by Pam Uphoff
Next up, the magicfacturer.
"Epru Withione Cuchilla Montevideo, correct?"
The man looked amused. "Of course. But I suppose you have to ask. Do come in. Inez, two coffees, please."
The maid hanging around in the background retreated further.
Ox followed Epru into an open airy room. The large house was up on a modest rise and had a panoramic view of the whole enclave, and over roof tops, of the ocean. The view was actually improved by the breaks for the high rises closer to the beach.
"How well did you know Ogto?"
Epru shrugged. "I've never bothered with politics, I'm in electronics manufacturing. Oh, I'm a member of the War Party, of course. But I barely bother paying attention to local politics. And the locals had nothing to do with that . . . mess in Paris. So I more knew who Ogto was, than really knew him. We spoke briefly at the reunion . . . well, we wound up in the same circle, listening to him and his soon-to-be-ex wife snip at each other."
"Oh?"
The maid shuffled in, a tray with coffee in two cups, cream and sugar in dainty little containers. She set it down and shuffled away.
Epru took a cup and settled back. "It wasn't much, just 'You haven't kept up on the paperwork' and 'you didn't return all my stuff.' Snotty comments about the joys of living in genteel poverty and had he managed to scrape up any more income or was she going to be paying him maintenance? Pathetic, really. The wife's sister tried to play the peacemaker. She joked about all the government decisions being made at parties. Umm, hell of a glow. I don't know why anyone would be interested in the older sister, with that one around. Pity about the injuries. You could tell there was something wrong, there."
Ox sipped the very good coffee. "When did you leave the reunion? I believe you saw the . . . excitement outside?"
"I'm afraid I left before it happened, so I can't help you much there.
"Indeed. Thank you for your time, sir." He walked out, pondering the difference between repeated gossip, and coached responses. With this group, coached responses would be unnecessary. Drop a few comments and the gossip would fly.
Then on to the City of Montevideo.
"Governor Itsu, thank you for seeing me so promptly. I'll keep this short. I am investigating the murder of Ogto Withione."
The Governor of Uruguay Divison, Itsu Withione Enciso Boqueron, was tall and dark, an aquiline nose dominated his face, and his body language was aggressive.
"Poor fellow." The Governor shook his head. "He was in obvious distress. Someone said they'd already called for the medics, so I told him he should lie down and wait for the ambulance. But he shoved me away. He stepped right into the path of that car. It wasn't moving fast, but it can't have helped the situation."
Ox nodded. "And I believe his wife was there?"
"Errr. Not out at the front entrance, that I noticed. That argument they had was earlier, inside. At least a couple of hours earlier."
"Can you tell me what they said? In as exact wording as possible?"
"Oh, well. Raod . . . Umm, Do you realize that she was my third wife? I was her first husband. I was just a city councilman at that point in my life."
Ox nodded.
"We were being very formal and distant, just talking about cars, mostly. None of us were terribly interested in sports. Then Og walked up. 'What, can't let go of this one either?' he said. Raod looked blank, then said something like, 'How nice to see you again, Ogto.' And he said, 'Yes it's been a year and a half or so hasn't it? About time to finish up that divorce or I'll start insisting on conjugal rights.' Which was quite tasteless of the fellow. No surprise she got a bit snippy. 'And you can finally return my backup drives.' And said something about a different sort of lawyer. He said he'd dig her stuff out of the attic." The Governor flashed a grin. "Then her sister showed up, and acted silly—can't believe anything a princess says or does, you know? Anyway, she broke the stare down and Raod hauled her away. We talked cars again, kind of awkward and stiff after that scene. Someone said something about Ogto's fancy new vehicle, Eglo said something about he must have finally gotten some money, don't let you wife find out. Then we sort of drifted apart." His face fell a bit. "Princesses. One, they'll send me another one, when Heut . . . dies. Won't they? Heut has been such a good friend . . . "
Ox eyed him. Apparently the rumors about his princess having terminal cancer had it right, for a change.
The governor shook himself. "Sorry. I don't recall that I spoke to either Raod or Ogto, again until I was out waiting for my car, and Ogto came out and . . . You said murder?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so."
The governor's brows dived together. "I really don't think Raod is . . . that type."
The Mayor of Montevideo was busy, but stepped out of a meeting to confirm the argument between Ogto and Raod. "Check out that princess sister, is all I can recommend. You know what they say about them, and their poisons. Looks just like a heart attack, they say."
Chapter Fifteen
Friday, 18 Safar 1398
Rael thought it over, and decided that taking a taxi all the way to Montevideo was not only too expensive, it would ignore yet another possible source of gossip. She bought a month's pass from the commuter bus company and managed to get aboard without showing too much of a handicap. More stair exercises. Tall stairs.
She took an aisle seat beside an older woman and pulled out her reader as the early bus pulled out. With luck, no one would recognize her. The papers that published a picture of the widow's sister in their articles about the investigation into Ogto's murder had all used old pics, with her hair short, and carrying a good fifteen to twenty more pounds of muscles than she had now.
Today she'd combed her hair to fall around her face and to her shoulders in back, dressed in typical woman's business attire—cream blouse, black skirt, high heels. Well, she'd opted for the lowest heels that still filled the stereotype.
She pulled up a news story on the murder. "Still? Must be a slow news week. Of course, I suppose the police must be interviewing all the staff."
The woman ignored her, but the man across the aisle leaned to look at her reader. "Poor Ogto. I suppose the only surprise is that there aren't more murders in that stupid game." He sat back with a grunt. No other gossip, very little talking, half the passengers dozing, the other half reading. Rael joined them.
An hour later she climbed back off the bus in Montevideo.
It had been a long time since she'd been in any of the government buildings . . . City offices in that building there, including the mayor's office. A consolidated Hall of Justice containing all the City, District, Division and Imperial courts. And the Imperial building, where her father worked. The inner doors passed her automatically. She still had her implanted ID from the Presidential Directorate. A directory showed her the layout. Dad's Ministry of Transportation, among others. The Interior Directorate office would investigate any Imperial level crimes, or crimes that crossed Division borders. Nothing to do with a single murder, of course. No, nothing here for her. She walked out and headed for the City offices.
Might as well start with the mayor's office.
Or not. The mayor's office was an entire miniature bureaucracy, a maze to be run before one could even get to his secretary, let alone all the way into the mayor's actual presence. Rael eyed the two man reception desk that blocked access to the maze of corridors behind.
"Excuse me!"
Rael jumped out of the way of a fresh faced young lady . . . did a double take . . . Princess. Trained. She dropped her own shields partway, and the girl's head snapped around. Scanned her from head to tail and returned to the red hair.
"Are you Rael?" A faint squeak in the voice as her eyes widened.
"Yeah . . . are you the Mayor's . . . " She stopped as the girl's head bobbed.
"I'm Beir. Umm, Bunny. Umm . . . "
"Oh, don't let me disturb you, I'm just wandering around checking out where everything is. Boredom as much as old habits."
"N
o, no, no. No problem. C'mon back to my office."
She led the way past the disapproving frowns of the reception staff, and through a side door. "Frankly, I don't have anything to do. I've been here for three years and I just get treated like a . . . nuisance. Half the time Mayor Eglo leaves without bothering to tell me. I . . . hadn't realized it would be so hard to . . . connect with anyone." The girl heaved a sigh and her face fell.
One! The child can't be over . . . well, she must be at least twenty four. And no contacts? Well, yeah, I'm used to Paris where you can't turn around without tripping over a princess.
Here? I'll bet the entire Uruguay Division has less than a dozen.
Frankly, Montevideo is just too far removed and unimportant to warrant the sort of attention from the One that results in the assigning of the most deadly and emotionally cold princesses.
Not that it did any good. Getting around an Assigned Princess isn't that difficult.
Rael eyed the girl. "I suppose Eglo had a good relationship with his old princess?"
She looked dubious. "I don't think so. Else I wouldn't have started off so . . . completely disregarded. Sneered at." She turned down a side corridor and opened the door to a small office. A few pictures on the wall and desk. Otherwise bare.
"Humph. And he's not married now, so it's not a problem with his wife, is it?"
"Oh, no. Well, frankly he's just dead boring in bed. And he gets bored. He goes through girlfriends at a rate of one a month, if not more. Then he's tired of them, and tries another." She shrugged, misery leaking through. "He's had me, now I'm boring. Underfoot and . . . useless."
Deliberately manipulated. Sidelined and not able to peek into her principal's thoughts. "Well, you are certainly not going to be effective if you aren't able to monitor what he's up to." Rael thought that over. "You know . . . sometimes you have to admit defeat and retreat. It sounds like Eglo needs an experienced battle axe of a princess, no sex at all, and . . . well, someone obnoxiously pushy."
Bunny slumped a little, but her eyes brightened. She wants out. She does not want to admit defeat. But she likes the idea of Eglo dealing with an aggressive princess.
"It's not really defeat, honey. Sometimes the infantry needs to get out of the way and let the tanks roll in. Is there a temple around here? I think a long talk with a priest might be in order." Rael shrugged. "My first assignment ended in a disaster. Umm, and then so did the second, but it was a whole different sort of disaster." She let herself grin. "So, give me a tour of the office here, eh? We can parade around a bit, maybe even be a tad obnoxiously pushy."
". . . and this is the Mayoral Suite."
Rael followed Bunny though the big double door and into an office the size of the President's. A sweeping view out over the mouth of the Rio de la Plata, sunlight gleaming off waves.
Big desk, big conference table. Expensive art on the walls.
An absence of Mayor. A snorting indignant executive secretary on their heels.
Rael failed entirely to keep the grin off her face. "Wow, now that's some view. Man, you ought to just plant yourself in a chair and kick back and admire it. There's the marina, and the big container loading facility . . . "
"She has her own office." Oh yes, the secretary was very unhappy.
Rael ignored her. "I'll bet the mayor spends half his time wishing he was out on one of those yachts. Look at that big one."
"You can't just come barging in here . . . "
Rael swung around and stared at her. "I beg your pardon? Are you saying the mayor blocks his assigned princess? You deny the authority of the One? I think perhaps you are taking a bit too much authority on yourself, Miss."
The woman gawped like a fish out of water.
"C'mon Beir, let's do lunch."
Beir gulped and didn't quite scurry past the woman, but . . . Oh, the mayor is going to get a big fat nasty surprise. I wonder what he's been doing that he wants to conceal from the One? Murder? Or . . . this has been going on for three years, or more? Bunny's been here since well before the assassination attempt, so maybe just ordinary graft.
On the street, Beir nervously pointed out the various sights, slowing and falling silent as they walked past the mosque, and around to the grounds, the offices of the One in Montevideo. Such as they were. Uruguay is such a backwater, in terms of political power. And Montevideo is just the capital of a single division in a moderately prosperous region. We don't give the Empire enough trouble to warrant a bigger presence. Even the One here is mostly religious. Concerned with individual souls, not worrying about the greater whole.
Rael dropped her shields altogether. Beir gave her a startled glance and did the same. She felt a third glow, the local strong connection to the One. A priest who had been a part of the One, who still held a shadow of the whole. One single glow, probably the only part of the hive mind in the District. Rael led the way and found a man waiting for them.
"Princess Rael, Princess Beir. I am One Usgy. What is the problem?"
Beir floundered a bit, then sank into the priest's regard. "I . . . am failing at this assignment."
"Yes. How interesting." The priest's glance sheared to Rael.
"There has been a murder. Actually multiple attempts, one successful. And we have no idea if the mayor is involved, or doing something that would make him consider murder to cover it up."
"I see." He gestured them toward chairs and sat at his desk and tapped away at his computer, like any other bureaucrat. "Beir, you will fly to Medinah tonight. You need to return to the Princess school for different training."
The girl winced. Nodded. She knows there's a good chance she'll be strongly encouraged to find employment elsewhere. Poor kid, we're such a backwater town, the mayor unimportant. They just tossed in a random graduate of no particular skill.
"A new Princess will be sent. The mayor will repent and cease any illegal activities."
Beir suddenly paled. She also understands the "or else" that Usgy left unspoken.
"Go home and pack."
They bowed themselves out.
Beir was blinking back tears.
"Bunny, I'm sorry."
She shook her head. "It had to be done. I knew it two years ago . . . I wasn't even strong enough to quit myself." She heaved a deep sigh. "It's already a relief. C'mon, I'll show you how a mayor lives."
This mayor lived very well, in a sprawling mansion in the best neighborhood in the city. Rael gazed wistfully at the closed door of Eglo's home office. Unfortunately, even I know better than to search his desk. I don't think Urfa would be amused if I were arrested. Would it be burglary or trespass, to enter a closed office not belonging to the inhabitant who was escorting me?
An auto van from a shipping company showed up to take three boxes that were all the girl had accumulated , then Rael took her off for a late lunch. Sent her off in an autocab for the airport and walked back to the bus terminal.
Enough for one day. I need to think about how to find out why Eglo needed to shut out the One.
And maybe find out why his previous princess left . . . or what she died of.
***
Rael paused at the sight of Pudge and Jude cooing over the twins. Raod was beaming proudly, and Jaes standing well back, looking professional . . . and a bit tense.
Rael circled around to her. "Afraid they'll drop one?"
"They . . . don't seem to have had much experience holding babies."
Rael grinned. "How bad was Raod, at first?"
Jess snickered. "Lacking experience, but she'd read extensively. By the time she was home from the hospital, she was an expert."
Rael paused. "They kept her? I hadn't realized there were any problems . . . " She broke off at Jess's head shake.
"They're always careful with twins, but they were close enough to full term, and if a bit small, their lungs were healthy. The doctors sent them home after three days."
Rael glanced over as her mother bustled in. "I expect mother drove the doctors crazy. Did . . . O
gto come to the hospital? I'm afraid I don't know how their relationship fell out."
Jess shrugged.
Right. Never gossip about your employer.
Moah trotted in with a tray full of nibblements, and Rael drifted that direction.
"Lemonade, Senorita?"
"Oh, whatever everyone is having."
"I have made a big pitcher of iced tea."
"That sounds good." She snitched a cracker and wandered back to the others.
"Marvelous red hair. Ryol is going to be such a beauty." Joud stroked the baby's hair. "You are so lucky."
Puuj was snuggling the other one. "I like this little skinny boy." She wiggled her fingers in the general vicinity of his belly and the boy giggled and kicked in excitement.
"So . . . is it going to take you two, what, two more husbands each until you have babies of your own?" Rael settled into a chair, this time with her back to the ocean view, and good light on the other women's faces.
"I hate these stupid Oner fertility problems. What were they thinking, those people who engineered us? Whoever they were." Puuj rocked the baby. "I'm a very high Neartuone. So most Neartuone men can't get me pregnant. But very few Withiones want to marry me—in the game that's like admitting they can't get a Withione pregnant. And there's a larger chance the baby won't get even a single complete set."
"Oh horrors." Rael wrinkled her nose. "You know, there's a whole lot of genes on the insertions that don't do a thing, magically."
Joud sniffed. "Easy for you to say, Princess. You've got everything."
"Actually, no. The One insists on two sets of insertions, but doesn't worry about a dropped gene or two, depending on which genes, of course." Rael shrugged. "I'm missing a few that they considered unimportant. I'm just a . . ."
"Rael!" Her sister and mother managed a pretty good chorus.
Rael grinned, and continued. "So in the entire Empire, there might be as many as four thousand men who could beat my count. But frankly? I'm not interested in hunting for one of them."