by Mark Eller
"True, but we'll keep an eye out for strangers anyway," Jorrin said in a deep rumbling voice. "I'll miss you, lad. I've never had a friend like you before. Never--."
His voice cracked. After struggling to speak for a moment, Jorrin gave up. Instead, his huge arms reached out and swept Aaron into a hug. Aaron hugged Jorrin back.
Jorrin pushed him away. "Goodbye, lad."
Kit tenderly touched the corner of Aaron's mouth, tracing the bruised-looking impression of Heralda's lips with a fingertip. "It looks like somebody got here before me. Goodbye, Aaron."
Her kiss was gentle and sad. It was their first kiss since just after Aaron killed Haarod Beech. It was their last.
Aaron stepped back and looked at them, aching to tell Kit and Jorrin he loved them as two of his dearest friends.
But that would only make it worse.
Pulling a small bag containing one pound of silver from his pocket, he tossed it on a nearby work bench and looked to Kit. "The silver I promised you."
"Aaron I--." she began, but Aaron shook his head.
"Let's just say goodbye," he said, and then decided to hell with it. He would be honest now or never again. "I love you. I love you both."
Flicker
Chapter 25
"Mister Turner has problems with things like this." Amanda said to the irate woman sitting across from her.
"I don't care what problems he has with who or what," Mistress Gilcrest replied. "I'm telling you now that I don't like the situation in the least. We've been responsible for his safety since accepting this job, but our acceptance places certain restrictions on his movements. Also--."
"Miss Bivins?" Heidi interrupted.
"Hold on a moment." Patience, Amanda reminded herself.
"This isn't the type of thing we hired on for. Mister Turner has--."
"Miss Bivins. This is important. You really need to--."
"Young lady, you are interrupting," Gilcrest snapped. "I'm trying to hold a conversation with--."
Amanda blew. "WILL YOU PEOPLE SHUT UP!"
Sudden silence filled her office. Two mouths hung halfway open, and the look of astonished disbelief on Heidi's face was almost enough to set Amanda to giggling.
"Be quiet for a moment," she ordered. "Just one moment."
Heidi looked apologetic. "Sorry. I don't have a choice." She ducked back into the front room. The door didn't swing shut behind her, but instead swung further open.
Two figures waited on the other side of the door.
Amanda sighed. "I suppose Miss O'Malley didn't have a choice. Good morning Sergeant Crowley, Lieutenant Larns. What can I help you with today?"
Miss Larns held up a piece of paper that looked like an arrest warrant.
My, my, Amanda reflected, but the practice of simple business law has taken some strange twists lately. She wondered if her parents suspected Amanda's profession would place her in prison one day.
"You can return the property that you and Mister Turner and several parties who are yet unnamed stole from the university two days ago," Lieutenant Larns said sternly. "I have a warrant for the arrest of you and Mister Turner. I have several warrants waiting for other names once you give them to me. Now then, are these two part of your crime, or are you also duping them?"
Amanda spared a glance for Mistress Gilcrest and Mister Hortbert. If she had ever seen two guilty people looking more innocent, she could not say when.
"Is it quiet in prison?" Amanda asked.
"Reasonably," Crowley said. "There can be some acoustically challenging moments during a riot or the occasional murder, but as a general rule, it's as quiet as a church."
"Your church or mine?" Amanda asked facetiously. He opened his mouth to answer, and she immediately foresaw that this could wind up in a long-winded dialog she did not have the energy or desire to pursue. She rose from her chair. "Never mind. I'll give Miss O'Malley some last instructions, and then I'll go along with you."
She walked past them, not waiting for the IFBIS officers to escort her out of her own office. The tired look they gave each other said they had seen her ploy ten thousand times before, but she did not care. They were in the business of arresting people. She, however, was not in the habit of being arrested. She insisted on doing her part of this business with quiet style.
"Miss?" Heidi asked, pale faced but determined. She was also being kept company by two very properly dressed women whose demeanor shouted Agency.
"Miss O'Malley, since I endeavor to never be a fool, and since only a fool represents herself, I need a good criminal lawyer. Once you see to that detail, take care of the office as best you see fit. If it is permitted, bring some of the paperwork to me."
"I wanted to speak to you on that," Heidi said. "I already found you a lawyer. Several, actually. You said you needed to expand so I put out some feelers."
"Can we get on with the arrest?" one of Amanda's babysitters asked. "I got a birthday party to prepare for. My kid turned five today."
"Anyway," Heidi said with a glare for the interrupter, "I've been told of three people who are tired of going it alone and one who wants a change of venue. The first three specialize in corporate law, but the other one is a criminal lawyer who wants to get out of the courtroom. He's willing to train in corporate law if you're willing to give him time for the learning.
"He can train all he wants," Amanda said, "just as long as he first gets these charges against me dropped."
The impatient IFBIS officer headed for the door on her own, pulling Amanda with her.
"One more item," Amanda called over her shoulder. "Give yourself another raise."
"I already did," Heidi tossed back. "Starting yesterday."
* * *
Amanda discovered a certain feeling occurred when standing behind a barred door as it swung shut. Strangely, she found the experience comforting. The worst thing that could happen already had.
"I'm very disappointed in you," Crowley said from his side of the bars.
"But I am guilty of nothing," Amanda assured him. "Why should you be disappointed?"
"Because," he answered in a mock firm voice, "you never gave me the list I asked for. We've mostly been squatting on our heels while trying to figure out who has a reason to be after Mister Turner. Me and Lieutenant Larns, we were almost ready to give up when this thing showed. Now we're all excited again. I bet you can't guess whose names are on the complaint against you. I'll give you one hint. They're not connected to the university other than being alumni and contributors who went into politics."
Amanda sighed. "I'm not surprised. Nothing seems to be straight forward anymore."
"Not in my experience" Crowley agreed. "Time to get official. This is where I ask you where Mister Turner is. I also ask you who your accomplices are and where I can find them. Your part is to answer my questions so as to make me happy."
He waited expectantly. When no answer came, he puckered his brow. "Come on. You'll tell me eventually. It might as well be now."
"As to your first question," she answered calmly, "I do not know where Mister Turner is. He has been out of town for the last several weeks. As to your second, I have many accomplices. They run errands for me, chase down information, and do preliminary paperwork. However, despite your beliefs to the contrary, I have no accomplices who are involved in illegal activities." She allowed a bright, ingenious smile to cross her face. "That kind of behavior can get a person arrested."
"You have to admit you were at the university day before yesterday."
"But I have to admit nothing," Amanda said. "I haven't seen my lawyer yet, and so I don't even need to have this talk with you. However, I will state that I seldom have a need to go to the university except to view certain materials my client has placed, on loan and under stringent conditions, into its keeping. Nothing else within its premises concerns me."
"You're going to make this difficult, aren't you?"
Amanda looked around pointedly. Every wall she saw bore bars. Even the back
wall had barred windows. "Our conversation is over until my representation arrives."
Crowley exhaled heavily. "It isn't that I'm just after you, you know. I want to keep you and Mister Turner alive. Somebody out there has a grudge against both of you."
Amanda stared at him, putting all the weight of her conviction behind it. "You know who the main suspects are. Look to the names on the complaint against me. You said as much earlier."
"I say a lot of things, Miss Bivins. If you examine my statements, you might find that a few have more than one meaning."
"So do mine, Mister Crowley. So do mine."
* * *
A lot of good could be said about prison life. Amanda ate a private meal in her cell and took a half-hour nap. Sometime around noon she was awakened by a series of clangings and murmuring voices. Cracking open her eyes, she saw that she had a roommate as well as new company in the cells on either side and across the aisle. From the conversations she overheard, the prisoners had been out on a work detail that was voluntary but universally desired. She supposed that was to be expected. She wasn't having a difficult time being cooped up, but she had just started doing her time. Some of these people had been here for years.
"That's my bed."
Amanda opened her eyes, looked at her roommate, and laughed. She received a scowl in return.
"I don't see what's so funny. I had that bunk, and you took it."
The girl did not look a day over twelve, but she had to be older since the law drew a very distinct line between those who had reached their majority at fourteen and those who had not. Still, she didn't look fourteen. She was tall and skinny and had only the beginning signs of bumps on her chest.
"I'm sorry," Amanda said. "It's just that I never expected them to put me with someone so young."
The girl's eyes were indignant and angry. "Well, I can't help my looks any, and I'm a damn sight older than you think. Now get your ass off my bed."
"I want the lower bunk, so there are a couple or three ways we can go about this," Amanda said. "I can pay you to move to the top bunk. I can provide you with a lawyer for your defense, or I can give the issue up as lost and head for the top. What do you say?"
The girl's eyes, no longer angry, were suspicious. "What if I want something else?"
Her eyes, Amanda thought, were wrong. They were--not faded--but older than her age.
"Name it and I'll see what I can do."
"People want to take something from me. I have to wear it all the time, or it'll be lost forever."
Amanda suddenly understood. This woman looked young because her body thought it was young, but she was much older than she appeared. That spoke of a Talent Stone, and it was common knowledge that if a bonded Stone was removed from its owner for long enough, the Stone would crumble to dust and become useless.
She swung up into a sitting position since that was much more respectful to her cellmate. "How much time are we looking at?"
"Less than a week." The woman whispered.
"I might be able to do something about it," Amanda said. "I practice business law, but I am a lawyer, and a specialist in criminal law is coming in here soon. From what I recall, the end result of a review depends entirely upon what your Talent is. The law won't allow you to keep a Talent Stone if that possession allows you to be dangerous or gives you a better opportunity to escape prison."
The woman was definitely guarded now. "I don't know what you're talking about." Her eyes shifted toward the cells to either side. The prisoners in those cells appeared to be sleeping, but Amanda got the point. This woman's Talent Stone gave her certain advantages over those around her. If the other prisoners found out, she could be in for some serious trouble.
Amanda quirked her left eyebrow and waited.
"I know when someone's lying," the woman whispered. "I swear that's the only Talent I have."
"I wouldn't mind having that Talent," Amanda whispered back. "As a lawyer, it would come in handy."
The woman shook her head. "Except everyone always lies. Even when they think they're telling the truth, part of them is lying. I've sometimes thought my Talent wasn't knowing when someone lied; it was being able to know when someone was separating the larger lies from the smaller ones."
"Isn't that the same thing as knowing when they lie?" Amanda asked.
"Not entirely."
"Company," a voice called from the front bars.
Sargent Crowley stood there, Lieutenant Larns at his side. They were accompanied by a middle-aged male.
"Your lawyer is here, and it's time we had a more through conversation," Crowley said. "There's no point in lying about your part in this. We have witnesses."
"Those aren't regular N'Ark Guard," Amanda's cellmate said. "Those are IFBIS uniforms if I've ever seen one. I don't know if I want to be near the trouble you're in."
"I'll see what I can do for you," Amanda promised, wondering how this woman knew enough to distinguish IFBIS uniforms. After all, IFBIS was a fairly new organization, barely over a year old. "My name is Amanda Bivins."
"Celine," she replied. "That's the only name I have. Never had parents to give me another."
* * *
Matters did not proceed well. From Amanda's point of view that was all to the good. She was taken to a not-so-very small room where she was met by the smiling faces of her three favorite Liberal Party Assemblypeople and three others. Amanda recognized the other three instantly. One had his arm in a cast. He looked somewhat beat up and more than unhappy. The women standing with him were two of the other university guards who had watched over Aaron's books. Amanda was glad to see that the scholar who had been involved in the transfer of the books to the university was not there. She might be able to place some doubts in the minds of these three. The scholar knew her and Aaron too well for her words to make him question his own eyes. Knowing this, and knowing that any further access to Aaron's books depended on Aaron's favor, he had probably made himself scarce. Most likely, he had taken the missing guards with him.
"That's her," the broken-armed man said.
"Looks a bit like her," one woman added. "Can't be though. The woman I'm thinking of had a gash across her temple, and her face was already purple bruised when I last saw her. I don't care how good the woman's doctor is, nobody can heal up so fast that there isn't even a bruise or a scar after the abuse her head went through. Not after only a couple days. You have the wrong person."
"I have to agree," the third witness said. "There's some similarity in her build, but the woman we saw was hurt, and this one isn't."
Miss Sporlain appeared incensed. Her face became so livid that Amanda thought she would pop a vein.
"Of course, it was her!" she snapped. "Who else could it be? She and Turner stole them, and I want them back!"
Amanda's lawyer cleared his throat. To this point he had not said one word, not even to Amanda. "I believe it is time that we are told exactly what is missing. I have no problem with you pressing charges against my client if you have specifics, but several serious legal issues are involved when she is charged with a theft while we have not been told what she supposedly stole."
"She knows what they stole." Sporlain almost shouted. Assemblywoman Andrews made calming motions that Sporlain completely ignored. "I want them back!"
"If she is guilty, she certainly does know what has been stolen," her lawyer said, "and I am sure you know exactly what is missing. However, her advocate and the court that may wind up trying her do not."
Amanda felt like humming. Sporlain and crew were in a difficult position. The missing books were essentially a state secret they were sworn not to talk about.
"They were books," Sporlain finally admitted. "She and Mister Turner stole books belonging to the government."
"Ohhh! So that is what this is about." Amanda tried to sound as ingenious as possible. She knew she fooled no one, but her words were what mattered, not belief in them. "Are you talking about the books Mister Turner loaned to the university?"<
br />
"Those were not his books to loan," Sporlain insisted.
Larns suddenly looked very interested in this conversation. Crowley began humming a little tune, and if Amanda had not known better, she would have sworn her lawyer had feathers between his teeth. Andrews and Harrison looked nervous, and the three witnesses seemed to be wishing they were someplace else.
"I know you want to claim them," Amanda said. "After all, you had us in front of the closed assembly on the matter, and then there was the time you held a private meeting with me--you know--the one where you asked me to delude Mister Turner into signing ownership of the books over to somebody. I think, correct me if I am wrong here, I think you said they represented too much potential money and power to leave under Mister Turner's control."
Andrews looked like she would choke.
"Who was at that meeting?" Amanda asked herself musingly. She tapped the end of her chin thoughtfully with her finger. "Oh yes, I remember. All three of you assemblypeople were there, and so was that other nice man. I think his name was Chatham. In fact, if I remember correctly, you wanted ownership of the books to be handed over to him. Funny thing, I heard that he was murdered a few days later." She turned to Larns. "Did we not talk about this once? I am sure we did."
"We did," Larns said. She looked--pleased. "So, we have now figured out that books are missing, but there seems to be some disagreement as to who owns the books. We also have no proof that Miss Bivins was there when they were taken since one witness says she was and two others say she was not."
"Please do not forget Miss Bivins' non-existing injury," Amanda's lawyer interjected.
"I won't forget," Larns told him. "Is there any documentation proving ownership of those books?"
"No!" Sporlain snapped. "How can you prove who owns a book?" Her face started to turn white. "Lieutenant, I am an assemblywoman. You will press charges against this woman, and you will find out what she did with my books, or I will see your career in the dust."
