WHILE Dekkard slept well, he still woke early and worried on Furdi, but since Avraal was still sleeping he did his best to shower, shave, and dress quietly, then made his way downstairs.
Emrelda was mostly in uniform, and sat at the breakfast room table finishing her café. “You’re up early.”
“I had a few things on my mind.”
“Imagine that.”
Dekkard poured his café and sat down.
Emrelda gestured to the copy of Gestirn at the end of the table. “There are two stories you both need to read. The first is about the corrupt former Security ministers. The other’s a version of the attack on the house here. It’s more about the coming trial of the three perpetrators who survived, and doesn’t mention any of us by name. You’re a highly placed government official. Oh, and there’s also a story about your Security reform act. A very small story.”
Dekkard shook his head. “I’m sorry. You had no idea what you were getting into when Avraal and I got involved with each other.”
Emrelda smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve worried about her for years.” The smile faded. “You two both want to save the world, or at least Guldor, and you’ve made a fair start. The problem is that too many people don’t like having their cozy corrupt privileges destroyed. It doesn’t help that Obreduur is using you.”
“I knew that well before all this happened. So did Avraal.”
“Knew what?” asked Avraal, yawning, as she entered the breakfast room, followed by Gaaroll.
“That Obreduur is using us and our idealism.”
“I warned you.” Avraal put a hand to her mouth to cover another yawn.
“You did. Very thoroughly,” Dekkard replied as he got up to pour Avraal’s café. While he was at it, he poured a mug for Gaaroll.
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome, but the ‘sir’ isn’t necessary in private.” Dekkard paused and studied Gaaroll, who wore a dark maroon tunic and trousers. “You look stylishly professional in that outfit. I like it.”
Gaaroll looked slightly embarrassed. “I do, too.”
“That’s good,” said Dekkard cheerfully as he seated himself and reached for the newssheet.
“Is something in there?” asked Avraal.
“Just three stories, Emrelda told me.” Dekkard began to read. The first story, and the largest, dominated the front page.
Justiciary Minister Serapha Marler Kuta announced yesterday the indictments of three former officials of the Security Ministry. Lukkyn Wyath, the former Minister, was charged with five violations of the Criminal Code, along with Maartyn Manwaeren, recently the acting Minister of Security, and Josef Mangele, who recently resigned as Director of the Office of Intelligence …
Dekkard quickly read the story, which essentially stated that all three had used their offices to provide illegal surveillance services to commercial and corporacion interests while neglecting their duties under the Great Charter. The story detailed much of what had come out in the Security Committee oversight hearings.
The second story was just as Emrelda had summarized it, with the addition that Mangele had authorized the attack, according to unnamed sources, and that two Special Agents and a subcaptain Special Agent had been indicted for attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, and breaking and entering, and malfeasance in office.
Dekkard frowned. Marrak had been moved to the Security Committee after Councilor Maendaan’s death in the Summerend demonstrations, and had briefly been chair. He would have been again—if the Commercers had won the election. But that was comparatively recent, while Jaime Minz had been a committee staffer for former Premier Ulrich for years. Minz likely knew enough to blackmail Mangele into ordering the attack. That would also mean that Minz knew enough that Mangele would likely never reveal that Minz had pressured him.
The third story, on the bottom of page two, was about the passage of the Security reform act. It did not mention Dekkard. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or relieved.
He put down the newssheet and quickly summarized what he’d read.
“None of that would have been reported a year ago,” offered Emrelda.
“That’s because none of them would ever have been caught, and the previous Council never would have held hearings,” replied Avraal.
“Will that stop them from trying to kill you?” asked Gaaroll.
“I don’t think we can count on that, Nincya,” replied Dekkard as he reached for the croissants and the quince paste.
“Why do they hate you that much?”
“I doubt that any of them”—with one possible exception—“hate me at all. I’m just someone who’s upset their plans for the Commercer plutocracy to take over Guldor, and they want to remove me as expeditiously as possible.”
“Plutocracy?”
“Rule by the very rich,” supplied Avraal.
“They already rule,” said Gaaroll.
“Not as much as they’d like,” countered Emrelda as she stood. “I’ll be late if I don’t get going.” She looked first at Avraal. “I’ll messenger your note before I go to the station.”
“Thank you. Ingrella will get a quicker response that way.”
Then Emrelda turned to Dekkard, and added cheerfully, “Try to have a less exciting day.”
“I’ll do my best, and we’ll see you tonight,” said Dekkard.
Emrelda picked up her patroller’s cap and left the breakfast room.
Dekkard passed a croissant to Avraal, and then cut his own croissants, quickly filling them with quince paste.
Little more than two thirds later, the three were on their way to the Council Office Building, with Dekkard taking another variation on one of the many routes he’d worked out, one which brought him to Imperial Boulevard three blocks north of Camelia Avenue.
As he turned onto the boulevard, Gaaroll said, “Really strong feelings west of here, sir.”
“How far west?”
“I’m guessing close to the river.”
“That’s a good mille, maybe farther,” said Dekkard. “Right in the middle of the Rivertown area.”
“Have to be strong for me to sense that far.”
Dekkard could believe that. “Are they moving this way?”
“No, sir. Just sort of boiling up.”
“I wonder what that’s all about,” mused Dekkard to Avraal. “Can you sense anything?”
“No. That’s way too far for me.” She turned her head. “But there’s a lot of smoke billowing up. It looks like it’s about where Nincya’s sensing feelings.”
“Maybe it’s a big fire. That would get people’s emotions running strong. Still. Nincya, let me know if it heads this way.”
“Don’t think it will, sir. Feels like lots of feelings all jumbled together. Might be because it’s so far.”
Or because it’s a huge fire.
Dekkard was still wondering about what sort of fire could get that large in Rivertown when he reached the Council Office Building. He pulled up in front of the west doors, then got out of the Gresynt so that Avraal could take it to work at Carlos Baartol’s.
As she eased behind the wheel, she smiled. “I’ll be back before noon. That way we can have something to eat before you go to your Workplace Administration Committee meeting.”
Dekkard watched her drive away before he and Gaaroll walked to the doors, entered the building, and made their way to the office, where he immediately began to read the mail and petitions. When he finished, he asked Colsbaan to come into the office.
“Luara, how are you coming on the working women’s project?”
“I’ve gone through all the relevant laws, both dealing with guilds and with legalist counsel, and I’m fairly sure that I’ve determined where and what changes need to be made. I’ve started researching the case law on representation of non-guild members by guild legalists. That’s going to take some time.”
“Have you heard anything from Myram Plassar?”
“Yes, sir. She replied almost immediately expressing support. She said it would take a week or so to gather the material that might be helpful. I’d estimate that it will be Unadi at the earliest before I get anything.”
“Is there anything you need from me right now?”
“No, sir. Not now. When I get farther along, I’ll give you the options for how we can approach it legislatively. I can see several possibilities, but I need to do some more work to see if case law precludes any of them.”
“I’ve made some inquiries of my own, and it appears that most patrollers won’t have a problem with such a law.”
“Some will.”
“I know,” replied Dekkard. “That’s one reason why those women need the law. If there’s nothing else?”
“No, sir.”
Dekkard stood. “Then I won’t keep you. If you’d tell Svard I need a minute with him.”
Moments after Colsbaan left, Roostof entered the inner office.
Dekkard motioned for him to close the door and take a seat. “How do you think Shuryn is doing?”
“Well enough. I’ve had him handling some of the correspondence dealing with engineering and practical matters. He writes well enough. A little too technical at times, but better than I did when I started.”
“How is his engineering research coming?”
“Faster, now. Initially, he had to find out where a lot of the material was. He was excited the other day to discover that he could access the national library of the Guldoran Engineers Guild. He told me that there’s very little there directly involving corporacions, but that by going through some of the papers he gets leads to other stories.”
“That sounds promising.” Dekkard’s words were cautious.
“More promising than either of the other two applicants.” Roostof snorted.
“How are Bretta and Illana doing?”
“Bretta’s a little sharper, but they both work hard. Illana knows more about Gaarlak.”
“I’d hope so. That was one of the reasons I hired her.” Dekkard paused, then asked, “Did you read this morning’s Gestirn?”
“Yes, sir. What story are you asking about?”
“None—directly. All three stories got me thinking about something else.” If indirectly because of Jaime Minz. “How do you think the New Meritorists really obtained all that dunnite?”
Roostof frowned. “I thought that was explained at the Security hearings.”
“Acting Minister Manwaeren was certainly telling what he believed to be the truth, but the so-called investigation took place months after the theft.” Dekkard explained what he’d already told Hasheem. “I suggested Hasheem look into the matter yesterday. He said he’d think about it. That the report might be missing by now.”
Roostof smiled. “Then the Justiciary minister can charge Wyath with destroying government records or something similar. His explanation before the High Justiciary could be very interesting, especially since the self-incrimination provision of the Great Charter doesn’t apply to ministry appointees in regard to their duties.”
“What if the report is real and the Navy corroborates it?” asked Dekkard.
“Then there’s the question as to why the Navy never made it public, and why they kept it from Security until Security asked. Either the Navy or Security is covering up something.”
Dekkard nodded. “I’d like you to write up how the Security Committee should approach the dunnite problem. Keep it between us. It could be more explosive than the Security reorganization act.”
“I can see that, sir.” Roostof paused. “Are you sure you want to pursue this now?”
“If it’s just between us, I’m not pursuing anything. But I’d like the option, and something like this needs to be handled carefully. You’re very thorough.”
“Yes, sir.”
After Roostof left, Dekkard considered the points that his senior legalist had brought up.
Avraal arrived at a third before noon.
“How’s Carlos?”
“He’s worried about you. He inquired about you twice, in different ways. I asked him if he’d heard anything from his contacts, but he said he hadn’t and that bothered him.”
“Meaning that something’s going on, and someone’s trying to keep it from getting to him?”
“Or that someone’s doing this on the corporacion side, completely with corporacion contacts, most likely people reserved for important matters.”
“Important removals, you mean,” said Dekkard sarcastically. “Except why is it so important to remove me? I’m just the second-most-junior councilor.”
“Do you want a list, dear? You had the nerve to draft and pass an act that everyone in the Council knew was necessary, but that everyone also knew that every large corporacion in Guldor would oppose. You’ve survived at least five assassination attempts, and are thought to be behind a well-connected councilor’s death. You somehow got selected over whoever Obreduur wanted to replace Decaro. You embarrassed the entire Security Ministry more than once, and, by passing your reform act, you’ve kept the New Meritorists relatively quiet. And finally, by that and by your very continued existence, you’ve made it difficult for the Commercers to concentrate on dealing with Obreduur, and that enabled him to put Wyath and the other top Security thugs on trial in a way that will further hurt and embarrass the Commercers.” Avraal paused. “It also galls many of them that you’re handsome and dangerous.”
“When you put it that way…”
“Is there any other way?”
Before Dekkard could respond, she added, “And some of them suspect you’re anything but done. Which you’re not.”
“Do I have a choice with Minz and Northwest Chemical likely after me?”
“Not really. Not now,” she replied. Then she offered an amused smile, one slightly forced, Dekkard thought, and said, “But don’t ask questions like a clueless little boy who’s just thrown a hornets’ nest into the middle of the table at a formal dinner.”
Dekkard managed a sheepish grin. “No more stupid questions.” At least, I’ll try. “Now, we’d better get something to eat.”
The two walked quickly, but did not rush, to the councilors’ dining room. There, as they entered, Kaliara Bassaana appeared.
“Good day,” said Dekkard politely.
“The same to you, Steffan, Avraal. Since you were so kind to invite me to eat with you might I prevail upon you two to join me?” Bassaana looked directly at Avraal.
“Of course,” Avraal replied. “We’d be delighted.”
“Three, please,” said Bassaana to the host, a thin man attired in black and gold livery, who escorted them to one of the circular tables for four.
Bassaana moved her chair slightly before seating herself, so that she was equidistant from Avraal and Dekkard.
As the server appeared at the table, Bassaana asked Avraal, “Do you know what you want?”
Avraal nodded.
“Then we’ll order everything now.” Bassaana inclined her head to the younger woman.
“Café, the chilled tomato soup, and a small side of greens.”
Dekkard gestured to Bassaana, who offered a small amused smile, but said, “Café, and the chicken salad.”
“Café also, and a half of the duck cassoulet with a small side of greens.”
“Very good, Councilors, Ritten.”
Once the server left, Bassaana said, “I’m so glad we had a chance to get together. You two are by far the most interesting couple of any in the Council.”
“Only for the novelty,” replied Dekkard dryly. “Someone like the Premier has accomplished far more. I also suspect it took you far more effort to get elected than it did me.”
“That’s very kind of you—”
“And truthful,” said Avraal. “Steffan doesn’t have that many illusions, and, except when referring to me, he’s definitely not given to flattery.”
Bassaana laughed gently. “I think you just made my point.” She paused, then said, “Before I forget, Steffan, I must congratulate you on the passage of the Security and Public Safety Reorganization Act. Something like it was long overdue, and the way you structured it was masterful.”
“That’s quite a compliment from you,” replied Dekkard. “I just tried to be practical.”
“I heard that you actually drafted it. Is that true?”
“Half true. I gave my legalists the structure and the basic provisions and then asked them to make it as legally solid as they could.”
“Why did you say the act was masterful?” asked Avraal.
“Because Steffan destroyed nothing. The STF remains intact, but under tighter control, which was definitely necessary. The Special Agents lost only the ability to carry firearms, which they’d abused, but not their jobs or their functions, placing them where they might actually be useful, and the regular patrollers can now concentrate on keeping the peace. No one could really complain that much. Well, except for a few who felt duty-bound to do so. And the vote was such that the Imperador will have to sign it, if he hasn’t already.”
“I was fortunate.” Dekkard could see the political rationale she’d described, even if he hadn’t thought of it that way. Was that accident, good fortune … or maybe what happens when you look at form and function first? Dekkard would have liked to have thought the latter, but suspected the first two—and Roostof’s care in drafting the language—also had a lot to do with the act getting passed.
“More than merely fortunate,” said Bassaana. “Effective. Hasheem was fortunate you took on the problem. Not all committees work that smoothly. Some don’t work at all, you’ll find.”
“Sometimes they get bypassed, as in the Kraffeist Affair,” said Dekkard, knowing that Bassaana had been outmaneuvered by Ulrich when she’d wanted to get at Eastern Ironway.
“That’s true,” agreed Bassaana, “but look where it got Ulrich.”
At that moment, the server returned with their drinks, entrées, and salads.
After taking a sip of café, Bassaana continued, “Speaking of committees, do you have any idea where Haarsfel is headed with these hearings?”
“He hasn’t shared anything with me,” replied Dekkard.
Bassaana smiled. “That wasn’t the question I asked, Steffan.”
Dekkard smiled. “I know, Kaliara, but I’m not about to speculate on what senior councilors in my party might be thinking. For a junior councilor, that’s not wise.” He paused, just slightly, and added, “I do have a thought, but it’s only my thought.”
“What might that be?”
“I’ve noticed that while the past Councils have passed some workplace safety rules affecting a number of occupations, they don’t seem to be enforced. In some cases, there’s actually no way to do so. It will be interesting to see the workplaces discussed in future hearings.”
“And you’ve not talked to the committee chairman?”
“Not once about anything concerning the Workplace Administration Committee.”
“That was most carefully said.”
Dekkard laughed softly. “I’ve talked briefly with him, in his capacity as majority floor leader, on two occasions, once before I became a councilor, and once after I was sworn in.”
“That’s all?” Bassaana sounded genuinely surprised.
“That’s all. I’ve been working hard to learn what I didn’t know about being a councilor. Outside of security and workplace matters, my knowledge in other areas is limited.”
“I assume you have more contact with the Premier.”
“A bit more, but not that much. We’ve had one dinner together, and he’s asked me to come by his office for a brief talk twice.” Dekkard offered an amused smile. “I did use his floor office to wash off the Atacaman pepper.”
Bassaana’s mouth opened, so quickly that Dekkard doubted the surprise was feigned. “Someone in the Council Hall attacked you with Atacaman fire pepper?”
“Inside the committee room. The one Security Committee clerk retained by Chairman Hasheem. Apparently, he thought I wasn’t deferential enough to the more senior Commercer councilors.”
“I assume Hasheem released him or had him charged with assault.” There was a touch of the righteous in the older councilor’s tone.
Dekkard shook his head. “He tripped trying to get away and inhaled the remainder of the dust in the pouch he held. He had some sort of respiratory failure. That was what Guard Captain Trujillo told me.” He hesitated. “You didn’t know?”
“Hasheem and the Premier obviously didn’t want anyone to know. The clerk wasn’t otherwise injured, was he?”
“The Guard captain said there wasn’t a mark on him.”
“I’m sure there wasn’t. It sounds like someone wanted you to overreact.”
“I’m glad I didn’t,” said Dekkard, “but I really didn’t think at all. I just wanted to avoid the pepper dust.”
“You were carrying your knives, weren’t you? You always do. I noticed that you’re carrying a personal truncheon now, too.”
“I have been since the committee incident. I wasn’t then.”
“Do you have any ideas?”
“It struck me as a more personal attack rather than a, shall we say, professional one. I know I’ve upset various interests professionally, but who could I have offended personally? Obreduur is the only councilor I even knew on a personal basis, and I didn’t and don’t know any ministers, corporacion senior officials, or others of power. Most of my acquaintances have been other security aides, and security aides don’t have the power and connections to set up something like that.”
“That’s an interesting point,” observed Bassaana.
“As you pointed out,” said Avraal, “Steffan’s Security reform act didn’t affect anyone personally, and he had nothing to do with the indictments of Minister Wyath and the others.”
“These things often work out over time,” said Bassaana.
“One way or another,” replied Dekkard. “We’ll just have to see. Is there anything interesting coming before the Transportation Committee?”
“Chairman Waarfel appears to be taking his time. We’ve only had an organizational meeting and a hearing about the abuse of excess appropriations. Something your former employer addressed in an amendment during the last days of the previous Council.”
For a moment, Dekkard was surprised, not only about the “supplemental” ironway appropriations, but also because he’d forgotten that Waarfel had become chair of the Transportation Committee, a position Bassaana would have assumed if the Commercers had won the election. The other surprise was that Haarsfel had chosen to chair Workplace Administration and let the undistinguished Waarfel chair the Transportation Committee. “Waarfel’s from Aloor, and his growers have never been treated well by the ironways. I can’t believe he has any great love of them. Have you talked with him?”
“Only in generalities. Like many councilors who’ve been here awhile, he’s cautious.”
“Is that an observation or a recommendation?” asked Dekkard, looking down at his plate to realize he’d already eaten most of the cassoulet.
“Every councilor has to discover what works for her or him. I’d judge that you’re careful, but neither patient nor cautious.”
“Whereas you’re careful, and only as patient and cautious as necessary?” asked Dekkard, keeping his tone light.
“Those are all necessities for women in politics or with power.”
“I’d say that they’re necessities for everyone in politics or power,” interjected Avraal, “except that many men don’t realize it.”
Bassaana laughed, then said to Dekkard, “She might save you yet.”
Dekkard let an amused smile cross his lips. “She already has.”
“Then you’ve learned more than most male councilors.” Bassaana took a small bite of chicken from the salad, then set her fork on the plate, as if to signify she’d had enough, even though more than a third of the salad remained, and turned to Avraal. “I’m curious, and I hope you’ll indulge me. You’re from a very old Landor family. Were you tutored, or sent off to school?”
Avraal smiled politely. “All of us were largely taught by my mother, but had occasional tutoring in advanced subjects until we reached the university level. My brother was sent to Imperial University. I studied at Sudaen Women’s Seminary, and then at the Empath Academy in Siincleer.”
Bassaana nodded. “Do you think you’re typical?”
“No,” replied Avraal with a smile. “No more than you are.”
“Point taken,” replied Bassaana cheerfully. “No woman with political position is typical.”
“Whereas there are enough men with power, political or otherwise,” said Dekkard, “that those who resemble each other are said to be typical.”
“And those who don’t are considered dangerous, as are all women with power.” Bassaana’s smile showed sardonic amusement. “That might be why the three of us are eating together.”
“To what end?” Avraal asked Bassaana.
“I have no end, except political survival, which will become increasingly difficult over the next year, especially once the demonstrations and riots resume.”
“Why do you think that will happen?” asked Avraal.
“Don’t you?”
“I’d be interested in why you think so,” said Avraal.
“The New Meritorists won’t be satisfied until they’ve destroyed the Great Charter or until they’re effectively destroyed. Either way, that will create unrest and more demonstrations. Avraal, you never did tell me how you ended up working for Obreduur.”
Bassaana’s abrupt shift back to Avraal told Dekkard that there would be no more political talk.
“I thought it would be interesting, and I applied. He interviewed me and hired me. That was five years ago. How did you get into politics?”
“It was the only way I could keep my independence, do something halfway meaningful, and avoid domestic politics.”
Marriage as merely domestic politics? “You never thought about marriage? Not ever?”
“Not as anything other than servitude.” Bassaana turned back to Avraal. “You were careful and fortunate.” She smiled. “This has been a most interesting conversation, and I’m sure there will be others. Now, if you will excuse me.”
Dekkard stood as she did, replying, “Most interesting.”
Once Bassaana was well out of earshot, Dekkard just looked at Avraal.
“She evaded but never lied. You didn’t know she wasn’t married?”
“How would I know?” Dekkard frowned. Amelya Detauran had always referred to Bassaana as Kaliara. He shook his head.
“What?”
“I wondered about her relationship with Amelya Detauran. I’ve gotten the impression that they’re closer than usual.”
“If there is a relationship it’s secondary to being a councilor. Everything is, I’d guess.”
“What does she want from us?”
“I think, from what I gathered, she truly thinks we’re dangerous, and she doesn’t want to be a target. That would fit with her indirect approaches to Obreduur and her backdoor assurances of support. Also, it’s clear from what happened in the last Council that she can’t trust the Commercer leadership.”
Dekkard recalled how she’d been sidelined during the Kraffeist Affair, when she’d tried to have the Transportation Committee look into Eastern Ironway. “How far can we trust her, if at all?”
“Only when it’s in her interest, but you already knew that, and there’s no doubt that she knows that you know.”
“Or that you’ve told me,” replied Dekkard.
“Either way.”
Dekkard nodded.
When Dekkard tried to sign for Avraal’s meal, the server informed him that Bassaana had already taken care of it.
“She can afford it,” Avraal pointed out.
As they walked from the councilors’ dining room to the Workplace Committee hearing room, Dekkard still wondered what else Bassaana had in mind. What Avraal said about Bassaana made sense, but she didn’t strike him as someone who’d merely settle for survival.
The hearing was long, almost three bells, and dealt with the log-handling practices of three separate corporacions: Jaykarh Logging, Eshbruk Timber and Milling, and Nolaan Wood Products. From what Dekkard heard, none of them were exactly distinguished by workplace safety.
When he returned to his office, he signed all the letters that didn’t require notes or corrections, and put aside the others for the morning. He also couldn’t help thinking about the fact that, sooner or later, he and Avraal needed to think about going to Gaarlak and finding a small property of some sort to satisfy the requirement of a physical tie to the district he’d been selected to represent.
The drive back to the house was nerve-racking, but thankfully without incident.