QUINDI morning found Dekkard awake early, thinking about the correlation between the absence of would-be assassins and Minz’s absence from Machtarn, even though he well knew that correlation didn’t necessarily prove causation.
Still, it is interesting. He also wondered just where Minz had gone. His gut instinct said that the former security aide had taken the ironway to Siincleer, to Siincleer Shipbuilding in particular. Minz had been gone for at least several days in the middle of the week, suggesting that he had gone on corporacion matters, while the fact that he was an influencer suggested that the matter involved the Council and affected both corporacions, and that Minz had gone in response to someone at Siincleer.
All of which tells you nothing. At that thought, Dekkard slowly eased out of bed and began to ready himself for the day, which would be long by the time services were over and they ate. After dressing, he picked up the envelope he’d prepared the night before.
Avraal was ready for breakfast and actually preceded him down the steps. She also carried an envelope.
“My envelope or yours first?” he asked.
“Yours.”
When they reached the hall off the breakfast room, Dekkard said, “Emrelda, could I have a moment, please?”
Looking puzzled, Emrelda rose from the table and walked out into the hall.
Dekkard extended his envelope to Emrelda. “Happy birthday.”
Emrelda looked at the envelope.
“Open it,” urged Avraal. “Carefully.”
Emrelda did so, easing out the black and gilt-edged card.
“Read it,” said Dekkard. “It is for you.”
Her mouth opened. “For me? This is an invitation to the Council’s Yearend Ball.”
“Each councilor has one, and only one, guest invitation.”
“Steffan didn’t ask me,” said Avraal. “He told me.”
“But, you could—”
“No,” said Dekkard gently. “It’s for you.” He smiled. “I’m told you have several gowns that will be suitable.”
Emrelda looked from Dekkard to her sister, and back to him. “Thank you.” Her voice was uneven.
Dekkard eased back and let Avraal move closer to Emrelda.
Avraal extended her envelope to Emrelda. “Happy birthday. You already had your present, but you deserve something on the day itself.”
“You didn’t have to. The knives…”
“I wanted to, and it’s from the heart.”
Dekkard could see that both of them were close to tears and eased slightly farther away.
“You wrote?” Emrelda could barely get the words out.
“I did. I shouldn’t have stopped.”
Emrelda wrapped her arms around her younger sister.
After a long hug and more than a few sniffles, the two separated.
Emrelda cleared her throat. “You … two … this … it’s special…” After another moment, she said, “I’ll probably be late, but I don’t care. Not too much.” She hugged Dekkard and murmured, “Thank you.” Then she embraced Avraal again.
Dekkard swallowed, glad he didn’t have to say anything.
Some minutes later, and after Emrelda had left for work, he asked Avraal, “The envelope?”
“Just a birthday poem of sorts. I used to do that when we were younger. I haven’t in a while. I should have. I told her we’d take her to dinner. She refused. So I said you and I would fix dinner.”
Dekkard put his arms around her. “You’re a good sister.”
“I could have been better.”
“You are now. You can’t change the past. You’re changing the present. That’s what counts.” He paused. “I didn’t say anything about del Larrano and Venburg to Emrelda.”
“Don’t. There’s no point in it until we know a lot more.”
Dekkard nodded, then led her to the breakfast room, where Gaaroll was finishing a croissant, and then fixed their cafés.
After that, the only disruption to an otherwise uneventful breakfast and drive to the Council Office Building was when Gaaroll sensed strong feelings—and then death—which turned out to be an accident on Imperial Boulevard, where a small and battered Ferrum had turned in front of a massive steam lorry that flattened the much smaller Ferrum and its driver.
Avraal once more took the Gresynt, and Gaaroll and Dekkard walked the short distance to the building doors through the chill but comparatively light wind and from there up to the office.
“You have two messages, sir,” said Margrit cheerfully as Dekkard entered.
“Thank you.” Dekkard took both envelopes, then opened the envelope stamped “From the Premier” and began to read.
With votes on amendments on two major sections of the annual appropriations yet unaddressed, all councilors should plan on a full day of votes on Unadi, and possibly on Duadi and Tridi.
Dekkard just nodded and turned his attention to the second envelope, which bore only his name and title. Inside was a single card.
Steffan—
I appreciated very much your luncheon invitation and the engrossing conversation we shared. Your insights are, unfortunately, in advance of the information necessary to bring them before the committee at present, but I will keep you informed and trust you will do the same for me.
The signature was simply “Erskine.”
Dekkard nodded, then looked back to Margrit. “I need to talk to Svard and Shuryn first or as soon as Shuryn arrives. Then I’ll deal with the replies.” He smiled. “I know you know that, but I feel better when I explain.”
“I understand that, sir. I was always explaining to Anna and Karola.”
Dekkard then walked to the door into the staff office. Bretta and Roostof were the only ones there, not that the others had to be. “Svard, just bring Shuryn with you when he arrives.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dekkard turned and entered his office, where he shed his overcoat and hung it on the hook on the back of the door to the small washroom and lavatory. Then he settled behind the desk. Because he’d thought about what Emrelda had said the night before, he quickly composed a message to Obreduur telling him that in the last week, Special Agents had not shown up in a number of patrol stations, but also saying he had no idea what that meant, only that Obreduur should know.
After having Margrit dispatch the message, he started reading and signing the replies awaiting him. A sixth passed before Roostof and Teitryn entered. Dekkard gestured to the chairs in front of the desk.
“Sir?” offered Roostof once he was seated.
“I have no complaints with either of you. I had lunch yesterday with Councilor Mardosh, the chair of the Military Affairs Committee.” Dekkard looked to Shuryn. “In your research so far, have you come across the names of Juan del Larrano or Pietro Venburg?”
“I know that Juan del Larrano is the presidente of Siincleer Shipbuilding. I don’t recognize the other name.”
“Pietro Venburg is the vice-presidente for legal affairs at Siincleer Shipbuilding. I understand his purview extends to Siincleer Engineering. I need to know more about both, as well as any publicly available information on any contacts and associations. Again, it’s vital that no one know I’m looking. I mean no one outside of this room—except Ritten Ysella-Dekkard. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Despite his agreement, Teitryn looked uncertain.
“Neither individual likes others knowing more about him. If they find out that a councilor is looking for this sort of information, it could make accomplishing any reform of engineering contracting and construction much more difficult, if not impossible.” Dekkard smiled pleasantly. “Our job is going to be hard enough without making it more difficult.”
“Ah, sir?”
“How difficult? We finally accomplished Security reform, but in the process, three councilors were killed, as well as several regional councilors, a score of Special Agents, and several hundred others.” Dekkard was exaggerating slightly, but he had the feeling that Teitryn didn’t quite understand. “If matters go wrong with trying to reform engineering contracting, it could be just as … messy.”
The younger aide actually swallowed. “I see.”
Dekkard doubted that. “That’s all for that, right now. Svard, I have another matter for you. Shuryn, you can go.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once the door closed, Roostof smiled sadly. “He still doesn’t quite get it. What was the other matter?”
“That was the other matter. In dealing with Security and the New Meritorists, Premier Obreduur was almost killed several times. So were Avraal and I. This won’t likely be that obvious, but Shuryn’s already aware of a good half score deaths likely arranged by the Siincleer corporacions. That doesn’t seem to have made an impression on him. Take him to lunch at the staff cafeteria and see if you can get the point across.”
Roostof offered an amused smile. “I can do that.”
“Thank you.”
After Roostof left, Dekkard went back to signing or changing replies. He even managed to read through the just-arrived letters and petitions before leaving for the Council Hall with Gaaroll.
“Moderately strong feelings coming toward us,” murmured Gaaroll after they descended the staircase and walked toward the courtyard doors.
The only people approaching were Kaliara Bassaana and her two security aides.
“You mean the councilor?” asked Dekkard quietly.
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll see what she has to say.” Dekkard slowed his steps and, when Bassaana neared, said, “Headed to the Council Hall?”
“Where else, Steffan?”
Dekkard laughed gently and replied, “With you, I’d be reluctant to guess.”
Amelya Detauran stepped ahead and opened the courtyard door for both councilors.
Dekkard followed Bassaana but stepped up beside her, while Gaaroll dropped back to keep pace with Amelya Detauran and Elyssa Kaan.
“You’ve been more social lately, Steffan, and it hasn’t been just with Craft councilors.”
“I knew no councilors, even casually, except Obreduur,” replied Dekkard. “I’m just trying, bit by bit, to get to know people.”
“Such as Yordan Farris.”
“He was polite to me at committee meetings.”
“And?” pressed Bassaana, with a hint of the sardonic in her voice.
“He was polite to me at committee meetings.”
Bassaana laughed quietly. “You do have a way of making yourself clear without ever using derogatory terms.”
“I try to keep those in reserve.”
“I saw you eating with Gerhard Safaell the other day.”
“He wanted to talk about the legal construction of the Security reform proposal.”
“I could see that.” Bassaana’s tone conveyed a hint of doubt that legalese was the only topic discussed, and when Dekkard did not immediately reply, she went on. “You’ve lunched with quite a few councilors.”
“Just to know them a little better and to get any advice they would like to share.”
“Was there any common thread in their advice?”
“There was a certain emphasis on patience,” Dekkard said dryly.
“Everyone sees patience as a virtue in others. Sometimes, it is.”
“I’m still trying to sort that out.”
As they approached the bronze doors to the Council Hall, Bassaana smiled. “It’s always interesting to talk with you, Steffan, even for short periods of time.”
“Thank you. I’ve learned from you as well.”
For a fraction of an instant, Dekkard thought he caught an indication of surprise. He certainly hoped so, as he stepped back and let Bassaana enter the Council Hall first.
When Dekkard left Gaaroll and entered the councilors’ lobby, Tomas Pajiin immediately moved toward him.
“What’s on your mind, Tomas?”
“Lunch. I hope you’d join Julian and me.”
“Julian? Julian Andros, from Zeiryn?”
“Is there another Julian in the Council?” Pajiin grinned.
“Not that I know of, and I’d be happy to join you both.”
A few minutes later, Dekkard sat down behind his desk in the Council chamber and waited for Obreduur to reconvene the Council and for Haarsfel to bring up the next section of the appropriations—Security and Public Safety.
Even so, Dekkard knew that there would be more than a few amendments.
By the time the Council recessed just after midday, there had been votes on six amendments, four of them minor adjustments. The fifth amendment, offered by the Commercers, would have added funds to rebuild the destroyed regional Security offices. Dekkard voted against it, as did all the other Craft councilors, but all the Commercers voted for it, which surprised him, as did all but five Landors, which concerned him even more. While the amendment was defeated 32–34, the vote suggested a deep-seated desire by many for a stronger Security force than permitted under Dekkard’s reform.
The last amendment would have appropriated additional funds to pay a healthy “severance” to Special Agents who chose not to accept investigative positions at either the Treasury or Justiciary Ministry. Dekkard felt it represented a blatant attempt to reward Special Agents. The vote there went along straight party lines, the nineteen Commercers for, and all the Craft and Landor councilors against.
After announcing the results of the last vote, Obreduur recessed the Council until first bell. Dekkard stood and left his desk. In moments, Pajiin and Andros joined him, and the three walked to the councilors’ dining room.
After being seated, all three ordered the duck cassoulet and café.
Dekkard glanced around the dining room, catching sight of Schmidtz eating with Kuuresoh, hardly unexpected since they were two of the three Commercers on the Military Affairs Committee. Breffyn Haastar listened to Kharl Navione, while Kaliara Bassaana lunched with Harleona Zerlyon. That has to be an interesting conversation.
“Friggin’ Commercers,” muttered Andros. “How could they even offer that last amendment?”
“How could they not?” replied Dekkard sardonically.
Andros looked almost offended. “That was a payoff attempt. Nothing more.”
“Exactly,” replied Dekkard. “The Special Agents have been doing dirty work for the Commercers for years. Reforming Security stopped them from being paid by the Council for that, and the Commercers had to offer something to indicate support.”
“That’s the point,” replied Andros. “Anyone with brains knows that. Why were the Commercers so blatant about it?”
“Because those who know won’t support them anyway,” Pajiin said, “and because they don’t want disgruntled Special Agents going after them.”
“They wouldn’t do that. The Commercers and the corporacions are all that they’ve got behind them.”
“All?” Pajiin imbued the single word with heavy sarcasm. “That’s most of the marks in Guldor.”
“Most of those marks are filthy,” muttered Andros. “My brother’s a patroller first, and Security headquarters ordered him and the others in his station to attack the Meritorist demonstrators last Summerend.”
“What happened?” asked Pajiin.
“The captain claimed the orders arrived late. That’s what Lendrew told me. No one got shot. The Specials were really pissed.” Andros looked to Dekkard. “Do you know why the Premier didn’t discipline the Specials who conducted those unauthorized raids?”
“The director who ordered the raids fled Guldor after ordering them. I imagine there’d be a problem in disciplining agents for following orders, even unauthorized orders.”
“The Specials are all bastards. They did what they wanted. They all feel so superior to the regular patrollers. Be glad when they’re all transferred.” Andros paused. “When does that happen?”
“Sometime in the next two weeks. It has to be done before the tenth of Winterfirst.”
“Should have been sooner,” said Andros.
“That was the best Steffan could do,” replied Pajiin. “He had to fight everyone to get a date that soon. The Commercers wanted three months.”
“They would.”
“We can’t do anything about it now.” Pajiin stopped as the server arrived with the three duck cassoulets. After the server left, he turned back to Andros. “How are things working out with Chairman Safaell and the Waterways Committee?”
“He knows the law. He should—he was a legalist for the Boatmens Guild. He’s scheduled hearings on compliance with water safety laws. Don’t know that it’ll do any good.”
“Hearings are a start,” replied Pajiin.
From what Dekkard gathered from the rest of the meal, Pajiin’s only purpose for asking Dekkard to join him and Andros was to get Andros and Dekkard together. If there was another agenda, that would come later.
Once Dekkard returned to the floor, the votes on amendments to the Security section of the proposed appropriations continued.
To his surprise, one amendment called for a substantial funding increase for the River Patrol, a separate agency originally under the former Security Ministry but now part of the new Ministry of Public Safety. Their mission involved patrolling the Rio Doro to halt smuggling and undesirables from illegally crossing the river between Atacama and Guldor.
The rationale for the amendment was that the combination of Guldor’s unseasonably cold and wet autumn and Atacama’s brutally hot and dry summer would increase smuggling and the numbers of “undesirable” people fleeing Atacama. Dekkard didn’t pretend to understand all the dynamics or economics of smuggling across the southern border, but if more smugglers and people fled Atacama, then the River Patrol would likely need additional resources. The amendment passed with fifty votes.
Most of the other amendments were Commercer attempts to increase Public Safety funding in ways designed to preserve the previous structure. All those were defeated. Even so, by fifth bell, with another five Public Safety amendments to go, when Obreduur recessed the Council until fourth bell on Unadi morning, Dekkard felt exhausted, but since it was Quindi, he needed to sign the responses prepared by his staff.
He was about to leave the chamber when Obreduur motioned to him.
Dekkard immediately joined the Premier on the dais.
“I got your message,” said Obreduur. “Do you know anything else?”
“No, sir. It just struck me as odd, and that the Special Agents might be up to something. I thought you should know.”
“Thank you. I’ll contact Minister Kuta and see what she knows.” Obreduur offered a tired smile. “Have a good endday, Steffan.”
“You, too, sir.”
Dekkard turned and headed out of the chamber. Even going through responses or attending services was preferable to more votes. At least he thought it would be, provided that Jaime Minz hadn’t returned to Machtarn.