by Scott Meyer
Phee considered her words.
“Did you notice that I said, in my power, not that I can?” Migg asked.
“Yes,” Phee admitted. “The word can is open to interpretation. In your power includes things you don’t want to do. I did notice that.”
“So, are you satisfied with my promise?”
“Yes,” Phee said.
“Good. While we’re on the subject, I’ve had limited exposure to Her Ladyship. How good will she be at detecting subtle verbal evasions?”
“Very good. Lady Jakabitus is the smartest person I’ve ever met. If you’re less than honest with her, she will know it.”
“I don’t doubt it. Life is a little easier if I can allow myself a loophole or two, but they are not strictly necessary.”
“I must point out that Wollard never felt the need to allow himself loopholes.”
Migg opened the door, inviting Phee to precede her out of the room. As they resumed their journey to Her Ladyship’s offices, Migg asked, “Wollard genuinely cared what the staff thought of him, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” Phee answered.
“And did he care what Her Ladyship thought of him?”
“Very much so.”
“And he wanted you to think well of him?”
“I think so.”
“And he’s not here anymore, is he?”
Instead of answering the question, Phee said, “If you want me to think well of you, that was the wrong thing to say.”
At that moment, they mounted the escalator, allowing Migg to stop walking and turn and face her new protégée as the slab of polished stone on which they stood floated in an upward spiral around the inner perimeter of the Grand Gallery atrium.
“I know, Phee, and that helps me prove the point I’m about to make. This is the first official lesson I’m teaching you as your new mentor. It may be the most important, and it’s one Wollard couldn’t teach you. Phee, people who care will always be at the mercy of people who don’t. Wollard was deeply concerned about making sure everything went perfectly, all of his efforts met with success, and everybody liked him. It was a lot of pressure he didn’t need, and in the end he couldn’t handle it.”
“And you only cared about usurping him, and you were willing to do it at the expense of everybody’s respect and trust,” Phee said.
“I am here to do my job. I’d like it if you, the staff, and Her Ladyship were to think well of me as a person, but at the end of the day, it’s not critical.”
“You’re saying that it’s better to care less? That can’t be true.”
“Why not?” Migg asked.
“Because it’s awful!”
Migg nearly laughed. “You’re probably right. After all, we all know how wonderful the truth is.”
They rode the rest of the way to the top floor in silence, looking out through the copious windows at the city and the ocean, and down into the dizzying atrium of the Old Palace.
When they arrived at their destination, Migg looked around the vestibule. “You know, I’ve never actually been to Her Ladyship’s offices before.”
“Is it everything you hoped it would be?” Phee asked.
“Oh, it’s marvelous. The whole palace is. The architecture, the furnishings, the ornamentation, all exquisite. I didn’t expect the walls of Her Ladyship’s offices to be jet black, though. Shall we go in?” Migg asked.
“Yes,” Phee said. “Let’s.”
45.
Lady Joanadie Jakabitus sat behind her desk. The office was a veritable master’s thesis on all of the various colors, shades, and light qualities that could be described as dark. The walls of the office, like those in the vestibule, were as black as the surface of a pool of ink. The immense windows were darkened to the point of almost total opacity, with only thin slivers of clarity running vertically along the entire height of each window, creating razor-sharp blades of light that scythed through the darkness, painting burning lines on the floor. The lines emphasized the darkness, exaggerated the size of the room, and silhouetted Lady Jakabitus.
“Come in,” the Lady-Jakabitus-shaped shadow said. Her voice was courteous and businesslike. It made the hairs on the back of Phee’s neck stand on end.
“Good morning, Milady,” Migg said as she walked into the office, Phee trailing behind. “I hope the day finds you well.”
“To be honest, I’m a bit tired. I was up late last night, reading the Charter of Arbitration.”
“Rather dry bedtime reading, I should think.”
“Yes, but fascinating. It really is a very carefully worded document. Quite ironclad. So much so that I’m more than a little surprised my predecessors agreed to it.”
“Indeed,” Migg said, “but happily, the leaders of all of the civilized worlds saw fit to ratify the charter.”
“All of the civilized worlds,” Lady Jakabitus repeated. “What, exactly, constitutes an uncivilized world, Migg?”
“The uncivilized worlds, Your Ladyship, are defined by the Arbiters as those inhabited planets that are either ungoverned, ungovernable, or whose rudimentary governments are too backward to yet participate in civilized commerce and political interaction.”
“Which describes all of the worlds that have not ratified the charter,” Lady Jakabitus said.
“I suppose it would,” Migg said.
“And as such, the leaders of those worlds are not required to, I quote, have a senior Master of Formalities, or another official representative of the Arbiters, present to advise and consult them whenever they are conducting or discussing any official business of state pertaining to any interaction, formal or informal, between their government and the ruling family or elected governmental agencies of any other world.”
“Your knowledge of the Charter of Arbitration is most impressive,” Migg said.
“More so today than yesterday, perhaps,” Lady Jakabitus said. “In fact, my experiences with you and Wollard have caused me to see Arbitration in a new light. It has always been presented to me as a means of simplifying interworld politics, but I now see that, if abused, it could be a means of controlling it.”
“Too true,” Migg said. “Sadly, any tool can also be repurposed for use as a weapon. That is why the charter takes great pains to specify that you are not required to follow the advice of any Arbitration official.”
“Which brings me to my point,” Lady Jakabitus said in a slightly louder voice. “You are now the senior Arbitration official on this planet, and the charter says that I have to keep you here or else risk having my planet declared uncivilized, which would be economically ruinous. That doesn’t, however, mean I have to listen to a single word you say. My morning briefing is about to start. You will stand against the wall and you will not say a word unless I am about to breach good form or you are spoken to, neither of which will happen. If, for some reason, you do feel a need to communicate with me during the briefing, I suggest you do so through Phee, as she is the only member of your organization who has any of my trust at the moment. If you understand, signify by slinking off into the shadows.”
Migg bowed, then slunk off into the shadows along the wall. Phee followed, feeling more than a little smug.
Images of generals and ministers replaced the paintings on the wall. Their expressions were all grim, which set the tone for the entire briefing. The Hahn had not grown any less belligerent. Causalities were mounting and the supply of soldiers was beginning to run low. Every time a soldier had to be reconstructed, the military removed three months from that soldier’s term of service. It was a way to thank the soldiers for having given their lives to the cause, if only temporarily. Now, many of the soldiers had been reconstructed enough times to be automatically discharged.
The loss-retardant measures had kept the soldiers from dying, but they were not keeping them in the military.
It was suggested that
the soldiers’ terms be unilaterally extended, but Lady Jakabitus dismissed the idea out of hand, which was a good thing, as to do so would have been very bad form, and would have required Migg to speak up. Instead, Lady Jakabitus assigned a general to research ways to motivate soldiers to reenlist voluntarily.
The briefing ended. The paintings reverted to their normal subjects. Lady Jakabitus reverted to sitting silently in her darkened office, acting as if Migg were beneath contempt.
She swiveled her seat to face Migg and Phee, still standing silently in the shadows along the wall.
“I suppose,” Lady Jakabitus said, that same professionally conversational tone that made Phee cringe, “that Kamar Hahn must be rather pleased with himself.”
“I suspect so, Milady,” Migg said.
“And why is that?” Lady Jakabitus asked.
“No specific reason, Your Ladyship. Lord Hahn is pleased with himself as a general policy. It is always a safe bet to state that he is pleased with himself.”
Lady Jakabitus was in no mood for levity from anybody, least of all Migg, but the comment had nicely confirmed her own opinion. It was at Lord Hahn’s expense, so she allowed a sneering half-smile before asking, “What do you want here, Migg?”
“I will happily answer your question, Milady” Migg said, “but first I must point out that the far more important question is what do you want, Your Ladyship?”
“I disagree,” Lady Jakabitus said. “My question is far more important, because I asked it.”
“Point taken, Milady. I want nothing more than to do my job, and my job, as I perceive it, is to help you, Lady Joanadie Jakabitus, and only you, attain your major goals.”
“That’s very . . .” Lady Jakabitus paused, glancing down at her desk, “specific. Only my major goals?”
“I would be pleased to also help you attain as many minor goals as possible, Milady, but as we both know, the less important must often be sacrificed to attain the more important.”
Lady Jakabitus nodded. Her eyes lingered on her desktop for a moment before she spoke. “That’s certainly what I want to hear, but why should I believe a word of it?”
“Because it has the ring of truth to it, Milady, and also because every surface in the palace is covered with microscopic devices that, among other things, can no doubt sense my brainwaves and tell you if I am lying. I suspect that if a lie is detected in this office you will receive a signal, most likely some visual cue in the design on your desktop.”
Lady Jakabitus looked up from her desktop with an undisguised look of disgust. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” she said.
“Milady, I know that I’m clever. It’s the one real gift I have, and I want nothing more than to put that gift at your disposal.”
Lady Jakabitus leaned back in her chair and studied Migg for a long moment. “As you say, all of the staff’s brainwaves are monitored for subterfuge as a routine part of the palace’s standard security measures. You managed to defeat it the entire time you’ve been here. How?”
“I defeated the lie detectors, Your Ladyship, by not lying.”
“You somehow manage to make that sound dishonest.”
“I fear it was dishonest, Milady. I kept my statements deliberately vague and played into people’s expectations, tacitly encouraging them to lie to themselves on my behalf. I said that I worked in Lord Hahn’s household, which I did. I said I was a low-level servant, and I promise you, that is exactly how Lord Hahn saw me.”
“And the stress of keeping up this charade didn’t register?”
“Milady, for the first week or so that I was here, I’m sure I manifested clear signs of being quite uncomfortable, even fearful. I assume the monitors simply interpreted this as the stress of working in a new place, as a servant to Master Hennik.”
Lady Jakabitus shook her head. “You amaze me.”
“Thank you, Milady,” Migg said.
“That was not a compliment,” Lady Jakabitus said. “You stand here explaining how you’ve misled every person you’ve met since before you arrived on this planet as if you think it’s a reason for me to trust you.”
“It is, in my opinion, Lady Jakabitus. As you’ve seen, I have one gift, and that’s my ability to cleverly choose my words. As such, if I make an unequivocal statement, it is not by accident.”
Lady Jakabitus considered this, then said, “Go on.”
“We Masters of Formalities are discouraged from speaking ill of our former rulers, but in this case I am comfortable with telling you that I always found Lord Hahn, his government, and his culture distasteful in the extreme. Lord Hahn is of the opinion that you want nothing more than to end the war on Ophion 6 with as little fallout as possible. He sees that as a weakness. I disagree. I see the war as a foolish, wasteful, pointless conflict, and while I would not presume to claim that I understand you, I can imagine that were I in your place, I would want it to end as soon as possible. Still, I would want to do it in a way that did not lose face for my House and my planet or relegate me to history as the ruler who lost a multigenerational war for which my people have already sacrificed terribly.”
Lady Jakabitus said nothing.
“Not long ago,” Migg continued, “I conceived a plan. This plan, if successful, would allow you to end the war with honor, while also saving me to leave the hateful position in which I was stuck. So far, this plan has worked.”
Lady Jakabitus stared a hole in her desk as Migg spoke. She looked at it for a long time, not moving. When she finally sat back, the walls lightened from pitch black to a very dark blue, fading to lead gray toward the ceiling.
Lady Jakabitus asked, “And was Wollard being rebuked part of your plan?” Phee had been wondering the same thing.
“The plan was flexible enough to allow for Wollard’s cooperation, had I deemed him apt to participate, or at the very least, not interfere. Upon meeting him, I deemed him a bit too rigid, too brittle, for want of a better word, to do what will have to be done. My report to the Arbiters of yesterday’s events describes his efforts in positive terms, emphasizing exactly how far and how hard Master Hennik had pushed him. There are no guarantees, but I hope that he will be reassigned to another great house with little unpleasantness.”
Lady Jakabitus seemed to accept that answer a bit more readily than Phee did.
“What is the next part of this plan of yours?” Lady Jakabitus asked.
“For now, Milady, it’s best for you not to know,” Migg said. “You have not agreed to anything, and I will not make any moves that will affect your standing or interests without your approval, but now that you know who I am and understand my motives, I can put the last few pieces into place.”
Lady Jakabitus nodded.
“There is one detail you should know, however,” Migg said. “Lord Hahn still believes that I am working for him.”
The blue color on the walls suddenly took on a repeating pattern of black thorn bushes. Lady Jakabitus noticed this, smirked, then said, “You should know, the walls of this office and the room outside change dynamically to reflect my mood.”
Migg said, “I suspected as much, Milady.” She looked down at Phee, who noticed there was no anger in Migg’s expression, just amusement and respect.
46.
Lord Frederain Jakabitus sat in his customary seat in the newly reclaimed training room. On the mat, Hartchar and Rayzo were tied into a flailing knot of twisted limbs, slowly spinning as they struggled against one another.
Migg and Phee entered, paused for a moment to watch the practice, then quietly approached Lord Jakabitus.
“Hello,” His Lordship said. “Welcome to the training room, or, I guess I should say, welcome back.”
Migg bowed. “Thank you, Lord Jakabitus. Yesterday’s events were . . . unpleasant. I am sorry that you and your family had to be subjected to them, especially your son, who, if I may say,
handled himself with great dignity given the circumstances.”
“Yes,” Lord Jakabitus said, watching his son grapple with Hartchar on the mat. “I’m quite proud of my boy. Of course, it would have been better if he’d never been captured to begin with, but none of us expected Hennik to do what he did.” He paused to look sideways at Migg before adding, “Except you. I suspect you might have seen it coming, right about the time he explained his plan to you.”
“Milord,” Migg said, “again, I’m not at all proud of the part I played in yesterday’s events.”
Lord Jakabitus waved her off. “It’s in the past, Migg.”
Migg said, “I must say, Milord, you’re being much more understanding about this than I might be in your situation.”
“You were under strict orders to assist Hennik, and you were bound to keep his confidence. I’m not happy about it, but I understand. Rayzo says that you were kind to him after the actual assault, and if security had deemed you and Hennik to be a real threat, we would not be having this conversation right now.”
“I believe that is true.”
“Good, because it is. As far as your new position goes, I liked Wollard personally, but his downfall was largely self-inflicted. You loaded the gun and handed it to him, but he shot himself in the foot. And he did advise Joanadie to take in that little turd Hennik. He lost her trust when he did that, and you don’t have it in the first place, so I figure it’s pretty much a wash.”
“I believe the proper response to that, Milord, would be: fair enough.”
With that, Lord Jakabitus returned his concentration to his son’s exertions. Migg glanced at Phee and arched an eyebrow. Phee shook her head, which only made Migg smile.
The three of them watched Rayzo and Hartchar struggle against each other. A great deal of effort was being expended, but there was precious little motion to show for it. Hartchar was taller, more muscular, and more experienced than Rayzo, but the boy seemed to have established a stalemate.