Isolate

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “So why do they do it?” Dekkard suspected he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear what Obreduur had to say.

  “Because they’ll make more marks in the next few years. It’s the same kind of thinking that the New Meritorists have. They both want things better immediately, and what they’re doing will make everything worse in the long run.”

  “Can you build the Craft Party and its supporters enough to take control of the government before all that happens?”

  Obreduur didn’t speak for a moment, then said, “We’ll likely win more seats in the next election. I don’t know whether that will be enough to take the Council. Even if we do, we’ll have to accomplish reform under the terms of the Great Charter. Otherwise, we’d just be doing what you feared—destroying Guldor under the guise of saving it.”

  “And that makes it hard,” added Ysella, “because the Commercers have already corrupted the system.”

  Hard? How about nearly impossible? Dekkard couldn’t argue with either, not when he’d already made the same point. “So what should we do now?”

  “Keep doing your job. You’re already making a difference.”

  Dekkard didn’t bother to hide his puzzlement.

  Obreduur laughed. “You’ll see. And if you don’t by the time the Council reconvenes after recess, I’ll explain. I doubt I’ll have to, though. But it would be better if you see for yourself. That way, you won’t wonder whether you’re seeing what you’re seeing or what I want you to see.”

  Dekkard turned to Ysella. “Did he tell you the same thing?”

  “Not quite the same way, but … yes.”

  Dekkard smiled wryly. “Then I’d better get back to work.”

  “We all need to,” replied Obreduur as he gestured toward the door.

  Once Dekkard and Ysella were in the outer office, with Obreduur’s door closed, Karola asked, in a low voice, “What happened in there? The assistant didn’t look all that happy.”

  “He wasn’t able to intimidate anyone,” replied Ysella sardonically. “That always makes them unhappy.”

  Dekkard was afraid that was all too true.

  40

  THE rest of the day at the Council Office Building was without any other singular events, for which Dekkard was thankful. He even managed to catch up on his responses.

  After driving Obreduur and Ysella back to the house, Dekkard spent time going over the two steamers before wiping them down. He did notice that Emrelda’s teal Gresynt was gone, and that suggested that she had returned to Machtarn without event. He stepped into the back hall from the garage to find Ysella waiting for him.

  “You certainly took your time tonight.”

  “I hadn’t really gone over the steamers in several days. So I did it now. Was there something I was supposed to do?”

  “No, but I thought you might like to know that Emrelda returned safely. She left a note for both of us.” Ysella handed Dekkard an envelope that she had apparently opened, although there was a sheet of folded notepaper inside. He glanced at the outside, which simply read “Avraal and Steffan,” then extracted the single sheet and began to read.

  Avraal and Steffan,

  I returned this afternoon by train and was fortunate enough to obtain a steamhack quickly. The Gresynt was in perfect condition, and someone had topped off the tanks, for which I am most grateful. That will allow me more time to deal with other chores before I return to duty tomorrow. So thank you both for your assistance and support.

  Markell hasn’t finished his measurements and calculations, but I have the feeling that the additional instruments will turn out to have been necessary, although he insists that thoroughness is required in all engineering and design to assure that all standards are met.

  Thank you both … again.

  The signature was simply “Emrelda.”

  Dekkard refolded the single sheet and replaced it in the envelope, then handed the envelope back to Ysella. “She’s worried.”

  Ysella nodded. “But it’s her handwriting, and Rhosali said it was her.”

  “Rhosali’s met her, then?”

  “Only a few times. She doesn’t forget. That’s why she’s the one to answer the door.”

  Dekkard smiled briefly. Everyone the Obreduurs hired seemed to be more than qualified for what they did. “The note’s a little formal.”

  “That’s partly her and partly because it was addressed to both of us. She wanted you to see it.”

  “She thinks you don’t take things as seriously as she thinks you should? Or that what Markell’s looking into is more serious than it seems?”

  “Some of each.” Ysella offered a wry smile. “She also thinks you’ll take her worries seriously.”

  “She scarcely knows me.”

  “Over three enddays, she’s seen more of you than most people see of acquaintances they call friends in months.”

  “It’s more that she trusts your judgment,” replied Dekkard.

  “That might be part of it, but certainly not all. She thinks you’re more cautious.”

  Dekkard choked back a laugh. Finally, he said, “I wouldn’t call a man who gave up a secure position in the family plastering concern to become an armed political security aide cautious.”

  “You said you’d have been a fifth-rate artisan.”

  “I would have been, but I was good at cleaning up and routine work, and that’s always necessary. And it’s much safer than what we’re doing now.”

  “Isn’t that what Obreduur wants—to clean up and repair politics?”

  “So you’re saying that I’ve traded a safe job of one kind of cleanup for another that involves a more dangerous type of cleanup?”

  “Haven’t you? Haven’t we?” Ysella was smiling sardonically as she finished.

  “When you put it that way … yes. But I’d still rather do it than clean up plasterwork. What about you?”

  “You don’t even need to ask, Steffan.”

  “What do we do about Emrelda and Markell?”

  “Not much. Not at the moment. Markell’s in Siincleer, and Emrelda’s in Machtarn, and they’re both doing their jobs. We can worry, but nothing’s happened, and it may not.”

  “You’re not as sure about that as you sound,” suggested Dekkard.

  “I worry … but we don’t know enough to know what to worry about.”

  Dekkard had to agree. “So … we might as well get on with things and hope dinner isn’t spinach milanesia.”

  Ysella winced, then smiled. “Have you ever had it?”

  “Twice. I’d prefer not to try it a third time.”

  Ysella shook her head. “I’ll see you at dinner.” She turned and headed for the stairs.

  After several moments, Dekkard took the stairs as well, still wondering what Markell was discovering.

  41

  ON Furdi, Obreduur directed Dekkard to help Raynaad with some correspondence because Dekkard had actually caught up on his work while the economic assistant had fallen behind as a result of his duties in recording committee discussions where Obreduur had wanted a verbatim transcript.

  For all of Dekkard and Ysella’s worries, when Dekkard asked her if she’d heard anything from Emrelda after they got back to the house on Furdi night, Ysella’s answer was simple.

  “She hasn’t sent a message, and she would have if there was trouble.”

  Quindi turned out like Furdi in terms of work, with Dekkard splitting his time between his own letters and the simpler ones that Raynaad had given him. But by the end of the workday, he finished both sets of responses. Even after he got the Gresynt and picked up Obreduur and Ysella, the councilor didn’t say anything until Dekkard had been driving south on Imperial Boulevard for several minutes.

  “There’s been no word either from the Premier or from Security. Hasheem hasn’t heard anything, either, and there aren’t any meetings by the Commercers on the Security Committee.” After a moment, Obreduur asked, “What do you make of that, Steffan?”

  “The N
ew Meritorists are working out another way to show the government’s lack of control or incompetence. I have no idea what that might be, but it will be obvious in hindsight.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “That way, they can get people to say that it was obvious … and ask themselves why the government didn’t do something to stop it.”

  “Do you really think they’re thinking that far ahead?” asked Ysella.

  “So far, only a handful of them have been caught, and none of those detained knew anything beyond what they did,” replied Obreduur. “If they had known, Wyath wouldn’t have sent Lorenz. I admit that’s more based on feel than knowledge.”

  “Would Minister Wyath tell anyone? Would Premier Ulrich or Chairman Maendaan even know?” asked Ysella.

  “Minister Wyath would be a fool to hide anything like that from Ulrich, but it’s possible Ulrich could be keeping it to himself. If he keeps it to himself for long, that will erode confidence in him, and they don’t have that many Landor votes to spare at the moment.”

  “I have another question, sir,” said Dekkard. “It’s been almost a month since Kraffeist’s resignation, but there’s been nothing said about appointing a new Minister of Public Resources.”

  “Steffan … would you want to be minister there right now? Until it’s clearer who did what or that the matter is settled, I doubt anyone truly qualified would be interested. Ulrich is acting as he thinks prudent—not to move quickly and let the bureaucrats quietly run matters.”

  “As he thinks is prudent?” asked Ysella.

  “He thinks the matter will go away. He’s certainly done his best to set it up that way.”

  “You have some doubts?” asked Dekkard.

  “Until matters are resolved, nothing is settled. Sometimes, not even then. In politics, apparent settlements can sometimes be illusions. As can quarrels.”

  “Thank you,” replied Dekkard, checking the mirrors, and then concentrating on the late-afternoon traffic on Imperial Boulevard.

  Neither Ysella nor Obreduur said anything more, and after dropping them off under the shade of the portico, he drove the Gresynt into the garage. He was still wiping down the Gresynt when Ysella joined him.

  “What happened? A message from your sister?”

  “What else?” She offered a smile that conveyed bitter amusement. “For someone who conveys the outward impression of an impervious isolate, you see more than some empaths. Her note basically says she needs to see us both and that she’ll pick us up at third bell tomorrow morning.” She extended a single sheet of notepaper. “You should read it yourself.”

  Dekkard took the note and began to read.

  I just wanted to thank you and Steffan again for helping us out last endday, and for taking care of the Gresynt. Since we had such a wonderful time together in Point Larmat, I thought I could pick you both up tomorrow morning at third bell and bring you here for the day, since I’ll be alone, and I do so enjoy your company and thoughtful insight.

  Until tomorrow.

  The signature was simply “Emrelda.”

  Dekkard looked to Ysella as he returned the note. “The way it’s written, she’s worried about someone else reading it. It’s about Markell, and whatever it is, it’s not good.”

  “No, it’s not,” replied Ysella.

  “I worry. She’s really not offering a choice and insisting on picking us both up.”

  “So do I. She wants your judgment as well as mine.”

  “She doesn’t need mine. You’ve got more experience in political matters than I do.”

  “What about your judgment on the use of weapons? Or Navy matters. You know more about than that I do.”

  “Only from the Institute.”

  “That’s four years more training in that than I have,” Ysella pointed out. “It is a Navy facility that he’s working on.”

  “And something that I know nothing about.”

  The two just looked at each other. Then Ysella smiled wryly. “What if she’s just lonely, and we’re making something out of nothing?”

  “Then we’ll look very foolish … if only to ourselves,” replied Dekkard. But he hoped Ysella was right.

  “We might as well go to the staff room and wait until it’s time to go to services,” Ysella said. “I just hope Presider Eschbach doesn’t give another homily on yet another facet of trust.”

  After two years of listening to the august presider, so did Dekkard.

  42

  BOTH Ysella and Dekkard were waiting in the shade of the portico well before third bell on Findi morning, one of the warmest of summer so far, and one that promised to get even warmer, if the thick green high haze was any indication.

  “I still hope we misread her note.” Ysella glanced from the empty street to Dekkard.

  “So do I,” replied Dekkard. “Do you think we’re reading too much into what she wrote?”

  “I hope so, but the note’s not like her. She’s not … It just feels wrong.”

  Dekkard didn’t know Emrelda well enough to comment, but Ysella usually had a solid feel for matters. But then, he’d thought he’d known his own sister and been surprised at times.

  “There’s her Gresynt,” declared Ysella, immediately starting down the drive.

  Dekkard followed. They reached the curb just as the steamer glided to a stop.

  Emrelda immediately opened the door and got out. “I’m so glad to see the two of you.” She was pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

  “What happened?” asked Ysella gently.

  Emrelda handed the keys to Dekkard. “You drive. We need to get back to the house, just in case. I’ll tell you both on the way.”

  “In case of what?” asked Ysella. “Something with Markell?”

  “He’s missing. I’ll tell you on the way. I’ll sit in back with you.”

  Dekkard looked to Ysella, who nodded. “Then we’d better get moving.”

  He opened the driver’s door and slid into the seat, then closed the door. In a few moments the sisters were seated. “Is there anyone looking for us?” he asked Ysella.

  “Not that I can sense.”

  Dekkard immediately made a U-turn and headed toward Imperial Boulevard.

  “Now … what happened?” asked Ysella, gently but firmly.

  “Markell sent me a message yesterday, to the patrol station. What he wrote was stated cautiously, in generalities, about his measurements being a significant variance from the anticipated. He also wrote that the specifications being used by his construction manager were unfamiliar, and that the optimal possibilities had been foreclosed … and he would let me know as soon as he could.”

  Dekkard swallowed. He almost couldn’t imagine such a blatant effort to cut costs by reducing safety margins, but after all he’d seen recently … that was all too possible. Except that the construction manager was employed by Engaard Engineering … and if the manager was using different specifications, either he’d been bribed or Markell had been bypassed in some fashion.

  Except that Markell had said that he reported directly to Halaard Engaard.

  Emrelda paused, as if she had had to catch her breath … or regain her composure.

  “Had you two talked about this before you left Siincleer?” asked Ysella.

  “We did. He was worried, if something went wrong, he’d be the one blamed. That’s not the worst of it. Just before I left to pick you up, I got a heliogram saying that Markell had disappeared, and that Security patrollers in Siincleer were looking for him.”

  “Who sent the message?” asked Dekkard.

  “It was signed by Halaard Engaard himself. He said he was on his way to Siincleer and would be in touch when he knew more.”

  “If the head of the corporacion is going there to investigate…” Dekkard began, then broke off as he braked to avoid hitting a gray Ferrum that darted out of a side street, then slowed down as it came to Imperial Boulevard. Fortunately, the Ferrum crossed the boulevard and turned south aroun
d the garden median, while Dekkard turned north.

  “You were saying?” prompted Ysella.

  “It’s good that Engaard is investigating personally.” That wasn’t exactly what Dekkard had been about say before being interrupted.

  “Markell said that Halaard always backed his people.”

  “Then he may be able to discover what Markell found out,” said Ysella. “You said he was an excellent engineer.”

  “Wouldn’t most people familiar with Engaard know that?” asked Dekkard.

  “Only people within Engaard Engineering, or a few competitors. Halaard started with Haasan years ago before going out on this own,” replied Emrelda. “Markell went with him because he’d never get far at Haasan Design or Siincleer Engineering, if they’d even considered him. Siincleer wouldn’t even consider Halaard when he started.”

  “I just hope Halaard Engaard is very careful,” said Dekkard. “Very careful.”

  “You think he’s walking into a trap, don’t you?” said Ysella.

  “I don’t see that it could be anything else.”

  “Can’t you warn him?” asked Emrelda.

  “How?” asked Ysella. “If he’s driving, there’s no way to reach him, and we don’t even know where to send a message to Siincleer. The same’s true if he took the ironway. There won’t be anyone at Engaard headquarters on endday.”