TRUE to her word, immediately after Ysella and Dekkard returned to the house, she went up to her room. She returned carrying an oversized book with a hand-tooled cover, which she handed to him. There was no title on the spine.
“It’s a loose-leaf book,” she said. “The pages are locked in place, but if you unlock the mechanism, you can add or replace pages. Please don’t. There are only two copies of it, and this copy stays in the house, and in your room when you’re not reading or studying it.”
“What is it?”
“It’s your information book. The first part is a simplified guide to the procedures of the Council. Some of that you already know. You need to learn the rest. The second part is the actual text of the Great Charter, not the summary that’s available to everyone, but the original text with the few subsequent amendments. The legalists’ text, if you will. The third part contains information on every current member of the Council of Sixty-Six as well information on important members of their staff. If you discover information on councilors or staffers not in the book, write it up and give it to Councilor Obreduur in an unmarked envelope.”
“I’m supposed to learn all this? How soon?”
“You need to read it all in the next day or so, then start learning what you don’t know. You’re only to talk about what’s in it to me or the councilor, or to Ivann or Svard if something you recall is pertinent to something before the Council.”
Dekkard looked down at the volume that he held, neither slender nor excessively thick, but he judged that it held several hundred sheets. “I’d better get started.”
“You should.” Ysella smiled warmly. “I did enjoy the shopping and lunch.” She paused. “I have some work to do as well. I’ll see you later.”
She turned and headed upstairs.
Dekkard looked down at the book, a volume that suddenly felt much heavier.
Rather than go upstairs to his room, which was often uncomfortably warm in the afternoon, he carried the book into the staff room and sat at one end of the table, where he opened the book, skimming through the first section just to get a feel for the procedures. When he got to the second section it only took a few lines to see why the version of the Great Charter most people read was the abridged and concise version.
… in the course of social and political affairs that both impel and constrain any political entity, particularly one as geographically and culturally diverse as the Empire of Gold, the making and enforcement of civil codes and military regulations cannot be left to the passions of a moment, or even of an age. Nor can such laws and regulations be so rigid that there is no latitude to deal with changes in the machines of men or in the threats and opportunities posed by other powers in the world …
The rationale for the Great Charter went on for a full five pages. Dekkard had to admit that all the reasons made sense, and that Laureous the Great, or more likely his legalist advisors, had thought matters through thoroughly. But more than five printed pages in small type before reaching the actual provisions?
The third section began with the listing of all sixty-six Councilors, arranged by party and by seniority within that party. Next came a listing of the standing committees, followed by the responsibilities of each committee, and the current members by party. Then came the entries on each councilor, arranged by party and by seniority within the party. Unlike the first two sections, which were printed, the entries on councilors were handwritten, in various hands.
There were images in black ink of perhaps fifteen councilors, but most entries had no depictions.
Dekkard was slightly surprised that the book was already updated to reflect Oskaar Ulrich as the new premier, although the entry noted that he was actually third in seniority in the Commerce Party.
Among Ulrich’s staff, Jaime Minz was listed as an isolate security aide for the Security Committee, with the notation that he also performed “other duties as necessary.”
Dekkard leafed to the back of the section on Landor councilors and found the entry on Councilor Saarh.
Jareem Askal Saarh
Appointed Councilor 21 Springfirst 1266
[filling vacancy caused by the death of Councilor Wilhelm Kall Freust]
Committees: Agriculture, Waterways
Married Maelle Kall Freust 30 Springend 1258
Youngest daughter of Councilor Freust and Clydia Aash Freust [deceased]
Two children: Clydiana b. 1259
Jareld b. 1261
Landor, Khuld—holdings comprising 5,500 hectares, 200 hectares [cherry orchards] south of Malek received as partial dowry. 800 hectares in vineyards, white commercial grapes, moderate quality, vintage largely exported. 4,000 hectares in melons, wheat corn, and maize.
Estimated annual holding revenues: M100,000
Annual Debt Service: M30,000
Annual Operating Expenses: M32,000 [est]
Holding Expenses: M30,000 [est]
Dekkard almost let out a low whistle. While Saarh also earned five thousand marks a year as a councilor, not counting a four-thousand-mark expense account, that meant his actual income after expenses amounted to thirteen thousand marks a year, and there was no way a Landor could live on that … unless he had significant investment income. But if Saarh had that, why was he paying debt service?
And how had Obreduur come up with the financial figures?
Dekkard kept reading.
Voting plurality, previous election: LP 37%, CRF 34%, COM 29%
Saarh is moderately good speaker, but lacks ability to generate confidence. Impassioned in private, diffident in public …
Then he went to look for the page on Obreduur. It only held the basics about the councilor, the names of his family, the voting percentages in the last two elections, and the fact that he’d previously been guildmeister for the Stevedores Guild and, following that, Crafters Guild coordinator for the Oersynt-Malek and Gaarlak districts.
And that his wife is a practicing legalist.
Had moving from guildmeister to a district coordinator between guilds been to reestablish Obreduur’s ties to Malek and to build support for his election?
Obreduur as guildmeister of the Stevedores? That suggested a much tougher side to the councilor than Dekkard had yet seen.
He looked down at the still-open book. He had a lot to learn and not very much time in which to do it.
Do you really know what you’re getting yourself into?
Dekkard shook his head, even as he realized that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life as a mere security aide … or even a higher-paid commercial security type.
17
WHEN Dekkard woke on Unadi morning, it was from a sleep filled with dreams in which he had had been trying to match names and faces … and in which he never quite could, as if what he had learned or read about each did not quite match what he saw.
As if that’s not true about most of us.
Since he was slightly later than usual getting down to breakfast and Rhosali was already talking to Ysella, Dekkard held off asking questions he had from perusing the book and merely said, “Good morning,” before taking his café, croissants, and quince paste.
“Tomorrow will be tomato jelly, Steffan,” said Hyelda from the door to the staff room. “We’re running low on the quince.”
His mouth full, Dekkard nodded.
His breakfasting time was cut even shorter because Ritten Obreduur requested him to fill up her steamer and light it off so that he had no chance to talk seriously with Ysella. Since he’d filled the steamer’s tanks on Quindi, he wondered where the Ritten had been on endday that had so depleted them.
Then, on the drive to the Council Office Building, Obreduur cleared his throat meaningfully and said, “Steffan … Sometime this morning, I will be signing the forms to promote you to an assistant specialist. Technically, you’ll be a security and assistant economic specialist. Once the forms are filed, you’ll be issued a pin like the ones worn by Ivann, Svard, and Felix. Avraal already has hers. You�
��re to keep it with you at all times, but you’re not to wear it except when you’re on professional duties, rather than security duties. When you leave the Council grounds to speak as an economic specialist, you’ll have to change into a security-gray suit.”
“Avraal had mentioned that, sir. I bought two suits like that yesterday, but they won’t be ready until Duadi evening.”
“What she may not have mentioned is that you can still carry a truncheon when wearing a suit, but I’d recommend a personal length one if you’re not on Council property or duties. Do you have one?”
“Yes, sir. From security training. It’s a little battered, but more than adequate.”
“Good.” Obreduur nodded and returned to perusing his papers.
Once Dekkard reached the office, Karola already had petitions and letters on his desk. There was also no word from the office of Health and Education Minister Sanoffre, but then it had been less than a week since the proposed new job descriptions had been sent. Dekkard went to work until a third before noon.
At that point, Obreduur came out of his office and motioned to Ysella and Dekkard. “You two can escort me to the councilors’ dining room and then go eat. When you finish, just wait outside the dining room. I won’t be much longer than you.”
Dekkard took that to mean that he and Ysella shouldn’t tarry over their meal. “Yes, sir.” He stood, checked his gladius and truncheon, and then led the way out into the main corridor.
When the three reached the councilors’ dining room, Obreduur gestured to another councilor, and he and the other man proceeded inside.
“That’s Councilor Hasheem, isn’t it?” Dekkard asked Ysella.
“How did you know?”
“He’s one of the few in the book where there’s an image.”
The two turned toward the staff cafeteria. Just as they were about to step through the archway, a blond woman in a conservative blue suit who was leaving turned toward them. “Avraal … I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“The councilor keeps us tied down. You’ve met Steffan before?”
“Just for a moment.”
It took several moments for Dekkard to place the aide—Shayala Raeverte, from Councilor Kuuresoh’s staff—but he managed to reply. “It’s good to see you again, Shayala, if only in passing.”
“You’re too kind.” Shayala paused just slightly before asking, “Have you heard anything about Kraffeist hearings?”
“The Waterways Committee or the Workplace Administration Committee aren’t exactly involved in coal leases,” said Ysella dryly. “What about you?”
Raeverte shook her head. “I’m just getting the feeling something nasty is about to happen, but I couldn’t say what, but the councilor’s said absolutely nothing.”
“Neither has ours,” said Ysella.
“I’d hoped…” Raeverte glanced to Dekkard. “It’s nice to see you again, but I need to run.” Then she hurried away.
“She’s gotten that feel from somewhere,” said Ysella quietly, “but she doesn’t want to say.”
“Councilor Kuuresoh is on the Military Affairs Committee, and he’s a more senior Commercer,” said Dekkard. “The Navy has to be upset about paying Eastern more for coal that the ironway got cheaply and from the coal reserve. He’s likely not saying, but maybe she senses something.”
“That could be,” replied Ysella, “but she’s fishing.”
“Because of Obreduur’s position as Craft political leader?”
“What else?”
As the two headed toward the cafeteria serving area, Dekkard noted that the seating area wasn’t nearly as crowded as usual, but then, they were early. He decided on lamb milanesia, except with a verde sauce on the side for the polenta. Ysella chose a fresh fruit salad. Since there was a corner table available, they took it.
Dekkard didn’t say much until he’d eaten several bites. He’d had better lamb, but he’d also had much worse, especially at the Institute. “What do you think will happen with the Kraffeist Affair?”
“Ulrich will investigate and report the results in a way that doesn’t seem like he’s hiding anything, but which keeps hidden certain matters. That’s what the Imperador wants.”
“But if Ulrich tries to hide something,” said Dekkard, “and someone can prove it, the Imperador might have to call new elections. The Commerce Party might lose more seats to the Craft Party. Isn’t that a benefit?”
“It might be, but new elections would also cost senior councilors not in leadership positions in all three parties their seats. Is a new election worth it to any of them?” asked Ysella. “Beyond that, there’s another reason to be considered.”
Dekkard just sat there for a moment. What other reason?
“Think about that, Steffan. Now … finish your lamb. The councilor said he wouldn’t be long.”
Dekkard resumed eating, wondering what the other reason might be. The Landors wouldn’t want new elections, because they’d lose at least one seat and possibly more. The Commerce Party wouldn’t want immediate elections because the cause for those elections would have been the perceived failure of two successive premiers and that perception could cost them yet more seats. Those both made sense. But why wouldn’t the Craft Party want new elections when the party kept gaining seats with each election?
Dekkard had the feeling he was missing something very obvious, but he couldn’t see it. He finished the lamb and the polenta quickly, and before long he and Ysella were headed back to wait on one of the benches outside the councilors’ dining room.
They hadn’t even quite reached an empty bench when Ysella murmured, “Here comes Fernand Stoltz, chief legalist for the Public Resources Committee.”
“It looks like you two are waiting for your councilor,” said Stoltz pleasantly, clearly addressing Avraal.
“And you’re doing the same, it appears,” replied Dekkard cheerfully. “Or your chairman, I should say.”
“You should.” Stoltz’s voice was neutral. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“You probably wouldn’t remember. Steffan Dekkard. Isolate security and assistant economic specialist.”
Stoltz frowned.
“He’s been with the councilor several years,” said Ysella. “When are you beginning the investigatory hearings on the Kraffeist Affair?”
“That’s up to the chairman.”
“Will the hearing deal with the differentials in coal prices?” asked Dekkard diffidently.
“That’s also up to the chairman.” Stoltz smiled pleasantly. “It’s good to see you get out of the office every so often, Avraal. Until later.” Ignoring Dekkard, he turned and walked away.
“I didn’t know you’d met Fernand,” said Ysella quietly.
“I hadn’t. Even if we had met, he probably wouldn’t have remembered. He’s that type. Besides, now he’ll wonder, and that’s good for someone that arrogant.”
Ysella couldn’t quite smother a smile, although she did say, “Just remember … Fernand can be vindictive.”
“Almost anyone who’s that arrogant is vindictive, but I didn’t say anything negative to him. I just asked a question, and he answered it. What was his hidden emotional reaction to my question?”
“He didn’t like it.”
“Does that mean that Chairman Schmidtz doesn’t want to deal with that issue?”
“Would you?” Ysella turned slightly. “The councilor is heading our way.”
They both stood and moved to meet Obreduur.
“Did you two have a pleasant lunch?”
“We did,” replied Dekkard. “And you, sir?”
“It was … instructive. Did you find out anything interesting?” Obreduur looked to Ysella.
“Steffan asked the head legalist of the Public Resources Committee whether the chairman would go into prices the Navy paid for coal. He said that was up to the chairman, but he wasn’t pleased.”
“Excellent question, Steffan. Thank you for noting his reaction, Avraal.”
&nbs
p; The corridor and the covered portico leading from the Council Hall to the Council Office Building contained enough people that Obreduur said nothing on the way back to the office.
Dekkard went back to dealing with letters and petitions until slightly after the second bell of the afternoon, when Roostof returned from a meeting brandishing a newssheet, pointing to Ysella and then to Dekkard. “You two should see the afternoon edition of Gestirn now.”
“Why now?” asked Dekkard.
“Because when the councilor reads it, he’ll keep it, and you should see for yourselves.” Roostof handed the newssheet to Dekkard, who immediately began to read.
Last week, the Ministry of Security put out a bulletin listing Eduard Graffyn as a missing person of interest. Graffyn is the Director of Logistics for Eastern Ironway, and possibly the man who knows the most about the details of the illegal leasing of the Eshbruk Coal Reserve by the Ministry of Public Resources. That bulletin went only to patrol stations and Security Ministry offices. Minister of Security Lukkyn Wyath has declined to comment on reasons behind that decision.
Premier Oskaar Ulrich, who just relieved Minister Jhared Kraffeist from his position as head of Public Resources, has indicated that the Council of Sixty-Six would be more than pleased to hear what Sr. Graffyn might be able to add to the pending investigation of the Eshbruk Coal Reserve lease to Eastern Ironway …
Dekkard finished the article and handed the newssheet to Ysella, then said, “Ulrich removed Minister Kraffeist? I never saw anything about that.”
“Neither did anyone else,” replied Roostof.
“Was there a story about his removal in any of the newssheets?”
“Not a one. But do you think the Tribune would print anything like that first?”
Ysella nodded, then finished reading before returning the newssheet.
“When Premier Grieg removed Schlossan as Minister of Waterways,” Dekkard pointed out, “that was on the front page, and Schlossan had only disagreed with the Council over the rates charged for barge tolls.”
“Barge tolls are more important than inside coal deals,” said Roostof sardonically. “Every Landor and every smallholder worries about tolls. Only three ironways and every steamship in the Navy or the merchant shippers worry about coal prices.”
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