Master of the Revels

by Nicole Galland

  Your very assured friend and dearest sister, with the remembrance of my humble duty unto you, I humbly take my leave and rest,

  Your sister, Emilia

  AFTER ACTION REPORT

  DOER: Chira Yasin Lajani

  THEATER: CLASSIFIED

  OPERATION: CLASSIFIED

  DEDE: CLASSIFIED

  DTAP: 4 March 1397, Ascella, Commune of Florence

  STRAND: 9

  I encountered an unexpected obstacle on this Strand.

  As per usual, I arrived at the house of KCW Lucia late at night, borrowed clothing from her, and made my way by moonlight to the estate outside Florence, where I as usual overheard the couple, Matteo and Agnola, discussing their plans to hire out Dana as a wet nurse. As before, I went into the stable and found Dana and told her the escape plan. She was terrified but also willing to go with me.

  Most of what has worked before continued to work this time, but there was one very unfortunate difference. Dana bathed in the fountain as before, managing not to cry out despite the cold; once I got her down unharmed, and we were almost safely away at the end of the garden as before, Piero came into the garden as before, and as we ran over the shifting gravel, I picked up a stone to throw.

  But the footing is always unstable there, and this time I stumbled as I threw the stone. With a sinking feeling, I watched it over my shoulder and saw it land a mere twenty feet behind us, smashing against the fountain’s basin . . . so it did not distract, if anything it drew attention toward us. The captors’ eyes had not adjusted to the darkness, but the moon was bright and they would be able to see in a few moments. I grabbed Dana by the arm and pulled her down with me into a crouch behind the lion statue. We were so very close to the end of the garden, but before us was the most exposed stretch, covered with the noisy little stones.

  If they found Dana all alone, apparently fleeing by her own efforts, they would be furious and beat her. But they would not kill or damage her, as that would sabotage their own plans for her. However, if they found me with her, the situation became more complicated, and my abbreviated prep for this DEDE had not prepared me for such contingencies. There was a nontrivial chance of my making blunders with far-reaching consequences. So I concluded that I’d have to disappear if they came near. I could not risk them even wondering if there was another person involved in her flight, for then they would know it was a conspiracy, and she would be under even tighter scrutiny if I returned to try again later on this same Strand.

  One of the men called out, “Who’s there?” and began to cross the garden toward us in the moonlight, carrying a lantern.

  I whispered urgently to Dana, “Stay here and let yourself be taken back to the stable. I will come for you later, I promise.” This was hard to say, because I had no idea if I could honor the promise.

  Without a terrified girl to help along, and knowing the layout of the garden well after so many Strands, I was able to dash around behind the lion statue, slink through another segment of the garden, and then down the hill past the astrological statues and all the way to Lucia’s, to be Homed.

  I request that I return immediately to a different Strand on that DTAP and attempt to use the knowledge I have gained—particularly the manner in which the stone must be thrown—to get this DEDE back on track. If there is to be any delay in my being Sent, for bureaucratic reasons, etc., I request that every moment of that time be spent in more intensive prep, so that I know better what to do if this happens again.

  Text messages from burner phone to Mortimer Shore

  DAY 2015 (3 FEBRUARY, YEAR 6)

  Hello, Mortimer, attached are screenshots that I took of the DEDE report I have just submitted to DODO.

  All of that is a lie. What I reported did not happen.

  I followed the directive you recently passed on to me, NOT to free the slave. In reality, I was Sent to the DTAP and remained at KCW Lucia’s. I told KCW Lucia that I was researching fauna of the region for an herbal compendium to be published in the Levant. I now know an excessive amount about the laurel leaf (if Rebecca is interested?). When enough hours had passed that I could have realistically accomplished my DEDE, I thanked her for her time, and she Homed me. I invented the story in the DEDE report to make it appear I am still attempting to accomplish my mission for DODO.

  You must understand what an awful thing you are asking me to do. It will be bad enough for me, to fail at the DEDE. Blevins will chastise me, then discipline me, and then I am afraid he will threaten my siblings’ status. But that is nothing compared to what will happen to Dana if we leave her enslaved to those monsters. Already I’m having nightmares about her.

  So I must ask: How can we know for certain that this is required? That I must not free her? I agree it is strange how this DEDE is being treated by Roger Blevins etc., but even if that means that Gráinne is behind it, we cannot KNOW that it is related to the nonexistence of Leonardo da Vinci in another DTAP. I believe in what Tristan is doing, and I will endeavor to do what he directs, but to leave Dana to such a fate (and also: risk my own family’s legal status!) because it MIGHT have one specific consequence generations later—I cannot live with that. I think it is wrong.

  Is there not some other way that we can play this? Perhaps I free her, and then we can Send somebody to see what happens to Dana. Even if your theory is correct, and she is an ancestress of Leonardo—perhaps she conceived a child by choice, not by rape, later in her life. I hope you all will reconsider your instructions to me. Is Tristan around? Perhaps he would be willing to speak to me directly about this?

  Post by Dr. Roger Blevins to Chira Yasin Lajani, DOer Lover Class, on private ODIN channel

  DAY 2016 (4 FEBRUARY, YEAR 6)

  Chira:

  Your actions on the most recent strand of your DEDE would be grounds for immediate probation, if not dismissal, were this not such an exceptional case. Not only did you abandon your DEDE before you had done everything possible to effect it, but by presenting yourself to the slave girl Dana, you have endangered not only her but all possible other DOers who might attempt to parachute in to fix your mess. Your unprofessional behavior has risked the well-being of this mission and lives impacted by it.

  Because of the sensitive nature of this DEDE, I will confer with relevant parties regarding the most appropriate way to discipline you and redirect your efforts for the next Strand. In the meantime, you are on paid suspension of duties. Do not leave town, and keep your phone with you at all times. Under the circumstances I advise your brother and sister to do likewise.

  —Dr. Roger Blevins

  Journal Entry of

  Rebecca East-Oda

  FEBRUARY 4

  Temperature today 25F, cloudy but dry, no breeze. Barometer rising. Turned the compost out back, in a feeble effort to pretend I’ll ever garden again. Same story every year. Excessive heat a concern in guest bedroom; have asked Mortimer to relocate his computer stuff to attic. He’s concerned about the potential for a zero-day exploit in the router while he’s offline; on the other hand, he recognizes what a fire hazard he’s created.

  Frank has been gone almost a month and I am stymied in all attempts to find him. Thank God Mel anticipated me and ran intervention when (temporarily, but still unforgivably) I contemplated luring my offspring here and then Sending one of them to 1450 in search of him. I’m horrified at myself. Mel is no doubt entertaining similar obsessive strategies about Tristan, which perhaps keeps her kindly toward me. She did not confront me, so neither did I confront her when I learned she’d warned Mei against coming.

  Of much greater urgency, and the real reason I opened this to write: horrible event regarding Erzsébet today, so awful that I cannot bring myself to include it on GRIMNIR, even on my personal channel. I will write of it only here, privately. This could undo us.

  Chira sent us her falsified DEDE report, the cover story to explain why she failed to free the slave girl Dana. Chira is very upset about the instruction that she not free the slave. I understand her
position.

  Mel, as proxy for what she believes Tristan would order, is insistent that Chira continue to “fail”—i.e., leave the girl enslaved—on the grounds that if this DEDE is a scheme of Gráinne’s, then it absolutely must be stopped, no matter whether or not we can definitively know the outcome of it.

  I understand her position too. And so does Mortimer. But Erzsébet cannot.

  I was making split-pea soup, and was in the process of trimming the ham off the ham bone and shooing the impolite cats off the table. Erzsébet, lacking any kind of distraction (she had offered to make corn bread but got bored when she realized it required specific measurements), flew into a rage such as I have rarely seen from her. Was afraid she might smash the china, she was that physically agitated.

  “Where is Tristan Lyons?” she demanded, and flounced out of the kitchen before I could remind her Tristan isn’t here. “Tristan Lyons!” she yelled furiously, as she stomped up the front staircase, causing the picture frames to bounce against the walls. I started after her, but then I imagined Frank putting a gentle hand on my arm. I could almost hear his advice:

  What will you accomplish? he would ask. She’ll be calmer if she is allowed to storm around for a bit. You’ll be calmer if you return to cooking. Then when she has calmed down, you can feed her soup, and everyone will be happy.

  She doesn’t like this recipe, I would say, and he would answer, Then that gives her something to complain about, which will make her even happier.

  I forced myself to focus on pulling the meat from the bone as I listened to Erzsébet storming around the second floor, shouting Tristan’s name. There was a pause after her steps entered the bathroom—possibly she was admiring her own rage in the mirror—before she continued stomping. A moment later she stormed back downstairs into the front hall. I heard her emit a growl of irritation, then she flung open the door to the cellar and tromped down there.

  A moment later, her voice erupted into my hearing again. Mortimer’s voice responded. It seems he had been patching something in the ODEC and was headed back upstairs; he was continuing to carry out this plan despite the petite Hungarian excoriating him.

  “We are here to do good in the world!” she huffed, as they arrived back up in the front hall. “To prevent evil! I turned my back on Gráinne and her very understandable desire to protect magic, only because I believed that you were better people than she was.”

  “And you totally made the right choice,” said Mortimer. “I hope you—”

  “This is not good!” said Erzsébet. “Good people do not do this! DODO has sent Chira on a humanitarian mission and you are all telling Chira not to carry out the mission!”

  “C’mon now, Erzsébet, you know it wasn’t really a humanitari—”

  “To leave this poor child in bondage of execrable men who treat her like she is livestock. You cannot plead ignorance, you know what they are doing to her. If Gráinne wants to save her and you do not, how are you better than Gráinne? This is sickening.”

  Mortimer, looking unhappy, came into the kitchen wiping his oil-smudged hands on a dishrag that had somehow migrated downstairs. “Really sorry, Rebecca, I think that’s a permanent stain,” he said as he laid it beside the sink.

  “Listen to me!” demanded Erzsébet, at his elbow. She is a full foot shorter than he is. “Answer my question or I shall never do magic for any of you again!”

  The only people who can manage Erzsébet when she gets like this are Mel, who mothers her, or Tristan, who out-alphas her. Mortimer looked capable of neither, and although I am a poor substitute myself, I realized I’d better step in. I asked politely, “What is your question, exactly?”

  She turned her flashing eyes on me. “How are any of you better than Gráinne, when you want to leave this poor child to a fate worse than death?”

  “We don’t win by doing what we wish to,” I said. “We win by doing what we must.”

  “And why must you do this?” demanded Erzsébet. “You have no proof that you must. You are all monsters!”

  “And you are a hypocrite,” I said uncomfortably. Erzsébet blinked in surprise. So did Mortimer. “We have all been meddling with people’s fate for the past five years, Erzsébet. And as I heard tell, it began with your deciding to Send General Schneider back in time to his death, for absolutely no reason.”

  “No reason! Pah! He was going to put a stop to your work!” Erzsébet shot back. “You should—”

  “And now Gráinne is trying to put a stop to our work,” I said.

  “Then kill Gráinne,” said Erzsébet. “If you really think it is a parallel situation, Tristan should just get rid of her.”

  “Gráinne beat him to the punch,” said Mortimer quietly. “So, yeah, okay, maybe it’s time to take her out. All right, we’ll add obliterating Gráinne to the to-do list.”

  “Or make the other choice,” she said. “Let Gráinne have her way.”

  Mortimer frowned. “What?”

  “Nobody has convinced me that a technical devolution is a bad thing,” she said. “I am not on your crusade. I am simply friendly and helpful to you because I know Gráinne is dangerous. But I have never pretended to agree that technology must be preserved no matter the cost. In fact I believe almost everything that is wrong with the world right now is due to technology, and I do not care one bit if Gráinne gets her way, as long as she does not hurt my friends. But if my friends behave like monsters, then I don’t care about them anymore either.”

  Mortimer held up his hands in a frazzled that’s that gesture and walked out of the kitchen.

  I turned to the large bag of peppercorns I had brought out of the pantry, to refill the pepper grinder—I use the same one I have had for decades, a slender brass canister with a hand crank on the top. I reached for it, to undo the top for refilling, but Erzsébet grabbed it, brandishing it, and said, “So that means the madness must stop! And I am the one to put an end to it!” She ran out of the kitchen.

  “Erzsébet!” I called, following her. “Erzsébet, don’t go down there—”

  For she had dashed straight for the door in the front hallway that led down to the cellar. Down to our one precious, prohibitively-expensive-to-rebuild ODEC.

  “Stop!” I cried out, possibly more loudly than I have ever cried out anything in my life, childbirth excepted. I moved toward her to try to stop her, although I have an arthritic knee and I cannot negotiate the stairs quickly.

  Mortimer had gone into Frank’s study upon exiting the kitchen, but now rushed back into the corridor. He saw me by the door to the cellar, gestured me away, and practically leapt through it.

  The next few minutes were a terrible cacophony that began with the two of them toppling down the stairs together. “What are you thinking?” was one of Mortimer’s few coherent statements.

  “This is lófasz!” came Erzsébet’s voice up the stairs. She continued to holler, and the intensity of her tone wavered, as if she were intermittently struggling. “You must all stop meddling! You manipulated my fate for the greater good, as you call it, but if you had not done that, if you had left things well enough alone to unfold as they would, Gráinne would not now be in the twenty-first century trying to hurt you! The more you meddle, the more you create opportunities for worse meddling! So stop meddling! You cannot expect her to stop when you yourselves have no intention of stopping! So I must stop you!”

  And now came a series of grunts from Mortimer, and a shriek from Erzsébet, and the sound of the pepper grinder, having been hurled across the basement, bashing into something that collapsed easily and noisily (the jury-rigged shower stall). The sounds might have been the audio track of a David Attenborough documentary about rabid carnivores in a feeding frenzy. I was afraid they would knock down a load-bearing column. I imagined Frank staring down with me. We have an excellent first-aid kit, he would say reassuringly. And also good homeowner’s insurance. But maybe we should add a lock to this door to keep her from going down there on her own.

  The
shouting stopped suddenly, as did the sounds of struggle. Very softly, almost too low to be heard, I could just make out Mortimer’s voice. I cannot imagine what he said to her, but Erzsébet made no further noises of complaint.

  “The soup will be ready in twenty minutes,” I called down the stairs, not knowing what else to say. I went back into the kitchen, wishing Frank were here.

  Mortimer and Erzsébet eventually appeared upstairs. She was as white as cold ashes and clenching her jaw. He handed me the pepper mill. “Might be dented,” he said.

  “It’s survived worse,” I said, and took it from him.

  “I might put a lock on that door.”

  “You will put a lock on that door,” I corrected.

  Erzsébet has refused to eat or even drink anything all evening.

  EXCERPT OF TRANSCRIPT OF

  CHIRA YASIN LAJANI DEBRIEFING SESSION

  CONDUCTED BY DR. ROGER BLEVINS AND GRÁINNE

  DAY 2017 (5 FEBRUARY, YEAR 6)

  GRÁINNE: Why did you not go right back to try again?

  CHIRA YASIN LAJANI: They caught Dana in the act of escaping, ma’am. Obviously they would place her under guard, probably in the house.

  GRÁINNE: Is yourself not capable of figuring out how to spring her anyhow?

  CHIRA YASIN LAJANI: I do not have such skill sets, ma’am. I am Lover class and secondarily Closer class. I’m not a Tracker or a MacGyver. And as I said in my report, my prep did not adequately cover—

  DR. ROGER BLEVINS: Are you implying incompetence on the part of—

  GRÁINNE: Never mind that, let it go. What I’m asking is: I’ve seen your personnel file. You survived hell and back, getting your family out of Syria, so you can clearly be accomplishing whatever you set out to do. That’s why ’tis suspicious you gave up so easily here.

  CHIRA YASIN LAJANI: By what metrics did I “give up,” ma’am? I evaluated the circumstances and then took actions that I deemed appropriate. The driver of the wagon couldn’t wait around for a second attempt—and also, there was the danger that he would be found lurking near the house while Dana was trying to run away. That would make him a thief, endanger him, and further complicate the situation. The likelihood that I would be able to find Dana, free her, and get her to the meeting point in time was so low that it made most sense to come back here and try again on another Strand.