I looked at the Iron Brotherhood ship and the eight people lining the rail with a mixture of amusement and irritation.

“Sorry boss, but they won’t get off the boat without talking to you,” Tommy said, a note of frustration in his voice. I walked up to the edge of the docks and looked at the eight. Four guards and four former slaves, two of them women, all with the same worried but determined look on their faces.

“What do you want?” I sighed.

“We claim Salvage,” the man who’d been asleep in the deckchair last night said. I nodded.

“All of you together?” The man looked at his companions who all nodded.

“Yes, all of us, we all claim equal shares.”

“Granted.” I said, the eight of them continued to look at me expectantly. I sighed. “I Xavier Costella, Governor of Trafalgar hereby grant you the right of Salvage over the vessel, currently known as the Iron Spike, its contents and its cargo and grant you free access to the River.” I looked at Blue and the two militia who’d accompanied us, they all looked at me blankly for a second before realising what was required of them.

“Heard and witnessed,” they chorused.

“Heard and witnessed,” the eight new ship owners droned and that was apparently all they needed to become the legal owners of a battleship. There would at some point be paperwork but it wasn’t going to involve me.

“Right, now that’s settled we would appreciate it if you would come back to the town. There is clean water, food, new clothes and you can all have a shower.” I said, omitting the fact they would also be given a medical and questioned.

“We need to leave someone on board…” one of the former slaves said reluctantly. I wondered how long it had been since any of them had eaten a decent meal.

I’ll leave these two here as sentries,” I said, gesturing to the two Militia. To my surprise, after a brief discussion the eight took my offer at face value and disembarked. As I walked back to the Rolls with Tommy, the Guard who’d woken up last night caught up with us.

“Thank you for giving us salvage rights, but… why? That vessel is worth a fortune.”

“It also needs a fortune spending on it. I don’t have the time, money or inclination to fix up another one of the Brotherhood’s battleships. Sooner rather than later you will realise BOAT is an acronym for Bung On Another Thousand.”

“The ‘Spike’s a ship,” the former guard pointed out.

“Make that bung on another ten thousand then. Do the engines work?”

“Yes. Well, they did a few weeks ago and there’s not much that can go wrong with a steam engine if you keep everything greased.”

“That’s not my experience. My advice to you is take it downstream to Genna and sell it for whatever you can get for it. The River Traders Guilds have an auction there every few weeks. I’ll get the Major to print out eight deeds of ownership when he has a moment…”

“Why can’t you do it?” The former Guard asked.

“I have an urgent appointment in Selamu Alu,” I said, getting into the Rolls. Tommy jumped into the passenger seat and we drove back down the track, the eight new ship owners trudging along behind.

“Do you even have the right to grant salvage here?” Tommy asked.

“I have a piece of paper signed by Marcus saying I have carte blanche to do whatever I see fit with the Iron Mountain for a year and a day.”

“So you don’t actually have to resettle the entire town?”

“You’ve seen how much food they had left. I could have have just left them to starve or, more likely die of thirst over the winter, then turned up in the spring to clear up the bodies.”

“You could have just left them with enough food and set up the water purification plant that Juan’s going to set up anyway, why do you need to move everyone?”

“Do you have any idea how much food and water two thousand people would consume before they were able to become self-sufficient again? It would be a major, ongoing logistical exercise to get that much food here, especially during the winter, not to mention the former slaves would probably slaughter their former masters the first chance they got. It’s far easier to move the people to where the food is. Not only that, they’ll all be split up into easy to monitor groups… What exactly is your problem here, Tommy?” Of all the people I thought would pull me up on this, I never thought Tommy would be the one, but then again he had been spending a lot of time with Ren and Ren had deep roots to this place.

“Ren says there’s been a settlement here for a thousand years… and you are just going to split everyone up and move them away? It sounds a very… Earth solution to a problem. I thought things were different here.” Tommy said.

“Yes. And in a year or so, once the farms are producing, once there is fresh water, if they want to return they can. There just won’t be any overseers anymore. Is Ren really unhappy?” I asked him. Tommy sighed again and shook his head.

“No, not really. At least I don’t think so. It’s been a long day… no, two days… I’ll feel better after some sleep.” I nodded as we approached the town. The huge bulk of Betty had been reversed up to sit by the gates but it overshadowed the walls like a Star Wars special effect that had escaped and gone rogue. I still couldn’t believe that not only had I managed to design and build what was effectively a functioning Jawa Sandcrawler but it had made it from the Holy City to the Iron Mountain on a road that hadn’t been used for at least a century and a half with no serious problems and on schedule. It hadn’t even been that hard to build, the hardest part had been getting the four Challenger tank hulls through the Gateway

I drove into the courtyard that showed little evidence of the brief battle that had taken place only a couple of hours ago. A tent encampment had arisen around an old restaurant, the radio was playing and there was the smell of cooking meat, a couple of loose queues wound around the tents as small children darted about.

More people sat at tables eating or comparing bits of paper, a few were dressed in smart casual Earth style clothing, some were dressed in elaborate Victorian style clothing, others were in little more than rags. They were watched by my uniformed Militia who to my relief looked relaxed and unconcerned, a couple were even talking with the crowd. The atmosphere felt nothing like any of the fallen towns or refugee camps I’d experienced in my life before, it was more optimistic, relieved even, than the sullen, defeated atmosphere I’d expected.

I parked the Rolls as close as I dared to the tents, getting a few started looks in the process and told Tommy to go get some rest and he disappeared into the tents. As I got out of the car there was a susurration from the crowd, as if a major A list star had appeared in their midst. I was used to people staring at me, I was as famous as people got on this planet after all, but this was different, almost worshipful. As I followed the smell of cooking to the restaurant some of the people in the queue dropped to their knees, others reached out to touch me, not to hold me back just to brush my clothes. I grit my teeth and entered the restaurant, the queue turning to look at me expectantly. Fortunately no one was sitting down and eating, instead the served people were making their way out a side door. To one side a couple of the Militia were handing out cups of steaming tea.

“Hi boss, want a burger?” Deadly asked me from behind the counter, handing me a burger he had just been about to give to an old lady. I gave her a look of apology but she merely bowed and gestured for me to take it. My mouth watered, the last time I’d eaten had been in Florida.

“I don’t want to take someone else’s food. I was looking for the Major,”

“Don’t worry about that, most of these people are returning for seconds. The Major’s upstairs. I nodded, took the burger then passed through a doorway guarded by a couple of sentries and ascended the stairs. The Major had set up shop in the old VIP area that gave excellent views over the square. To one side several of the militia monitored security screens, it looked like the engineers had managed to tap into the Command Centre’s feeds. I ate the burger watching the screens glimpsing empty streets, occupied cells and interrogations being carried out. Major Dan handed me a large, steaming mug of coffee. I looked at the logo, a mailed fist with ‘The Iron Brotherhood,’ written in suitably dramatic lettering beneath.

“All sorted?” He asked.

“Yeah, they just wanted to claim salvage.”

“And you gave it to them?”

“Yes. I don’t have time to mess around. Print out some official looking deeds of ownership then get ‘em out of here and down to the River before they have time to do any recruiting. I don’t want an ironclad out there with anything more than a skeleton crew.”

“I shall make expediting their departure a priority.”

“Excellent. Any other problems you need my delicate touch with before I bugger off?”

“No, it’s all remarkably calm out there. We’ve rounded up all the people on your wanted list, isolated a few troublemakers and left the few hold outs to stew in their own juices until reinforcements arrive. Oh… Juan says he needs to show you something, I get the impression it’s something you need to see.”

“Is he still inspecting the steelworks?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll pop by and see him. Have you seen Ren anywhere?”

“In the room down there at the end, having a nap… with that woman you’ve made your seneschal.” I raised my eyebrows at this, walked down the hall to the room at the end and opened the door to an elegant private reception room. I smiled at the sight of the two of them curled up on a large sofa, Red, looking young and vulnerable, dressed in Earth jeans and a fluffy jumper fast asleep on Ren who looked angular and tough next to Red’s delicate beauty, seemingly phasing more to the masculine side of their androgyny and snoring gently. I was just about to close the door when Ren’s eyes opened.

“Sorry, no don’t get up,” I said quietly as Ren gently extracted themself from Red who barely stirred. We shut the door quietly behind us.

“I thought you might have questions about why everyone’s staring at you?”

“More than staring. It’s like I arrived from heaven on a pillar of fire…” I thought for a moment and kicked myself for the missed opportunity, “... Damn, we should have brought the jetpacks.” Ren’s mouth quirked.

“I am very glad we didn’t. Those things are terrifying and you didn’t need to. People are treating you like they are because you are the chosen one, you fulfilled Callis’ prophecy.”

“Prophecy?” I asked. Ren looked at me and smiled.

“Oh yes, he prophesied many times that upon his death a new Avatar of the Spirit would arise upon his death to avenge Bonner’s corruption of the Iron Mountain and bring the evil Overseers to justice.”

“Everything I hear about Callis makes him sound like bit of a liability to the Iron Brotherhood. Why didn’t they just lock him up and only bring him out when they wanted the Gateway opened? It sounds like he was free to wander the streets saying what he liked.”

“Oh, he was. He told Bonner he wouldn’t open the Gateway if he wasn’t allowed to preach to his flock. Most of the Overseers thought he was mad, they didn’t think anyone would pay attention to him and Callis was careful to keep up that act whilst all the time doing everything he could to support the underground. I am honoured to have been his disciple.”

“Are there any other prophecies I need to fulfil before I leave?”

“No… but you could visit his grave to honour his memory. It's become a bit of a shrine...” I nodded, if anyone’s grave deserved a visit Callis’ did.

Five minutes later I was in a square in the slave quarters standing before a surprisingly elaborate tomb, almost reminiscent of a mediaeval saints’ On Ren’s recommendation it had been the only area of the outer town left accessible and twenty or thirty people were gathered respectfully around it. The tomb stood as high as me… the same height as the Gateway opening, constructed out of snowy white blocks. The three steps leading up to the tomb were filled with candle stubs and wildflowers and a few candles flickered fitfully in the dull light. I wondered how the hell the Overseers had allowed something as provocative as this to be built right under their noses.

The four Militia assigned to guard the area were acting more like a formal honour guard for the tomb rather than guards stopping people trying to access the rest of the outer town. The crowd stirred as I walked up to the tomb and the Militia came to attention. I ascended the steps and rested my head on the cool white stone guessing a bit of a show was in order.

“It is done. You can rest in peace now old friend.” I murmured, making sure my voice was loud enough to carry to the nearest spectators, then I walked backwards down the stairs, bowed, took a picture, sending it to Amos, then walked back to the car with Ren. Strangely, I felt better, as if a weight was lifted from my shoulders.

“Thank you. It means a lot to us, acknowledging Callis.”

“He has been unfairly maligned, he is one of the few Avatars in recent times I have respect for. He died a terrible death too.”

“You heard about that?” They asked. I nodded, giving an involuntary shudder.

“I experienced it. The Spirit really wanted him avenged.” Ren put a reassuring hand on my arm as I continued, “You know, The Iron Mountain is a really shit name for a town. We should rename it Callis.”

“That would be good. How do we go about doing that?”

“Petition the new Emperor… actually, no, get Amos to petition the new Emperor.”

“Who’s Amos?” Ren asked, frowning.

“The Holy Father. I reckon he’ll be well up for that. If you can liaise with him, you are Callis’ disciple…” I trailed off when I saw Ren’s expression.

“...You don’t just liaise with the Holy Father… or call him by his first name, even if you knew him before. You have to petition for an audience, it takes weeks.” I sighed and nodded. In our last phone conversation, Amos had complained it was a nightmare getting to speak with anyone other than his Church flunkies

“Not if you have his personal phone number,” I said, smiling as I held up my phone, showing a picture of the holiest man on this planet balancing his hat of office on his official staff. Rem laughed.

“Okay, if he’s such a good friend, you talk to him.”

“Fine, I’ll do it when I get back. Now, where’s the steelworks? Apparently Juan wants to show me something.” We got back in the Rolls and Ren directed me out the back of the outer town, through several gates we had to unlock and push open, then down a tunnel big enough for a large truck to pass through. Black cables the thickness of my arm were attached to the ceiling and on one side a monorail rail ran.

The tunnel opened directly into the steelworks which was relatively small compared to the ones I’d seen on Earth. It had obviously been unused for some time, piles of ore stood waiting to be processed, there was even a pile of what, on inspection turned out to be soggy charcoal. We wandered around the weed strewn, abandoned site looking for Juan, eventually finding him on a low rise. We joined him and for a moment we stood quietly with him, taking in the view.

I knew some pretty intensive mining had taken place over the last few decades and I’d seen how intensive mining could fuck up a perfectly good ecosystem. We’d run calculations on how much iron the Iron Brotherhood would have needed to build their fleet, we’d also worked out how much charcoal they would have needed to power the blast furnace. In both cases the result was, by Amur standards, some very big numbers. Enough charcoal would have been needed that someone, somewhere in Midriver should have noticed lots of wood being harvested or transported but neither the Imperial Intelligence services nor our more informal enquiries had uncovered anything.

The valley before us was completely man made stretching for several miles in a slight curve and had an unnaturally square, long, rectangular lake down the middle. The terraced sides of the valley were forested, the trees pollarded and obviously where the charcoal had come from. There was a flat, clear area on both sides of the lake dedicated to agriculture, far greener than the surrounding countryside outside the valley. It was strangely, artificially beautiful, like a 1960s era futuristic vision of what a colony would be like on another planet, which, I suppose, it was. The monorail even snaked around the lake but there was a complete lack of houses, or for that matter, buildings of any kind. Obviously the Overseers hadn’t trusted anyone to stay in the valley.

“I’ve missed this view,” Juan said.

“It's not what I was expecting,” I replied truthfully. I’d been expecting square kilometres of landscape destroyed by open cast mining, not a sci-fi utopian landscape.

“The buggers shut down the blast furnace.”

“Yes, I noticed. That’s going to be a pain to start up again.”

“It's not going to be a priority for a while. Come with me, I wanted you to see this before you left.”

We followed Juan down a weed covered track made to take large vehicles, to a huge sliding door in the side of one of the terraces. It took all three of us to push it open a crack and squeeze inside.

We found ourselves in a massive semi-circular tunnel, we all brought out our phones, turned on our torches and looked around. The space was a vast echoing tunnel, disappearing into the darkness, giving the impression it was endless. A battered, industrial forklift stood parked to one side, the rest of the space was filled with crude wooden shelving and on that shelving was steel bars and ingots, thousands upon thousands of them. I’d expected a large stockpile of iron, but nothing on this scale. In a place where the scarcity of metals was at the heart of the economic system, this represented untold wealth.

“What did Bonner intend using this much steel for?” I asked.

“I don’t actually know. Maybe destabilising the Midriver economy?” Juan said, not sounding convinced.

“There wasn’t any evil scheme or masterplan, they industrialised the mining process then didn’t know how to stop. The Overseers were terrified of the Indentured Workers sitting around all day with nothing to do so they just kept them working… Until Trafalgar ...” Ren tailed off. I nodded.

“We need to seal this place up. The new Emperor is the only person who has the authority to make decisions about this. This means no one needs to know about what is here.” I said.

“Our lips are sealed, not that I’m going to have many people to talk to,” Juan said with a smile. Ren nodded in agreement. We shut up the warehouse, I gave Ren and Juan a lift back to the town, I dropped Juan at the restaurant, then before Ren had a chance to get out I held them back.

“Do you know what happened between Juan and Red last night?” I asked. Ren smiled.

“Yes,” they answered smugly. I waited for a second before I realised nothing else was to be forthcoming.

“Is Red okay?”

“Red is very much okay. What happened between those two is none of your business. Or are you planning to bring them both up on charges of Moral Corruption?” Ren replied defensively. I laughed.

“What about Tommy? He seems to be spending a lot of time with you.” To my surprise, for the first time that I’d known them, Ren looked embarrassed.

“I find Tommy interesting, I like his company, he likes my company. Is that a crime for someone like me on Earth?” I shrugged.

“Probably somewhere, but that’s not what I meant, he raised the issue of us relocating everyone. Is this something you put him up to?”

“What… Oh no, not me. I know you’ve done some serious soul searching about what you’re doing but I’ve always thought this was the best solution. This place was always too isolated, too insular, even before Bonner turned up and corrupted everything.” Ren laid a hand on my arm. “I think you’re doing the right thing.”

“Thanks, that means a lot. Now go, do your disciple thing. I have an Emperor to find and bring home.”

“Have fun,” they said and I finally got to drive back to the Gateway. The area around it was a hive of activity, there was the smell of diesel and the ground was sodden. Warrk was loading up a battered truck without a roof with water barrels as Natalie struggled to fill another barrel with a thick hose that disappeared into the Gateway.

She saw me and gestured to the Militia helping her to take over, then almost fell into the Rolls. She looked tired and pale.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yes. just tired.”

“And who’s fault is that?” She gave me a smile and hit me playfully. I drove the Rolls back through the Gateway into the cellar, pulled the hose back then Natalie closed the Gateway. I went around turning off lights then we went back upstairs looking forward to a shower and a change of clothes.

There was a well-dressed, skinny, white man sitting on the sofa in the great room. I did a double take. “What the fuck are you doing here James?” I asked.

“That’s a nice way to greet your oldest friend. And after all I’ve done for you. Hello Nat,” James said, getting up to greet Natalie.

“Ignore him, he’s just tired and grumpy,” Natalie said, giving James a peck on the cheek then disappearing up the stairs, leaving me to deal with our intruder.

“So, how did it go?” James asked.

“Actually, better than expected. Mission accomplished, etcetera, etcetera.” I said tiredly collapsing on a sofa.

“The sand crawler?” he asked, handing me a coffee. I gave him a grin.

“Everything I could have hoped for… and more. It was magnificent. But my question stands, what the fuck are you doing here and does Fiona know?”

“Fiona knows I’m in the States. Ostensibly I’m liasing with the FBI, the phrase ‘synergistic cooperation’ is being used extensively, the Agency might even be put on their list of Approved Contractors, but the real reason I’m here is to get you to Amarillio without anyone noticing.”

“And how do you propose doing that?”

“There is a private jet standing by to whisk you to Amarillo and then, instead of the initial plan we had for location B… you’re going to love this…”

“As the plan for location B was breaking and entering, I am willing to consider an alternative strategy.” I said cautiously.

“Good. Fire up your proton pack, we’re going ghost hunting.”