by Samuel Fort
Chapter 24: The Ribbon of Many Colors
The two woman sat on the sofa in the positions Thal had established for Fiela’s lessons. The mentor sat upright on one side, her feet on the floor. Fiela sat sideways, her back against the arm of the sofa, her clasped hands in her lap, her legs stretched out before her, and her bare feet atop a small pillow in Thal’s lap, the tiny, ubiquitous feather dangling from one ankle.
Thal said, “Don’t worry. This isn’t a pop quiz. You’ve done very well lately, Fiela.”
“Thanks,” said her student, breathing a little easier. She had, in fact, been studying her ass off for the past week, anxious to avoid the repercussions of being unprepared when tested each evening. She was mortified by how easily Thal could break down her defenses with the slightest touch of a stupid feather. She was humiliated by the sense of powerlessness she felt as she laughed herself into near delirium, kicking and screaming, and yet obediently returning for more.
Thal did not gloat, however. She had been very fair, rarely penalizing her student for getting an answer wrong if she sensed Fiela had made a sincere effort to learn the assigned material. Nevertheless, Fiela stared at the feather as if it was a loaded gun.
“I believe you’ll enjoy our lesson tonight.”
“Is it poetry?” the girl asked hopefully. She excelled at all forms of poetry.
“No. It is a mental exercise.”
Oh. “What type of mental exercise?”
“A thought experiment. I’ll describe a dilemma that you must resolve. It will help prepare you for your role as queen. Making difficult decisions is what kings and queens do on a daily basis.”
“There is no right or wrong answer?” asked Fiela, warming to the concept.
“Just so.”
Fiela smiled. This was her kind of quiz. “Okay.”
“There is a Nisirtu parable known as ‘The Ribbon of Many Colors.’ It is a scribes’ parable. I’ve made a few changes to make it more relevant, but the essential elements remain the same. Ready?” she asked, gently tapping the top of one of the girl’s feet.
“Yes,” said Fiela immediately. Her focus became laser-sharp.
Thal began. “King Sargon, Lilitu’s father, was faced with many difficult decisions. Sometimes he shared his burden with the Great Sage, who was his counsel. A few decades ago, before you were born, the Fifth Kingdom was plagued by a serial killer. He killed both Nisirtu and Ardoon. The slave killings would have been overlooked, of course. The killings of the Nisirtu were unacceptable. The victims were primarily young women, as is often the case. With each body the killer left a magnificent strip of ribbon woven of threads of many colors.”
“Why?” asked Fiela.
Thal shrugged. “No one knew. The ribbons were obviously the killer’s calling card. As to why he chose these ribbons in particular? It is a mystery.”
“How many killings were there?”
“Forty-three. They were gruesome,” said Thal, her voice an octave lower. “Our profiling experts were very certain that the killer would continue killing until he was stopped. This might have meant dozens more deaths, or even hundreds.”
“Did you catch him?”
“I’m getting to that,” Thal said, lowering an index finger to trace the patterns on the pillow in her lap.
Fiela saw the subtle gesture. “Sorry, I didn’t intend to interrupt. Go on.”
The woman looked at her and said, “Very well. Our kingdom did catch a man. But he was only a suspect.”
“What happened?”
“As luck would have it, the man was a noble in another powerful House and his many supporters protested that he must be innocent. He was, they said, a victim of circumstance. It proved to be a very delicate matter, politically. The debates went on for months, and King Sargon grew restless.”
“Were there other murders while the suspect was held?”
“No. But the accused man’s allies said that was because the true killer was wise and wished for the suspect to be found guilty and executed.”
“So...what happened?”
“At length, King Sargon summoned your uncle Ridley to the throne room. The king was alone except for the accused man, who was chained to marble column and gagged. In the middle of the room was a table, upon which sat an hourglass and a small mechanical device which Ridley had not seen before. The king told him that the device could be used to compare DNA samples. Hairs had been found at the sites of several of the murders that must be those of the killer, for the women were completely unassociated with one another, and the presence of these hairs could not be a coincidence.”
Fiela said, “Oh. Problem solved, then.”
Thal shook her head. “No. This was decades ago. Such technology was in its most primitive form, even for Nisirtu. The device was imperfect and could only offer rudimentary comparisons. It rarely made a one hundred percent match when given any two samples, even if the samples were known to have come from the same person.”
“But the Ardoon had much more accurate machines.”
“No, this was long before that. We gifted them our technology eventually, of course, as required by the scripts.”
“Oh.”
“The king told Ridley that the Council of Ten had decided to leave the disposition of the accused in the sage’s hands, he being considered the wisest of the sages of all the kingdoms. The king said that Ridley’s decision would be final and unchallenged. If he were to wrongly convict an innocent man, none would blame him, and if he were to let a killer go free, he would be similarly blameless.”
Fiela dared a shrug. “That was very fair. It must have been a relief to uncle that he would not be held responsible for his decision, right or wrong.”
Thal again shook her head. “It wasn’t that easy, Fiela. You see, there were other stipulations. Because the accused man came from such a powerful House, an odd form of double jeopardy was instituted. If Ridley found the accused man innocent, and that man was later found to be the killer, the accused would remain free to ply his hideous trade, unhindered.”
Fiela frowned. “You mean, if uncle found the man innocent, and he was later proven to be the killer, he was going to be allowed to continue killing?”
“Exactly. In that way, Ridley’s finding was to be absolute. I remind you that our profilers were certain that the killer would continue killing, forever, which meant that if Ridley let the killer go free, he was effectively signing the death warrants of an untold number of individuals.”
The girl stared at her mentor, horrified. “That was not fair! Even if uncle was considered blameless, he would carry the guilt with him forever if he made the wrong choice!”
“There was nothing Ridley could do. He was the king’s vassal, and the king had spoken.”
Fiela’s frown deepened. Shifting her eyes right, she said, “What was the purpose of the hour glass?”
“Ah yes, that. Though called an hourglass, the sands would run from top to bottom in only ten minutes. Ridley was to make his decision within that ten minutes, because the king was to sign a treaty with the accused killer’s kingdom that very day, and that treaty could not be signed until a verdict had been rendered. Despite the protests of his subjects, the suspect’s monarch did not really care whether the man was executed or set free. He simply wanted the matter laid to rest. Our king was of the same mind.
“Ridley obediently placed two hairs in the DNA device, one from the man chained to the column, and another that was found at the site of one of the murders. Within seconds, a digital meter that was integral to the device came to life. It read, ‘50%’, which was to say, there was a 50% possibility that the two hairs came from the same individual. But that was merely the starting point.
“The testing now commenced, the king stepped down from his throne and flipped the hourglass, and that the sands began to run from top to bottom. ‘Ten minutes,’ he said, looking at your uncle. ‘I want your answer in ten minutes.’ Even as he spoke, the glowing red numbers on the
device flickered, and read 60%, and a minute later, 70%, and then a minute later, 79%...”
Thal looked at Fiela and saw the girl was absolutely mesmerized by the tale. Mesmerized and horrified. Good.
“Soon,” she said, “so very soon, the sands were almost gone from the top cone. At that point, the device read 92%, but then it dropped, to 91%, and then to 85%, and then 77%.”
Thal stopped talking. Seconds passed.
“What happened?” demanded Fiela, unable to endure the tension.
“The last grain of sand finally dropped. The king said, ‘What is your decision, Great Sage? Is this man innocent, or guilty? Shall we kill him here and now, or set him loose, forever? Silence implies guilt.’ The device read 48% at that moment.”
Thal looked at the young queen. “Tell me, Fiela, what would you have done? What would have been your verdict?”
The girl looked away, not liking the question. “48%? The odds were he was not the killer, then.”
“That would be one interpretation, yes.”
Fiela paused. “Did this man have a family?”
“Oh yes. A wife and a child. He was their only provider and protector.”
“What was the child? A boy or girl?”
“Does it matter?”
Fiela frowned. “How old were the children?”
“Again, does it matter? What bearing does that have on the man’s guilt?”
Fiela began chewing on a nail. “I don’t know. I just…it is very hard. I do not think I could make a verdict without more information.”
Thal said, “Time prohibits that. Ridley had only ten minutes. He had no other information. I remind you that not pronouncing a verdict is a verdict in itself. The man would be executed if Ridley did not pronounce him innocent.” Thal paused. “What if the machine read 100%? Would you find him guilty?”
“Definitely.”
“0%?”
“Of course not.”
“What is the right percentage, Fiela?”
Fiela squirmed, struggling with the question for a long time before saying. “It is a ridiculous question. How am I to know? Anyway, what’s done is done. What matters is what uncle did.”
She tensed, willing herself not to look at the little feather, knowing that Thal could compel a more decisive answer. She readied a lie.
Thal didn’t push her, however. The woman merely allowed unhappy smile. “Yes, that is what matters. What’s done is done.” Her eyes shifted and fixed on an invisible, distant point.
“Thal!” exclaimed Fiela. “Don’t do this to me! What happened?”
“What happened was this,” the woman said softly, still gazing at that distant point. “A month later, the killings began again. The many-colored and beautiful ribbons returned. The murder of innocents continued for many years.”
“What was uncle’s verdict, though? Did he make the right one?”
Her mentor regained her focus, looked at the girl, and shook her head as if to dismiss the question. “How would I know, Fiela? I told you this was but a parable. Was there a right answer? How could it be achieved? What would you have done? These are the questions you should ponder.”
Fiela gave Thal a suspicious look. “This is only a parable? Truly?”
Thal pulled from her emotional reserves and managed a laugh. “Yes, of course. There’s not an iota of truth to any of it. You say many things are unfair, Fiela, and you are sometimes right. Contemplate this parable, however. Perhaps we shall discuss it again in the future.”
