“A toll door?” Yaozu’s eyebrows lifted very slightly. “A toll door … On the one hand, we couldn’t charge too much, or people would take the more dangerous ways around the wall. On the other hand, it could help offset some of the repairs I’m making out of my own pocket,” he grumbled. “If we wanted to get ambitious about it, we could call it a tax, not a toll.”

Rector frowned. “Could you do that? Tax, I mean? This ain’t a real city.”

Yaozu squinted unhappily, and Rector realized too late that he’d talked out of turn.

“Seattle is absolutely a ‘real city.’ We have real neighborhoods and shops, restaurants and facilities. We have a sheriff—I believe you’ve met her. She comes from a long line of them. Or a short line, perhaps; I can’t vouch for her lineage beyond Maynard, come to think of it. I’ve even been accused of being an informal mayor—which I find quite funny, and not altogether incorrect. Think of it, Rector: a woman sheriff and a Chinese mayor. The world would either laugh or cry.”

Rector thought the world might indeed laugh, but something told him it wouldn’t laugh long.

Yaozu continued. “Soon, we will have a real airship dock. The Doornails are absolutely giddy at the prospect of sending and receiving mail like civilized people. All these things are happening, Rector. Seattle is not dead. It is stirring, and we will bring it back around.”

Rector thought, but had the good sense not to say aloud, Under your control, I bet. “You’re right. I didn’t mean anything by it. You’ve got a lot of people down here, that’s for sure.”

“I wouldn’t say a lot,” Yaozu mused. “That’s rather the problem, really—and it relates to why you’re here in my office.”

“It does?”

“Yes. Seattle’s population hasn’t exactly boomed since the Boneshaker turned the Blight loose and the wall went up. We’ve always had more dead men than living ones here on the inside, but lately we’re running low on both.” He paused and pointed a finger between Rector’s eyes like a dagger. “That’s why you’re getting the clean slate, young man. If I could afford to be pickier, I would choose someone with a better reputation for usefulness.”

“But … isn’t that good? Being low on dead men? On the way here, I was talking with Zeke and Huey about how we hadn’t seen so many as we expected.”