by E G Manetti
»◊«
It is not a clever trap devised by Master Nickolas. There is something wrong in the operations of Desperation Refinery. Leaning back in her worksite chair, Lilian ponders the Refinery scrubber contracts. Due to Chrys’ aid, Lilian knew what to seek and she has found it. Determining its significance is another matter. After a moment, she taps out an alert to Rebecca.
“Lilian, even with the exclusions you specify, there will be a great deal of data. Are you certain? It may be several bells before the results return. Execute this within the Archives and you will wait no more than a period,” Rebecca regards Lilian seriously.
They are speaking quietly. Lilian tapped out most of her requirements on her slate for Rebecca to view. The Grim Twins, as Lilian mentally terms two associates in the worksites fronting Lilian’s, do not acknowledge Lilian. Lilian is certain that they note every visit and every word spoken at her worksite.
“Truly, Rebecca, it is better done here.” Considering her friend, Lilian decides to yield a partial answer rather than to attempt to avoid the question. “It is but a training requirement. It is not justified to attach Archive resources so I may appease my curiosity.”
What Lilian does not voice is her certainty that she must avoid calling attention to her investigation of the wrongness.
“It will be days of work to sift the results,” Rebecca continues to warn.
“I do not plan to review each result. While the search runs, I will develop the evaluation algorithms I require.” Her needs met, Lilian politely acknowledges a debt paid, “Truly, Rebecca, my thanks. You have repaid my assistance with the interrogatives.”
Lilian does not know exactly what she seeks, only that there is something amiss in the operations of the Desperation Refinery. One of the scrubber contracts is fraudulent. Lilian wants the culprits. She also wants to know if they have other schemes in play. Where there is one crime, there are often others.
With Rebecca’s guidance, Lilian has created a search protocol that will harvest the Serengeti Archives for any reference to Desperation Refinery. Her filtering algorithms will sort the data and weigh its value. It may require another sevenday. In the end, Lilian will penetrate the fraud and its surrounding mystery.
Chapter 4: Disdain
The Apprentice Protocol (continued)
25. The bonded will honor all commerce commitments.
26. The bonded will not engage in illicit commerce.
27. The bonded will dedicate itself to acquiring the skills offered under the bond.
Serengeti addendum
28. The bonded will respect and honor the protocols and strictures of Cartouche and Cartel.
29. The bonded will defend the wealth and honor of the Cartouche unto death.
30. The bonded will defend the wealth and honor of the Cartel unto death.
31. The bonded will accept the authority of the Associate Master or other delegate in the absence of the bondholder.
32. The bonded will be permitted one and one half period of respite each commerce day.
33. The bonded will limit respite to fifteen minutes except for one period at midday.
34. The bonded will not consume food or drink except within the designated sections of the Cartel.
35. The bonded will proceed at an orderly pace.
36. The bonded will adhere to Cartouche and Cartel guidance in matters of garb.
Sevenday 1, Day 5
There is an unpleasant odor in the Cartel. Sniffing delicately Lilian works her way from the riser banks to her worksite. The distasteful scent grows stronger. Perplexed by the failure of Serengeti’s ruthlessly efficient maintenance, Lilian arrives at the walkway to her worksite. Quick reflexes save her from treading in the source of the foul stench.
A dead, black bird has been dropped at the base of the walkway to the four worksites. It is rotted and crawling with insects. A line of dark red pigment marks its head and back. The Grim Twins are nowhere in evidence. Swallowing her rising gorge, lips tight with disgust, Lilian ignites her slate and taps out an alert to maintenance.
Sound nearby causes her to raise her eyes from her slate. There are several associates in the next section smirking and laughing. Turning away, Lilian sets course for the Archives. She will complete another training exercise or two while waiting for her worksite to become accessible.
The delay is an annoyance. Lilian’s algorithms for evaluating the Desperation data completed during the night. Dismissed from eighth bell attendance, Lilian had been hurrying to examine the results. In the future, she will be careful to configure the results to be accessible by her slate as well as her worksite.
“Lilian, is it well with you?” Chrys drops into the predictably empty seat next to her. The solid young man’s face is gently concerned. “I heard about the crow.”
“I am well, Chrys,” Lilian replies as she pulls her gaze from the partially completed exercise.
Lilian’s even response does not reassure Chrys. “How is it you are not overset? That was an ugly deed. How could anyone have taken against you so strongly in four days?”
As Chrys watches, Lilian’s face tightens and closes down. He has said something amiss. “Lilian, I beg pardon. It was not my intent to distress you.”
At Chrys’ words, Lilian forces her emotions deeper. Honor is my blade and shield. Chrys is not at fault. “As such acts go, this one is minor. Nor was I required to clear away the foulness.”
Seeing that her explanation is not easing Chrys’ concern, Lilian continues, “It is not a matter of days, Chrys. Remus Gariten’s tainted offspring are heartily despised on Metricelli Prime. There are many within the Cartel who would prefer to see me swept from it.”
“You are Monsignor Lucius’ apprentice.” Chrys’ concern turns to shock.
Lilian may lack status and a name. To offer her open despite within the halls of Serengeti could be viewed as a challenge to His Preeminence’s will. Lucius Mercio is not tolerant of those who challenge his will.
What to respond. How to voice it? “Monsignor cannot chastise everyone who offers me insult, Chrys. There are too many. It is better not to notice. None have exceeded insult since the bond was sealed.”
“I do not believe monsignor will overlook someone introducing carrion to the Cartel,” Chrys insists. “Whoever committed this act will pay a heavy penalty.”
“It is not likely that the perpetrator will be identified.” Lilian almost immediately understood the cleverness of the nasty trick. “That corridor is the primary route from the risers. At that bell it is heavily travelled. It is unlikely that the monitors will be able to disclose with certainty who tossed the dead bird into the walkway.”
“It will be your worksite, next,” Chrys concludes, grimly.
At his words, Lilian’s features lighten slightly. She is pleased by the thought. “That might well be worth it, although I believe it unlikely. Anyone clever enough to defeat the monitors will notice that monsignor’s apprentice is tightly observed. There is naught at my worksite that cannot be captured other than the contents of the reviewer. Nor can one casually pass by.”
It is common practice in the Cartel to weave among the walkways rather than take the often longer route of the corridors. With the wall backing Lilian’s worksite, none can pretend a casual passage.
“Well that is some comfort,” Chrys responds, expression lifting. “You may be at ease when working.”
“Yes, Chrys, it is,” Lilian concurs. “Please me, and let us speak of this no more. It accomplishes no benefit and uses time to no purpose.”
Nodding, Chrys accepts her request and turns the conversation to the latest interrogatives.
Later, when he has the leisure to do so, Chrys will consider the implications of Lilian’s revelations. For whatever purpose, Monsignor Lucius is expending considerable resources to monitor his apprentice. After five days, Chrys is certain Lilian is untainted by her father’s evil. Lacking warrior sensibilities, Chrys does not embrace the conviction that Lilia
n is coward for refusing to redeem her foul parent’s sins by accepting the Final Draught. The omniscient Lucius Mercio must be as certain of Lilian’s character as Chrys. Monsignor has another purpose in this close watch.
Within a few moments they are interrupted by the ping of Lilian’s slate. Associate Master Straus requires her attendance.
“You have naught to offer in fact or suspicion in this matter?” Straus frowns, his thin lips all but disappearing in the square face with its broad nose. The dark brown eyes hold disbelief as well as sharp intelligence. In echo of the frown, a faint crease mars the high forehead from which dark brown hair recedes. Nearing seventy, the Associate Master has had decades to master the art of quiet intimidation.
I am the sum of my ancestors.
Lilian knew she would be subject to Master Straus’ interrogation when she alerted maintenance to the dead bird. She would be expected to have some knowledge as to the source of the insult and threat.
“No Master Straus.” At her response Lilian finds skepticism and annoyance gathering in Straus’ face. I am the foundation of my family. “Truly, Master Straus, I would that I did. The miscreant who introduced foul carrion to Monsignor Lucius’ Cartel should be found. It grieves me that I am unable to aid in this.”
Without a change in expression, the Associate Master makes an abrupt change in topic, “You aided Mistress Rebecca with a training exercise.”
“Yes, Master Straus,” Lilian confirms serenely. Master Straus is nowhere near as intimidating as milord. His question confirms that he did suspect her of fraud.
“Know you that it is forbidden to execute the training exercise of another associate?” Straus interrogates.
“Yes, Master Straus. I did not do so. Mistress Rebecca performed the work. I only assisted with the method.” Lilian is baffled. Master Straus knows this.
Regarding the trim, black clad figure, Straus regrets that the brilliant mind is unlikely to survive past the rains. She is not at all what he expected. Straus anticipated that the fallen warrior would hold herself aloof from the apprentices. That she would trade on her brilliance to forge alliances with the more highly placed associates. Instead she has befriended one of the lowliest Cartel associates. The woman is neither devious enough nor ruthless enough to survive.
Straus voices none of these thoughts. “Do not forget it that is forbidden for you to perform another’s training. You may go.”
»◊«
I am the sum of my ancestors. Milord will be no more pleased by the dead bird than Master Straus. Steeling herself for milord’s harsh interrogation, Lilian crosses the scarlet threshold.
Milord is not at the desk or the conference table. Milord is relaxed, sprawled on the couch with his tunic open. The heavy lidded gaze and loose limbs indicate interest in passion not carrion. It is Lilian’s preference as well. She enjoys milord’s touch and he is pleased. It Is enough. It must be enough. Her lack of release is unimportant. The penthouse was an exception. This day. Abandoning her slate and jacket, Lilian decorously rounds the couch.
Lucius considers the black clad figure entering his office with a combination of delight consternation. Lilian is in no manner overset by the ugly incident with the dead bird. A rapid review of monitor logs displayed a remarkable level of self-mastery and pragmatism.
With a privileged childhood and a decade at the University, Lucius expected an academic. He thought it unlikely her brilliance would encompass much practical understanding. How Lilian managed to develop such hard edged pragmatism is an enigma. Lucius’ carefully designed program to develop practical judgment in his apprentice is abandoned. He will consider how best to penetrate the enigma.
It is also apparent that the level of insult the woman is receiving within his Cartel is well beyond what he and Dean Joseph predicted. It will be some months before Lucius will set his apprentice to the endeavor for which he acquired her. The seasons until then will allow him opportunity to settle her into her new existence.
In only one area is Lucius dissatisfied. Lucius has concluded that Lilian’s determination to please him is insufficient. He wishes the abandoned passion of the First Day night. He cannot seem to call it forth. It is not that she is unresponsive. Lilian yields readily enough. Some spark will not ignite.
It may be naught more than inhibition created by the Cartel. It is possible he will need to return her to the penthouse to rediscover the wanton. The notion does not please him. It is not practical for midday.
As soon as Lilian is within reach, milord pulls her to him and captures her mouth with his. Mind clouding, Lilian has only a moment to process that this is milord’s first kiss since First Day. Milord is pleased?
Milord is exceptionally pleased. Lilian’s breasts ache from milord’s impassioned assault, her nipples are hard and swollen. As milord abandons the straining mounds to explore her sex with teeth and tongue, Lilian raises her hands to cup and ease her aching breasts.
“Do not,” milord voices roughly. The exhalation of his breath against her swelling sex is beyond stimulating. Lilian cannot help but writhe in response.
Gripping Lilian’s hips to hold her in place, milord instructs, “Those are mine to enjoy.”
Nodding, lips closed against a cry, Lilian releases her breasts and fists her hands in the buttery leather of milord’s scarlet sofa. In return, milord’s teeth scrape Lilian’s jewel sending convulsions of delight through her. Swallowing a scream, Lilian pants heavily, her thighs widening in invitation to further contact, to further invasion.
Two fingers thrust into her as milord’s thumb works her jewel. Wild with desire, Lilian thrust against the invading digits, the tormenting thumb. She is close.
Milord ceases his play. No. No.
“Not yet, Lilian,” milord murmurs as he releases his trousers, freeing the hard length of his shaft.
Grasping Lilian’s knees, milord pulls them to his shoulders. Crawling over her, milord teases her opening with the tip of his sex.
Lilian thrusts her hips toward the taunting erection, seeking to press herself onto the promising hardness. Milord grasps her hands and pins them by her head. Lilian is immobilized by milord’s weight against her thighs and the hands on her wrists. She is exposed, vulnerable. It is unbearably erotic. Slowly milord slides his long length into her, filling her. At the exquisite fullness, Lilian clenches, savoring the feel of milord.
Eyes dark, milord offers a fierce grin as he begins to move slowly, deliberately within her. Milord’s sex finds that perfect spot inside Lilian and strokes it. Mindless with pleasure, with need, Lilian whimpers as she shudders under the relentless onslaught. Milord’s pace climbs and deepens until pleasure is slamming through Lilian and she unravels.
As Lucius considers Lilian’s retreating form, he smiles. Were Lucius not so pleased by Lilian’s pragmatic reaction to the dead bird, it might have been sevendays before he penetrated the mystery of her response. To become aroused, Lilian needs to be kissed.
»◊«
Milord’s will is unfathomable. Milord’s pleasure was long and lingering, providing Lilian the same shattering release as First Day. Was it reward? An accident? Lilian’s mind rockets as she attempts to comprehend milord’s will. Milord did not even mention the dead bird. As the riser doors open, Lilian forces thought of milord from her mind and the residual lassitude from her limbs.
Stepping into the walkway to her worksite Lilian is impressed by the efficiency of the Serengeti maintenance staff. There is neither mark nor scent to note the location of the deceased bird. Passing between the Grim Twins, she is not surprised that neither the man nor the woman acknowledges her presence.
Regarding the three score entries that remain after her algorithms sifted Rebecca’s archive search, Lilian settles into her task. Somewhere in these entries is the key to the wrongness in the Desperation Refinery.
Sevenday 1, Day 6
“Lilian, is that a smile?” Chrys leans over the top of her worksite’s privilege shield, his quiet smile in evid
ence. “No, not a smile, but you are pleased by something. What has occurred?”
“It is an assignment from the Associate Master.” Lilian does not try to hide her pride in this unprecedented development. Milord has spoken with Master Straus.
“It cannot be. It has only been a sevenday,” Chrys challenges. Cartel assignments are rarely issued to the trainees in fewer than two sevendays.
“It is a financial analysis, not a training exercise,” Lilian demonstrates the cause of her conviction.
“The first commerce assignment in our associate group and it goes to a lowly apprentice. Well that should blister Protégé Martin’s Vistrite,” Chrys’ appreciation of Lilian’s success is tempered by his hostility toward the other man.
“Who is Protégé Martin, and why is this significant?” Lilian demands, her attention caught by Chrys’ hostility as much as his words.
“You have avoided the experience? In that you have the favor of the Five Warriors,” Chrys replies, dislike flavoring every word. “He is the pompous, self-important, extremely well connected protégé of Monsignor Sebastian. He clearly expects to fire burst through the training program and has no problem making life difficult for lower status associates.”
“I beg pardon for interrupting, but I did hear something about Master Martin having a bad day?” Rebecca inquires excitedly as she joins Chrys and Lilian.
“You dislike him as well, Rebecca?” this from Lilian.
“I keep as far out of arm’s reach as I can,” Rebecca returns wryly.
At Lilian’s blank expression, Chrys and Rebecca exchange a knowing one. Chrys steps into explain. “I mentioned that Master Martin enjoys exploiting his rank. One of his favored ways is to trouble the apprentices.”