She whispered, “Did you overdo it?”
“Yes,” said Cam shortly, then: “It wears off. We’re fine.” Then: “Let’s take a nap.”
Nona had been going to ask Camilla lots and lots of questions, but at the idea that they would get to take a nap together she forgot all of them. She was tired herself and had been obliged to eat two sandwiches. When nobody was looking she had gone searching in We Suffer’s little case of pens and things and found a whole bright pink eraser, and she had taken a huge bite out of it and that had made her feel better, but getting to sleep next to Camilla was the best of all.
When she had woken up the dye had all come out because she had scratched it off in her sleep and the plastic bits had peeled out too, so We Suffer had had to put them back in but didn’t even complain about it. No one even forced her to tell them about her dream. When We Suffer was doing this, Camilla said— “Keep to yes or no answers. Ianthe may try to talk to you. Refuse to answer.”
“Rudely or nicely?”
“Rudely.”
Nona felt she could do that.
“The rest of the time,” said Camilla, “you need to act like the Captain.”
Nona wanted to say, “You mean lying down?” but it did not seem the right time to try to be funny. Cam looked so serious. She said slowly, “Like I have the blue madness?”
“Yes—you’re well enough to stand and you know what’s going on, but you’re going to keep having fits of blue madness.”
“When?”
Camilla thought about it.
“Whenever you’re asked something difficult.”
This was Nona’s only task, except for being dressed as, pretending to be, and answering to the name of Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Cam had told her that her main job was to be a Distraction. Nona asked if Harrowhark Nonagesimus had been a Distraction in life, and Cam said it always was the quiet ones. It seemed as though Camilla’s part would be the more challenging. We Suffer and Cam spent a long time talking quietly over maps while Pash leant against one wall and pared her thumbnails with a knife; Nona’s heart throbbed romantically.
At last We Suffer made her eyebrows go together and said, “We will provide the getaway. The rest is up to you.”
Camilla said, “Your part?”
“Ctesiphon breached one of Merv Wing’s cells two hours ago,” said We Suffer. “The interrogation was underway within fifteen minutes. By the time we will have to answer for our intercell crimes, I will either be a conquering hero to whom everything is forgiven … or I will have to shoot myself. I will be disappointed if I must shoot myself, Hect. I have very often not had to shoot myself. Our Lady of the Passion will accompany you.”
Pash’s knife stopped and she said, “No, I won’t. I’m on duty.”
“Your duty and I have had a talk, and they would like to be present,” said We Suffer smoothly.
“They shouldn’t go anywhere near that super-zombie,” said Pash, incredibly startled. “Commander, fuck this, I’m taking them to the safe house the moment dusk hits.”
“I am not telling you this as any kind of command,” said We Suffer. “I am telling you I have been served my marching orders, and Aim says that Aim desires to oversee this operation from a place of safety next to their lifeguard. You are the only lifeguard on duty, as Merv Wing is currently suffering unavoidable pangs courtesy of us.”
“I’m not going anywhere near that thing.”
“You have met a Lyctor before,” said We Suffer.
“I don’t mean the Lyctor.”
“It is only a body,” said We Suffer.
“Why do I detect your finger in this pie?”
“You are budging curiously close up to insubordination again,” said We Suffer.
“Commander, my ass is already grass if the council finds out about anything I did yesterday. I signed myself over to Ctesiphon when I was a kid. I’m with you. But the Messenger shouldn’t be near th—”
We Suffer said, “They may have a working shuttle, Pash. Quiet, please.”
Pash went quiet. We Suffer said, “Hect. You say you only need one good chance—an element of surprise—and the Lyctor will be out of the question?”
“In all likelihood, not permanently,” said Camilla.
“If not permanently—what happens after that?”
“We’re flying blind,” said Camilla.
We Suffer said, “A Lyctor out of the question impermanently is more than any of us has ever achieved—nearly any of us,” she amended. But then she sighed again, explosively, and said: “So long as the key is secure, I may get away with anything … You are certain, one simple touch?”