning. I’ll be back in a bit.”