Free City of Stairs by Robert Jackson Bennett Page A

Bulikov poses a threat to Saypur.”
    “In Bulikov? Shit. It’s only crawled out of total squalor in the past fifteen years or so. When I got here it was probably no different than when the Kaj captured it. People were still shitting in buckets. It’s hard to imagine how it could pose a threat.”
    “They thought the same before the Summer of Black Rivers, when we introduced the Regulations and Bulikov rebelled, and the city was in an even worse state then. The passion of Bulikov far outweighs its limitations, it seems.”
    “Poetic,” says Mulaghesh. She runs a thumb along the scar on her jaw. “But probably true.” She slouches back farther in her chair, a feat Shara hadn’t realized was possible, and appears to think.
    Shara knows she is wondering if it’s wise to extend a hand to this new, mysterious official: so often in the Ministry good deeds and charitable actions win only woe, when someone loses their footing and all those who supported them get punished.
    “I need your help, Governor,” says Shara. “I cannot depend on the embassy.”
    Mulaghesh snorts. “Who can?”
    “Quite right. And I am willing to do what is necessary to win your support.”
    “Oh, really?”
    “Yes. I wish to put this all to bed as quickly as possible. And I’d need your help to do so.”
    Mulaghesh chews the end of her cigar. “I don’t know if you can give me what I want.”
    “You may be surprised.”
    “Maybe. I don’t mind being a servant, Ambassador Komayd. And that’s what we are, civil servants. But I’ve served enough. I want to go someplace a lot better than this backward ruin.”
    Shara thinks she already knows where she’s going. “Ahanashtan?”
    Mulaghesh laughs. “Ahanashtan? You think I want more responsibility? By the seas, no. What I want, Ambassador, is to get stationed in Javrat .”
    “Javrat?” says Shara, surprised.
    “Yes. Way out in the South Seas. I want to go someplace with palm trees. Sun. With beaches . Someplace with good wine, and men whose skin doesn’t look like beef fat. I want to get far away from the Continent, Ambassador. I don’t want anything to do with this anymore.”
    Shara is a bit taken aback by this. The polis of Ahanashtan contains the only functioning international port on the Continent, and as trade has become more and more naval since the War, that makes Ahanashtan one of the few Continental polises with any wealth. In addition, since Saypur’s military strength lies almost exclusively in its ships, Ahanashtan is also the city with the closest connection to Saypur, making its polis governor one of the more powerful figures in the world. Presumably every Saypuri official on the Continent would love to get the job … but requesting the tiny island of Javrat would mean Mulaghesh wants essentially to step out of the political game altogether , and Shara has never really met any Saypuri whose ambition didn’t keep them in the game in perpetuity.
    “So do you think,” says Mulaghesh, “that that’s possible?”
    “It’s … possible, certainly,” says Shara. “But I expect the Ministry will be a little confused.”
    “I don’t want a promotion,” says Mulaghesh. “I’ve got, what, two decades left of my life? Less? I want to take my bones someplace warm, Ambassador. And all this gamesmanship … I find it sickening nowadays.”
    “I will most certainly see what I can do to get that arranged.”
    Mulaghesh smiles a grin that would not look out of place on a shark. “Excellent. Then let’s get started.”
    * * *
    “I’ll tell you that this New Bulikov movement in the city has stirred up a big bucket of shit,” says Mulaghesh. “It’s been brewing for a while. People see there’s money to be made in modernization—in cooperation with Saypur, in other words—and they mean to make it. The rich folk in Bulikov, they don’t want to cooperate at all, and they make enough noise that the poor ones listen.”
    “What would this have to do with Dr.