Day 3

‘Where are you going?’ Riot asked, glancing up at Sham over the morning paper. She sipped tea from a minute cup—the same size cup she’d offered Sham and had him looking for more. His back was sore, oddly, from the posher bed in Riot’s spare room, his body somehow acclimatised now to the mess of springs that he called—had called—a mattress.

‘Haven’t you memorised that thing by now?’ Sham replied, ignoring the question.

‘I recall it all on re-read, yes,’ Riot said. ‘But this is the first time that I’ve cast my eyes over it with a particular focus in mind.’

‘...Which is?’

‘Breaking the Loop.’

‘I see,’ Sham said, ‘Any luck?’

She answered first with a shake of the head, then, ‘No. Nothing we don’t already know. Whispers of the Citizen’s Police being hurriedly formed, arrests all around the city.’

‘The Legion?’ Sham asked.

Riot nodded. ‘Arresting all those that Enoch knows remembers the Loop. Would have been your fate too, if not…’

‘If not for the convenient case of mistaken identity, yeah. I know I’ve been a bit jammy there, don’t you worry.’

‘Hmm,’ Riot said, returning her attention to the paper.

Sham made another move towards the door and then heard, an ‘Ooh!’ from behind, which made him turn. ‘What is it?’ he asked.

Riot twisted the Sunrise Gazette around so that Sham could see. ‘House of Pankhurst coming to town!’

The Harbour District resident stared blankly. ‘House of…? How can a house come to town?’

‘A fashion house, Sham.’

Sham shrugged. ‘Does it matter what type of house it is? Never known a building that was easy to move.’

‘A…’ Riot started, her face blank, unable for whatever reason to process Sham’s question. ‘Not the building itself, Sham. The… the products, the designs. The metaphorical house. Known for their handbags but a recent foray into accessories is really where there…’ She trailed off when she noticed that Sham’s face was as blank as hers had been moments earlier. ‘You have no interest in this whatsoever, do you?’

‘I’ve never had too much option what clothes I wear,’ he replied. When Riot’s face softened from the smile that the approaching fashion brand had drawn from her, he feigned some interest. ‘When’s it getting here, then? This house?’

‘19th Harvest.’

‘So…’

Riot licked her lips, nodded. ‘Six days after the Loop resets, yes.’

‘Well, a nice reward in store for you if we succeed then?’

‘Don’t say that.’

Sham raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t say what?’

‘“If”,’ she replied. ‘We’re going to succeed. It might just… Take a while.’

Sham raised the other eyebrow. ‘Yeah. Sure.’ He turned for the door.

‘You didn’t tell me—where are you going?’

‘It’s the 7th Harvest. About time I met with Asa again, isn’t it?’

Riot paused for a moment, then carefully folded the newspaper back up and placed it down on the countertop in front of her. ‘Asa?’ she repeated. ‘You’re going to get another skill vial?’

‘You heard your brother. Only way to stop this Loop is to stop Julya, it seems. And without skills… we don’t stand all that much of a chance, do we?’

‘Sham…’ The tone of Riot’s voice wasn’t promising.

‘What? You don’t think I can take it?’

‘I’m not sure I do, either,’ Recollection murmured.

Riot licked her lips in that way she did when she was taking a moment to consider her response. ‘That response would suggest you don’t, either. For your mind to jump to that…’

[INTROSPECTION] THE JUMPED MIND: FAIL

Nope. There’s nothing to hear here. You know yourself better than Riot does—after all, this woman was a total stranger not all that long ago, wasn’t she?

‘It’s fine,’ Sham said. ‘I’m fine. If it gets us out of this bloody Loop, then… It’s fine, Riot.’

Riot pressed her lips together with enough force to suggest that she didn’t think it was fine, but she didn’t push the matter any further.

With a goodbye expressed in the form of a shallow smile, Sham left the apartment.

Sham took his time as he ambled across half the length of the city to his destination at the very far side of the Harbour District. He took in the sights, the sounds, the smells—though that last was probably a mistake, especially in the Harbour District—safe in the knowledge that he had all the time in the world. The only thing that would stop him having infinite time was the Loop breaking, in which case, anything he’d planned to do next was rendered entirely moot.

He watched as a tram rattled on by, sparks flying from the pan as it bounced away from and back into contact with the overhead line. Men and women in suits hurried about their business, off to work, or off home, depending on their shifts. A shining metal automobile growled as it passed through the parting pedestrian traffic.

A MOMENT OF HAPPINESS (JOY)

Would you look at this beautiful naiveté? None of them remember the truth; all of them are blissfully unaware of the Loop. Yet they continue down the same old path, the path that destiny has written for them, the path that their coding compels from them. All is normal in Haven, and yet nothing is.

Finally Sham arrived at the increasingly familiar warehouse on End Street, and blagged his way inside. One thing that held true on every Loop—no matter the interference from anyone else who remembered them—was that the guards here, at this warehouse, didn’t dare costing their boss. And that was exactly what Sham was posing as the alternative.

The warehouse guard led Sham through the sliding doors, then told the visitor to wait where he was, down in the centre of the chamber with the ramparts and the office hanging from the roof above. Sham took the opportunity to sit himself on top of a nearby crate—an action that the guard’s grimace suggested they didn’t like.

Asa announced his arrival with a loud cough.

‘Asa,’ Sham said.

The criminal entrepreneur said nothing, but wore an amused smile.

‘I know you don’t know me, but I’m here because I think we can lend each other a hand.’

‘Not often that I…’ Asa started, then paused, seeming to search for the words, ‘...get strangers in here.’

‘Exactly what he said last time…’

‘No,’ Sham replied, treading the same path as he trodden many times before, ‘and you’d know that anyone who wanted to hurt you wouldn’t wander in here like I just did.’

Asa nodded, remaining quiet, pointedly looking Sham up and down. Sham always thought, at this point, that Asa was making skill checks of his own. Identifying Sham’s weaknesses, maybe? Or sizing up just how much he was telling the truth?

‘You were saying you could help me out?’ Asa asked.

‘Yeah. I was saying we could help each other out. Or would you trust a man who came in here saying he’d help you for nothing in return?’

Asa smiled. ‘No. I suppose not. Well, then, I think we better talk in my office, Sham.’ He turned on his heel, began towards the metal stairwell leading up to the offices in the ramparts.

Sham had just started following Asa when he practically felt the other man’s failed skill check. For all of Asa’s cunning, and smarts, even with as high a grade level Heart of Janus skill that Asa surely had… Even the masters could fail a skill check, sometimes.

Asa came to a sudden halt a couple of paces later. Caught himself. ‘Ah,’ he said.

‘I don’t think I intro—’

The criminal waved his reply away. ‘Yeah, yeah. Aite. Suppose we’d really better talk in my office then, ain’t we?’

In silence, under the confused gazes of Asa’s employees, the two men continued up the staircase and into Asa’s office. Neither of them said a word, but the host ambled over to a cupboard in the corner of the room and pulled from it a couple of glasses.

‘I’m not drinking,’ Sham said.

Asa raised an eyebrow, nodded, and poured a glass of whisky only for himself. ‘Yeah, best you don’t, I suppose. That Joy skill do you some good, I take it?’ He studied Sham from over the rim of an amber glass.

‘Not as much as you’d think.’

‘Stopped drinking though, eh? It’s pulled you out of that one.’

Sham shrugged. ‘Not sure it’s Joy so much as the fear of what I’d do this time, if I drank again.’

‘A little of column A, a little of column B, my love.’

Asa pulled a face that suggested he didn’t agree with Sham, but said nothing more of it. ‘So what’s it going to be, this time? Magnetism? That’s what you wanted last time, weren’t it? Or something else? Reasoning? Fluke?’

‘You’re so keen to ply me with more skills.’

‘What’s the worst that can happen?’ Asa replied.

‘I go insane.’

The criminal shrugged. ‘Exactly. And then someone else comes along, don’t they? Destiny pushes some other stupid fuck in your place, eventually.’

Sham eyed up the half-full glass of whisky on Asa’s desk. It looked… tempting.

‘Grab it!’ Vigour suggested.

‘Are we just going to gloss over it, then?’

‘Over what?’ Asa replied.

‘That you been lying to me. That you remember the Loops.’

Asa sighed, gulped down the last of the whisky before responding. ‘Was planning on it, yeah.’

‘How long you remembered them? From before I did?’

The man across the desk nodded. ‘Long before. Best I can tell? I got the Recollection skill right at the beginning, I did.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s a legendary skill,’ Asa replied. ‘Why do you think? I want strength, me.’

‘No,’ Sham said. ‘Not that. I get that. I get the appeal of the vials—’

‘Thank you,’ the three living skills said in unison.

‘—but what I don’t get is why you picked Recollection. Why not Vigour? Why not Cognizance? Why… why Recollection?’

Asa said nothing for a moment, and then rose from his seat to return to the cabinet—and the bottle of whisky. ‘You know what’s great?’ he said as he poured. ‘This bottle here? Costs a fucking arm and a leg. Couldn’t’ve expected to see more than one of these in my whole life. But with the Loop? I’ve drunk it more times than I ever thought I would.’

‘Why Recollection, Asa?’ Sham asked, pushing the point.

The criminal took another large swig of alcohol, and sighed. ‘My dad, see… Towards the end, there, he didn’t remember nothing. And there was talk of his dad going that way too. I don’t want that for myself, so what do I do? I take a bloody Recollection, don’t I?’

Sham nodded to himself. ‘Makes sense.’

‘Fuck, yeah it makes sense. You wouldn’t like it much neither if you thought you were gonna start forgetting shit.’

‘I guess I just…’ Sham started, waving his hands in the air as if gesturing to a surrounding madness. ‘I guess I just don’t get it. Not the choice of Recollection, but… why keep giving me these vials? Why keep…’

Sham trailed off, not quite sure where to start. Then a thought—possibly provided to him by Recollection—occured, and held itself at the forefront of Sham’s mind.

‘Wait… but if you remember everything, why bother getting the plans to the Tower again and again and again?’

‘I might remember, yeah,’ Asa replied. ‘But they ain’t for me, are they? Some day the Loop is gonna break, and… I don’t wanna have failed my new associates. Who knows what they’d do?’

Sham nodded. ‘Elmira,’ he said.

‘Yeah. But ain’t you let Gres hear you call her that.’ Asa made a mouth from his right hand, put on a mocking posh accent. ‘That’s Queen Elmira to you, Asa, scum. Best you let us gentleman talk to her. Best you stick to what you’re good at: thieving and killing and all that stuff.’

Sham found himself leaning forwards, pushing his face into his hands. All this time-looping business was really starting to give him the worst headaches.

‘You sure it’s that, my lovely?’

‘You sure it isn’t just getting a tad full, up in here?’

‘I’m sorry, I just…’ Sham started, raising his face from his hands.

Asa watched on, mouth pressed tight, eyes studying Sham.

‘It’s all too much. My mind can’t… can’t comprehend all this. I can’t even think of the right questions to ask. I just…’ He slumped his head back into his hands once more.

‘Look,’ Asa said. ‘The thing about this whisky is—this fucking amazing whisky that I never thought I’d have more than once—the thing about it is: I’m fucking sick of it. I’m sick of drinking this same bottle over and over. Sick of the same few days over and over. You really wanna know? You really wanna know my role in all this? Then, sure, I’ll tell you. But, afterwards? I’m gonna need you to hurry up and break this fucking Loop.’