“The costume you had on last night,” I said gently to Triss. “You said she was a great leader.”
“Yes.” She stopped, obviously intending to say no more. I waited patiently.
“I don’t know anything about her,” Barbita said. “What did she do?”
“She liberated my people from invaders.” She seemed puzzled about the sudden change of direction.
“You admire her, then?”
“Naturally.”
“What is it about her you admire?”
“She was brave and fearless. Even when the odds were against her she wouldn’t give in.”
“Are there any stories about particular battles she won?”
“Oh, yes. Do you want to hear one?” Both Barbita and I nodded. “Well there was a time when Paragonimffet was being hunted by her persecutors. She and her faithful band were hiding in the mountains. They had to live in caves and had very little food and few weapons. Some of her followers wanted to run away; to give up the struggle but she persuaded them not to. She had friends among the villagers who did what they could. It wasn’t much because the invaders were very cruel and stole most of the villagers’ food.
“One day she heard that a group of invaders were going to be passing through the mountains. Although they hadn’t many weapons, she decided to ambush them. She was very clever and set lots of traps so that the invaders would be killed or, if not, would be thrown into confusion. The invaders didn’t see the traps and many of them were killed. Then she attacked them and killed them all. She took all their weapons and their mounts. That was the turning point in the war. Now they were properly armed, her soldiers were able to fight better and started to win battles and finally drive the invaders out.”
I nodded. “She was certainly a brave and determined person. Did she know how many invaders she was attacking?”
“Of course. The villagers told her.”
“And did she go charging out and attack them head-on?”
“Of course not. I told you she ambushed them.”
She didn’t understand where I was leading and was getting cross.
“I want you to think about this carefully. Would Paragonimffet have done what you did last night?”
“Of course. She wasn’t afraid of a fight.”
“How many enemies were there last night?”
“I don’t know?”
“Who were they?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean we were in a large hall with lots of people. Which ones were our enemies?”
She was looking puzzled. “You said they were dressed as birds.”
“I did. How many people were dressed as birds?”
“I don’t know. There were too many people.”
“I see. So you were going to attack an unknown number of enemies whose location you didn’t know in a hostile environment where you didn’t know when and how they’d attack. Would Paragonimffet have done that?”
“No,” she said hotly. “She would have…”
She stopped in confusion. The light was beginning to dawn.
“Go on,” I said gently. “What would she have done?”
“She’d have withdrawn to a safe position until she could find out more about them.” Her voice was just above a whisper and she was staring at the floor. I realised she was crying.
I crossed to her and took her hands.
“Don’t cry.”
She dropped to her knees and looked up at me from stricken eyes.
“But I failed. I was sent to protect you and I failed. I should have suggested we left, not you. I should have realised it was an impossible situation.”
I pulled her gently to her feet and drew her into my arms.
“You didn’t fail. You weren't my protector, you were to be my partner. That’s not a major problem. I’m sure we can find another, more suitable occasion where you don’t have to be my protector.”
“You don’t hate me, then?”
“Hate you? Of course not. I was disappointed because I was looking forward to getting to know you and concerned because of what might have happened but I don’t hate you. In fact I rather like you. You really would have fought all these people for me. That’s quite something.”
She searched my eyes as if looking to see if I was telling the truth. She seemed satisfied with what she saw there for she nodded briefly and lowered her eyes. I tipped her head up and kissed her briefly on the lips.
“That’s a promise for later,” I said. She blushed. “You might want to wash your face.” She rose and strode off. I turned to Barbita. “How old is she?”
“Eighteen.”
“She seems younger. Her head’s full of romantic nonsense.”
“You didn’t believe her story?”
“Oh, I’m sure there was a leader called Paragonimffet and she was brave and resourceful but I’m equally certain Triss’s view of her came from romantic novels rather than history books. We’ve hundreds of similar heroes and heroines on my world and I’m sure you do, too.”
She laughed. “We have our share. And I agree with you. Her story had all the hallmarks of a myth. Thanks for sort of taking control like that.”
“Oh, I have a vested interest,” I leered. “I still want to get into her panties.”
She laughed. “Somehow I don’t think you’ll have any problem there.”
“I might have getting these pants off.”
“They are rather revealing, aren’t they?”
“Yum.”
She laughed loudly. “Crawford, you’re incorrigible.”
My communicator sounded. It was Taragis wanting to know if it was safe to come up. Triss emerged from the bedroom. Now we’d made up, I realised that, as I had when we first met, she was a very lovely girl.
“Do you still want me on your spaceship?” she asked.
“You’re coming? Wonderful. Of course I want you. Who else is coming?”
“Madam Dibhach, Madam Yongsam and Madam Dak’kassia,” Barbita said.
“I don’t think I know Madam Dak’kassia.”
“She’s from Mowglania.” As if that meant anything to me.
Taragis arrived and introduced his girlfriend as Tsabella Biscarolasaga. I thought she looked rather plain and dumpy but Taragis was clearly besotted and it looked as though the feeling was mutual. I decided to ham it up a bit.
“Madam Biscarolasaga,” I said, stepping forward and kissing the back of her hand. “I am overwhelmed to meet the woman with the wit, intelligence and beauty to capture the heart of my good friend Taragis.” I winked at her. “If not his heart then some other part of his anatomy.”
She giggled and flushed scarlet. Taragis put a protective arm around her shoulders.
“Get off,” he said. “You’ve got more than enough women of your own. Keep your hands off mine.”
I threw my hands up in mock surrender. “All right. I’ll concede this one.”
“You’re a bit more cheerful than you were earlier.”
“Yes. I’m sorry about that. You caught me at a bad moment. What’s the itinerary today, boss?”
“Boss? Since when was I the boss?”
“Just trying to make you look good for your girlfriend,” I said with a grin.
He turned to her. “You really can’t get the staff these days.” She giggled. He turned back to me. “If you remember, you’re visiting the Halls of Righteous Government this afternoon to meet the Paralogicators…”
“Why?” I interrupted.
“Why what?”
“Why am I meeting these Para-whatsists?”
“Because they asked to see you.”
“Why?”
“Crawford, you’re being difficult again.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just asking a simple question. Why do the Para-thingies want to see me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“Good?”
“Yes. Now, who are these people?”
&nb
sp; “I was about to explain that before I was interrupted.”
“Sorry.”
“The Paralogicators are the representatives of the Geretimalian parliament. There are Paralogicators Fundamental, who represent the various regions and interest groups on the planet, and Paralogicators Exalted. They are senior Paralogicators and they propose laws, investigate things, liaise with the Heirarchs, supervise the Congregation and that sort of thing. At the top is the Paralogicator Supreme, our head of state. The more senior Exalteds, generally known as Extremes, run the various committees that are responsible for transport and health and agriculture and manufacturing and so on. The committee members are Fundamentals. There are also committees composed only of Extremes. These tend to be policy and review committees. The elite of the Exalteds, together with the Supreme Paralogicator himself, form the Supreme Council.
“You’re scheduled to meet Sir Glorious-Advancement Aide-of-the-Gods. He’s pretty senior and runs all sorts of committees. I don’t know in which capacity he wants to see you.”
The weird descriptions baffled me. I tried to put them into terms I was familiar with. Paralogicators seemed to be like Members of Parliament; Fundamentals were ordinary MPs and Exalteds Government ministers. The Supreme would be the Prime Minister or, perhaps, the President. The committees sounded a bit like the Commons Select Committees but I was sure they weren't. The Supreme Council sounded a bit like the Cabinet. Without knowing, and I certainly wasn't going to ask, about the political set-up on Geretimal I could only guess.
“Okay. So I’d better be prepared for anything, then.”
“I don’t think it’ll be too bad. You’re not a citizen of the Theocracy so they can’t put you under oath… or even make you turn up. It was a request we received, not an order.”
“But it’s a request I’d better not refuse?” I said with a grin.
“It would be preferable if you didn’t,” he said with a rather pained expression.
“I’ve never seen the Halls,” Tsabella said.
“Want to come with me?” I asked.
“Could we?” She looked at Taragis.
“Well,” he said doubtfully. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, please,” Tsabella begged.
“I suppose we could. They didn’t actually say only Crawford was invited.”
“Thank you, Taragis.” She gave him a hug and he gave an embarrassed grin.
Barbita and Triss begged off.
“So it’s just the three of us. By the way, we need to go via the Interpellators’ office. I need to see Senior Interlocutor Respectful-Veneration.”
“Why?”
“Because I told him about last night and he wants me to identify the beings involved.”
“Oh. Right. Well, we’d better go soon, then.”
“I’ll tell him we’ll be there in, what, an hour?”
He nodded. The Senior Interlocutor said he’d be available.
“How about inviting your girlfriend,” Taragis said once Barbita and Triss had left.
I looked at him narrowly. “You know altogether far too much about my private life.”
“It’s my job to know all about you,” he said, looking entirely too innocent.
“I think that’s over and above the call of duty. I asked her earlier but she’s busy.”
It was a lie, of course, but I wasn't entirely happy that he knew about Flerrionna and me. I wondered how he’d found out. Also, I didn’t want to take the risk of any hint of my real plans for my space trip getting out, even inadvertently.
The Interpellators inhabited a nondescript and anonymous building near the city centre. It was an old building and felt it. Unlike a police station at home, there were no uniforms about. If fact it could have been a commercial office from its appearance. Senior Interlocutor Respectful-Veneration occupied a small and cluttered room on the top floor. He welcomed us warmly and sat me down in front of a display pad. He showed me a series of images of beings of all types but didn’t give me any names or other clue as to who they were. I was able to positively identify two of the beings who were in the group who harassed me and one with less certainly. As I identified them he pursed his lips thoughtfully but said nothing. We were dismissed with his grateful thanks.
“I recognised some of these beings,” Tsabella said as we left.
“So did I.” Taragis was frowning. “It might be best if you didn’t mention this to anyone.”
“Why not?”
Taragis glanced at me. “It’s not public knowledge but the Interpellators believe Crawford’s ‘food poisoning’ at Sir Adderhay’s party wasn't accidental.”
“Not accidental? You mean… it was deliberate?”
“Shh,” Taragis hissed, flapping his hands. “Yes. That’s why I think you should keep quiet. If it was deliberate then it might upset their investigation if it became common knowledge. You know what the rumour mill’s like.”
“Don’t I just. Okay, just for you… though it’s a shame to sit on a juicy bit of gossip like this.”
“I’d be grateful,” I said.
We lunched at an unpretentious café frequented mainly by harassed-looking office workers. It was a bit like a tapas bar. There were tubs of various foods on display and you ordered your selection. A quantity of each was put into small bowls and you ate by either picking bits out or scooping out dollops with things that resembled long tortilla chips. It was the first time I’d eaten ‘normal’ Bartimarm food and it was an interesting experience.
The Halls of Righteous Government were situated at one end of a large plaza. At the other end was a temple, although cathedral might be a better word. On either side were public buildings; the law courts, the central museum, the Bartimarm City Assembly Halls and so on. To say the Halls of Righteous Government were imposing would be like saying the Empire State Building is quite tall. Like many buildings in Bartimarm, structurally it was a series of overlapping and integrated hemispheres. The result was an infinite complexity of curves and domes and bits of domes. Each hemisphere was a slightly different colour ranging from pure white through subtle blues, greens, pinks, yellows, greys, creams and beiges. You could imagine that, at different times of the day and at different seasons, the angle of the sun would make the building look entirely different.
A paved roadway of complicated design curved in from the width of the plaza leading the eye, and the pedestrian, to a flight of shallow steps which swept up to a pillared walkway that curved away round the building. Entrances were situated at regular intervals, each one, Taragis informed me, leading to a different part of the building.
I confess I was open-mouthed as we climbed the steps and made our way to the appropriate entrance. This was the first thing I’d seen in Bartimarm, other than the hotel, that had impressed me favourably. I wanted to strike out and explore it.
The entrance led to circular atrium with an intricately tiled floor. A number of corridors led off from the hall. An arched walkway ran round half the hall about half way up. On the walls were massive paintings of groups of Geretimalians dressed in strange formal costumes and scenes from Geretimalian history. Beings, mainly Geretimalians, singly or in groups, strode purposefully through the hall moving from one corridor to the other or congregated in clumps which coalesced and separated in almost continuous motion. In the middle of the hall was a reception desk.
A very polite being dressed in powder blue, not a Geretimalian, directed us to one of the radiating corridors. The corridors were more like tunnels: it was the arched roofs that did it. The geography of the building was very alien. Instead of long corridors with rooms leading off, the corridor we took led quickly to another hall which had its own series of radiating corridors. These, in turn, led to other halls with more corridors. The image of one of these models of molecules popped into my head, the one where the atoms are represented by spheres and the bonds between them by tubes only the Halls were in two dimensions not three. Each hall had a different theme and colour scheme. Some were furnished
with chairs or settees or storage cupboards or small tables or desks, seemingly at random. The oddest thing, though, was that, in many halls there would be a group of beings engaged in earnest conversation. Most of them wore tall red hats and a few blue.
“Paralogicators,” Taragis explained. “Fundamentals wear red and Exalteds blue.”
“What are they doing?” I asked.
“Debating. That’s their job.”
“Don’t they have a single place to do that?”
“No. Why would they want that?”
“Well, our parliament has a single chamber where all the, er, Paralogicators gather. The, um, Exalteds, explain what laws they want to pass and the Paralogicators debate it. At the end of the debate they all vote. If the supporters of the Government win, the laws are passed.”
“What a strange and inefficient system. Here the Paralogicators say what their interests are; law, health, the economy, and so on. They’re then assigned to one of more Hall Meets. Each Hall Meet is run by an Exalted. The Exacted sets the agenda and explains why a particular issue is being raised. The Meet discuss it and agree a course of action which the Exalted notes. The Exalted takes the proposed action to one of the more senior Meets and presents it to the other Exalteds. Again the issue is discussed and the action either agreed or sent back for further discussion.”
“But how is anything decided?”
“Oh, the Supreme Paralogicator decides with the help of the Supreme Council; they wear yellow hats. Sir Aide-of-the-Gods, whom you’re meeting, is a yellow hat.”
I knew it couldn’t be as simple as that. Politicians, whatever their posturing, rarely acted in a spirit of pure public interest. Geretimal society was old and stable and, consequently, rigid and stratified. Corruption and bureaucracy were rife in the Lottery Commission. Why should the Government be any different? I decided to keep my mouth shut.
Taragis seemed to be looking for something. He gave a little grunt of satisfaction and stopped in a hall where a group of blue hats were clustered around a yellow hat.
“Now what?” I whispered.
“We wait. The being with the yellow hat is Sir Aide-of-the-Gods.”
We didn’t have to wait long. Sir Aide-of-the-Gods spotted us and raised his hand to halt the flow of words from the blue hat who was speaking.
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