Isolate

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “The regional Security headquarters in Siincleer was one of those damaged,” said Dekkard. “According to Markell and Emrelda, the Security agents there were pressuring the patrollers. Is there any way we can tie Markell’s disappearance and Engaard’s death to that … possibly pointing out that matters there were more than a little strange?”

  “I’ve already asked Carlos if he can add more. He was working on a report that a Commercer public prosecutor there was closing cases for lack of evidence when he was the one who’d ordered the evidence moved to filing rooms where it was inadvertently discarded.”

  “Emrelda might be able to provide the name of that patroller area chief who hinted about that,” said Ysella.

  “If she could, that would be helpful,” replied Obreduur.

  “I’ll send her a message,” Ysella promised.

  Obreduur returned to writing.

  After several minutes, Dekkard quietly asked Ysella, “Did you ever get any letters back from Emrelda?”

  “Just the one a week ago. I send her a message yesterday, but I haven’t heard back.”

  “I’ll wager there’s a message waiting for you at the house.”

  “I hope so. I worry about her.”

  As Dekkard left the garage after tending to the steamers—and noting that Ingrella’s was still warm—Ysella was waiting for him in the hall, message in hand.

  “She had to work the evening shift yesterday. So she didn’t get my message until this morning. She was worried about me … you, too … because the newssheets often don’t mention what happens to aides.”

  “Only in Gaarlak … and well after the fact,” said Dekkard wryly.

  “She wants us to come over on Findi.”

  “I’d like that … if you would. I mean … you haven’t really seen her in a month. I wouldn’t…”

  “Steffan … that’s sweet of you, but I’d really like you to come.”

  Dekkard couldn’t help but smile broadly. “Then I will. I just never would want to come between you two.”

  “You won’t … and you had me with the smile.”

  “But … you’d better tell her … that unsettled as things are … Obreduur might need us.”

  “I’d already thought of that, but I’d be very surprised if he’d need us this Findi. Next Findi might be different.”

  “You think things are going to get worse?

  “Don’t you?”

  He nodded, then said, “One way or another.”

  Because the three arrived home later, Dekkard postponed knife-throwing practice until after the evening meal. After two throws, Nellara complained that the dimmer light in the garage in Machtarn made it hard to judge distance.

  Dekkard just said, “There won’t be very good light when you’ll need to use a knife.”

  “Like at the Ritter’s Inn,” said Ysella.

  “Sir … ah…” began Gustoff, “how many men have you killed?”

  “More than one,” replied Dekkard, after a long pause. “And that’s one too many. Some security aides never kill anyone in years.”

  “But … why … you, I mean, sir.”

  “I can’t give you a good answer. Partly because we guard your father, and he may be the most important councilor in Guldor in the weeks ahead. He’s working to return the Empire to what the Great Charter meant it to be. The Commercers and some Landors don’t want that.”

  “Could he be premier?” asked Nellara.

  “The next elections could still be two years away,” said Ysella. “The Imperador hasn’t shown any sign of asking Premier Ulrich to step down or of calling for elections. Even if the Craft Party wins thirty seats, that may not be enough for the party to name the next premier.”

  “We think he would make a good premier,” added Dekkard, “but the best-qualified councilors don’t always become premier.”

  “Some who get elected to the Council aren’t that good, either,” said Gustoff.

  “That’s also true,” said Ysella.

  “And it’s time to get back to practicing before it gets too late,” declared Dekkard.

  For the next two-thirds of a bell, Dekkard’s attention was on knife technique. Then he called an end to practice.

  “Do you have another waist sheath?” asked Ysella. “One that I could borrow?”

  Dekkard couldn’t help frowning. Nothing forbade an empath security aide from carrying weapons. Some did, but he’d never thought of Ysella that way. Then he smiled. You should have. “I only have a spare single knife sheath, but you’re welcome to it.”

  “Could I get one?” asked Nellara.

  “If your mother agrees, then I’ll get you one, but once I do, you can only use it for practice until you’re much better and until your parents agree you can carry a knife.” Dekkard turned to Ysella. “I’ll see about a pair of matched knives and sheath for you as well. Better yet, we should see about them together.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  “Now … we need to put away the target and clean and sharpen the knives.” Dekkard looked to Gustoff and Nellara.

  “Yes, sir.”

  As soon as the chores were done, the two young people hurried off.

  “They’re good children,” said Dekkard. “Much better than I was at their ages.”

  “I doubt that. Especially since I’ve met your parents and sister.”

  “Will I ever meet your parents?”

  “At some point, I imagine, but it’s not going to be soon. Remember, I’m not welcome there, and they’ve shown no sign of wanting to come here.”

  “That’s sad … unfortunate.”

  Ysella nodded, then said, “You finished your statement for Obreduur this afternoon, didn’t you?”

  “I did.”

  She smiled wryly. “I didn’t. I was worried about Emrelda. Now I need to do it.”

  “Then I’d better let you get to it.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning, Steffan.” She took his right hand with her free left hand and squeezed it gently. “Thank you.” Then she turned and headed for the staircase.

  Dekkard just stood there for a moment. He’d wanted to put his arms around her, but that would have been an imposition. And an incredible complication.

  He swallowed and walked toward the staff room.

  76

  DEKKARD woke up on Tridi morning, knowing that he’d dreamt about Ysella, but found himself unable to remember any of the details, except a feeling of urgency. He couldn’t even remember the reason for urgency. He was still pondering that when he stepped into the staff room and saw that she was already there.

  “You’re early this morning,” Dekkard said cheerfully.

  “I’ve been up for a while. I was too tired to finish my recommendations last night. So I got up early.”

  “Are you satisfied with them? I’m not asking details,” he added quickly as he poured his café, then added two croissants and two slices of quince paste to his plate before sitting down.

  “Not really. I have the feeling I’ve missed something.”

  “I can see that. I felt the same way.”

  “But you still handed yours in.”

  “I also had the feeling that I wasn’t going to think of anything more or better. And if I did, I could write up another page this morning.” He offered a pseudo-mournful smile. “I didn’t.” He took a sip of café. “With all five of us coming up with our own ideas, maybe that will be enough. Did you read Gestirn?”

  “I did. There’s nothing much except what Obreduur said would be … but he was right. They printed Councilor Bassaana’s questions and the fact that Ulrich didn’t answer them.”

  “I imagine the New Meritorists will spread that … if the newssheets elsewhere in Guldor don’t. Shooting unarmed women in the back … that plays right into the New Meritorists’ strategy … and the dunnite also weakens Security.”

  Ysella shook her head. “That’s will make some of the Security agents angry.”

  “If they show i
t, it will make matters worse.”

  “Not if they crack down hard enough to stop any more demonstrations. That’s what most Landors and Commercers want.”

  “Sometimes getting what you want is the worst thing possible, especially if people get hurt.” Dekkard finished off the first quince-filled croissant.

  Ysella took a sip of café. “Do you think anything will happen today?”

  “I’d be surprised. Everyone’s preparing for Findi. If not this Findi, then next Findi.”

  She nodded. “More like next Findi … but things are more unsettled than I expected. You were closer to seeing what happened.”

  “Closer, but I underestimated how many followers the New Meritorists have. Then … maybe they don’t have that many, but there are a lot of dissatisfied people, and the Meritorists are the only group able and willing to act.”

  “That could be.”

  Dekkard agreed, but concentrated on finishing breakfast, although he did look at Ysella more than a few times, thinking, as he often did, how she made anything she wore look stylish.

  After breakfast, he finished preparing for the day and had the Gresynt ready a few minutes early and watched as Obreduur and Ysella entered the steamer. Obreduur carried his case and several sheets of paper, most likely Ysella’s recommendations, Dekkard suspected.

  The drive to the Council Office Building was quiet. The increased number of Council Guards on duty appeared to be the same as on Duadi, and they continued to check passcards.

  When Dekkard reached the office, he found a somewhat larger pile of letters and petitions on his desk. He looked to Karola.

  She smiled. “The councilor said to give you all the ones about what he was doing over Summerend. Avraal got all the ones about Ritten Obreduur.”

  “People are complaining about her?”

  “Some are; some want to know why she hasn’t been allowed to do more,” replied Ysella.

  “More of the first than the second, I’d wager.”

  “Not as many more as I thought,” replied Ysella.

  Does that reflect how people think … or that those who want a stronger role for women are more likely to write? Dekkard hoped it was the former, but feared it was the latter.

  The remainder of the day was long and quiet, except for the constant flow of messages in and out of the office, but Dekkard did manage to get through all the petitions and letters before he left to get the Gresynt. When he entered the parking area, he did notice that the Council Guards were actively patrolling the parked steamers.

  Because of the earlier incident you had? Or because now they think it might happen to Commercer aides or something might involve Commercer steamers? Dekkard snorted to himself as he unlocked the Gresynt and got in.

  Obreduur and Ysella arrived outside the Council Office Building moments after Dekkard pulled up. The councilor said nothing until Dekkard had turned the steamer south on Imperial Boulevard.

  “Premier Ulrich announced that the remainder of the week will be devoted to hearings on Security matters and hearings to determine the necessary scope of supplemental funding. That will include potential new revenue sources. The Council sessions next week will be on the enabling legislation and funding.”

  “Who are they going to tax?” asked Dekkard.

  “Newssheets and printers, among others,” replied Obreduur. “The Premier apparently feels both have contributed to the current unrest.”

  “Did he say that?” asked Ysella.

  “No. He let it be known indirectly. That way he can have Security shut down any newssheet that suggests he’s behind it.”

  “Can’t they print that it’s under consideration?” Dekkard thought he knew the answer.

  “Not unless they want to risk being shuttered. There was nothing said on the floor about it, but I’m certain Gestirn and The Machtarn Tribune will get the message, one way or other.”

  “And Security will be watching all the printers to see if any are producing broadsheets,” suggested Dekkard.

  “They’ve been doing that all week. They seem to think that strategy is working. That’s what Councilor Marrak said in the councilors’ lobby.”

  “Is he the new head of the Security Committee?”

  “It hasn’t been announced, but it appears so.” Obreduur paused. “Do you think Security will be able to stop the broadsheets?”

  “If the New Meritorists were able to place tons of dunnite inside Security buildings, I don’t see Security being able to stop them from printing broadsheets. Security had no idea about all the signs and placards that appeared during the Summerend demonstrations.”

  “That’s been my feeling as well. It’s going to lead to more unrest and trouble.”

  “Is there anything we need to know about?” asked Dekkard.

  Obreduur shook his head. “No. Not yet, anyway. It’s too early to make a political move. Right now, it won’t have any effect, and it will be lost or smothered if there’s more unrest.”

  Sitting beside Dekkard, Ysella nodded.

  77

  ON Furdi morning, Gestirn quoted Ulrich saying that the repair of the damage caused by the New Meritorists required funding for “enhanced security measures” supported by “targeted revenue enhancements.” Ulrich also called the demonstrators “criminals trying to destroy the long-standing Guldoran tradition of civil order.”

  Dekkard shook his head as he replaced the newssheet on the side table. He poured his café, took two croissants off the serving platter with two slices of quince paste, and sat down to sip his café while waiting for Ysella. He didn’t wait long.

  When she entered the staff room, rather than talk about the news, he said, “You did well with the knives last night. Do you think we could shop for knives for you before we go to Emrelda’s on Findi?”

  She stopped, clearly surprised, then smiled. “You do know how to surprise a woman. If we start early, she might not even know.”

  “You’d tell her. Besides, we’ll have to take a steamhack. Garlaand’s is a good three milles from here, and you’ll want to try several different varieties. You might do even better with one that has a narrower blade.”

  “Provided the councilor doesn’t need us on Findi.” Ysella looked toward the newssheet.

  “There’s nothing there,” Dekkard replied to the unspoken question, “except Ulrich fulminating against the New Meritorists and insisting on more taxes to pay for the damage to Security buildings. The story doesn’t mention any of those who might be taxed.”

  “That’s no surprise. This way he can keep everything quiet until no one can do much to stop him.” Ysella poured her café, then sat down.

  “That will just make the Meritorists angrier.”

  “Which will justify his taking stronger measures.” She paused, then said, “As for Findi, right after breakfast, I’ll write a quick note to Emrelda and have Rhosali send it off with any other messages.”

  After breakfast, while Ysella wrote to her sister, Dekkard readied the Gresynt. The drive to the Council Office Building was uneventful … as was the morning, until slightly after fourth bell, when a messenger arrived with a cardboard tube and presented it to Karola. “A Council missive.”

  “In a tube?”

  “They said it was a proclamation.”

  Karola signed for it, then opened the tube and extracted the proclamation. Without a word, she turned and carried it into Obreduur’s office.

  A few minutes later, Karola stepped out of the inner office, followed by Obreduur.

  “Have everyone join us,” Obreduur said quietly.

  When everyone was gathered around Karola’s desk, Obreduur laid the “proclamation” on the desk, a proclamation that turned out to be a broadsheet.

  “You all need to read this,” said the councilor.

  Dekkard’s eyes widened at the very first words he read.

  Government Corruption

  Corporacions steal from the public lands, then overcharge the Navy.

  No one g
oes to gaol; no one is punished; but everyone else pays.

  Five Hundred Deaths Every Year!

  Security detains more than five hundred people every year who either die under questioning or in custody or simply vanish. This doesn’t include the nearly one hundred shot or killed for peacefully protesting during Summerend.

  Security Censorship!

  Anything the Commercer Premier doesn’t want printed never gets in the newssheets. More than 5,000 stories set to be printed by Gestirn were either heavily edited or deleted by Security censors over the past two years.

  Privilege and More Privilege

  The government now restricts university enrollments to the well-off, cutting funding even for the brightest students from working and craft families.

  Join the New Meritorists for Better Government!

  “I imagine there are other versions,” said Obreduur mildly. “The fact that the New Meritorists could get this to the office shows they’re far more entrenched than Security knows.”

  Or far more clever. Dekkard did not voice that thought, deciding to listen, instead.

  “How could they do this?” asked Raynaad.

  “It wouldn’t be that hard,” said Anna, surprisingly to Dekkard. “Message tubes all look alike. The Council seal is everywhere. Anyone could copy that. You can open them, and if the broadsheet is slipped in with the print side out you can’t see what’s on it. Put a note on top of the basket with the tubes signed by the Premier’s office that says ‘Send one to every councilor.’ We get one or two of those every week. Usually it’s the legislative calendar or a notice to be posted. Nothing that’s all that urgent.”

  “Very effective,” said Obreduur. “Council Security will become even more intrusive. Right now, it would be wise to be careful in any private messages you dispatch from here.”

  Measured as Obreduur’s voice sounded, Dekkard doubted he was that calm.

  “Are those numbers correct?” asked Margrit after a moment.

  “For the most part,” replied Obreduur, “I imagine they are. Some might be out of context. The deaths in custody, especially. There are roughly forty cities of some size and several thousand towns and villages. That works out to a little more than one death or disappearance a month in each city. Some of those deaths are not the fault of Security. Now it may be that the Meritorists are only listing the questionable deaths. But the other charges and figures suggest an even greater range of problems for Guldor.”