On-Grid
The Wardian
“You’re going to like this, Bentamin!” Marlin kelbiMyst predicted as she entered his office.
Bentamin chastaMeir, Warden of Civilization, looked at her over the top of his screen. Marlin was the Wardian’s chief qe’andra, and it was rare enough to see her in his office at all, much less actually bustling.
“You’re in spirits,” he observed. “Will you have tea? Cookies? Wine will take a little longer, but if your news is startling enough to bring you down here to me, I think I might contrive.”
She waved a dismissive hand, coming around to the side of his desk and flopping into the chair there.
“I was going to send a memo,” she said. “But then I knew I had to see your face when you heard. It’s not worthy of wine.” She laughed, and waved her hand again. “Perhaps after all’s set to rights.”
“Worse and worse,” he said, closing his screen and spinning the chair to face her.
“Tell me.”
“I have received a petition from Qe’andra termaVarst, representing the kezlBlythe Family, in particular Luzant Zandir kezlBlythe, even now heroically suffering a wrongful imprisonment in the belly of the Wardian.”
Bentamin snorted, then frowned.
“Wrongful? Luzant kezlBlythe was apprehended by no one less than the Chair of the Council of the Civilized, while in the act of Influencing With Intent To Gain.”
Marlin raised a finger, and shook it at him.
“That is a self-serving and inaccurate description of events put forward by an overreaching government.”
Bentamin raised his eyebrows.
“Qe’andra termaVarst, I take it, has an objective and accurate version of what happened?”
“Indeed. Qe’andra termaVarst informs us that his client, Zandir kezlBlythe, an upstanding and prominent member of Civilization, was not done the honor of being put under restraint by an equal, but was forced to suffer the indignity of—and possible contamination from—a Haosa’s barbarous touch upon her person and her Talent. Said barbarian being in violation of the law that forbids Haosa to be on Colemenoport.”
There was such a law, as Bentamin knew well, however—
“Councilor gorminAstir requested the Haosa’s assistance in the matter, which conforms to Invitation Right,” he pointed out. “The honorable qe’andra, and his influential client, are wasting your time.”
“Yes,” Marlin agreed, wilting slightly in the chair. “Yes, they are, because the damned thing will have to be answered, with statute and precedent. I’ll put one of the ’prentices on it. But I thought you would be diverted by the quality of the straws being grasped for.”
Bentamin rose and crossed the room to pour two cups of tea. He opened the drawer, took out the tin of Entilly’s special cookies and carried it all back to the desk.
Marlin took her cup with a tip of her head.
“Not even a smile for the desperation of the kezlBlythe?”
“Well,” Bentamin said apologetically, “it is the kezlBlythe. While I can understand that wasting your time with nonsense might be a goal, I can’t think it’s their only goal. So I wonder what else they mean to accomplish.”
“There’s that,” Marlin said, reaching into the tin for a cookie iced in yellow.
Bentamin sipped his tea, and chose a cookie with violet icing.
“While you’re here,” he said, “may I ask if there’s been any progress on locating Pel’s files?”
Marlin sighed, as well she might. Pel chastaMeir had been a brilliant and tenacious investigator. And he had died under the wheels of a train during his investigation of the kezlBlythe Syndicate. That he had kept files—meticulous files—was not in doubt. The problem was finding them.
“The last report I have from Neeoni, just this afternoon, is that Pel’s records are—dense. His partner, Qe’andra urbinGrant, knows that he kept deep files, and she knows he had extensive material on the kezlBlythe. Sadly, he did not share those files with her.
“Pel’s assistant Osha, who has been working with Neeoni, does not have access to the deepest files, but believes there must be a key to them in the so-called second-tier files. They’re searching, but—it’s slow work.”
“Yes, of course. Please tell Qe’andra Neeoni, and Osha, that I appreciate their efforts and ingenuity.”
“I’ll do that.”
Marlin drank off the last of her tea and put the cup on the desk.
“I heard this morning from Forensics that the examination of those identified by the trade team’s qe’andra has found some cases of possible Influence, but nothing yet to identify the actor.” She sighed. “Who seems to have been very careful, indeed.”
“Unlike Zandir kezlBlythe.”
“Zandir kezlBlythe,” Marlin said, with asperity, “has always believed that she was the cleverest person in the room.”
Bentamin laughed. “Now, there’s an indictment!”
“Was I too strong?” Marlin asked, with thoroughly bogus innocence. She stood. “Thank you for seeing me, Bentamin.”
“Thank you for coming. I only wish it wasn’t the kezlBlythe.”
Marlin laughed, and turned toward the door.
“Now, Warden, I know you’re shamming me! You’ve been after the kezlBlythe for years—you and Pel, both.”
“And only see what happened to Pel,” Bentamin said gloomily, walking with her.
He caught the edge of her concern, and the sharp glance she sent him.
“Good-night, Bentamin. Be careful.”
“Good-night, Marlin. And you.”
He closed the door and leaned against it, staring fixedly at nothing.
The kezlBlythe did nothing without a reason. Were they going to attempt to topple Invitation Right?
He huffed a laugh.
Toppling the whole of Civilization was not too much, if it returned to Zandir kezlBlythe the means to do harm. Also, now that he thought of it, Marlin hadn’t mentioned Jorey kezlBlythe, also held in the Wardian on two charges of violent assault with intent to murder. Had the petition excluded him, as well?
If so, then it looked as if the kezlBlythe were washing their hands of a liability, kin be damned. And wasn’t that true to form?