But nothing was the same; everything was utterly different. Because at the edges of all that banal activity, framing the mass of keels and undersides like the points of a pentacle, the five great chains angled in a steep slope down and forward into the pitch, tethering the avanc miles below.

Tanner’s days were harder than before. He kept swimming all the time, simply to keep up with Armada. He often found himself grabbing hold of jutting pillars, barnacle-crusted timbers, to allow himself to be towed. At the end of the day, when he hauled himself out of the water and returned to his rooms, he was utterly exhausted.

Thoughts of New Crobuzon clouded his mind more and more. He wondered if the message he had delivered had got through. He hoped it had, very much. He could not think about his erstwhile home ruined by war.

The temperature did not waver. Each day was sweaty and bleached by light. When there were clouds they were fraught, stormy and elyctric.

The Lovers, the anophelius Aum, Uther Doul, and a cabal of others retreated into the Grand Easterly to work on their new secret project. The wider circle of scientists was cut loose, to wander disconsolate and aggrieved.

Bellis’ job was over. During the working hours, for want of other friends, she began tentatively to speak again with Johannes. He too was cast-off, like her. The avanc was caught-his role was over.

Johannes was still wary of her. They would wander the swaying streets of Armada, stopping at pavement cafés and little gardens, while pirate children played around them. They both still received stipends and could live easily from day to day, but their hours were endless and purposeless now. There was nothing ahead of them except other days, and Johannes was angry. He felt deserted.

For the first time Bellis could remember, he began to mention New Crobuzon regularly.

"What month is it at home?" he asked.

"Swiven," Bellis replied, chastising herself silently for not appearing to have to work it out.

"Winter’s over," he said, "back there. Back in New Crobuzon." He nodded toward the west. "Spring now," he said quietly.

Spring. And here am I, thought Bellis, who had winter stolen from me. She remembered the river journey to Iron Bay.

"Do you suppose they know by now that we never arrived?" he said quietly.

"Nova Esperium must do," said Bellis. "Or at least they assume we’re very severely delayed. Then they’ll wait for the next New Crobuzon boat, probably in another six months’ time, to send them word. So they won’t know for sure back home for a long time."

They sat and drank their thin city-grown coffee.

"I wonder what’s been happening there," Johannes said eventually.

They did not say much to each other, but the air was pregnant with their quiet.