by Zen DiPietro
“Where does he get it?” Kassimeigh asked.
“I don’t have details. I only know that he has supporters who developed it for him.”
“Specifically for him? He’s the reason it exists?”
“Yes.” Stratos’ hands circled one another in nervous agitation.
“Did he ever indicate an awareness that it was dangerous?”
“No, not to me.”
Not that ignorance of the danger would absolve Sorenson, in his situation.
“Why is he distributing it?”
Stratos risked a glance at Ina. “Sorenson is ambitious. He’s been gathering supporters for some time now.”
“For what purpose?”
He glanced again at Ina, shifting anxiously. “Magistrate, you know that my clients’ activities are privileged information. I can’t discuss what one is doing with another due to conflict of interest.”
Unfortunately for him, the leader of the Council of Magistrates had the authority to attend any adjudication she chose, provided the justice did not decree otherwise. As a PR man to the magistrates, Stratos was even more aware of that than most. Kassimeigh’s interrogation trumped his conflict of interest.
“Sorenson wants to lead the Council,” Stratos muttered after a long pause.
The room went dead silent and all eyes went to Ina. A deep frown carved into her face, and she looked down at her clasped hands.
Kassimeigh wondered what she was thinking. She glanced at Izzy for a clue, but found none. “He’s gathering supporters in the hopes of replacing Magistrate Trewe?”
“Yes.”
“Who are his most valued supporters?”
“Burroughs, Olith, and Nik Greer.” Kassimeigh thought he was done, but he took a breath and rattled off a string of names that included some owners of tech firms, a couple of manahi whom she knew to be of moderate ability, and a few names that meant nothing to her. But it sure sounded like an impressive list. Sorenson had been very busy.
“Do they know his plan is to take over the Council?” Ina’s voice remained perfectly controlled and professional.
His eyes flicked to Kassimeigh to verify that he should answer the question. It was unusual for anyone but a justice to ask questions during an adjudication, though not unprecedented.
Kassimeigh nodded and Stratos answered, “I’ve heard nothing to that effect but it’s possible. Sorenson doesn’t plan to reveal his bid for the leadership for several more months.”
“What was supposed to happen between then and now?”
Stratos ducked his head, avoiding Ina’s eyes. “Sorenson intended to embark on a quiet campaign to discredit Magistrate Trewe. Shake the people’s trust in her.”
“How?”
“Blame her for keeping Umi Cabal and Sorrow a secret from the people. Discredit the Guard, and her responsibility for its development. Insist that the Guard is an unnecessary waste of resources. Also—” He paused and swallowed, shifting in his seat. “He planned to point out that the magistrate’s reliance on a powerful manahi and elder of the shiv order might mean that she’s being controlled by the order.” He shrank into his chair, staring at the floor.
Kassimeigh was impressed to see only a flicker in Ina’s eyes.
Izzy’s eyes had narrowed, but she did not indicate any untruth.
Kassimeigh could almost admire Sorenson’s plan. There was just enough basis in truth to make the lies look plausible. His campaign might have worked.
“What is the sparkle for?” Kassimeigh demanded.
Stratos’ eyes came up cautiously, searching first Ina’s face, then Kassimeigh’s. “A premium for strong supporters. Something unique that could gain him more allies by association. If he controlled the supply of something everyone wanted, he could control more votes.”
Political machinations like these could be simply unethical, but Sorenson had veered into illegal territory even before sparkle had killed people. If Sorenson hadn’t spearheaded the creation of sparkle it would have taken far longer to discover his treachery.
“But people died, and the trail led us to you, which in turn revealed him,” Kassimeigh finished. She wondered at all of the different threads Sorenson had strung out, and if there were more that she wasn’t yet aware of. Unraveling everything might take quite some time.
Burroughs and Olith would have to be adjudicated too, but later. They needed to remain where they were for now, to preserve the illusion that Sorenson’s plan had not been discovered.
Kassimeigh clasped her hands together and rested her fingers against her lips, considering.
“When do you expect to hear from Sorenson?” she asked Stratos.
“This afternoon. We were going to discuss his next banquet.”
Would she have the opportunity to do the research she needed?
“What time?” She glanced at her hand comm, and when he answered she realized she’d only have three hours.
She might be able to put it together by then. She’d need to call in some help, though. Fortunately, she had the necessary authority to make that happen.
Three hours later, early afternoon came with a sense of anticipation. A chime indicated that their guest had arrived, and Stratos nervously went to admit the man into his office.
It was a nice space, Kassimeigh had to admit. Clean, uncluttered, and professional. Its excellent location in the heart of Capital had surely added to Stratos’ veneer of prestige.
Stratos re-entered his office and darted to the side of the room ahead of his visitor. Magistrate Sorenson froze as soon as he cleared the doorway. His gaze shifted across all of the unexpected faces. Kassimeigh was sitting behind Stratos’ desk, with Ina to her left and Izzy to her right. Behind them, the three justices she had assigned to monitor Stratos stood, clad in full shoka, with only their eyes showing. Their presence wasn’t truly needed, but she thought they added a nice, imposing touch that might hasten Sorenson’s decision to be entirely forthcoming. Plus, they would help with the cleanup.
A final shiv sat to one side of the room, facing the desk. He was the only one of them not a justice, but he offered his own talent instead. Kassimeigh had been impressed with Ash, and this experience would put him on the road to becoming a justice. With his ability to mine data, she knew he would make an excellent cybercrime specialist. He’d helped her tear through Sorenson’s correspondence and personal files in preparation for this meeting. What she’d found had confirmed her suspicions, revealed a couple surprises, and sealed Sorenson’s fate.
When the magistrate had seated himself in front of the desk, Kassimeigh intoned, “Ken Sorenson. I am Shiv Justice Kassimeigh, elder of the Northern Keep. I’m here to adjudicate you.”
Sorenson’s ears and neck reddened. “What is this? Adjudicate me for what?”
Kassimeigh supposed, given his many crimes, his only hope was to feign innocence, but it was a ridiculous effort. “The list is quite long. I’ll stick to the biggest crimes. Indirect murder, as a result of sparkle use. Buying votes and impeding democracy. Terrorism.”
Sorenson’s redness spread, until his entire face had flushed. “This is outrageous. Someone has framed me.”
Kassimeigh sighed inwardly. She really hated it when they tried to lie their way out. It was a rare occasion, and the lies always made her feel like she needed a good shower, so she could rinse off their oily poison.
She nodded to Ash, who approached the wall-mounted comm panel. With a few deft movements, he brought up a screen.
“We have testimony and comm records that prove your connection to sparkle. We have testimony regarding your intentions for the leadership of the Council, and your travel and campaigning schedules. We also have comm records that have definitely linked you with the terrorist cell that bombed the monorail, resulting in the death of three Guard members.”
All of the red drained from Sorenson’s face and he turned white. Good.
“Did you know sparkle was dangerous?” she asked.
“It wasn’t
supposed to be. I didn’t find out about that until it was too late. Killing potential supporters would make no sense. I just wanted something new and exciting to give people.” Sorenson’s voice rose as he talked.
That rang true to her. “And the terrorist cell you created to protest the spark bugs? Did you intend for them to become violent, or were you only aiming for unrest?”
She could tell that was a different matter. He’d intended for things to get out of control. She knew realization of an unforgivable crime when she saw it.
He knew she saw it, too. His gaze skittered away from her, off to some far point in the room.
“I see. You intended the spark bugs to be your way in. You wanted Magistrate Trewe to fail, so that you could ‘solve’ the problem you’d created. You’d use that success and influence to take the leadership of the Council.”
He remained silent, staring at the far wall.
“Answer,” she ordered.
“It would gain me nothing. I’m a dead man no matter what I say.”
“Refusing to cooperate serves no one. The least you can do is own up to what you’ve done. We already have incontrovertible proof of your responsibility for the Guard deaths. By law, your actions can only have one outcome.”
When he remained silent, Kassimeigh looked to Izzy, asking for the answer he wouldn’t voice. She wanted to uncover every bit of information she could. Public reaction to this scandal would be huge. She needed to prevent backlash, and the shiv order owed it to the people to ensure that they were properly protected from anyone who might have harmed them. She bore a tremendous duty to do this right.
Izzy stared at Sorenson, then said, “It’s true. He felt it an acceptable sacrifice to gain power.”
Sorenson’s head jerked toward Izzy, and he stared at her. He opened his mouth, then closed it.
“Why was the leadership so important to you?” Kassimeigh pressed.
When he again refused to answer, Ina spoke. “He’s always wanted stricter controls. More laws, to protect people for their own good, even against their wishes. He felt we could govern their lives better, force them to make better choices.”
A nod from Izzy confirmed Ina’s statement, which rang in the quietness of the room even after she stopped speaking. Such government interference in people’s lives was unfathomable to Kassimeigh. This was why the shiv order existed, to ensure and enforce the modest laws that Terath did have. To attempt to replace the order with a parental approach to people’s lives seemed like a terrible joke to her. But it was no joke. She remembered the terrorist activity and how quickly the anti-bug movement had spread, before Ina had defused it. Sorenson could have been successful. All things happened by degrees and, had he taken control of the Council, he could have slowly changed the world.
“I see,” Kassimeigh said again. She shifted her weight and moved to stand directly in front of Sorenson, only inches away. “There’s just one more thing I need to know. The identity of the person who created the sparkle, as well as the identities of the mana-holders who charged it.”
Sorenson’s mouth tightened into a smug line. He thought he could refuse to talk.
She leaned slightly closer to him and murmured, “You can refuse to talk at this moment. You currently suffer nothing but the hardness of that chair against your backside. But I assure you, every shiv in this room can deliver a kind of pain that will split your mind, split your soul, and make you shout out every secret you’ve ever had without even knowing you’re speaking, because the screaming in your mind will blot out everything else.”
She stared hard at him before taking a step back, moving to stand next to the other shivs. “I assure you that my colleagues won’t rest until they’re assured that we have all the information we need to protect our people. That is the duty and responsibility we are charged with.”
Sorenson’s shoulders bowed, as if he were folding in on himself. “Inducement must be approved by the shiv council of elders. Unless you received an advance directive, you can’t do that.”
With her arms across her chest, Kassimeigh allowed herself a predatory smile that was not entirely for show. Sorenson’s eyes widened, and she knew she must look terrifying. A justice conducting a life-and-death adjudication didn’t smile.
“All of that plotting and campaigning must have distracted you from current events, or else made you forgetful. I’m an elder. And a manahi. And the commander of the Guard. There is no one on this planet who has true authority over me, unless I allow it.”
Saying it out loud transformed the passing thought into a self-defining fact, and the weight of it nearly took her breath.
“I’ll give you one last chance to talk,” she said.
He began talking.
The great thing about authority was the power to delegate. She assigned the three other justices to deal with Sorenson, as well as the people he’d named. She would let them sort out the three mana-holders and the scientist who designed the powder. They, in turn, would teach Ash about the adjudication process as they did so. Justice would be served according to Terathian precepts and the people would be protected.
Which left her with a debt to pay.
Contacting Élan via the comm would be too small a gesture for so large a contribution. Only an in-person visit would suffice.
She set her kite down outside Blind Bob’s and entered the traditional way, through the front-end security system. Élan’s smile was bright when she greeted her and led her into the sanctum, which to Kassimeigh resembled an indoor song circle that never ended. She supposed that was the point of such a place.
Élan led her upstairs to a private room and closed the door behind them. The bard gestured for her to sit. She took the desk chair, leaving the upholstered chair for Élan.
“As I told you on the comm, we’ve begun the end of sparkle. You’ll hear soon on the comm that Magistrate Sorenson has been adjudicated guilty of the development and distribution of sparkle. Also for organizing the fearmongering about spark bugs, which culminated in the recent terrorist events.”
Élan pulled in a breath. “Sparkle and the terrorists were related? But why? No, never mind, it could only be a power grab, right?”
Kassimeigh nodded, impressed. When she was done explaining the details, Élan’s eyes held sadness tempered by resolve.
“I can’t imagine if he’d been successful. We’d never have known he was responsible for sparkle and the terrorism, and he’d be shaping our world to his patriarchal vision.” Élan’s shoulders quivered, as if rattled by a chill.
“Yes. But thanks to the help of people within the order, Ina Trewe’s office, Finn and Luc at the lab, and the bard guild, we got underneath it and lifted him out before he could truly get his roots in. He thought he could shape the world, but the system worked the way it’s supposed to. We stopped him.”
Élan gave a small nod. She didn’t look greatly relieved, but perhaps that was better. Better that they all had become less naïve, more cognizant of ugly plots that could grow up beneath them. Or was it? Kassimeigh would meditate on the loss of innocence versus the gain of self-protection later.
Kassimeigh leaned forward. “You played a key role in getting to the bottom of all this. You let us know what we were looking for. We all owe you a great debt of gratitude.”
Élan tilted her head, and her eyes flickered with veiled thoughts as she processed that idea. “I like the sound of that. What does the payback look like?”
Kassimeigh laughed. Élan had a way of boiling things down to the basics. Her forthrightness, after the recent weeks of digging, puzzling, and plotting, was wonderfully refreshing.
“That depends on what you want to ask for.”
“Ohhh.” Élan rubbed her hands together. “This is going to be good. How many wishes do I get, genie?”
Kassimeigh laughed again. “Depends on what you ask for,” she repeated.
“Well, I know what my first wish will be.”
Kassimeigh smiled to herself. She cou
ld tell from the glint in Élan’s eyes that she would either really like the request, or really hate it.
Standing outside the same hall in the Sanctuary monorail where the Minstrel Awards had occurred, Kassimeigh hadn’t yet decided how she felt about Élan’s event. No matter. She would attend and be gracious, regardless of how it turned out.
“You’re sure your shoka was the right choice?” Arc wore brown pants and a tailored white shirt, just as he’d wear for a day of archery.
“Yes. Élan said the theme of this indoor song circle was ‘True You.’ She wants everyone to wear whatever best represents who they are.”
A group of five bards passed by them as they hovered just outside the entrance. The bards joked cheerily to one another, clearly excited about the event ahead.
Arc’s mouth twisted into a knowing smirk. “And you’re a shiv.”
“Damn straight I am. I answer to Terath and our justice system. I am my own kind of shiv and intend to impose that on the order in all the best ways.” Recent events had erased her reluctance about being an elder. Now, she looked forward to finding new ways to utilize her position for the greater good.
“I almost pity the other elders.” He paused, then asked, “‘Damn straight’? Since when do you say that?”
“I think it’s a bard thing. I kind of like it. Thought I’d try it out.”
“I like it when you swear.” He leered at her and she laughed.
A guy in an expensive suit bumped into Arc and apologized before moving on. Kassimeigh didn’t know why, but Élan had wanted to include both her bardic brethren and Kassimeigh’s close friends and colleagues. She suspected Élan wanted to make her think about who her friends really were.
“I suppose we should stop hanging around out here,” she mused. She lifted her chest and put her shoulders back as if going into a sparring session.
Arc grinned. “Don’t look so happy about it.”
She took in a slow breath and let it out, then bumped him with her hip. “We’ll make a good time of it, one way or another. I’m glad to have an evening with you.”