At those words, Dekkard could see a tightening of Ysella’s face, and he recalled that the empie who had attacked the councilor had quickly died under interrogation, as well as Ysella’s earlier observation that interrogations by Security empaths were often brutal.
“… and early indications suggest that finding those behind the disruptions may be difficult.”
Dekkard could see that, especially since the majority of Security’s records, with names and details, had gone up in flames. Even if most of the agents working on the New Meritorists were still alive, gathering them together and trying to re-create the information into usable form would take time … and by that time, many of the New Meritorists would have moved elsewhere or disappeared in some fashion.
“What do you think they’ll do next, Steffan?”
“Something to prove they can disrupt some other necessity for governing or doing business.”
“Something that will affect people?” asked Ysella.
“Anything will affect people,” replied Dekkard, “but they’ve largely avoided killing anyone—except for Council Guards, and Security patrollers and personnel … and Security isn’t exactly the most beloved of the Imperador’s ministries.” Another thought crossed his mind as well. “Also, since the newssheets can seldom mention the names of councilors, there won’t be that much of an outcry over Councilor Aashtaan’s assassination. I almost missed the announcement of Yordan Farris as his replacement.”
“No loss,” murmured Ysella.
Obreduur glanced at her for a moment.
“Sorry, sir.” She didn’t sound sorry.
Obreduur turned back to Dekkard as if nothing had happened and said dryly, “Security should have recruited you for a position.”
“They interviewed me my last year at the Institute. I didn’t pursue it, and neither did they. I think they were put off by my parents being artisans from Argental.” But then, Dekkard had been put off by the arrogance of the Security official who’d interviewed him.
“That means any record they have of you was likely destroyed,” said Ysella.
“That won’t make any difference,” Obreduur pointed out. “Too many people in Security know about you two because of the Aashtaan assassination. So is the fact that you captured the assassin without hesitation. Assistant Security Minister Johan Lorenz and an aide will be here tomorrow at the fourth bell of morning to talk to the three of us. I imagine they’ll want to ask about any details you noticed about the assassin.” His eyes went to Dekkard. “And why you were so accurate about the sewers.”
“It just seemed to fit a pattern,” Dekkard demurred.
“What do you see as the next part of this pattern?”
“Either a disruption of government or business or something that will force Security to act harshly against innocents … or those that most people would see as innocents. Provoking Security to act against others has been consistent from the first demonstrations, at least, those that I know about.”
“You might give that some thought before we talk with the assistant minister.”
Dekkard nodded. He wasn’t as worried about the assistant minister as he was about whoever accompanied him. “Is there anything else we should know, sir?”
“Probably,” replied Obreduur with a soft laugh. “But I don’t know what it might be.” He paused. “I do want all the petitions and letters answered before we leave on the trip to Gaarlak and Malek. That may be three weeks away, but you don’t want to work late that last week. That’s all I have.” With that, Obreduur stood.
Dekkard stood and motioned for Ysella to lead the way out, then followed and closed the door. He stopped beside her table desk and murmured, “He’s more worried than he’s saying, isn’t he?”
She smiled sardonically, answering in a low voice, “All councilors worry. And it’s usually not a good idea to show it. You’re mostly good about not showing it, but you need to get better.”
“On the one hand, people think isolates don’t feel…” Dekkard shook his head.
“I know that’s not true, especially with you,” she replied, “and because you do feel strongly, you need to be careful as you do more speaking for him … or for the Craft Party.”
“For the party?”
“In Gaarlak, since it’s not his district, anything we say will be on behalf of the party.”
“So he won’t just be evaluating how a future election might go … that’s cover for getting more supporters?”
“He hasn’t said … but why else would he be asked to spend time there? Now … I need to prepare for another talk for him.”
“The Seamstresses Guild or…?”
“The Women’s Clerical Guild. And it won’t be long before you get to stand in for him again.” Ysella seated herself.
Dekkard got the message and returned to his desk, wondering what group he might have to address. The Plasterers and Finish Carpenters Guild? The Commercial Security Guild?
He shook his head and picked up his pen.
39
DEKKARD didn’t sleep all that well and woke up worrying on Tridi. While he certainly hadn’t done anything illegal, he still worried about meeting with anyone from Security. Could you be getting paranoid? Except he knew that a touch of paranoia made one a better security aide. The question was how much of a touch was too much. But then, there was so much he hadn’t known—or even suspected—about government and politics.
After taking a deep breath, he sat up on the side of the bed, then stood.
When he entered the staff room, he was surprised to see Ysella already there, but he took a quick glance at the newssheet, noting only a small story on a sewer malfunction closing a four-block area of Machtarn. He then looked at Ysella. “You didn’t sleep all that well either?”
“The last thing anyone with any intelligence wants to do is to come to the attention of Security, no matter what the reason or how innocent you are.”
“I had that feeling.” Dekkard poured his café, and sat down across the table from her.
“That’s one you can definitely trust. At least Security can’t fault us for capturing and restraining that poor misguided empath. If you can avoid it without lying, don’t mention anything about being an assistant economic specialist.”
Dekkard could definitely understand that, but there was one problem. “The Security Committee staffers know that we do more.”
“That’s not likely to come up. If it does, look like you don’t understand why they’re asking the question. Then, if Obreduur doesn’t explain, just tell them there’s more work than the professional staff can do, and you help where you can when you’re not escorting the councilor.”
“That’s certainly true.” As far as it goes.
“What’s true?” asked Rhosali as she entered the staff room.
“That the councilor’s staff often has more work than they can handle,” replied Ysella.
“I can believe that.” Rhosali paused. “Thank you for speaking to the councilor.”
“We hope it will work out,” said Ysella. “Sr. Baartol knows a great many people. It might take a while.”
“Good seldom happens overnight,” replied Rhosali. “Only darkness.”
Dekkard smiled faintly at the old folk saying, then reached for the croissants, after which he added a chunk of quince paste to his plate. Both Ysella and Dekkard ate quickly, then left the staff room.
The drive to the Council Office Building was uneventful and quiet, with Obreduur writing something in the rear seat and Ysella sensing if anyone might be following, although Dekkard certainly didn’t see any steamers trailing the Gresynt. The increased number of Council Guards remained outside the building and in the covered parking area, and one even asked Dekkard for his passcard when he neared the main entrance. When Dekkard thanked him, the guard looked surprised, but didn’t say anything.
Karola had an even smaller stack of letters waiting on Dekkard’s desk, which was fine with him, given that the “interview”
with Security would certainly take some time.
Several minutes past fourth bell, three men entered the office, all wearing jackets and trousers of a blue so dark it was almost black, the shade often called security blue, as well as white shirts and security blue ties. Dekkard assumed that the older man with blond hair streaked with white was Assistant Security Minister Johan Lorenz, and that his aide was the sharp-faced younger man, since the third man wore the security blue uniform of an agent.
“Assistant Security Minister Lorenz and Security Special Assistant Gudwaard for a meeting with the councilor and his security aides,” declared the younger man almost before the security agent had closed the door.
“The councilor is expecting you,” replied Karola, rising and knocking on the inner office door. “Assistant Security Minister Lorenz, sir.”
Dekkard didn’t hear the response, but Karola immediately opened the door and gestured to Ysella and Dekkard, who followed Lorenz and Gudwaard into the inner office. The agent did not follow. As Dekkard closed the door he noticed that another chair had been added and that the four chairs in front of Obreduur’s desk had been arranged in a deeper arc than usual.
Obreduur stood and inclined his head to Lorenz. “Good morning, Minister Lorenz. Please have a seat.”
“Thank you, Councilor. This is my special assistant Hans Gudwaard.”
“And these are my security aides, Avraal Ysella and Steffan Dekkard.” Obreduur seated himself.
Lorenz took the end chair farthest from the window, with Gudwaard next to him, while Ysella sat beside Gudwaard, leaving the chair closest to the window for Dekkard.
Once everyone was seated, Obreduur said pleasantly, “The Security Ministry requested this meeting. What would you like to know?”
“As you must know, Councilor,” began Lorenz, “demonstrators have made a number of attacks … on the Security Ministry, in various locales across Guldor, at the Imperial University, and even upon the Council…”
“By demonstrators,” interjected Obreduur smoothly, “I assume you’re referring to the New Meritorists.”
“Security would prefer not to get into names, Councilor.”
“I understand that, but please don’t condescend to me. When demonstrators wave signs and placards with slogans used previously by the Meritorists, is there any doubt that these idiots are New Meritorists?”
“Those idiots, as you call them, have created a great deal of damage in some well-thought-out plans, not to mention the death of a councilor.”
“They’re unlikely to win, and if they did win, they’d destroy Guldor and themselves in a few years. To me, that’s a form of idiocy. But that’s just my view. How can we help you?”
“Sr. Gudwaard has been working on this, and Minister Wyath had thought that your security aides might be able to reveal more about the assassination of Councilor Aashtaan, since apparently no one ever interviewed them.”
“That’s very true,” said Obreduur pleasantly. He looked to Ysella and then to Dekkard. “Is that agreeable to you?”
“It is.” Dekkard nodded, knowing that was the only response.
Ysella merely nodded.
Gudwaard smiled, in a way that reminded Dekkard of a stoat, although, except for his sharp nose, the round-faced special assistant bore no particular resemblance, then focused on Ysella. “I understand that you’re a talented empath. Council Guard reports suggest that you immediately pointed out the empath who attacked the councilor. Was there anything in particular that called your attention to her?”
“Yes. She fired a strong and narrow empblast, pure focused hatred. A trace of that hatred remained around her. There was also a momentary sense of triumph.”
“I see. Did you notice anything physical that stood out?”
“No. She just looked like another Council messenger. She looked more boyish than most of them.”
Gudwaard turned to Dekkard. “Did you see anything out of the ordinary?”
“Only that she had that focused expression that empaths have.”
“I thought that she’d already killed the councilor.”
“She had, but Security Aide Ysella had already pointed her out to me, and I started toward her. That was when she looked at me, as though she was trying to emp me. When she realized I was an isolate, she tried to turn and run.”
“Shouldn’t she have recognized your grays? You were in grays, were you not?”
“I was, but she must not have recognized them, because that’s what happened.” Dekkard wasn’t about to suggest that Ysella had been confusing the attacker.
“What did you do then?”
Dekkard gave a complete description of his physical acts, ending with, “… and then two Council Guard isolates showed up and took her away.”
“Did anyone question you?”
“Except for Councilor Obreduur, not until now.”
“Not until now?” asked Lorenz.
“That’s correct, sir.”
Lorenz frowned, but nodded to Gudwaard.
“Security Aide Ysella, what exactly did you do once you sensed the empblast?”
“I did my duty. I was already shielding Councilor Obreduur and as much around him as I could. Councilor Aashtaan had already been struck, and was too far from me to do anything.”
“You were already shielding the councilor? Did you have some reason for that?”
Ysella looked at Gudwaard openly. “When we’re on duty, he’s always shielded. No one can react fast enough to create a shield against an empblast at close range.”
“You don’t shield anyone else?”
“No … except that anyone close to the councilor might be partly shielded, depending on where an empblast comes from.”
For the next third of a bell, Gudwaard kept asking variations on his previous questions, until Lorenz said quietly, “I think that’s more than sufficient.” He turned to Dekkard. “Steffan, you were the one who suggested that the demons … the New Meritorists, that is, would strike the sewer system next. What gave you that idea?”
“It was just a thought, sir. They’d sabotaged the gas system, and then the water system … it just struck me that the next major system would be the sewers … all of them are systems that could be sabotaged without calling public attention to them. I really wasn’t certain. After I said it to the councilor … I told him it was a wild idea … that it just came to me…”
“Have you ever talked to anyone about the gas lighting systems, or water, or sewers?”
“Not until after all these things happened … well, except the sewers, and I only told the councilor and Security Aide Ysella right after the councilor told us about the water sabotage.”
Lorenz turned to Ysella. “Did he ever mention any of that to you previously?”
“We did talk about the gas explosion and fire after it happened, but we didn’t even know about it until Steffan was driving us to the Council grounds and we saw the flames…”
Lorenz continued those questions for another few minutes, then abruptly turned to Dekkard. “Steffan … do you have any idea what these people will do next?”
“No, sir.”
“None at all?”
“Only that they’ll do things that make the government and Council look bad, and those things will be done by only a few people in places where no one would suspect.”
Lorenz nodded, then smiled warmly, an expression that Dekkard instantly distrusted, before the assistant minister said to Obreduur, “Thank you very much for your time and cooperation, Councilor.” Then he turned toward Dekkard and Ysella. “And for yours as well.”
Obreduur stood. “We wish you success in your investigation and hope you’re able to put a stop to such disruptions quickly.”
Lorenz stood. “We will, and thank you again.”
Dekkard, Ysella, and Gudwaard stood as well, and Dekkard moved to the door, which he opened, then stepped back, saying nothing as Lorenz and his assistant departed.
Once the three Security
men had left the outer office, Obreduur motioned for Dekkard to shut the door, and then for Ysella and Dekkard to take their seats. After a long moment of silence, Obreduur looked to Ysella. “What did you get from them?”
“They don’t like you, and there was wariness from Lorenz every time you spoke. Gudwaard worries about me. He’s not quite dismissive of Steffan…”
“Excellent.” A brief smile crossed the councilor’s face. “What else?”
“They really were hoping for some insight into the New Meritorists, and Lorenz definitely understood and was concerned about Steffan’s idea that the New Meritorists would continue to use comparatively few people to create disruptions. Lorenz was more focused on you, and Gudwaard on me and Steffan.”
“That’s not surprising.” Obreduur turned to Dekkard. “You handled that very well, Steffan. Everything you said was true, and you managed not even to hint about other matters.” He smiled again. “It was a performance than only Avraal and I could appreciate.”
In a way that saddened Dekkard, even as he knew that Security was clearly overreaching what the framers of the Great Charter had intended.
“You’re not totally pleased with that, are you?” asked Ysella.
“Am I losing my chill?” asked Dekkard.
“No. That just came from your body position and eyes,” she replied.
“I’m not totally pleased,” Dekkard admitted. “The Commercers are more interested in catching and killing people than in asking why the unrest is growing and what they should be doing. Unless someone…” He shrugged.
Obreduur and Ysella exchanged glances.
“What?” asked Dekkard.
“What do you think we’re trying to do?” Obreduur’s voice carried an amused tone.
Dekkard offered an embarrassed smile. “Just about what I was suggesting. It’s just that the Commercers don’t seem to see the need.”
“They don’t want to change, even as the world is.” Abruptly, Obreduur picked up a sheet of paper from one of the stacks on his desk. “This is the response that came in this morning from Konrad Hadenaur. He wrote that the Sanitation bureaucrats grumbled, but accepted the new job descriptions, not that they had much choice after getting the approval from the Health and Education Ministry. Now this may not sound like much, but the result is that everyone benefits. Less talented beetles get jobs. More talented ones who can learn on the job get promoted, and the most talented ones get promoted a little faster. And now that it’s been approved, sanitation guilds in other cities can benefit as well.” Obreduur smiled sadly. “It’s not enough. But if all councilors looked at matters that way, it could be. Instead of making things better here, the Commercers are trying to produce goods more cheaply in Noldar. What good is that if you destroy jobs here? The workers you put out of work can’t buy any goods, cheaper or not. That means tax revenues go down. It also means people get angry.”
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