Silkwash: Cloudspans, #1

By Angeline Trevena

Mads Cole's life was already difficult. Now it's downright dangerous.

 

Raising a child alone alongside a gruelling apprenticeship is hard enough. But their city sits above the vast cavern of a confined titan reptilia: one of the gigantic, ancient creatures that once sought to eradicate mankind.

 

And when her employer gives her a new assignment, a pay rise, and a threat to keep her mouth shut, she finds herself part of a corporate plot to unearth the titan. A plot with potentially deadly consequences.

 

She's buckling under the pressure, and needs people she can trust, but it seems that everyone has their secrets.

 

Can Mads untangle the lies before the fallout tears her world apart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maythorne Press
• Release date: Mar 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393711650

Book preview

1

Mads had loved Dante. She was sure of it. Or perhaps it was just easier to love him now that he was dead. Now her love carried no responsibilities, no expectations. Now she could love her memory of him, rather than the person he actually became.

She had burnt the black-edged letter almost as soon as she’d received it; reading no further than the first line. It was ostentatiously printed onto thick, expensive paper, as if the honour of receiving such a thing might ease the pain of her loss. Her husband. Her freedom.

Sometimes she managed to convince herself that the letter had never arrived. In those moments, she could turn her face towards the far-off forests and almost believe she could breathe in the scent of him. His sweat. His breath. The dust on his clothes and hair.

She rubbed her eyes, pressing her hands in hard enough to bruise her vision.

Focus, she whispered, frowning at the words in her text book. They jumped around, sliding across the page, transforming meaning into nonsense. With a grunt, she pushed the book aside, snatching up another can of Hypenergy. She raised the can to the air. Cheers, she said. You bastard! Why did she feel so angry? Why, out of everything she could be feeling, was she burning with such fury?

Downing the rest of the can, Mads let the sickly sweet liquid sit in her mouth for a moment, enjoying the bubbles, if not the taste. She tossed the can over her shoulder, not caring where it landed, then swallowed with a grimace. Easing open her desk drawer, she dug through the mess of stationery and pulled out a small bottle. Unscrewing the lid revealed a dropper, attached inside. Mads tipped her head back and held one eye open, allowing a single drip of clear liquid to fall. She blinked several times, breathing deeply, waiting for the rush.

Had Dante ever paid enough attention to find her stash, he would have been furious at the waste. And he’d have let her know about it with his fists. He hadn’t always been like that. The forests had changed him over the years. Made him forget himself.

A small bottle of diamond cost almost the same as a span’s rent. It took Mads months to save enough spare money, but it was the only thing she got for herself. Her one luxury. She’d been given her first bottle by her brother-in-law in celebration of getting her apprenticeship. He’d referred to it as an ‘essential study aid’. Of course she’d also tried it as a teenager, as most people had. It was a drug for the rich, highly addictive, and it destroyed a lot of people. She’d seen it. Desperate addicts were everywhere.

Mads blinked again as the room around her came into ultra-focus. Every edge sharpened, every colour deepened; the shadows seemed like holes into the earth itself. She could actually feel her pupils dilating, sucking the world in. She looked at the textbook once more. Better. One more hour, and she’d go to bed. That was, if she hadn’t screwed any chance of sleep with the diamond.

She closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the rush, listening to the sounds of the night. She could hear Grace sleeping in the next room, her breath coming deep and steady. Outside, she could hear the buzz of the neon city: the hum of trams, the low rumble of industry that never stopped. Beyond that, she was sure she could hear The Knot, shifting around, deep in the earth. Perhaps she could even hear Altar City, its machines eating their way through the trees. She shook the thoughts from her head, and pulled her textbook back to her.

No apprenticeship was easy. The jobs tended to be full-time and the academic side of things was expected to be done outside of work. It wasn’t meant to work like that, of course. Employers were supposed to give allowances to apprentices, support them through their training. It all depended on who you were, of course. Or more accurately, who you weren’t. And Mads wasn’t anyone.

It was an old-school industry with old-fashioned values, and it stubbornly clung to them. Still, whinging about it wouldn’t help. That’s why she had to work twice as hard as her male peers. And do twice as well as them, despite the hostility it attracted.

Pushing back her chair, Mads stood and crossed to her daughter’s bedroom. Whenever she lost heart, whenever the apprenticeship seemed more trouble than it was worth, that she should just take her mother’s offer of an easier life, she would look at Grace. Remind herself why she was doing this. Remind herself that she wanted Grace to have more choices than the world would willingly give.

Mads sighed deeply. How would she tell her that her father had died? Not that Grace was likely to mourn him too much; she’d only seen him a handful of times since she was born. But the death of her father meant an end to their independence. It meant that Mads had failed her in a fundamental way. They could carry on for a few more days, at least. Continue the façade. But the life they knew was over the second that letter arrived. Mads felt the need to prepare herself better, to find the right moment before breaking the news.

Turning, she glared back at the open textbook. Its thin, brittle pages full of other people’s notes. Sometimes it felt like her whole life was borrowed from someone else. Second-hand. Pre-used. She raked her hands back through her hair.

Come on, she said, gritting her teeth. Just one more hour.

2

You look like shit, Abe Cleveland said as he stepped through the gatekeeper.

Thanks, replied Mads. As she crossed the threshold herself, the device registered her ID with a double-click. One click for men, two for women. If you wanted to identify as anything else, join the campaign.

Rough night?

Hit the books a bit too hard, that’s all.

Abe took hold of her chin, tilting her face towards the fluorescent lights. Looks like it wasn’t just the books you were hitting. That shit’ll mess you up, Mads.

Mads pulled out of his reach. I’m fine. It’s only now and again.

That’s what everyone says. At the start. Are you good to work?

Of course I am, she snapped.

He patted her shoulder. Hey, I know how hard it is for you in here, but you’ve earned your place. Don’t screw it up for a bit of clarity. Yeah?

Mads gave him a tight smile. Yeah. I’m sorry. Just sleep deprived.

I hope that’s all it is. But I’m here if you need to talk, and I won’t judge you. Believe me, I’m in no position to do that.

The image of the letter flared in Mads’ memory; the look of sympathy on the carrier’s face, the bold, black edging on the envelope embossed with the Booth & Boone logo.

I said it’s nothing, she replied quickly. Just tiredness.

Well, come on then. I’m still your supervisor.

I have the nicest boss, she teased, back on firmer ground with banter.

Don’t think it means you can slack off, Cole. I’ll be working you as hard as anyone else would. Harder. He grinned at her. Now, suit up, he barked.

Mads jumped to attention, flicking an ironic salute. Sir, yes, sir!

Silverworth Industries didn’t provide separate changing rooms for women. Their sole compromise had been the creation of a narrow space between a wall and a line of lockers, offering a pitiful illusion of privacy. Over the years, that space had become narrower, with barely enough room to stand with their hands on their hips, but they didn’t complain. They didn’t need reminding that they ‘didn’t belong here’; that came with the territory. It was the price of admission.

On Mads’ first day of work, she had been hauled into the manager’s office. You’re here by my grace and generosity, he announced, and that is a finite resource. If you want to stay, you’ll keep your mouth shut and your eyes open. He forestalled any discussion with a raised hand. Don’t cause any fuss or draw attention to yourself, just get on with the job. If I hear of any trouble from you, you’re out. No second chances. Understand? It was a well-rehearsed speech, clearly given to all the female employees. And only the female ones. She’d bitten her tongue and nodded her head.

Behind the lockers, Mads stripped to her underwear before hauling on her heavy overalls. She fastened her bulky boots, and tied her hair up under her cap.

Iva York nodded a greeting as she rounded the corner into their narrow space. Alright, Cole?

Alright, York, Mads replied.

Iva was tiny and slight, but she had the strength of a horse. No one knew where it came from, but it earned her a level of respect none of the other women had. She was an invaluable worker, able to squeeze into the smallest spaces and still loosen a seized bolt. She was commonly called from her own work to help others with theirs.

Family okay? Iva asked.

Yep, yours?

Oh, y’know. He’s still thinking all this is just a phase I’m going through. She held up her overalls. Still thinks I’m gonna give it all up to pop out some sprogs then spend the rest of my life tidying up after them. She rolled her eyes. I mean, seriously—do these look like child-bearing hips to you?

Mads laughed. You stick to your guns, girl.

Don’t you worry, I will.

Iva pressed her nose against the lockers as Mads squeezed past. Work hard, Cole.

Always do, York.

The corridor outside was busy as Mads joined the jostling flow of engineers moving toward the main shaft. She peeled off as the corridor split, almost skipping towards the diagnostics room.

This was where she loved to be. Numbers were black and white. Non-emotional. Measurements and calculations were either right or wrong. Get them right and you might discover a rich mineral deposit, or an underground pool. Of course, if you got them wrong you could kill a team of engineers, or drop an entire city district into a gaping hole. Secretly, Mads enjoyed the pressure. The sense of extreme responsibility.

Enjoy your leisurely stroll down here? Abe asked, looking up from his screens with a wink.

Mads dropped into the seat next to him. Had to fix my hair and make-up. Not all of us can roll out of bed looking perfect like you.

Ah, you see? That’s why I like working with you. You know how to suck up to your superiors.

Superiors? Mads leant over and flicked his dog tag. That still says ‘apprentice’, you know.

He tapped it. Level 4. Still two years ahead of you. Besides, that’s not the only way in which I’m superior.

Mads snorted. You weren’t so superior when I drank you under the table at The Spider the other night. Or when I beat you at arm wrestling.

Abe waved a dismissive hand at her. I let my juniors win sometimes. It helps with morale.

Mads swung her elbow sideways, aiming to hit Abe in the chest, but he caught it easily with an upraised palm then flicked her arm away.

You student, me teacher, he said, clapping his hands together. Let’s get to work before you start thinking you’re getting the whole day off.

3

I’m so sorry I’m late, honey, Mads called out as she clattered into the apartment. She dropped her coat over the back of the sofa and listened for a moment. Grace? Only silence. Grace?

She turned, noting the absence of her daughter’s coat and bag on her peg. She strode to the bedrooms, and looked in. No sign of her.

Yo! she said aloud. Call Mammie. Grace had changed their gatekeeper’s wake-word to ‘Yo!’ as a joke, and no one had ever bothered changing it back.

Madalyn. Her mother’s voice through the speakers embedded in the walls. Omnipresent. You’re back late. I wondered when you might get around to checking up on your daughter.

She’s with you?

Of course she is.

Mads exhaled as she dropped onto the sofa. You could have left a message, Mammie. I was worried.

Well, it’s nice of you to finally pick up your parenting duties. Your poor daughter called me, starving hungry, so I told her to jump on the hummer and come over.

She travelled alone on the trams?

She’s twelve years old, Madalyn. She’s perfectly capable. I was riding them alone when I was three.

Mads rolled her eyes. There’s food here; she could have fixed herself something.

She’s a child, and she shouldn’t have to. Honestly, you treat her more like a housemate than a daughter. She’s grown up way too fast.

Well, according to you she’s old enough to ride the trams alone, Mads muttered.

"She’s had to be too self reliant, with her father not around, and you working such long hours. Still, she’s here now, safe and sound, so there’s no harm done. You may as well come over yourself and have something to eat. There’s plenty to go around. And it’s far better