by E G Manetti
Looking around Lilian remarks, “We could be a pair of crows on wedlock cake.”
“Ravens, Blooded Dagger apprentices are referred to as ravens,” Chrys corrects her. He has collected a dish and utensils and is carefully selecting items from the buffet. Lilian follows his lead. Her selections tend to more vegetables and less meat and cheese.
“Truly? How interesting, a pair of ravens mixing with peacocks and swans,” Lilian responds to Chrys’ remark.
Chrys recognizes the slight crinkling of her eyes and small lift of the lips that is Lilian’s version of a smile. Noting an unoccupied table by the front pots they settle in to enjoy their meal.
“We are probably the only working birds at the party,” Chrys continues the game. “Most of the patrons are here to view the exhibits. As it is a commerce day, they are students, leisured or on holiday. I come here for the quiet and the sky. I was born in the agrarian colonies on Genji in the Ninth System. While I do not miss the poverty, I do sometimes miss the land.”
Lilian has suspected that Chrys’ origins were agrarian. With his comment, she is free to indulge her curiosity, “Do you have much family on Genji?”
“Parents, two brothers, a sister and a fair number of cousins,” Chrys admits before attacking his plate.
“Do they all work the grain oceans?” Lilian is intrigued. Genji is three times the size of Metricelli Prime. The half the planet that is not covered in water is almost entirely plains. The Agri-cohort that controls the planet supplies a third of the Twelve Systems with grain.
“My parents and brothers do, although our leasehold is mostly orchards and dairy,” Chrys explains. “Little of the produce ever leaves the planet.”
“And your sister?” Lilian is fascinated.
“Rhyliss is the baby of the family, she wishes to be a healer,” Chrys’ eyes shine and his voice takes on a note of reverence as he speaks of his sister.
Training to enter a healing enclave is no less expensive or competitive than training to enter a Cartel. If Rhyliss shares Chrys’ brilliance, it might be possible. Taking a sip of tea, Lilian works for a tactful way to frame her question, “Will Rhyliss be able to achieve her ambition?”
In response, Chrys’ face takes on resolve, “She will and without the need of an apprentice bond.”
Lilian’s fork hesitates briefly on its journey to her plate as she is unable to halt her blurted, “Chrys, but how?”
As leaseholders, Chrys’ family controls the holding and determines their own crops. They remain subject to the fees and protocols of the Agri-cohort. It would have been a considerable sacrifice to give Chrys over to bond rather than retain his labor. They cannot possibly fund a healer’s education.
With a shrug, Chrys continues his meal, “My needs are few. My bond price stretches to the Shrine School fees. Rhyliss is but fifteen. By the time she requires the fees for advanced studies, my bond will be proved and I will have an associate’s income.”
Lilian nods her understanding. When she proves in her bond, her associate’s income will readily cover the cost of Katleen’s advanced studies.
At the thought of Katleen, Lilian notes something unusual, “I should bring Katleen here one Seventh Day. The permanent collection contains some lovely second century enamels, and it is rather nice to take a seat and not have the tables near one empty.” Lilian is gazing about, openly enjoying herself.
“Does that silliness that goes on the Archives happen elsewhere?” Chrys responds with curiosity.
“We are well known in the Garden Center District. Quite a bit of open air forms around us when we go out. It is preferable to the occasional spitting. Until this moment, I had no notion that in other sections of the city people would either not notice us, or if they do, not care,” Lilian comments casually as she continues her meal.
“Did the protégés not make such a ritual out of it, most associates would simply ignore me,” Lilian remarks. “It can be entertaining though. Did you not see Master Martin almost trip the Associate Master yesterday? Pity it could not have been one of the seigneurs. That would have earned him a reprimand.”
Lilian sips her tea as she imagines the pleasant possibility.
“Achieve a reprimand for that crevasse-wallower and I believe you will find your popularity with the associates much improved.” With that, Chrys turns the topic to the latest catastrophe in the R&D lab and then acquaints her with bits and pieces of Cartel gossip to make for a pleasant meal.
“Thank you Chrys, this has been a lovely treat. I do not know when I will be able to enjoy another.” At Chrys’ look of surprise, Lilian explains, “Monsignor prefers my attendance at midday.”
Watching Chrys’ surprise turn to concern, Lilian rushes to explanation. “It is not that I object to attending monsignor, truly, I do not.” I quite enjoy it. Do not voice that. “It is the time. Even when I am not expected at the penthouse, I do not finish until the eleventh bell most nights.”
Chrys does not inquire why Lilian is at liberty this midday. It took him but two days to discern the significance of the rubies. Instead he comments, “That is a heavy schedule, almost half again what most of us carry. What is Monsignor Lucius’ purpose in this?”
Chrys remains concerned but now for different reasons. It is common enough for seigneurs to test the abilities of their apprentices and protégés with extended work. It is not common for such a trial to begin during training. It is a cruel addition to all the other challenges the young woman faces.
“I can assure you, monsignor has not informed me. Nor am I like to inquire.” With a small shake of her head Lilian adds, “Truly, I intend no complaint. An extra period in the day would be welcome.”
There is little Chrys is able to offer other than words of encouragement. “It has been but a month. It is common for a master to be very interested at the start of the contract. In another sevenday or so Monsignor Lucius’ interest will fade and with it, the demands for your attendance.”
“So it is a self-opening box.” At Chrys’ bemusement, Lilian expands, “A problem that solves itself over time. All I need to do is, wait.”
What Chrys might have said in response is lost when a small group of warriors sweeps past the café and into the restaurant proper. Something passes across Lilian’s face, quickly suppressed. “What is it Lilian, who was that?”
“I do not recognize them all. The one in blue is Lady Estella, monsignor’s wife,” Lilian replies.
“You know Monsignor Lucius’ wife?” Chrys attempts to mask the awe he feels as he casually glances into the restaurant to catch another glimpse of the renowned woman.
“Not ‘know’, Chrys, ‘recognize’. I have beheld her before. There were several occasions during Festival entertainments and once at the River Races.” For a moment it is as if a door opens inside Lilian, an entry into a bright garden. With a visible mental snap the door is closed.
“Ah Lilian, it is one thing to know, it is quite another to understand. Art exhibits, Festival Entertainments; all you once had. How do you manage?” It occurs to Chrys that behind that closed door is someone he might not recognize.
“It is the past, Chrys. ‘To dwell in the past is to lose control of the future,’” Lilian quotes the canons. “I have more than sufficient forces controlling my immediate future. I am not willing to embrace any others.” I dare not.
The wry pragmatic tones are very much the woman Chrys knows. He is also fascinated by Monsignor Lucius’ wife. “She is looking at you. Do you think she recognizes you?”
Chrys once again attempts to glance casually into the restaurant.
“No,” Lilian denies. “Should Lady Estella know I am Monsignor Lucius’ apprentice, I would not rate more than a passing glance. No more important to her than if monsignor acquired a new transport, mayhap less so.”
Chrys nods his agreement as he ceases to peer into the restaurant. Apprentices are a privilege of rank, a display of status and commercial success. For one of Lucius Mercio’s wealth, the ex
pense would be no more significant than any other luxury acquisition.
Collecting her satchel, Lilian rises as she says, “We should depart, the period concludes.”
Sevenday 5, Day 5
“Two of the three compounds in the scrubbing cleanser are commonly available and inexpensive, what is the third one?” Lilian is riveted to the reviewer displaying the results of Chrys’ inquiries.
“That one is a controlled substance that erodes the residue of the refining process. Among its other properties, it creates non-toxic byproducts that can be flushed by the other compounds.” Chrys taps the reviewer lightly for emphasis, while his companion ponders the information.
Easing back from the reviewer, Lilian turns to Chrys as she says, “Do not voice it, and allow me to guess. The patent for this one is owned by Serengeti.”
“Not the Cartel, Blooded Dagger Cartouche,” responds Chrys easing back in his chair with a pleased air.
“Let me guess further, the Cartouche limits access to carefully selected commercial interests.” At Chrys’ affirmative nod, Lilian sits back in her own chair, her inward eye evaluating what she has discovered.
Chrys knows she is speaking, but all he can make out is, “The key, this is the key.”
With a sudden, abrupt tension, the young woman sits bolt upright her chair starring the reviewer as if it had revealed the secret of charming gold from lead.
“Lilian, this is significant, is it not?” Chrys has no idea what Lilian has found, but he is certain she has found it.
Dangerous. So very dangerous. Honor knows not fear. Willing herself calm, Lilian responds to the technologist, “What is significant is that you are brilliant Chrys, and I have been a fool.”
Forcing lightness into her tone Lilian continues, “I should have discovered it two sevendays gone. It is well that it is naught but a training exercise.”
Lilian has unwittingly exposed her friend to information so sensitive, that for an apprentice to have knowledge of it is exceedingly dangerous. It is better that he dismiss it from his mind as quickly as possible.
»◊«
Be calm. Remain still. Honor knows not fear. Act as if it is any other midday. Did milord view my alert? It is not well that today the ear gems changed.
Chimes. Through the door.
Milord is waiting at the conference table as Lilian enters. It is well. Milord reviewed the alert. As required, she deposits her jacket and slate on a table near the door.
As soon as she reaches the conference table, milord pulls her into his lap, peels off her blouse and drops it to the floor. Milord’s lips and hands begin to wander. No, milord did not review the alert. Speak before this goes too far.
“Milord?” Lilian begins tentatively.
“Yes, Lilian, what is of such import that you must report it now?” As milord speaks, one warm hand slips inside the band of her skirt to caress her waist.
“They work milord. I believe they work and I believe they are stealing milord’s scrubbing compounds to create them.” Lilian has not raised her voice. The intensity of her tone could be a shout.
The warm hands stop their wandering as milord ceases his nibbling to look directly at Lilian, “What works Lilian?”
“The counterfeits, milord.” At milord’s stunned expression, Lilian hastens on, the words tumbling forth. “Not all of them, but some of them. There was a media report, a communication systems crash. The counterfeits in that system lasted months before they failed.”
Milord’s expression reveals naught. Insistently Lilian repeats, “They operated for months milord, not days.”
Lucius straightens, pulling Lilian to her feet as he retains his hold. In a few strides, he reaches the reviewer and begins to tap. Pulling Lilian down with him, Lucius sits on the couch, eyes fixed on the screen as data scrolls.
Lilian is correct, months. The potential repercussions of a viable synthetic version of Vistrite are staggering. The threat to the Cartel’s stranglehold on the essential technology is unprecedented. Lucius voices none of these thoughts. He commands, “All of it. Everything you know, everything you suspect.”
“It is that the scrubbing enterprise continues to purchase supplies. Why purchase supplies for an operation that is not performing the work that is contracted? The purpose of fraud is to receive something for nothing. The only element used in refinery scrubbing that is not commonly available is the scrubbing mix itself.
“Of the three compounds used in the old method, one is a security-privileged product that breaks down Vistrite residue for non-toxic disposal. If a thing can be disassembled, it may often be reassembled,” Lilian asserts.
“You believe they are using the compounds and residue to reverse engineer a synthetic form of Vistrite,” Lucius turns the astonishing thought over in his mind.
“Yes milord, and that Mr. Baldric Simmons knew or suspected something and wished to inform the one person he was absolutely certain could not be part of the conspiracy. Manager Sing was involved. Something happened this past tenth month to threaten the operation. The conspirators are either trying to close a leak or eradicate an error.”
“Well done, Lilian,” Lucius’ offers the accolade without thought as he continues to regard the reviewer over steepled fingers. After a few minutes, Lucius says, “We know what they are doing and why they are doing it. We know who is behind it. Soon, with Trevelyan’s aid, we will how far this reaches. Is there aught further you can prove with your analysis?”
“I believe so milord. Now that I know the purpose of the activity, the true nature of the transaction flows becomes clearer. I will not be able to map all of it. I should be able to describe the overall mechanics of the operation.” Lilian is serious and certain.
The transfer of wealth leaves an imprint and tells a story. Lilian has what she requires to follow the trail and map that story. It is for this that Lilian has trained for a decade. It is for these abilities that Lucius bought her.
“Provide whatever you are able by midday tomorrow. I will see to it that the information is relayed to Trevelyan.” With this last instruction, Lucius releases his regard of the reviewer.
Turning to his apprentice, curiosity aroused, Lucius inquires, “How is it you learned so much about a technologistics issue so quickly? It is not one of your areas of excellence.”
“Seigneur Rachelle’s apprentice, Chrys, assisted me, milord.” Lilian keeps her explanation simple. Simple is best.
“How much were you required to reveal to acquire this information?” Milord’s tone indicates he does not wish such dangerous information to be widely known.
Milord’s interrogation is not unanticipated. Lilian has her answer prepared, “Very little milord. I gave Master Chrys reason to believe that my interest in refinery scrubbing is due to a training assignment. He is also aware that all of our conversations are sealed to Cartouche privilege.”
Milord sees too much, it is not wise to withhold information milord is likely to discover. After a brief pause Lilian adds what she is certain milord would wish to know, “He is quite clever though. I cannot say as to how much he may have guessed.”
“How long have you had this all connected?” The question is soft. Milord’s gaze is sharp.
“Since the tenth bell, milord,” Lilian admits.
“You delayed half the morning before informing me of something of this magnitude?” Milord demands, harshly.
Stomach tightening at milord’s ire and her possible error in judgment, Lilian responds, “I beg milord’s pardon. I did wish to hasten to milord when I understood what I had uncovered. To come to milord uninvited, unannounced, it would cause a great deal of comment. I did send the alert immediately. I dared not commit more to communications. Master Trevelyan has been emphatic in this. With Master Trevelyan exit planet, I had no one to offer counsel.”
Lilian’s anxiety is palpable. She has worried this question for two bells.
“You did not err. Your judgment was sound.” Milord relaxes and becomes con
sidering, “Although, I do wonder. What would you have done were you not due to attend me?”
“I know not, milord. I would have had to discover a means.” Lilian pauses for a moment. “I believe I may have sent milord the red ear gems.”
“The red ear gems?” Bemusement has entered milord’s aspect.
“So that milord would know I was paying attention to something important. It would have caused milord to require my attendance, would it not?” Lilian questions earnestly.
“Yes Lilian, it would have,” milord acknowledges. “And now, as half the midday respite remains, I believe we will return to my original intent for this period.”
Dark heat rises in milord’s eyes calling answering tremors from inside Lilian. Milord is pleased and Lilian is eager to please milord.
Reclining on the couch, milord pulls Lilian on top of him up so her face is on level with his and her mouth can be captured in a kiss. As she is drawn into the kiss, Lilian moves, pressing her breasts against his chest, her legs entangling his, her hands wandering, seeking purchase. Milord hardens in response and begins to work his will.
Hard warm hands slide up Lilian’s thighs, over her hips, pushing her skirt to her waist. One of milord’s hands slips between her thighs, finding her sex, stroking her though silk and lace. The determined caress sings along nerve endings as Lilian swells and dampens.
Ceasing for a moment, milord tugs Lilian’s waist, turns, pulling her under him, his mouth capturing hers in another kiss.
Lying prone, ready, Lilian watches as milord moves next to her, over her. Reaching down, milord opens her bra to caress the straining breasts with their taut nipples. Milord’s face is dark with a passion she knows must mirror her own. She moves involuntarily beneath milord, encouraging, pleading with her body.
Milord shifts again. There is the sound of fasteners, a knee and then another knee is between her thighs. A familiar hand pushes aside the small scrap of bronze that protects her sex and then the hot, hard length of milord is probing, entering her swollen, heated center.