Isolate

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “Haasan Decaro.”

  “The Machineworkers guildmeister?”

  “And the man who wants to and might be the next Craft candidate for councilor from Gaarlak. That is, unless Johan Lamarr decides to run. He could gather more party support, but he’s said nothing.”

  That made sense to Dekkard, given that there were usually more Crafters Guild members than members of specialized guilds. “Thank you.”

  Dekkard found himself seated not only with Seigryn on his left, but with Johan Lamarr on his right. No sooner had they been seated, and a server began to pour café, than Lamarr said, “Jens said you came from a long line of artisans. How did you end up in politics?”

  “My father is a plaster artisan, and so was his father. My mother is a portraitist, as is my older sister. It became clear at an early age that the talent didn’t lie in my hands. So, when a chance to go to the Institute arose, I took it—”

  “You won one of the regional grant positions?”

  Dekkard hadn’t ever liked mentioning that, but he wasn’t about to lie. “I was fortunate enough to gain a position.”

  “How did you do at the Institute?” pressed Lamarr.

  “Well enough that the councilor interviewed me.”

  “Steffan is being unduly modest,” interjected Seigryn. “He was one of the Triumphing Ten in his graduating class and was the top of his security training after graduation.”

  “But you do more than security, obviously,” said Lamarr. “What sort of issues have you worked on?”

  “The most recent issues involving crafters were the dispute between the Woodcrafters of Oersynt and Guldoran Ironway and tariffs on imported artworks.”

  “I heard that the Guldoran Ironway dispute was settled. How did the Woodcrafters fare?”

  “They were opposed to using yellow cedar because it was unhealthy. The councilor worked out a compromise that led to Guldoran using cherry for carriage paneling.”

  “What about the tariffs?”

  “We’re still working on that.” Before Lamarr could raise another question, Dekkard asked, “What is the matter of most concern to crafters and artisans here in Gaarlak, one that the Council could address or that it has failed to address?”

  “You didn’t say how you were working on the tariffs,” said Lamarr.

  “No, I didn’t,” returned Dekkard amiably. “The councilor has made it clear that we say nothing in detail until we have resolved any matter or we have been unable to resolve the issue. This came up less than a month ago, and since it involves both law and workplace discretion, it will take a little longer.”

  “In short,” said Seigryn in a light tone, “he’s not about to promise anything until it’s settled. He never has.”

  “In the meantime,” added Dekkard, “knowing about other concerns might help the councilor.”

  “How?” asked Lamarr. “Gaarlak’s not in his district.”

  “If we know that an issue affects other districts as well, it’s easier to get the ministry involved to address it, or to get other councilors to get involved, if not both. The fine-art tariff practices, for example, could affect artisans not only in Malek, but in Machtarn, Siincleer, Ondeliew, Uldwyrk, Port Reale, and Neewyrk. Possibly even Gaarlak.”

  “How might that be?”

  “If tariffs on imported artistic items, such as porcelain, metalwork, and the like, are too low, then people will buy the cheaper imports. That means artisans everywhere are affected. If they’re too high, then there’s a greater profit in smuggling, and that hurts both government and artisans. That’s why I asked you about possible problems. It’s helpful for us to know those things. The councilor himself has pointed out more than once that because he’s only one person we need to find out as much as we can as well and let him know.”

  Lamarr’s laugh was sardonic. “I’ve never even seen any of Councilor Raathan’s aides. For that matter, I’ve never met him. We asked several years ago, but he never answered repeated requests.”

  “The guild had a problem, and no one even contacted you?”

  “That’s not unheard of here,” said Seigryn dryly.

  “What was the problem?” asked Dekkard.

  “The way the Undstyn Pottery manufactory glazed their earthenware. The older method used a cupric frit, which gave the fired work a greenish tinge, but they started to add lead to the frit to make the glaze shinier. They claim that the firing process sealed the lead away. Maybe it did, but the glaziers were getting sick. They still are. The only people who will work as glaziers are those who have no other way of living … or who don’t know any better.”

  “What happened?”

  “The guild petitioned for a return to non-lead frits. The district council ordered a hearing before the local workplace administrator. He issued a finding that the manufactory just had to improve the lead-handling processes. We appealed. The Justiciary declared that the guild could not require a corporacion to change an entire manufacturing process because workers failed to follow proper procedures.”

  “So they changed some procedures, but there’s still too much lead in the workplace, and it takes longer for workers to get sick, and the corporacion claims it’s the workers’ own fault?” asked Dekkard.

  “That’s about it,” replied Lamarr. “Lead gets everywhere. If you’re handling it at all, you can’t get rid of it. Leastwise, not with the equipment we have.”

  “I hadn’t heard about that. In a way, though, it’s very much like the problem with the woodcrafters at Guldoran Ironway. That’s why I’d also wager that there are similar problems with work safety standards in other kinds of manufactories.”

  “The Council should do more.”

  While Dekkard agreed, he only said, “It’s something I’ll definitely mention to the councilor. Is there anything else the councilor should know?”

  “The gross-receipts tax needs revising. Corporacions get to deduct what they pay workers as a cost. Small crafters can’t deduct the costs of family members who work for them. Doesn’t seem fair when you think about it…”

  Dekkard kept listening for the next bell, seldom needing even to prompt Lamarr. He did manage to eat two croissants, with some sort of apricot preserves, which were better than guava slices, but inferior, in his opinion, to quince paste. He also drank three mugs of café.

  At close to the third morning bell, Seigryn stood up and said, “I did promise all of you that we wouldn’t push you beyond third bell, and there’s about a sixth before that happens.”

  Rather than sitting down, Seigryn stepped away from the table, and Lamarr again turned to Dekkard. “You’re Steffan Dekkard … did I get that right?”

  “That’s right. I have to say I’ve appreciated what you had to say, and I definitely learned things we don’t hear in Machtarn.”

  “It was good talking to you, Steffan. I’d hope that you might get to Gaarlak occasionally, because I’ll never get Councilor Raathan’s ear. Leastwise, you listen.”

  “If you think we can help, write the councilor. I can’t promise what he’ll do, but he does listen, and he tries to help. I can say absolutely that he’ll read what you write and respond.”

  “You’re cautious, aren’t you?” For the first time, Lamarr smiled, an amused expression.

  Dekkard managed a grin in return. “I learned early what I can promise from him … and what he has to decide. I can suggest, but he decides.”

  Lamarr pushed back his chair, but did not rise. “Does he take your suggestions?”

  “Sometimes. Many times, he has a better idea, and I try to learn from that.”

  Lamarr nodded, then stood, as did several others.

  Dekkard quickly got to his feet.

  “A pleasure meeting you, Steffan. Enjoy Gaarlak, as you can.”

  “Thank you.” Dekkard nodded in return, then turned toward Ysella, who stood talking to the comparatively light-skinned Jon Eliver, whose complexion was even lighter than Dekkard’s, although that was to be expected for
a farmworker, even a farmworker deputy guildmeister. Dekkard, and indeed most people hailing from Argental, was slightly lighter-skinned than the average Guldoran, except for agricultural workers and, of course, beetles, both of which groups had skin and complexions even lighter in shade, possibly because lighter skin shades reflected more sunlight and thus tended to be better suited to outdoor work and activities.

  “If you would pardon me…”

  Dekkard turned to find Gretna Haarl, the assistant guildmeister of the Textile Millworkers, standing there. He smiled at the almost frail-looking woman, who had to be a good fifteen years older than he was. “Is there anything I can help you with … or you would like to know?”

  “Why did you let Avraal Ysella precede you? She’s senior to you, isn’t she?”

  “She is indeed. When she ordered me to follow, I obeyed.”

  Haarl paused for a moment. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “This is the first trip like this that I’ve made with the councilor. I have a good idea of what I don’t know, and Avraal knows much more than I do about meetings.”

  “Why didn’t you insist?”

  “Because I trust her judgment. She’s told me when she thinks I’m wrong or when I need to look further.” And she’s saved my career and possibly my life.

  “How will things get better if women always have to defer to younger men?”

  “She doesn’t defer to me, but she is polite when she thinks I’m wrong. You’d have to ask her for her answer, but mine is that nothing will change until the Craft Party controls government, and if deferring slightly to patriarchal feelings in Gaarlak or anywhere else helps elect more councilors for the Craft Party, then a little deferral might just be worth it.” Dekkard saw Ysella watching, but not moving toward them, and her body posture told him he was definitely on his own.

  “Women have deferred for centuries. Where has that gotten us?” Haarl’s voice was low and even, but cold.

  “I never said all deferral was good. I said that if a small deferral to expected custom helped the greater cause, it might be worth it.”

  “Small deferrals add up.”

  “They do, but I suggested I should precede her, and she was the one to decide the order. It wouldn’t have happened that way if she hadn’t insisted.”

  Haarl abruptly motioned to Ysella. “Avraal. If you’d join us.” Her words weren’t a request.

  Ysella smiled pleasantly as she stepped forward, but before she could speak, Haarl did. “Steffan said you told him to follow you, even though you’re senior.”

  “I’ve been with the councilor longer, but we both have the same job description. I’ve been led to believe that both Guildmeister Decaro and Guildmeister Lamarr are rather traditional in their outlook—”

  “Compared to what they are, you’re being complimentary.” Despite the venom in her words, Haarl kept her voice low.

  “That may be,” agreed Ysella pleasantly, “but I preferred not to start out by putting Steffan in a junior position or by giving them offense even before we met.”

  “You would put political positioning first?”

  “Being political when it doesn’t cost much generally gets better results,” said Ysella, her tone polite and pleasant.

  Dekkard noticed Jens Seigryn easing toward them, while Obreduur talked with Lamarr and Eliver, and Ingrella was conversing with Arleena Desenns of the Weavers Guild.

  “If we don’t change things at the bottom, nothing changes at the top,” countered Haarl.

  “The Silent Revolution changed a great deal from the top,” Ysella pointed out, “even if it took pressure from women empaths.”

  “They didn’t push far enough or hard enough,” returned Haarl, turning abruptly to Seigryn and saying, “Not a word from you, Jens.” Then she strode from the small dining room.

  “Might I ask…?” said Seigryn.

  “I chose to go first into the dining room,” said Ysella. “Assistant Guildmeister Haarl took offense at that choice because I’ve been with the councilor longer, although we have the same job description.”

  Seigryn nodded slowly. “Gretna feels very strongly about certain matters, even when not emphasizing them is to the party’s benefit. I’ll talk to her and to Guildmeister Maatsuyt about the situation.” Then he smiled. “From what I saw and heard you both did well in answering questions and representing the councilor.”

  After Haarl’s almost murmured but intense outburst, Dekkard had his doubts. He also had a question. “What does Lamarr do, besides being guildmeister? Or what did he do? He seems knowledgeable about a great deal.”

  “He and his family are clock- and watchmakers.”

  Dekkard immediately felt incredibly stupid. “I never connected him … Lamarr & Sons?” The Lamarr watches weren’t flashy, but were considered one of the more reliable timepieces, and in fact, that was what Dekkard’s father had.

  “The same. He’s very modest.” Seigryn smiled. “And don’t worry about Gretna. We’ll take care of it. Guildmeister Maatsuyt understands about her.”

  “Has there been a problem with women feeling put down?” asked Dekkard.

  For a moment, Seigryn didn’t meet Dekkard’s eyes. Then he said, “There has been. All the guilds here in Gaarlak have been working to change that. Gretna wants change overnight, even in the next bell. That’s not possible.”

  “That was why she was appointed assistant guildmeister?” asked Ysella.

  “One reason,” admitted Seigryn.

  Ysella just nodded.

  “Things have been difficult, then?” asked Dekkard, thinking about Haarl’s placement at the table, between Seigryn and Ingrella Obreduur. “And you hoped that Ingrella Obreduur, as a legalist, might be able to mention legal and practical reasons for proceeding with care?”

  “That was my hope.” Seigryn shook his head. “Gretna wasn’t pleased with what Ingrella told her, although Ritten Obreduur was exceedingly courteous and patient.”

  “Does she have a large following within the guild?” asked Dekkard.

  “Not an excessively large one, but a significant and devoted group of women.” Seigryn paused, as if he was considering what to say or how to phrase it, before going on. “Some of them have very strong views.”

  Dekkard had a sudden thought. “Perhaps about making councilors personally accountable for the improvement of women’s positions in society?”

  “I’m sure that few of them would go that far,” replied Seigryn.

  “That’s very good,” said Ysella. “Thank you so much for setting this up so that we had a chance to hear what they all had to say. I’m certain it took a great deal of work on your part.”

  “I’d like to add my thanks,” said Dekkard. “I especially appreciated hearing what Guildmeister Lamarr had to say.”

  At that point, Obreduur finished his conversations with Lamarr and Eliver, who left the room separately, and moved toward Dekkard, Ysella, and Seigryn. “Is everything set for what’s next on the agenda, Jens?”

  “It is. The Kharlan steamer is waiting outside for a brief tour of the city, with a few stops along the way.”

  “Excellent.” Obreduur looked to his wife. “Shall we go?”

  Ingrella nodded.

  Dekkard let the others move on, hoping that Ysella would stay back with him, which she did. Then he asked quietly, “Was the assistant guildmeister as angry as she seemed?”

  “Most likely. I couldn’t tell, though. She’s also an isolate.”

  “And she’s not in security of some sort? Most isolates are … unless they’re artisans.”

  “She may not even know she’s an isolate. Or didn’t until there was no point in training her. She’s not built for physical security, and the other jobs in security require an education. How did you find out you were an isolate?”

  “The same way almost all children do. In school. I was tested by a visiting empath.”

  Ysella offered an amused smile. “That doesn’t happen in most schools
until children are around ten. Farmworker children don’t usually stay in school that long. Neither do the children of most millworkers, especially the girls. At ten or eleven, they’re taking care of younger children so that their mothers can work.”

  “Naralta took care of me some, but she still finished an education.” Dekkard saw that Obreduur, Ingrella, and Seigryn were heading for the front entrance of the Ritter’s Inn.

  “You come from a family of educated artisans. Many people don’t.”

  “And, among other things, that’s where the…” Dekkard paused for a moment, realizing that they were in a very public place, although the inn’s lobby contained only a handful of people, before he continued with slightly different wording than he’d first thought, “the unnamed demonstrators get their empaths.”

  “Most, I’d judge,” replied Ysella, before smiling wryly. “Although there might be a few disaffected Landor women.” She slipped a translucent gray headscarf from the small purse she carried and eased it into place. Then, as she and Dekkard neared the front doors of the inn, she added, “We can talk later about that.”

  “We should.” Ahead of them, Dekkard noticed that Ingrella Obreduur had also donned a headscarf matching her ensemble.

  Outside, Seigryn was opening the doors of the large open and older Kharlan touring steamer that stood waiting. Dekkard had a feeling that the “brief” tour would be anything but.

  62

  THE “brief” tour of Gaarlak not only lasted the remainder of the morning but stretched into midafternoon. Dekkard was glad the touring steamer had three rows of wide seats, with the driver and Seigryn up front, Gustoff, Ysella, and Dekkard in the middle, and the Obreduurs and Nellara in the rear seats.

  Dekkard saw the center square, which held an imposing marble statue of Laureous the Great, not surprisingly, since most cities in southern Guldor had similar monuments; the banking quarter, where the façades of the three- and four-story buildings looked worn and grimy; the slate-roofed Grand Trinitarian Chapel, constructed of granite transported some distance and dating back five hundred years; the grand houses of the North Quarter, although some of those had seen better days; the textile mills along the Lakaan River, most moderately well-kept but definitely aging; seemingly endless streets of tiny brick houses, their slate roofs a patchwork of various shades of gray; and, of course, more than a few milles of flax fields about ready to be harvested.