staring sullenly at the Molè. It was a temple designed to humble. Its interlocking forms and its awful height entangled the eye until one forgot all truths and whichever weak god one was pledged to. Its stone demanded terrified worship.
Beside Leto lay the body of the Fuscus girl. The rain had washed the wound clean, and now it looked as if Leto had inserted the points into her neck without pain or protest. His stained robes gave the lie to that. Torbidda looked down and saw the smashed body of the other twin on the rocks below.
‘And Varro says you don’t know one end of a pair of compasses from the other.’
When Leto kept his eyes on the Molè, Torbidda said, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come to help earlier.’
At last Leto turned. ‘Madonna! You don’t have to explain! I know the rules – I’ve always know them. It’s folly to protect a weakling in a world where weakness kills. You figured that out for yourself, but I’ve heard stories about this place since I was young. I told myself that I could do things differently.’
‘You did good.’
‘I did what I had to. It’s not the same thing. It was easy, too. I did it the way you did Four: gave them a target, chose the day, chose the terrain. Easy.’
‘You’re being melodramatic. How many did you kill before you became a Cadet?’
‘… none.’
‘What do you think they’ve been training us for? If you get a chance to cull the competition you take it. Being guilty for being rational is foolish. You’re here; you have to fight, same as the rest of us. Of course you planned it. That’s what we do.’
Leto shakily got to his feet. ‘And there’s no escape.’
‘Of course there is: get through it,’ said Torbidda with a grin. ‘By the way, I’ll need my compasses back.’
As Torbidda scuttled back to the window, Leto yanked the instrument out. It came free easier than he’d expected, and he lost his footing, fell and began sliding down the vault roof, crying,
‘Ahhhahh!’
There was nothing to hold but curved wetness.
At the last second, Leto managed to grab the railing. He looked up and found Torbidda standing over him. His smile poorly disguised his fear. ‘That stuff about getting rid of competition – there’re
some
exceptions?’
Torbidda grasped his hand. ‘If you were competition, I’d have killed you long ago.’
CHAPTER 8
Grand Selector Flaccus hammered the notice onto the refectory door and strode away officiously. Lambs no more, the first-years gathered round to read it. Torbidda’s eyes dropped to the final condition:
Designs to be submitted anonymously
. Influence could get you into the Guild Halls, but the annual competition was to ensure that all Apprentice Candidates were engineers of genuine ability.
‘How come the second-years aren’t interested? They’re the only ones eligible.’
‘They read it last year,’ said Leto. ‘The challenge is always the same.’
That made sense; the commission that had brought Bernoulli to fame was the audacious one-span bridge that remained the city’s main entry point. There was nowhere to hide on a bridge. Designing one was the purest test of an engineer.
Torbidda and Leto were still discussing it when Agrippina sat down beside them. She tilted her head to the notice. ‘They say you’re an excellent draftsman.’
‘Not bad,’ said Torbidda. ‘What do you have in mind?’
‘I’m a better anatomist than an architect.’ She smiled in embarrassment. ‘Something lofty and grand, I suppose.’
‘That won’t get you noticed,’ said Leto. ‘That’s what you want, right?’
‘Who are you again?’ Agrippina said archly. ‘Oh yes, the Spinther boy. A mediocre engineer trading on his family name. Mind your own business.’ In the Halls’ hothouse rivalry,everyone kept abreast of their fellows’ talent.
‘Down, girl,’ said Torbidda. ‘Don’t be offended by her country manners, Leto.’
‘Oh, I’m not. I know my limitations. As do you, Signorina,
Beside Leto lay the body of the Fuscus girl. The rain had washed the wound clean, and now it looked as if Leto had inserted the points into her neck without pain or protest. His stained robes gave the lie to that. Torbidda looked down and saw the smashed body of the other twin on the rocks below.
‘And Varro says you don’t know one end of a pair of compasses from the other.’
When Leto kept his eyes on the Molè, Torbidda said, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come to help earlier.’
At last Leto turned. ‘Madonna! You don’t have to explain! I know the rules – I’ve always know them. It’s folly to protect a weakling in a world where weakness kills. You figured that out for yourself, but I’ve heard stories about this place since I was young. I told myself that I could do things differently.’
‘You did good.’
‘I did what I had to. It’s not the same thing. It was easy, too. I did it the way you did Four: gave them a target, chose the day, chose the terrain. Easy.’
‘You’re being melodramatic. How many did you kill before you became a Cadet?’
‘… none.’
‘What do you think they’ve been training us for? If you get a chance to cull the competition you take it. Being guilty for being rational is foolish. You’re here; you have to fight, same as the rest of us. Of course you planned it. That’s what we do.’
Leto shakily got to his feet. ‘And there’s no escape.’
‘Of course there is: get through it,’ said Torbidda with a grin. ‘By the way, I’ll need my compasses back.’
As Torbidda scuttled back to the window, Leto yanked the instrument out. It came free easier than he’d expected, and he lost his footing, fell and began sliding down the vault roof, crying,
‘Ahhhahh!’
There was nothing to hold but curved wetness.
At the last second, Leto managed to grab the railing. He looked up and found Torbidda standing over him. His smile poorly disguised his fear. ‘That stuff about getting rid of competition – there’re
some
exceptions?’
Torbidda grasped his hand. ‘If you were competition, I’d have killed you long ago.’
CHAPTER 8
Grand Selector Flaccus hammered the notice onto the refectory door and strode away officiously. Lambs no more, the first-years gathered round to read it. Torbidda’s eyes dropped to the final condition:
Designs to be submitted anonymously
. Influence could get you into the Guild Halls, but the annual competition was to ensure that all Apprentice Candidates were engineers of genuine ability.
‘How come the second-years aren’t interested? They’re the only ones eligible.’
‘They read it last year,’ said Leto. ‘The challenge is always the same.’
That made sense; the commission that had brought Bernoulli to fame was the audacious one-span bridge that remained the city’s main entry point. There was nowhere to hide on a bridge. Designing one was the purest test of an engineer.
Torbidda and Leto were still discussing it when Agrippina sat down beside them. She tilted her head to the notice. ‘They say you’re an excellent draftsman.’
‘Not bad,’ said Torbidda. ‘What do you have in mind?’
‘I’m a better anatomist than an architect.’ She smiled in embarrassment. ‘Something lofty and grand, I suppose.’
‘That won’t get you noticed,’ said Leto. ‘That’s what you want, right?’
‘Who are you again?’ Agrippina said archly. ‘Oh yes, the Spinther boy. A mediocre engineer trading on his family name. Mind your own business.’ In the Halls’ hothouse rivalry,everyone kept abreast of their fellows’ talent.
‘Down, girl,’ said Torbidda. ‘Don’t be offended by her country manners, Leto.’
‘Oh, I’m not. I know my limitations. As do you, Signorina,
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