He swore at her again, a drawn-out drawl of invective, and she did not interrupt. She let him speak until he was tired. He cursed her for a long time, and then suddenly changed his tack, speaking to her in what was almost a normal tone.

"All them dead. All that blood. I was under the waves, you know that? I was swimming in it." He whispered the words at her. "I was swimming in the fucking blood. Killing men like me. Stupid New Crobuzon boys that might’ve been my mates. And if I’d been took back, if they’d got their way, if they’d done what they wanted, if they’d taken this fucking city, then the killing wouldn’t have stopped. I’d be on my way to the colonies now. A Remade slave.

"My boy," he said, suddenly hushed. "Shekel. You know Shekel, don’t you?" He stared at her. "He helped you a few times. Him and his lady, Angevine, got caught up in the fighting. Ange can take care of herself, but Shekel? He got himself a rifle, stupid lad. A bullet hit the rail under him, and the splinters tore open his face. It’s a mess. He’ll always be marked-always. And there am I, thinking that if that Crobuzoner had moved his gun an inch-a fucking inch -then Shekel’d be gone. He’d be gone."

Bellis could not insulate herself from his desolate tone.

"Like all the others who’ve gone." Tanner’s voice was drab. "And who killed them, all the dead crews? Who killed ’em? Had to call for help, didn’t you? Did you even think about what might happen? Did you? Did you care? Do you care now?" His words hammered her, and even as she shook her head- that’s not how it was-she felt deep shame. "You killed them, you traitor fuck.

"You… and me."

He kept the gun steady, but his face distorted.

"Me," he said. "Why’d you bring me in?" His eyes were bloodshot. "You nearly killed my boy."

Bellis blinked away her own tears.

"Tanner," she said, and her voice was throaty. "Tanner," she said slowly, raising her hands in a helpless gesture. "I swear to you, I swear to you, I swear… I didn’t know."

She supposed that he had always had some vestige of doubt, some uncertainty, or he would have simply blown her away. She spoke to him for a long time, stumbling over her words, trying to find ways to express what sounded impossible, utterly untrue, even to her.

All the time she spoke, his gun never left her face. As she told Tanner what she had realized, Bellis stopped speaking, from time to time, as the truth of it sank into her.