“But…” Dekkard broke off his words.
“But what?”
“Then how did Engaard himself find out this morning?” asked Dekkard.
“The Security patrollers contacted him. He’s always the emergency contact. He insisted on that. Construction projects have to list emergency contacts with the nearest patrol station.”
“If the specifications being used are wrong,” said Dekkard, “then the construction manager in Siincleer is involved.”
“Why would the construction manager sabotage his own project?” asked Emrelda.
“Who else?” asked Dekkard. “It can’t be Halaard Engaard. Why would he do something that could destroy everything he’s built? Even if he wanted to blame Markell, that wouldn’t work, because too many people know that the engineer in charge reports directly to him.”
“But why?” asked Emrelda again.
“Either for a load of marks or because he was blackmailed in some fashion,” replied Ysella. “The next question is why someone would risk bribing or blackmailing.”
“For marks and control,” said Dekkard. “It’s almost certainly someone at Siincleer Engineering, but it will have been done through several intermediaries, and I doubt we’d be able to trace them. Engaard underbid them, I’d wager. Markell didn’t quite say that—”
“That’s right,” declared Emrelda. “Markell said that Halaard was so pleased to have gotten the bid away from both Haasan and Siincleer Engineering…” Emrelda’s voice trailed off. “They wouldn’t … they wouldn’t … just for a single bid?”
Not for a single bid. But Dekkard let Ysella speak to her sister, especially since he needed to turn onto Camelia Avenue.
“We don’t know if Markell is missing,” said Ysella, “or if he’s trying to stay out of sight until Engaard gets to Siincleer so that Markell can tell him what’s happened.”
That’s very unlikely … but still possible. Dekkard concentrated on driving, especially since he was nearing Imperial University, where there might be another demonstration.
“You haven’t said anything, Steffan,” said Emrelda.
“Avraal’s laid out the possibilities. We don’t know which is more possible. The one thing that is likely is that Siincleer Engineering is behind it. What Engaard has been doing has cut into their business, and the big corporacions don’t like competition, especially from smaller competitors who are more effective or those that threaten their control of an area.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” said Emrelda. “Engaard Engineering isn’t that big.”
“It isn’t that big … yet,” replied Ysella. “It’s already big enough to take large contracts and do them better.”
“It’s also more vulnerable now than it would be later,” pointed out Dekkard.
“That’s despicable!” said Emrelda.
“Some Commercers are. We’ve seen that before,” said Ysella.
“Can Councilor Obreduur help?”
“No one we know could get to Siincleer and do much today,” said Ysella, “except possibly Halaard Engaard himself, and he’s already on his way. We’ll let the councilor know. Sometimes he can help—”
“I know. He can’t help now. No one can. I hate feeling helpless,” snapped Emrelda.
Dekkard kept driving, not knowing what he could say that would make Emrelda feel better without being transparently false or inane.
“We’re here,” said Ysella gently. “We’ll do what we can.”
“I know.” Emrelda sighed. “I just want to get to the house in case there’s a message.”
“They have to try again,” said Ysella, “and leave a note saying when. But you’re right. It would be better if you’re there.”
“Much better.”
When Dekkard finally eased the teal Gresynt up the drive at Emrelda’s house he didn’t see a messenger flag, but he let Emrelda and Ysella out so they could check while he turned the steamer and backed it into the garage. Then he shut down the steamer and checked the tanks before closing the garage door. When he entered the house through the portico door and glanced to Ysella, she shook her head.
“Did Markell leave any notes or any information?” Dekkard asked Emrelda.
“No. He sometimes brought papers and renderings here to study, but he never left anything here. That was something Sr. Engaard insisted on. No company papers were to be left unattended at homes or anywhere except at headquarters.”
Dekkard couldn’t help but feel that Engaard’s tight controls and lean and direct management style were working against the corporacion and especially against Markell. You never thought that sometimes bureaucracy could be a benefit.
For the rest of the day, Dekkard did whatever he could, while being as quietly cheerful as possible and joining in the conversation where appropriate. He did volunteer to wash and dry the dishes from the afternoon meal, and the sisters gladly let him do that, although Dekkard had the feeling that Emrelda was slightly surprised at the offer.
By sixth bell on Findi afternoon, it was more than clear that Emrelda wasn’t going to receive any messages until Unadi, since the commercial heliographs shut down at sunset, and so did their delivery messengers.
“You should come back to Obreduur’s with us,” said Ysella.
Emrelda shook her head. “I’ll drive you back. I need to be here. Besides, I’m on duty tomorrow. That’s just as well. I’d just sit and worry.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Dekkard glanced at Ysella, who nodded.
None of the three spoke much on the return drive, and Dekkard sat in back, happy to leave the disjunct bits of conversation to the two sisters, as he tried to figure out what he and Ysella might be able to do … and feeling rather helpless because he didn’t see much that they could, at least not with what they knew—and didn’t know.
When Emrelda stopped the Gresynt before the pedestrian gate, Ysella turned to her. “Are you sure—”
“There’s nothing you can do. All we can do is wait. You know how I feel about waiting.” Emrelda’s voice contained both iron and despair.
“Promise to let us know if there’s anything…”
“I promise.”
“And if you learn anything,” added Dekkard.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”
After Emrelda’s teal Gresynt disappeared on its way toward Imperial Boulevard, Ysella turned to Dekkard. “What do you think? Honestly?”
“I’m afraid Markell’s dead, and I think it’s likely that Halaard Engaard is … or will be very soon. The irregularities that Markell discovered will be uncovered, and the blame will be laid upon him.” He paused and looked at her. “What do you think?”
“I hope it’s better. I fear it won’t be.” Ysella shook her head.
“When do we tell Obreduur?”
“Now. He’ll sense something’s wrong, and he might come to the wrong conclusion.”
The two walked toward the pedestrian gate, through it, up the drive, and into the house.
Obreduur, unsurprisingly, was in his study. He looked at Ysella and then Dekkard. “Neither one of you looks pleased. Is it a disaster or a difficulty?”
“A difficulty that has the possibility of being at least a personal disaster,” replied Dekkard. “I think Avraal should tell you.”
“My sister’s husband is missing after discovering certain problems with a naval construction project…” Ysella outlined the situation, ending with, “We’re not asking you to do anything. Right now, I don’t know anything you could do, but I might need some time off if this goes badly.”
Obreduur nodded slowly. “You can certainly have all the time you need. Would you mind if I told Carlos Baartol? He might have some ideas … or know someone who does.”
“Anything that you think would be helpful,” replied Ysella.
“I’m not certain how much immediate help he could provide, but it can’t hurt. He also might be able to find information that mi
ght be useful.”
“So long as it won’t hurt Markell,” said Ysella.
“I’ll make that very clear to him.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied Ysella.
“Is there anything else you can think of?” asked Obreduur, looking from Ysella to Dekkard, then back to the empath.
“Not at the moment,” said Ysella.
Dekkard shook his head.
“Then I’ll see you in the morning.” Obreduur paused, then added, “I’d like to say something reassuring, but this kind of event often doesn’t turn out well. We can only hope that Sr. Engaard is careful and resourceful.”
Ysella frowned. “You said ‘this kind of event.’ That suggests you’re aware of others.”
“I’ve heard rumors and secondhand reports of such. They’re almost always hushed up because there’s never any hard evidence, and without it, nothing ever comes of it. That’s why, if you or your sister come across anything like that, you shouldn’t let anyone know and you should bring it to me … or to someone who has proven that you could safely entrust your life to.”
Dekkard almost shivered at the cold feel of truth in Obreduur’s words.
Ysella nodded, then said, “Thank you again.”
Neither she nor Dekkard spoke until they were alone in the staff room.
“This is even worse than I thought,” she said quietly.
Dekkard nodded.
“You don’t look that surprised.”
“I’ve been concerned ever since we helped Emrelda take those instruments to Markell. I wish we’d known what Markell told Emrelda sooner.”
“I thought the same thing.”
Dekkard shook his head. “I doubt that I’d have believed all this a year ago, even five months ago, and I don’t think most people in Guldor still would.” Just like they don’t understand why the Great Charter was set up as it was or how the Commercers are undermining it. “The New Meritorists see it, but their solution is even worse than the problem.”
“Don’t say that too publicly.”
“I know. But I don’t have to like the fact that even saying that the New Meritorists understand a problem is regarded as treasonous. Or that the Commercers don’t understand that their actions are why support for the New Meritorists will only grow.”
“I need to think,” Ysella said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Until tomorrow, then.”
Dekkard waited until she reached the top of the back staircase before he headed up to his own room.
43
DEKKARD woke early on Unadi morning. The first thing he did after dressing and hurrying down to the staff room was to immediately read through Gestirn, looking for a story about Engaard Engineering and a missing engineer. There was nothing. The only story of interest was the one about the sewage backup in the eastern part of the administrative center of Machtarn.
Not even a hint about the New Meritorists. Dekkard had to wonder whether they’d have to storm the Imperial Palace with signs proclaiming who they were before the newssheets would name them. Just how long can Security keep them effectively unknown and anonymous?
He looked up to see Ysella staring at him. “There’s nothing in the newssheet.”
“There won’t be—if there’s anything—until the afternoon edition.”
“The only thing about the sewage backup is that it was caused by illegal dumping of industrial underwater cement.”
“Did you expect anything else?” Ysella’s tone was more sardonic than he’d heard before.
“Not really.” He offered the newssheet, but she shook her head, and moved to pour her café before sitting down. He replaced the newssheet on the side table, then poured his own café and sat across from her.
Neither spoke much at breakfast, nor on the drive to the Council Office Building. Obreduur didn’t offer any conversation, either. As Dekkard pulled up in front of the building, it seemed to him that there were somewhat fewer Council Guards. There was still an extra guard patrolling the covered parking, but the man gave Dekkard a quick look and continued his rounds.
When Dekkard reached the office, there was a small stack of petitions and letters waiting for him, and Ysella was already sorting through her stack. Dekkard settled down to work, but, before long, he couldn’t help noticing the flurry of Council messengers, far more than usual.
Sometime after fourth bell, Obreduur opened his office door and said, “Avraal, Steffan, I’ll be having lunch with Councilors Mardosh and Hasheem. You can eat at the staff cafeteria and then wait outside the councilors’ dining room before escorting me to the floor.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once Obreduur closed his door, Dekkard looked to Ysella, who looked back and nodded.
Dekkard doubted it was coincidence that the three councilors were meeting, since Hasheem was on the Security Committee and Mardosh was on Military Affairs and his district encompassed Siincleer. Whether the meeting would help Markell was another question. That the three were meeting suggested that Obreduur felt the matter was more than the disappearance of a young senior engineer.
Since worrying wasn’t going to help Markell, Ysella, or Emrelda, Dekkard forced himself back to the necessary but tedious task of drafting replies, until Obreduur stepped out of the inner office at a third before noon, when he and Ysella then escorted the councilor from the office and out into the summer heat of Machtarn, a heat slightly lessened by the fine spray from the courtyard fountains and the shadow cast by the covered portico that led to the Council Hall.
The heat reminded Dekkard that he and Ysella were going to have hotter times to come, since the occasional sea winds kept the capital cooler in summer than the inland areas where they were headed. Both of them kept their eyes and senses moving as they entered the moderately crowded main corridor of the Council Hall until Obreduur entered the councilors’ dining room, where Hasheem stood waiting just inside the entry.
“It’s going to be crowded at the staff cafeteria,” said Dekkard.
“We’ll find a place somewhere,” replied Ysella.
The two had about reached the archway into the staff cafeteria when a tall ursine figure moved toward them.
“Here comes Jaime Minz,” murmured Ysella, “and it looks like he’s pleased to see us, but not in the nicest of ways.”
“Avraal … Steffan … imagine seeing you two here, but where else would I see you? You’re both so dedicated to your duties.”
“We don’t see you that often,” replied Dekkard pleasantly. “It appears that you’re even busier now that your councilor is Premier.”
“Not too busy to have a word with fellow security professionals. Not at all. Even when it gets busy … or even a bit … rancid.”
“Rancid?” asked Ysella, apparently guilelessly.
“You know, the difficulty with the sewers? Very rancid. Disgusting, really. Can you imagine anyone blocking the sewers and thinking it would reflect badly on the Council?”
“It would seem odd,” said Dekkard agreeably.
“But then, I’m sure you both know that, seeing as your councilor has worked on Sanitation matters before, and even made some recommendations to Minister Sanoffre … oh, and Minister Wyath.” Minz smiled cheerfully.
“The councilor offered a suggestion to deal with Sanitation workers in Machtarn,” said Dekkard. “He said that Minister Sanoffre was most helpful, but then, everyone will benefit from the results, even it had nothing to do with sewers.”
“Oh … don’t be so modest. Everyone knows you both do more than security, even if security is just another form of cleaning up.”
Ysella smiled brightly. “You would certainly know, especially given all your experiences with the Premier. Far more experience than either of us would claim.”
“I knew you’d understand.” Minz smiled broadly. “If I don’t see you before recess, enjoy the hinterlands.” He nodded pleasantly and then moved on.
Ysella waited a moment, then said, “I’m just as glad I can�
��t sense what lies beneath that superficial cheer and good-naturedness. I suspect it’s very deep and dark.”
“Most likely,” agreed Dekkard. “It also sounds like Ulrich asked all the ministries what Obreduur has brought before them lately. Or do they report that to the Premier already?”
“They have for years, particularly about Craft and Landor councilors.”
Two years earlier, even a year earlier, that might have surprised Dekkard. “We’d better get something to eat and look for a table. You lead the way.”
Dekkard settled for a pork empanada along with cumin-pepper rice and white beans, while Ysella took a green salad topped with grilled chicken and a vinaigrette dressing.
As he’d predicted, there seemed to be no free tables in the cafeteria, and he just followed Ysella.
Then a dark-haired woman in security grays gestured from ahead of them. “Avraal, Steffan … you can sit with us.”
Dekkard recognized her immediately—Sumra Velle, the empath for Councilor Safaell. Sitting with her was Emile Fharkon, Safaell’s isolate.
When they neared the table, Ysella said, “Thank you so much. We expected crowded, but not this crowded.”
“Premier Ulrich will address the Council. Some think he might say something about the explosions and the sewer mess,” said Fharkon. “If he does, it won’t be much. It never is.”
“Has anything from that come before the Justiciary Committee?” asked Ysella.
Velle shook her head. “Not that the councilor has said. Explosions may be crimes, but the committee doesn’t get oversight until after a conviction—that’s if Security doesn’t object.” She paused, then asked, “You heard about Arthal, I take it?”
“That he was offered a position in Sudaen, at the Commerce Banque there?”
“He’s already gone. Poor Erleen. Doing Councilor Hasheem’s security by herself right now … with the demonstrations and that New Meritorist empie assassinating Councilor Aashtaan. How did you two take her down?”
“I didn’t,” said Ysella. “Steffan did.”
“After Avraal slowed her down,” added Dekkard.
“I wouldn’t have wanted to be there,” said Velle. “Arthal said she was the strongest empath he’d ever faced.”
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