The Cartel

by E G Manetti

  “Yes milord,” Lilian’s obedient response yields naught of her thoughts. Mayhap milord would consider a midday meal instead of milord’s pleasure occasionally? Do not. Do not.

  Sevenday 4, Day 3

  Lilian stares blankly at the freshening closet mirror. No matter how carefully she constructs the paradigm, it collapses. Milord is incomprehensible. He was delighted with her on Scoring Day. The soreness engendered by milord’s extended Fifth Day approval did not ease until well into Sixth Day. Since then milord has been demanding and remote. Yesterday was terrifying but ultimately wondrous. This morning milord is returned to demanding and harsh.

  Milord’s mood has much to do with the Cartel and little with me, Lilian mentally lectures. Has she erred, milord would not hesitate to correct her.

  “Is it well with you?” Rebecca demands.

  At the abrupt tone, Lilian gathers her disordered thoughts and responds, “I am well, Rebecca. What concerns you?”

  “That he left the Cartel in a rage and dragged you with him,” Rebecca hisses.

  “Rebecca, I pray you, show more respect,” Lilian begs. Her concern at Rebecca’s irreverence evaporates as Lilian comprehends her friend’s inquiry. “How know you this?”

  Mr. George would not have spoken.

  “Lilian, half the Cartel knows it, the other half will by midday,” Rebecca returns. With a wry expression, Rebecca adds, “There is naught that occurs in monsignor’s orbit that fails to generate comment.”

  Accepting the truth, Lilian reflects, “The morning greeting I received from Mistress Marieth is explained.”

  The polite ‘well met’ from the usually indifferent executive servitor had startled Lilian as much as it had pleased her.

  “You truly are well,” Rebecca marvels. “How did you manage? Was it that Archives nastiness?”

  For a moment Lilian struggles for a response, “No act or lack of mine gave rise to monsignor’s ire. I can voice no more, and well you know it.”

  Activity in the penthouse is as sacrosanct as activity behind the scarlet door.

  “It’s said you followed him without tremor or hesitation. Fear you not his anger?” Relief gives rise to fascination.

  “Rebecca, think you I am a fool?” Lilian replies with asperity.

  “How then?” Rebecca probes.

  “To yield to fear is to invite another adversary into combat,” Lilian quotes. “I own sufficient adversaries. I require no others.”

  True, as far as it goes. Rebecca is far too shrewd. She has an uncanny ability to see to the heart of people and rumor. With that thought, another occurs, “Rebecca, as I did not cause monsignor’s anger, are you able to discover who did?”

  Eyes narrowing in speculation, Rebecca says, “I’m certain I am able.”

  »◊«

  “I’m unable to discover the whole of it,” Rebecca begins. “Much is hidden by privilege. It’s certain that Monsignor Sebastian has been intriguing again.”

  “Again?” Chrys questions.

  It is Lilian who responds, “I do not believe it has ceased since Monsignor Sebastian failed to wrest Serengeti from monsignor during the pirate actions.”

  “Surely Monsignor Sebastian never thought it would be so,” Chrys challenges. “Monsignor Lucius controls Blooded Dagger and Blooded Dagger controls the Vistrite.”

  Lilian agrees with Chrys even as she counters, “Grey Spear forced monsignor to make concessions. Having wrested one advantage, Grey Spear continues to seek further advances.”

  “There is considerable advantage in not annoying Monsignor Lucius,” Chrys remarks. “Monsignor Sebastian remains subordinate to Monsignor Lucius.”

  “Were it open defiance or interference in Cartel operations, monsignor could act,” Lilian confirms. “Monsignor Sebastian’s intrigues are subtle and difficult to counter.”

  “Lilian, you are suggesting that to counter Monsignor Sebastian would have carried a higher cost than to yield.” The ever clever Chrys immediately comprehends the challenge.

  “Or monsignor did act and was angered at the cost of countering another of Monsignor Sebastian’s intrigues,” interjects the also clever Rebecca.

  Pleased at how quickly her friends respond to guidance Lilian offers, “Truly, there are some of Monsignor’s Sebastian’s intrigues that serve little purpose other than to annoy monsignor.”

  Lilian was not pleased when Sebastian Mehta exploited a distant family connection to claim her protégé contract. As she has never met the warrior, the only reason could have been to annoy milord. Lilian's goal had been the Cartel Preeminence. That she has achieved her ambition through disgrace rather than accomplishment is a bitter irony. The Shades own an unfortunate sense of humor.

  “You are well informed in this,” Rebecca observes.

  “I executed extensive research on the Cartel and its leadership,” Lilian responds forcing back the flicker of resentment. It serves no purpose. “Did you not before applying?”

  “Only in that it was a prestigious placement. Once accepted, I researched the general nature and preferences of the seigneurs,” Rebecca admits. “It’s unlikely I will encounter any of the governors.”

  “I researched Seigneur Rachelle and the Cartel R&D department extensively,” Chrys adds. “To a lesser extent, I researched the Blooded Dagger seigneurs and Master Straus. For the rest I settled for knowing the rank, role and house affiliations of the seigneurs.”

  As in so many other ways, in this Lilian is different. Intended for a protégé role, she performed exhaustive research that would have been essential to her success as a protégé. Little of which is helpful in her present circumstances.

  Chapter 9: Red Ear Gems

  A thousand years ago, three of the First System’s four planets were a disorganized cooperative of continental fiefdoms. After three centuries of Anarchy, the First System retained a tenuous hold on viable stellar transit and communications systems. With each passing year, that hold weakened. From this dark abyss, a mighty warlord emerged.

  Raised to combat and dominance, Socraide Omsted, the First Warrior, inherited his realm at a young age when his mother died of wounds received at the Battle of the Three Realms. That conflict united what is now Socraide Prime. With control of Socraide Prime, the First Warrior had the resources to consolidate two of First Systems’ other three planets into his holding. With the consolidation, in terms of territory, Socraide was indisputably the most successful of all the Three Systems’ warlords.

  A warrior of unrelenting fierceness, Socraide was renowned for his ability to discover and exploit weakness in his opponents. His success was so unprecedented, it was considered supernatural. ~excerpt from The Origins of the Five Warriors, a scholarly treatise.

  Sevenday 5, Day 1

  Lack wit. Lack wit. Lack wit. How could she have been so oblivious?

  Four sevendays have flown by. Nonetheless, she has erred. She could have approached Rebecca. Women have cycles. There must be some method to alert milord without her having to put voice to it.

  And what is she to voice? There is naught she can say that is not presumptuous. Naught that does not assume milord will wish milord’s pleasure. Not that Lilian objects to the possibility of a midday meal. If it were not for protein bars bolted in a freshening closet, some days she would not eat all. As eighth bell chimes, Lilian considers leaving it for midday. No, that will only make matters worse. Honor does not know fear.

  Crossing the scarlet threshold Lilian discovers milord seated at his desk gazing at her over steepled fingers.

  “Is it well with you, Lilian?” milord’s inquiry is casual, his regard intent.

  This is ill. Honor endures.

  Struggling to keep her face impassive, Lilian responds, “Very well, milord, my thanks.”

  Milord is pleased? Entertained mayhap?

  “Are you quite certain?” The words are quietly spoken, milord’s expression alarming.

  Is he smiling? Five Warriors take it. He knows. How does he know
? I did not know.

  With a small sigh, milord responds to her unvoiced thoughts, “Lilian, you should pay more attention to your body. The signs were obvious the sevenday past.”

  Pushing a small box across the table milord instructs, “Take these and wear them on the appropriate days. You may put them in now and then we will discuss your work.”

  With a flash of regret, Lucius watches Lilian’s rigid form exit through the scarlet door. I should not have teased her so. It is so very difficult to break through her reserve. Except during passion, and immediately afterwards, the woman is a sealed vault. He could not resist the urge to overset her and see what would develop. Her wretched embarrassment was unanticipated. There is naught to be done.

  Turning to his techno grouping, Lucius focuses on the endless demands of governing his Cartel.

  It could have been a great deal worse. Thank the Shades, milord abandoned the game quickly. Forty-five minutes later, Lilian is at her worksite as Rebecca approaches. One look at Lilian and Rebecca pulls up the visitor seat. “What has happened? What has he done to you, now? Are you able to speak?”

  “Monsignor gave me ear gems. Red ear gems.” Lilian manages to suppress her embarrassment.

  “And very nice they are, too,” Rebecca remarks leaning in to examine at the elegant gem winking in one of Lilian’s ears.

  “These are real. I mean, real gold and real rubies,” there is awe in Rebecca’s voice.

  “Yes, I know.” It is one benefit of a warrior upbringing. One recognizes the true from dross in jewelry.

  “Why would it distress you that monsignor gave you ear gems? I would think – oh. Well, I still don’t understand why it oversets you. They’re nicer than the lapel pin I was displaying last sevenday,” the blonde responds casually.

  “I noticed it. If only I thought to inquire about it,” Lilian’s words are morose.

  Awareness dawns on Rebecca’s face. Gently she says, “You were surprised. You didn’t see it coming. You’re so clever, I forget how inexperienced you are. Was it very bad? Did he make it very difficult?

  “Not nearly to the extent monsignor could have.”

  Sevenday 5, Day 2

  Exiting the staircase, Lilian turns down the corridor toward Master Nickolas’ office. Today is the Festival of the First Warrior, Socraide Omsted. Genetic heir to the First Warrior, Lucius Mercio is Lord Patron of Socraide’s Third System Chapter and the Garden Center Shrine. He, as well as many of his seigneurs, will be absent the Cartel this day.

  Milord’s protégé is of Jonathan’s descent and, as with almost half the Third System, follows the Fourth Warrior, Jonathan Metricelli. This day, in milord’s absence, Lilian reports to Nickolas at eighth bell.

  With naught to do but stand and wait, Lilian occupies the time examining the ornaments in Nickolas’ office through the glazed wall. The wall opposite the desk holds a collection of daggers. Lilian places the origins between the fifth and ninth centuries. It is likely they are family heirlooms.

  Below the daggers is a long storage console in the same black enamel as Nickolas’ desk. Centered on the console is a crevasse stone sculpture, approximately two feet in height. Lilian estimates it is no more than a century old. Its value is in the artistry of the work not its antiquity.

  The figure of Jonathan Metricelli is captured mid-stride, the scarlet enameled chest indicating body armor. The long duster swirls around the figure as if stirred by the wind and the striding warrior’s movements. The precisely carved fire rifle, slung near the warrior’s hand, is at odds with the rough suggestion of a face that tradition demands. Jonathan Metricelli’s features are unknown.

  “It appears no corridor is free from the foul stench of corruption,” Lilian recognizes the familiar dulcet tones which do not hide the ugliness of the approaching associate’s message.

  I am the sum of my ancestors. Lilian prepares for avoidance.

  The associate is four years Lilian’s senior and they shared some classes at the University. When Lilian was heir to a cartouche, the clever and charming woman had exerted herself to befriend Lilian.

  Using the reflection in the glass to mark the progress of the two associates, Lilian shifts her weight to her toes. I am the foundation of my family.

  “As the maintenance staff is inadequate to sweep the distasteful substance from the Cartel, another means must be found,” the man returns as he and his companion come abreast of Lilian.

  The spiteful expression on the man’s face is as much a threat as his words. Lilian does not recognize him. Both must be well placed within the Blooded Dagger hierarchy to have worksites along this corridor.

  “Mistress Lilian,” Nickolas’ voice pulls her attention from the retreating couple. Obediently, Lilian follows the protégé into his office to await his instruction. It is mercifully brief. This once, the protégé’s disdain is a boon. Lilian is anxious to find her worksite and rework her analysis of the Desperation fraud.

  »◊«

  “Chrys, can the materials for refinery scrubbing be used for any other purpose?” Sunlight steams the windows of the Archives as Lilian takes a seat next to Chrys.

  “Refinery scrubbing? I thought you completed that training assignment.” The technologist breaks off from his work to respond to Lilian’s query.

  “It is not a general training exercise, Chrys.” The Desperation fraud and Mr. Simmons involvement remains a tangled muddle. Lilian has decided to begin her analysis afresh with the scrubber contract.

  The modest benefit of the fraud troubled her from the outset. Lillian’s most recent review indicates that the fraudulent enterprise continues to purchase supplies as if it were performing the work. Expenditures that further erode the financial benefit of the fraud. Could it be the fraud is not intended for financial gain but to acquire the supplies? If so, to what purpose?

  After a pause Chrys responds, “You are not going to voice anything else, are you?”

  “I am unable. It is not privileged but it is closely held,” Lilian offers with what she hopes is a casual attitude. She dislikes deceiving Chrys.

  After a moment, Chrys nods assent as he swallows his annoyance at Nickolas. The protégé is exploiting his status as conservator to set Lilian tasks well outside her areas of excellence. The warrior wishes Lilian to fail.

  Checking his temper, Chrys yields to Lilian’s need. “The scrubbing mechanisms and sponges can be used for a variety of manufacturing and refining purposes. The cleansers used for the Desperation contract cannot be used to cleanse anything but Vistrite refinement waste.”

  “What about the components of the cleanser?” The question comes slowly as Lilian considers Chrys’ information.

  “I know not what they are. I am able to find the answer. It requires a day or two.” Monsignor’s protégé can eat crevasse-crawler. Chrys will see that Lilian does not fail in this.

  “I would be grateful if you would. Have you knowledge of the sponges as well?” Lilian inquires hopefully.

  “They are only sponges. You can use them for anything that demands a sponge.” Chrys is dismissive.

  “How are sponges fabricated?” Lilian cannot help but follow the inquiry to its next level.

  “Some are constructed and some are grown,” Chrys shrugs. “Synthetics are much cheaper and more than sufficient for scrubbing operations. Should you wish to know more about sponges, you may query the Cartouche archives. Blooded Dagger is the dominant producer of sponges in the Twelve Systems.”

  “I do not believe the sponges are important,” Lilian dismisses that avenue of inquiry. “It is interesting about the Cartouche. I had no notion the breadth of the holdings. I thought it was only Vistrite and its collateral industries. We seem to be into everything. And it is not as though Vistrite is not enough by itself. For all practical purposes, that is the same as being into everything.”

  “How so, Lilian?” Chrys is bemused by the last comment.

  “Chrys, it is in everything. There is not a light, a transport or eve
n a door that is not controlled, managed, or secured by Vistrite based technology.”

  “Mayhap here in Crevasse City and in the primary systems, but it is not so in the remoter systems. Out there, Vistrite is central to transport, weaponry, data and communications. It is not used for simpler functions such as lights and doors,” Chrys reveals.

  “Why ever not?” In Lilian’s mind, Chrys has suggested that water is not used for washing.

  “Vistrite is heavy. It does not appear that way when it is a little shard keeping our slates smart. Shipped in bulk with its controllers, it becomes so. The farther away from the mining and refining operations, the more expensive it becomes. So out in the remote systems, we use the older technologies. In some agrarian areas you will discover candles are employed for illumination rather than decoration,” Chrys completes with a smile at Lilian’s stunned expression.

  Sevenday 5, Day 3

  It is midday outside of the Cartel. Except on Seventh Days, it is the first time in over a month that Lilian has been outside during the day. The day is bright and sunny and warm. It offers no indication of the oppressive heat that will soon to settle in for months.

  Chrys has convinced Lilian to indulge in a true midday meal. The city art museum is a short walk from Serengeti. It offers a small café within the means of an apprentice, as long as it is not a regular occurrence.

  The café is set in a corner of the sizable open courtyard, or plaza, at the center of the museum. A small water feature splashes musically in another corner. The café structure is a common practice in Crevasse City. The fine restaurants that fill to bursting in the evening have difficulty attracting custom for midday.

  The museum café is a particularly pleasant example of the practice. Shielded by awnings, the café is a set of small tile tables collected to one side of the restaurant’s main entrance. A chamber of sorts is defined by large pots of pastel flowers hued to match the tables. Almost as if designed, the patrons are arrayed in similarly colored silks and linens.