Master of Formalities

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Master of Formalities Page 21

by Scott Meyer


  “Wollard,” Glaz said, “there’s an emergency.”

  “Of course, Glaz. If someone needs medical attention or there’s a security breach, I’m sure the new addition—”

  “No,” Glaz interrupted. “It’s an emergency of a more . . . social nature. It’s a problem of etiquette. We need you, Wollard. We need you to tell us what to do.”

  Glaz moved across the Grand Gallery at a speed that was just a touch slower than a run, then rode to the second floor. She was followed by Wollard and Phee, who were followed by the rest of the staff. In the large servants’ hall, the group felt small. Here, in the vast gallery, they seemed miniscule.

  They found Hartchar pacing like a caged animal in front of the closed door to the training room.

  “You see? It’s like I said,” Glaz explained. “He’s barricaded himself in the training room, and he refuses to come out. He says he’ll only talk to you or Lady Jakabitus.”

  “Wollard,” Hartchar said, her eyes afire with delight at seeing him. “Tell me, how much force am I allowed to use against Master Hennik? I assume it would be bad form to break bones, but is there anything I can sprain? There are several parts of him that I’d very much like to sprain.”

  Hennik’s muffled voice from the other side of the door shouted, “Is Wollard here? Good. Bring him close.”

  Wollard put his head next to the door and shouted, “Master Hennik? It’s me, Wollard. I’m here. What did you wish to say?”

  “Only that I refuse to talk to anyone but Lady Joanadie Jakabitus, ruler of Apios.”

  “That was stupid,” Ebbler muttered.

  “It was good form,” Phee said quietly. “Essentially, Master Hennik just declared his position that Wollard is merely a means of communication, and that anything he says to Wollard from this point forward is meant to be related to Lady Jakabitus, and anything Wollard says back will be interpreted as Her Ladyship’s official position.”

  “Okay, it’s not stupid,” Ebbler said, “but it’s confusing.”

  “The Formalities often are,” Wollard said, making it clear to Ebbler that he and Phee weren’t being as quiet as they thought. “That’s why people like Phee and I are necessary.”

  Wollard made fleeting eye contact with Phee, and while he didn’t smile or even nod, it was clear to her that he’d approved of her explanation enough to make him momentarily forget that he was unhappy with her.

  Or maybe, she thought, he’s so unhappy with the rest of his life right now that he seems happy with me in comparison.

  Wollard returned his attention to the door. “I understand, Master Hennik. Is there anything you would have me tell Her Ladyship?”

  “Yes. Tell Lady Jakabitus that I am formally reasserting my belligerence.”

  “I think you mean hostility, Master Hennik.”

  “Shut up! Tell Lady Jakabitus that having invaded Apiosan territory more deeply than any other Hahn in history, I have officially claimed this gymnasium, along with its attached sanitary facilities, as Hahn territory.”

  Shly said, “He can’t do that!” She looked to Hartchar, Glaz, and Barsparse, all of whom remained grimly silent.

  Phee said, “All he’s done so far is block a door and declare some things. He can declare anything he wants. It doesn’t mean he’ll get away with it.”

  Wollard said, “I will relay your message to Her Ladyship, but I shouldn’t expect a positive response if I were you.”

  “And you shouldn’t expect me to care if you were you,” Hennik’s muffled voice replied. “Also tell her that shortly after I annexed the training room, I caught an Apiosan encroaching on this newly sovereign Hahn territory. His name is Rayzo Jakabitus. As the prisoner is a minor, and I am a member of a hostile world’s ruling family, which is greater in years, wisdom, and every other sense to the Jakabituses, I will show Lady Jakabitus the courtesy of raising young Rayzo as my own son.”

  “Master Hennik,” Wollard said. “I urge you, for your own sake, not to harm Master Rayzo. If you already have done any harm to him, I suggest you open this door immediately and allow us to offer assistance.”

  “Wollard, I’m shocked at the very suggestion that I would harm my adopted son. Shocked and offended.”

  Wollard grimaced, but said what he knew he needed to say. “I apologize, Master Hennik. I meant no offense. I am certain that you have not harmed Master Rayzo, and that he is available to send greetings to Lady Jakabitus.”

  “I was never offered the opportunity to send greetings to my father,” Hennik said, “but the Hahn are not heartless. Migg, remove my son’s gag and bring him here.”

  There was the faint sound of a chair being dragged across the floor, then, from beyond the door, Rayzo said, “Wollard, will you please tell this idiot that he can’t get away with this?”

  Phee remembered what Wollard had told her. We never tell members of the ruling family that they can’t do a thing, because that would not be true. They can do anything they can get away with, no matter what the Formalities say, and if they remember that, we lose all power over them.

  Wollard sagged onto the door, letting it carry his weight. “I am sorry, Master Rayzo, but it’s not my place. Are you hurt?”

  “They have me gagged and tied to a chair, but they haven’t hurt me.”

  Wollard said, “I’m pleased to hear it,” then turned away from the door and said in a quieter voice, “Phee, please go brief Her Ladyship at once.”

  Phee left at top speed.

  Wollard turned back to the door. “Master Rayzo, if I may ask, who is in there with you?”

  “It’s just me, Hennik, and his valet, Migg. Honestly, Wollard, if you just broke open the door, Hartchar could come in by herself and—”

  “Migg, I think the boy’s getting a little overstimulated,” Hennik interrupted. Migg’s voice said something quiet in an apologetic tone, then Rayzo’s voice was muffled, replaced by the sound of a chair being dragged off into the distance.

  Wollard said, “Master Hennik, it’s going to be rather difficult, living the rest of your life and raising an adopted son entirely in the training room.”

  “It’s less than ideal, I admit, but war sometimes forces us into uncomfortable positions.”

  Wollard resented the fact that he could relate so well to that statement.

  “Besides,” Hennik said, “it’s not so bad. We have plenty of room for three people. We have sanitary facilities. The mat will give us a means of passing the time and remaining physically active, and will serve as a place to sleep.”

  “What about food?” Wollard asked. “There are no bulkfabs in the training room.”

  “An interesting question, Wollard. I wonder if there is any precedent in the Formalities regarding the supply of food to a small, hostile population, which is completely surrounded by a superior force.”

  Wollard turned to face rest of the staff. They were looking to him for some sign. They got it, but the sign didn’t say anything they liked.

  37.

  Wollard walked slowly to Lady Jakabitus’s offices. Though his body had not changed, he seemed to have lost several inches of height in recent weeks. His formal black uniform was still impeccable, and his hair was still perfectly styled, but he was disheveled on a spiritual level, and it showed. He looked at the wallpaper in the vestibule and was impressed. He wouldn’t have thought it possible to make a graceful, tasteful-looking wallpaper pattern that incorporated elements that flashed bright red.

  He opened the door. Lady Jakabitus was sitting behind her desk in her dressing gown, her hair pulled back and clipped in place. Clearly, Phee had found her while she was still preparing for her day. Even unprepared, Lady Jakabitus looked more formidable than any other person Wollard had ever met.

  Phee was standing before Her Ladyship’s desk, but she retreated as soon as Wollard entered.

  “Ah! Wollard,�
�� Her Ladyship said. “I am glad to see you.”

  Wollard bowed. “Milady, it’s always a pleasure. I am, however, sorry about the circumstances of our meeting this morning.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” Lady Jakabitus asked, smiling angrily, a difficult trick that she appeared to have been practicing. “This is a joyous occasion.”

  “Milady?”

  “I can see why you’re confused, dear Wollard. I’ll admit, this isn’t how I envisioned becoming a grandmother.” Her smile smoothly faded into a snarl as she spoke. Wollard was so focused on her voice that he barely noticed her rising to her feet and leaning forward across the desk.

  “Who could have guessed,” she continued, “when I adopted Hennik to be my son that he’d go on to adopt my other son. With a single stroke, he has made himself a father, me a grandmother, and Rayzo his own uncle! I do hope Rayzo realizes that he’ll be expected to occasionally give himself gifts.”

  “An interesting turn of events, to be sure,” Wollard said.

  “Yes! I know I’m interested,” Lady Jakabitus said. “Specifically, I was just telling Phee . . . oh, by the way, I’m very impressed with how Phee handled the task of breaking the news to me this morning.”

  “I’m not surprised, Milady. I knew Phee could be counted upon to impart the information swiftly and clearly.”

  “Oh, she did, but what really impressed me, Wollard, was that she had the good sense to look fearful and ashamed!”

  Wollard froze.

  Lady Jakabitus smiled. “That’s more like it. Now, I was just telling Phee that I looked forward to hearing whatever precedents your archivists would dig up for this situation.”

  “I contacted the Arbiters as I made my way here. No precedent springs to mind, but as you say, the archivists are investigating. In the meantime, we must prepare ourselves for the possibility that the situation is, in fact,” Wollard coughed, “unprecedented.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lady Jakabitus said, directly contradicting her facial expression and posture. “Did you say that this might be unprecedented?”

  “It may well be, Milady.”

  “I believe this is the first time since I became ruler that I’ve faced an unprecedented turn of events.”

  “Indeed. After hundreds of years of Arbitration, across hundreds of worlds, there is little that the archivists have not seen before. That said, even without a firm precedent, the Formalities will suggest—”

  Lady Jakabitus held up a hand and gave Wollard a look that instantly cut him off. “Wollard, this is the first thing you’ve told me in weeks that has pleased me. Don’t ruin it.”

  Wollard nodded.

  Lady Jakabitus gave him a thoughtful look. “If there turns out to be no precedent, that means I’m free to act as I see fit, and I will set the precedent.”

  “You are always free to act as you will, Milady. If it turns out that there is no precedent, it will mean that I am able to offer you little guidance from the Formalities.”

  Lady Jakabitus sat back down and spun her chair to face the stunning view of the capital. Then she rotated to look at the portraits of her ancestors, many of whom had ruled the planet before her.

  When she spun back to Wollard, her face had changed. Her eyes were still keen and intense, but her expression was serene, confident, and unmoving, as if she were wearing a lifelike mask that was forged from steel.

  “How long before we know for sure if there’s a precedent?” she asked in an even tone.

  “The archives are vast, but archivists are efficient,” Wollard said. “If they haven’t found anything within twenty-four hours, you can reasonably act without fear of seeming rash.”

  “I wouldn’t want to seem rash, would I? Fine. We wait a day, for form’s sake. Then, if we’ve heard nothing, I’ll simply have security move in and subdue Hennik and his valet.”

  Wollard’s training was screaming at him to speak up. His sense of self-preservation was screaming at him to keep quiet.

  “Milady,” Wollard’s training said, “that course of action might be ill-advised.”

  Lady Jakabitus’s steel mask did not crack, despite her eyes’ attempts to bulge through it.

  “Ill-advised?” she asked.

  “Perhaps, Milady.”

  “Ill-advised,” she repeated.

  “It is possible, Your Ladyship.”

  “Ill,” Lady Jakabitus said, then stared at Wollard for a full five seconds before finishing, “advised. What a fascinating way to describe my actions. Ill-advised. Perhaps you could advise me, Wollard, as to whom the outside observer would describe as my primary advisor?”

  For weeks, Wollard had felt like he was sinking. Now, he felt like he was fully sunk. In his desperation, he reached out for the Master of Formalities’ most dangerous weapon: facts. When in fear of losing an argument, say things with which no honest person can argue.

  “Lady Jakabitus, sending security in could reinforce the mistaken view that Master Hennik is a hostage, not, as you have stated, an adopted member of the family.”

  “If word gets out,” Lady Jakabitus said.

  “Milady, your rule has been lauded for its transparency and honesty. The general schedule of life in the palace is a matter of public record. Any deviation is noticed. Indeed, I’m certain the postponement of breakfast has already been noted. If you were to clamp down on the flow of information now, it would take what seemed like a mundane anomaly and make it interesting, almost as interesting as calling in armed guards.”

  Her Ladyship pondered this grudgingly, then said, “Frederain and I could go in and discipline him ourselves. If word did get out, it would simply seem like normal parenting.”

  “Or an undignified spectacle, Milady. On many worlds you and His Lordship choosing to personally berate or actually assault Master Hennik would not be seen favorably.”

  “We could employ the utilitics to unblock the door and drag him out.”

  “Which, I fear, would be a spectacle that is both undignified and amusing, and would not result in less attention, Milady.”

  “I could simply wait for him to get hungry. How long could that take?”

  “Not long, to be sure, but whether he is considered a prisoner or a member of your family, denying him food would be very bad form indeed, and could result in a great loss of face.”

  Lady Jakabitus sneered but did not speak, which Wollard interpreted as a sign of reluctant agreement. Wollard glanced back at Phee, who was reading her papers. Wollard knew that there was a chance she was exchanging messages against his wishes, but he didn’t believe that to be the case. Phee looked up from her papers, saw that Wollard was staring at her, and tipped her papers forward slightly, as if inviting him to look, even though he was fifteen feet away. He interpreted the gesture as a sign that she had sent him something. He quickly dug out his papers and found her message.

  Wollard read the note and the attached precedent. After several moments of silent reading, Lady Jakabitus asked, “What is it, Wollard?”

  “I do apologize for the delay, Milady. I will be with you in a moment.”

  “Is it something important?”

  “I wouldn’t put you off otherwise, Milady.”

  “Is it from the archivists?”

  “No, Milady, it’s something Phee found.”

  “Then Phee can tell me about it while you get up to speed.”

  “I think,” Phee said, “that it would be best for Wollard to tell you, after he’s determined if it is relevant.”

  Well done, Phee, Wollard thought. Your survival instinct will serve you well. It is a shame it is not doing anything to help me.

  Wollard said, “Milady, I believe I’m ready to report. Phee has found a precedent that can offer a small bit of guidance for one aspect of the current situation.”

  “She found something standing here in this
room that your archivists haven’t dug up?” Lady Jakabitus asked.

  “They are seeking precedents for the specific situation of an adopted child declaring himself a combatant and then forcibly adopting his former sibling, which, as you can imagine, is a rare occurrence.”

  “Not rare enough.”

  “Indeed. Phee, quite brilliantly I must say, has instead sought out well-established precedent for the aspect of the current situation that possesses the most pressing challenge: Master Hennik’s decision to barricade himself in the training room and declare it Hahn territory.”

  “And what has she found?”

  “If a hostile force seizes territory and notifies the opposing Great House that controls said territory, the Great House must act to take back the territory in a swift manner. Failure to do otherwise can be seen as tacit admission that the territory has changed hands.”

  “So I have to flush Hennik out of there right now, or else the training room really will become part of the Hahn Empire?”

  “Not just yet, Milady. There is a complex calculus for determining what may be considered a swift manner. It calls into account the size of the invading force, the size of the territory seized, and the relative ease or difficulty with which the original ruling house can expect to reclaim its territory.”

  Lady Jakabitus looked at Wollard with an expression of tired contempt, as if she had been losing respect for him for so long that she was beginning to find it boring. “And what, pray tell, would constitute a swift manner in this case?”

  Phee cleared her throat.

  “Phee, have you completed the calculation?” Wollard asked.

  “I have,” Phee said.

  “How much time do we have to act?” Lady Jakabitus asked.

  “Four hours, Milady.”

  “Really? That long?”

  Phee aimed the bow of her boat directly into the oncoming tidal wave of Lady Jakabitus’s sarcasm and forged on. “Yes, Milady, assuming that the invading force consists of an adolescent male and a single adult, neither of whom has any military training, and the disputed territory is inside the most well-protected building on the planet, and said territory consists of two rooms which are devoid of weapons, one of which is partially padded, the formula suggests decisive action should be taken within the next four hours.”

 

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