Most, perhaps, thought Bellis. But not all. And if it’s satisfaction with this place they look for before they let us live free here, then gods know -I know-they can make mistakes of judgment.

"I doubt," Johannes said quietly, "they’re so naÏve as to just leave us to roam unchecked. I’d be surprised if they didn’t keep careful note of us. I suspect we don’t go unwatched. But what could we do, anyway? This is a city, not a dinghy we can commandeer or scuttle.

"It’s only the crew who’d represent any kind of real problem. Many have families waiting for them. Those are the ones who’d likely refuse to accept that this is their new home."

Only the crew? thought Bellis, a bad taste in her throat.

"So what happens to them? Like the captain?" she said in a dead voice. "Like Cumbershum?"

Johannes flinched. "I… I’ve been told it’s… it’s only the captains and first officers of any ships encountered… That they simply have too much to lose, that they’re particularly tied to their home port…"

There was something fawning and apologetic in his face. With a waxing alienation, Bellis realized that she was alone.

She had come here tonight thinking that she might be able to talk to Johannes about New Crobuzon, that he would share her unhappiness, that she could touch the bloodied part of her mind and talk about the people and streets she missed so hard.

Perhaps that they might broach the subject that had burrowed through her thoughts for weeks: escape.

But Johannes was acclimatizing. He spoke in a carefully neutral register, as if what he said was just reportage. But he was trying to come to terms with the city’s rulers. He had found something in Armada that made him prepared to consider it home.

What did they do to achieve this? she thought. What is he doing?

"Who else have you heard about?" she said after a cold silence.

"Mollificatt, I’m very sorry to say, was one of those who succumbed when we first arrived," he said, looking genuinely sad. The mongrel and changing population of Armada made it a carrier of countless diseases. The city-born were hardy, but every batch of press-ganged was afflicted with fevers and murrains on its first arrival, and several of their number inevitably died. "I’ve heard rumors that our newcomer, Mr. Fennec, is working somewhere in Garwater, or Thee-And-Thine riding. Sister Meriope…" he said suddenly, his eyes widening. He shook his head. "Sister Meriope is… She is being held for her own safety. She threatens herself with violence constantly. Bellis," he whispered, " she is with child."

Bellis rolled her eyes.

I can’t listen to this, thought Bellis, saying just enough to be in the conversation. She felt alone. Tawdry secrets and clichés. What next? she thought with contempt as Johannes rambled on through the passenger list and the officers of the Terpsichoria. Some trusty sailor actually a woman disguised to go to sea? Love and buggery among the ranks?