Glen let out a mock laugh. "Major," he said again. "There's a difference between summarizing and omission." Ed put his frustration into clenching his fists harder. What the hell are you doing, Glen?
"May I approach the Magistrate," Ed said through a tightened jaw.
Glen nodded for the clerk to lift his pen and then waved Ed on up.
"Where the hell are you going with this," Ed whispered, holding his fist from punched the wooden bench. "My investigation is done. You already know everything. I'm just here so you can sign your damn papers, not to defend what I wrote."
Glen covered the right side of his mouth to shield it from the clerk. "I'm trying to save your ass, Ed," he whispered. "If I had submitted this…report… to you back during the war, you know damn well you would have put me on latrine duty for a month."
Ed took in a sharp breath, lowering his eyes. Exhaling he said, "Just be quick, then."
"Don't worry, I know how hard this is on you," he replied before straightening back up in his high chair. He nodded again to the clerk. Ed returned to his usual place before the bench, hands behind his back again. "Major," Glen began. “Your investigations are complete, are they not?”
“You know damn well I wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.”
Glen raised a finger to the clerk; he lifted his pen.
“Ed, please,” Glen said. “This is serious. There will be powerful people reading this.”
Ed snorted, shaking his head. Those “powerful people” don’t give a damn about this investigation, what Central Office stamps on their documents, or Araa, so long as General Order One is carried out. So long as Araa dies. Glen nodded forward, creasing his forehead as if waiting for Ed to clarify his statement. Ed stifled a curse instead and stood straighter, refusing to answer. Glen groaned, lowering his finger for the clerk.
“We have here your report,” he began again, putting on his pince-nez. “…here, it says that during this month’s orientation, a maintenance worker had been exposed to the excavation, but I can’t find her name here.” Glen locked his eyes on Ed, nodding forward and creasing his forehead again with a bit of agitation creeping in the corners of his lips.
“You used the correct pronoun, Magistrate,” Ed said. “You know it’s a ‘she.’ You know who it is.”
Glen rolled his eyes. “For the record, Major.”
“That’s right. One person had been exposed.”
Glen relaxed into his seat, making a loud frustrated sigh. “And who is it?”
He grumbled, muttering curses under his breath before glancing at the clerk and hoping he caught a couple of them.
“Ed,” Glen said, his voice softening. “Please cooperate. This is the final leg of your job. After this, it’s over. Just let me close this damn case and save your job so I can sign off treatment for that poor girl. You know what’ll happen if we wait too long.”
Yes, insanity. Ed remembered his own ‘treatment.’ The surgery, the confusion, the convolutions, the hallucinations, the constant nausea; that throbbing behind his eye that he could almost imagine pulsing right now…and, of course, that ominous doom he felt crushing in on him at sudden times. But, Araa wouldn’t be given that chance. General Order One: No liability. Araa was a lowly maintenance worker and a foreigner and she knew now what they were hiding in the mines. The doctor, under Ed’s supervision, would purposely conduct an unsuccessful surgery, a surgery that for all practicality would have killed her anyway.
“Well?” And Glen, the bureaucrat, was kept blissfully unaware. No liability. No record. …Except for Ed’s conscious.
Ed turned his back. “Araa. Her name is Araa.”
“Araa...?”
“Yes, Araa! You know damn well they only tell us their first names.”
“Her island, Ed.”
“Ankyres, in the north.”
“And her current condition?”
“She’s been isolated to the jails for observation. She’s been treated for burns, nausea and muscle convulsions. She hasn’t lost her mind yet, just doing her mantras laying on a cot. Medic mages have found the expected tumor and are working with Doctor Alexander to plan for her…treatment, if she makes it that long.”
“She will, Ed. She will,” Glen added. “From what you wrote, she was only exposed for a few moments. Dr. Alexander told me her prognosis is pretty good…considering.” Considering, I’m going to have order him to kill her anyway. “I’ll go ahead and release the funds for her treatment."
Omen slouched, placing his focus on the doors exiting the court room. Treatment? Can't call it a treatment if it hardly works. Killing her would make little difference than trying to save her.
“You know it’s for her own good, Ed. You remembered when you got too close to it. And, you were exposed for hours.”
“No, I…still don’t remember.”
“I do! It was terrible; I’d never wish anyone go through that. Forty-three people exposed. Twenty-three of them got treatment in time and only four survived. Two of them are still alive today. You and Elbsy.” If you call it alive. “It’s her best shot, Ed. You know that.” Ed let silence fall between them, relaxing his hands and hoping to hear Glen’s gavel mark the end of the hearing…but it didn’t. “It’s a wonder, isn’t it,” Glen starting up again. “Why do those things even exist?” Philosophizing? He’s philosophizing now? I’m not Gene, Glen; I don’t give a damn. “And why they do what they do? Bestow on us incredible skills and kill us at the same time.”
“Are we done, Glen,” Ed said, taking a step toward the door.
His friend sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I’m sure you know how popular that girl is in town. I have to ask you to guard her and keep her isolated. We can’t have her telling people what she saw.” She won’t be given the chance. “If she survives the operation, we’ll come up with a plan to incorporate her into our main facility. She’ll have to stay here for a long time, or…” Glen chuckled. “Until we can figure out how to use that damn Beast to get back at Sig.”
Ed looked back over his shoulder at his oblivious friend, wanting to tell him the truth of his orders. That Araa didn’t matter, that all this was just a show, and by next week she’d be sent home to be buried. But telling him would have made matters worse for both of them. Besides, it’s what Glen would have wanted —and needed— wasn’t it? The military charged to do the dirty work while the bureaucracy showcased the enlightenment of the nobles with their governments of justice and mercy. To have Glen’s ignorance protected, so he could sleep at night and wouldn’t have to drink even more. So instead of telling him, Ed lowered his eyes and nodded in acknowledgment to what Glen said.
“And one more thing,” Glen continued. “I have to ask you how we can prevent this from happening again. Your corrective measures.”
Facing away, he answered, “You know how.”
“Uh…you didn’t write it—"
“Destroy it. …All of them,” he said before storming out, restraining himself from tearing the doors off with him. Damn the gavel.
Once outside, Ed fisted his shaking hands as his heart thundered inside him, his ankles weakened, then his legs. Darting his eyes to a chair by the doors, he shrunk into it, bowing his head forward and closing his eyes. It’s coming, as he should have expected it; this whole affair would call the terrors upon him.
Suddenly, a wave of anxiety prickled through him with heightening senses, that familiar feeling of dread and danger that tricked his very self to think death was upon him. No, it wasn’t a trick, this was real. If it were only the fear for his life, his rational mind knew he was in no mortal danger, sitting there on a small chair in an empty hallway. But his mind, unsatisfied with reason, raced to find another possible danger and found one to grapple onto: his sanity.
Everything passes, he repeated. Patience. Everything passes. Terror stuck him like the rising tide of an ocean, threatening to drown him. Please, listen to me! Everything passes! You have to leave here. Stop resisting! Ed tightened his closed eyelids
. “Everything passes,” he said to himself. We’ve been betrayed. We can’t keep our promise! Ragnarok must be planning with Blekengor. You must prepare. This was not the first time he felt this way, and he had long learned that it’s better to let these feelings pass than to fight them, a strategy he wasn’t used to. Patience, this will pass. Soon his heart slowed, and his mind cleared. Sounds of distant voices came to his ears. “Morning,” one said. “Ah, you’ve brought bread and eggs,” another one.
He opened his eyes and for the first time noticed the orange light of the morning sun streaming in from the windows, giving the hallway bricks a warm glow. The smell of fresh bakery consoled him. Ed stood and walked –legs still wobbly— to the window. Outside, the yard had already become a busy place with clerks and servants rushing, and Central Office guards organizing a growing crowd by the entrance and waiting for the doors to open. Ed had taken the day off for his testimony with Glen, but his friend still had a long day ahead of him. Guilt pressed upon him; he shouldn’t have been so hard on him in there. Glen still had to deal with the public relations mess that’s bound to come. Araa…she just had to become so damn popular.
Ed looked down at his hands, steady once more. He was ready now. He’d have to go see Araa and tell her…what? That she would need a treatment with a chance of success no better than the disease? And not tell her she’ll die anyway, Ed told himself. He didn’t remember his own treatment, but his body recoiled whenever he tried. He took in a few deep breathes. Araa would probably die even if the doctor truly tried, he told himself. The younger ones usually did. The treatment, so Ed was told, was more psychological than physical, although there was that operation to remove the tumor. And Araa was from the Islands, not known for their strong minds. Ed cursed and turned away. No Glen, it’s not ‘over’ for me.
He marched down the hallway with his head up, trying to ignore that foreboding feeling that usually lingered for a while. At the end were two Central Office guards manning the doors in their more ‘decorative’ dark blue uniforms than the military’s red and browns —the kindest way Ed could describe them. One was sitting eating his breakfast; the other stood as he ate. Eating at their post? Doesn’t Central Office hold any standards? Ed tightened his jaw, holding back from barking at them. One shot a wide-eye surprised glance at Ed before scrambling to his feet. The other put his plate down on the nearby windowsill. They both saluted. “Major.”
“At ease,” Ed replied, batting his hand downward. Though Central Office guards weren’t military and not strictly under Ed’s command, he oversaw all security in Ruby City and so, he would argue they should respect military code —one of many points of contention with Central Office. “I’m off duty, gentlemen.”
“Oh.” They both glanced at each other. “Would you like some breakfast then? …uh, sir?”
The other guard jeered at him.
“No, thank you,” Ed replied. “Open up, I’m done here.”
One of them scrambled for the key, taking a rather long time. “It’s busy out there, sir,” he said. “Lots of people out today.”
“It’s busy every day,” the other guard replied.
“No, more so today. It’s because of what happened at the mines.”
Ed jerked his head straighter. “And what happened in the mines,” he asked.
The guard’s keys giggled; the door’s lock echoed open. “Uh, isn’t that why you’re here, sir?” He opened the door as murmurings and whispers rushed in from outside.
Ed discerned a few words, ‘Araa,’ and ‘cell blocks.’ He rushed his hand against the door, slamming it shut. “Lock it,” he said, but the guard froze. “I said locked it!” The guard finally did and Ed exhaled as a tremble in his hand threatened another terror to return. “What are your names, guardsmen,” he asked, straightening himself up while hiding his hands behind his back.
“J’rek,” said the one with the keys.
“Taylor,” said the other, sitting back down to enjoy his food.
“How far spread are the rumors?” They paused and looked at each other. “Well?”
“It’s Araa, sir,” J’rek said. “Everyone around here knows she’s been hurt. Heard it from Lady Roz, you know, the one in charge of Town’s Labor this tour. She’s really been trying to find out what happened to her, thinks it’s her fault Araa got herself mangled up.” She could have come to me, Ed thought. But he knew what she really wanted, more ‘personal assistants.’ She probably had her eyes on the docile Islander ever since Araa first arrived. Ed grimaced. Nobles always do whatever the hell they want.
“Araa used to come by here a lot too and sing her mantras,” Taylor added between bites. “When she didn’t show in a while, everyone started asking around.” He shifted his eyes between Ed and his food, looking uncomfortable. He shouldn’t be eating on duty, anyway. “So, you can imagine, sir. All these people here wanting to wish that Islander well. …I hope she’s OK.”
Ed let the conversation die as he thought things through. He knew she was popular —their amiability made them so— but he never guessed this kind of reaction. He should have! And now this, a mob of well-wishers. And they knew she was being kept in the jails, probably a mob there too. He almost thanked the Almighty that he only needed one other person, Doctor Alexander, to carry out General Order One. If that news got out….
“The trouble is no one can see her,” J’rek said. “Why is that, sir? I’d like to wish her well too.”
“Her injuries are extensive,” Ed quickly replied, wishing he hadn’t. But they already knew the jest of it anyway. Just not the most important part: that she was exposed to that Beast.
“Extensive,” J’rek repeated, drinking his coffee. “Must have been bad, then. Uh, how did it happen, if I may ask?”
“The investigation is still ongoing,” Ed replied. “Better to leave it at that for now. But gentlemen, I need your help. Those people out there. I would rather not meet them, especially if Lady Roz is out there too. Araa needs time to heal and it wouldn’t be good for her health to have them rushing to her now.”
Taylor stood. “Understood, sir.” Then he hesitated. “But truth is, I don’t know another way—“
“I do, dear boys,” Glen’s voice sounded behind him along with a hint of blueberry sweetness. He gripped his hand on Ed’s shoulder. “So, you want out, huh?” He held a cup of dark wine in his other hand. Neither of the guardsmen saluted him.
He’s become too familiar with them, Ed thought. He glanced sharply at Glen’s cup.
“Yea, I know what you’d say, Ed,” he said. “I only ask that you say it with your own cup in your hand.” Ed grimaced. “Always so serious. Serious Ed Omen.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit improper, Magistrate,” Ed said, nodded to the guardsmen who no doubt to Ed were becoming uncomfortable.
“Oh right,” Glen said. “Guys, I’m stepping out with the Major for a minute.” He then put his finger against his nose. “I wasn’t here, and I didn’t say that either. Oh, and if one of my bottles goes missing, I won’t go off searching for it. One Bottle! Can’t have drunk guards, can we?” Taylor smiled sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders as J’rek avoided Ed’s eyes. “But it won’t be that easy,” Glen continued. “Do me another favor too. Do it well, and I’ll throw in a bonus. Those people out there….” Glen walked to the window and looked out. “Wow, busy day ahead. Well, I guess it won’t hurt to make it busier. Guys, on my authority, don’t open this Wing to any of them until I get back from whatever the hell we magistrates do all day.”
“Glen,” Ed warned. “They’re here to find out about Araa. Delaying court hours isn’t going to help.”
“Sure it will,” Glen said, nodded with a sure grin on his face.
“What will you be doing, Magistrate,” J’rek said, nervously. “In case they’re…uh, persistent.”
Glen shrugged. “Just put the blame on me, that you saw me with papers stuffed everywhere on me. Make it up J. Rek. It’ll be fine. Those people don’t
look armed and I’ve survived worse,” he laughed, twisting Ed by his shoulder, back down the hall. “Listen here, Ed—“
“You can’t do that,” Ed whispered. “If they’re caught drinking on the job and delaying the opening…” Glen gave him a flat stare. “What? What is it?”
“Ed,” Glen said. “You’re a smart man, but you’re also an idiot. Those guys aren’t going to drink now. They’re on duty.”
“If they were under my command…,” Ed grumbled.
“If they were under your command, they’ll never have a drop of it. I have no doubt you’d be devising all sort of disciplinary actions to work the fun out of them.”
Ed stopped walking with Glen nearly bumping into him. “And why not,” he said. “You know where we are? Do you know if word gets out about what we’re really doing here?”
Glen waved his cup around, rolling his eyes. “One half of the world would go to war with us for sacrilege while the other half will try to steal it. I know that song and dance.”
“Then your mind isn’t as gone as I thought.”
He took in a gulp. “Give it a second.”
Ed stormed ahead of him, muttering under his breath. Glen had always been so reckless, worse now ever since he started drinking all the time. But it wasn’t just him. Central Office had always been far too lax, mixing company of those who knew of the Beast and those who didn’t know. A night off, a couple of drink and then a slipped word. That’s all it would take, and Sig would be back in Ladress with his monstrosities. That’s why Araa had to die.
“Hey, Ed,” Glen said, catching up with him. “I’m joking. You’re really worked up about all this Araa stuff, aren’t you?”
Ed grunted.
“It’s over, friend. Not in your hands anymore. As Gene would say, it’s in the hands of the Almighty, which since his spirit supposedly isn’t in the world anymore, I guess—”
“You finished,” Ed said, trying to cool. “Show me the way out.”
“How about joining me for a talk instead?” He wiggled the glass in his hand.
Call of the Chosen- Broken Kingdoms Page 21