Isolate

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  One of the key leads in finding such terrorists is a book entitled MANIFESTO OF THE NEW MERITORISTS. Anyone who knows of someone possessing this volume is encouraged to report them to a Security agent, but not to a civic patroller. Civic patrollers are tasked with maintaining law in their localities, while Security agents deal with crimes against the Imperium …

  Being arrested and incarcerated for merely having a book? Dekkard winced as he lowered the newssheet. But you were the one who suggested that to Minz. Even so, he hadn’t expected that Security would arrest and incarcerate anyone who merely had the book.

  The other front-page story was about the passage of the supplemental-funding bill, quoting Premier Ulrich as saying, “It’s a good funding measure despite some Craft amendments that will make improving the ironways more difficult and cumbersome.” The story also highlighted the need for significant funding to rebuild Security buildings damaged or destroyed by the New Meritorists. It did not mention where the dunnite had come from, Dekkard noticed. He scanned the rest of the newssheet and replaced it on the table, then poured his café and took his croissants and some tomato jelly before sitting down.

  He didn’t start eating, but just sipped his café, listening for the sound of Avraal’s boots on the tiles of the back hall floor. When she stepped into the staff room in her grays he looked up and said, “I’ve always admired that even in security grays you look incredibly stylish.”

  For just an instant, she looked surprised. At least, Dekkard thought she did. Then she smiled warmly. “You know … I’ve always thought the same of you … but I never dared say it.”

  That stunned Dekkard, so much so that he didn’t know what to say.

  “I also love that about you, when you look surprised at a compliment, because I’ve never liked people who just accept compliments as their due, or ignore them.”

  There’s so much I love about you. But he only said, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate both the compliment and what else you said.”

  Avraal walked around the table, stopped just behind his chair, bent down, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Then she straightened. “I still need my café. The newssheet is the Tribune, isn’t it?”

  Dekkard managed to reply without too much of a delay. “It is.”

  “What’s in it? I hate reading it.” Avraal poured her café and seated herself across from Dekkard.

  “A story about how Wyath is arresting and incarcerating anyone found reading the New Meritorist manifesto and one where Ulrich said the supplemental was good legislation despite the Craft amendment that will hamper improving ironway maintenance.”

  “That shouldn’t surprise you.”

  “It didn’t. How did you sleep last night?”

  “I slept well, although I did have a dream about trying to throw a knife and not being able to draw it fast enough.”

  “You’ve only been at this for a month or so. You’re doing remarkably well. Much better than I did at first.”

  Avraal smiled. “It could be that I’ve had a better instructor.”

  “Well … at least one far more interested in your success.”

  Before Avraal could reply, Rhosali hurried into the staff room. “What sort of success?”

  “Knife-throwing,” replied Avraal.

  Rhosali shook her head. “All you two talk about is work … and that’s all you do.”

  “We’re just driven, boring security aides,” replied Dekkard mournfully.

  “Pfui!” replied the maid. “You’re not boring. Anyone who protects the councilor and has to kill people isn’t boring.”

  “You see right through us,” said Dekkard.

  Rhosali looked at Avraal. “What happened to him this morning?”

  “He read the Tribune.”

  “Still no Gestirn?”

  “There’s no word on how long Security will keep it shut down.”

  “There are times when I almost agree with those Meritorists,” replied Rhosali.

  “Do you think many people feel that way?”

  “About Security … the agents and the STF … lots of folks do.” The maid put a croissant on her plate. “Lots of folks.”

  After that, the conversation died away, and before all that long, Dekkard drove the Gresynt out of the garage and down to the portico, where he waited for Avraal and Obreduur.

  After driving onto Altarama, he waited for several blocks before asking, “Did you read the story in the Tribune about arresting people because of what books they had in their houses?”

  “Unfortunately,” replied Obreduur. “I thought even Wyath wouldn’t go that far, but he’s using some of the authorizations in the emergency legislation dealing with the New Meritorists in rather … creative ways. Ingrella’s already working on that, but fixing ill-thought law through the Justiciary takes forever. Now … if you’ll excuse me…”

  “Yes, sir.” Dekkard could tell that Obreduur was again writing something.

  As the Gresynt neared Council Avenue, Dekkard could see, several blocks ahead, that the Square of Heroes was filled with people, certainly hundreds if not even thousands. Another New Meritorist demonstration?

  Dekkard didn’t see any signs, and the New Meritorists had always carried them to demonstrations, but he couldn’t look for very long as he turned onto Council Avenue. “Sir, there appears to be a demonstration at the Square of Heroes.”

  “The idiots will get shot,” said Obreduur. “Ulrich and Wyath are looking for a way to show that they’re in control.”

  When Dekkard pulled up in front of the Council Office Building, the number of guards appeared to be the same as it had been for the last week, and, after he dropped off Avraal and the councilor, he again had to offer his passcard to guards three times before he got into the building and took the back stairs. What also hadn’t changed was that letters and petitions were waiting.

  “The Council won’t be in session today,” Avraal said.

  “Convenient for Ulrich. That way no councilor can ask embarrassing questions.”

  “We might also get through the letters and petitions on our desks.”

  Dekkard looked down at the stack before him. “If nothing else happens. But with that demonstration in front of the Palace, I wouldn’t wager on it.”

  “Word won’t get to us until midafternoon,” predicted Karola.

  Dekkard didn’t argue, and that was for the best, because he spent almost all of his time in the morning and early afternoon writing out draft responses. He did notice that there were a few more messengers in the office.

  That changed just before second bell, right after another messenger delivered something to Karola and she carried it in to Obreduur. Within minutes, she returned and went to the door of the side office. “The councilor wants a word with everyone.”

  In moments, Raynaad, Roostof, Macri, Anna, and Margrit were all in the anteroom, just as Obreduur stepped out of his office.

  “As most of you know, there was a demonstration this morning outside the Palace grounds. The number of demonstrators isn’t known exactly, but appears to have been between three and five thousand. They refused to disperse, according to Security Minister Wyath. So he called in the Special Tactical Forces. When the demonstrators still refused to disperse, the STF opened fire. Casualties among the protestors number in the hundreds. The Premier will address the Council about this at fifth bell tomorrow morning.” Obreduur paused, then added, “I suggest all of you be very careful in where you go in the next few days.”

  “The STFs shot people because they wouldn’t leave?” asked Raynaad.

  “I don’t know any more than I told you,” replied Obreduur. “I’ll let you know when I do.”

  And that won’t be soon. Dekkard kept that thought to himself as he studied the others, noting that while most looked concerned, Roostof appeared grimly resigned, and Margrit looked appalled.

  Obreduur inclined his head, then motioned for Karola to join him as he reentered his private office. Everyone else
returned to their desks, except for Dekkard and Avraal, who had never left theirs.

  “He’s worried, isn’t he?” asked Dekkard.

  “He is. Wouldn’t you be?”

  Dekkard nodded. “So am I, but the only thing I can do is finish drafting letters so that I’m ready if he needs something.” Obreduur would; Dekkard just didn’t know what it might be … or when.

  Although Dekkard looked up every time a messenger appeared, Obreduur didn’t ask for anything for the rest of the workday, except for Dekkard to get the Gresynt.

  The councilor was silent and thoughtful, not reading or writing the entire time, and Dekkard couldn’t remember when that had last occurred. After leaving Avraal and Obreduur at the portico, Dekkard forced himself to go over both Gresynts methodically. Ingrella’s steamer was almost as warm as the councilor’s, suggesting that she’d just returned as well.

  When Dekkard finished wiping down the Gresynts and turned to leave the garage, he looked up to find Avraal standing just inside the door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

  “That’s all right. I’ve only been here a few minutes. I need you to read something.” She held up what looked to be a note.

  “Something from Emrelda?”

  “It just arrived. It’s more than something.”

  Dekkard heard the concern in her voice and took two quick steps to join her. She handed him the note, but retained the messenger envelope. Dekkard immediately read the note.

  Avraal—

  You should know this. I’m on extended duty at the station because of the demonstrations at the Palace. I won’t be back at the house until late evening, if then.

  The Patrollers Benevolent Society of Machtarn has learned that none of the demonstrators in front of the Palace this morning were armed. Because several members of the PBSM also discovered that the Special Tactical Forces planted weapons among the bodies, the PBSM just informed the Minister of Security, the Premier, and the Imperador, in writing, that if Security agents or Special Tactical Forces continue to shoot civilians, all patrollers will feel free to use their weapons to protect those civilians, even if it causes casualties among the STF and agents.

  I’ll do the same, if I have to.

  The signature was Emrelda’s.

  Dekkard read it twice, just to make sure he’d read it correctly. “I almost don’t believe it … except she said more than once that the regular patrollers hate the agents and the STF.”

  “She’s said that for several years. You come with me.” She motioned to Dekkard, then turned and made her way to the study, where both Ingrella and the councilor sat. They both looked up in surprise.

  “From your expression, you have something of import,” said Obreduur.

  Avraal handed him the note.

  Obreduur read it, then handed it to Ingrella. When she finished, she returned it to Avraal, then nodded to her husband.

  Obreduur cleared his throat. “If indeed that happens, it may be what it takes to force the Imperador to request Ulrich’s immediate resignation as premier and to call for new elections. If he doesn’t, there will be even more blood on the streets…”

  “He’ll need to request the Craft Party to recommend a temporary premier as well,” said Ingrella. “Otherwise, nothing will change.”

  “The Craft Party, because it has the next most seats?” asked Dekkard. “Can he do that?”

  “He can,” replied Ingrella in the voice of legal authority. “It’s only happened three times since Laureous the Great, but the precedent is there.”

  “I’m not exactly holding my breath,” said Obreduur dryly.

  “Other circumstances may affect the Imperador’s decision as well,” said Ingrella.

  Obreduur raised his eyebrows.

  “Axel,” said Ingrella, with a hint of exasperation, “we’ve done what we can. Now all we can do is wait.” She looked to Avraal and Dekkard. “If I’m not mistaken, tomorrow will be a day of great rhetoric and public gnashing of teeth. Depending on what the Imperador does, Findi could either be a time of stunned quiet or fighting in the streets. Either way, you two need to spend time together. Enjoy dinner, and try not to talk too much about what you can’t control.”

  Obreduur smiled wryly. “When she talks that way … it’s a good time to listen.”

  Avraal reached out and took Dekkard’s hand. “It’s time for us to leave and do what she suggested.” She paused, then added, “But we’re still having throwing practice after dinner.”

  “I’ll tell Nellara and Gustoff,” said Ingrella with a smile.

  “Thank you.”

  “It will keep them from worrying, and it will reinforce the point that you can’t just sit around and wait when you don’t know what’s about to happen. It’s much better to do something constructive,” declared Ingrella cheerfully.

  Once Dekkard and Avraal were away from the study, she added, “We’re going to talk.”

  Dekkard grinned amiably. “That’s spending time together.”

  Avraal gave the smallest of headshakes as she led the way out to the covered portico. There, she stopped.

  “Where do you want to begin?” Dekkard asked deferentially.

  “I don’t know. Anything could happen, but … Ingrella is so calm. I don’t see how she can be. Maybe the worst is over.”

  Dekkard shook his head. “Even if the Imperador does request Ulrich’s resignation as premier and from the Council, and calls for elections, that doesn’t mean that everything’s solved. If the new elections don’t shift power from the Commercers and Landors, everything will be right where it is … if not worse, because the Commercers will believe that it wasn’t their positions as a party that caused the problems, but the incompetence of Grieg and Ulrich. They may tone things down for a bit, but the New Meritorists aren’t going away, and there will be more and more violence before long.”

  “We have a chance. I know we do.”

  “We do,” agreed Dekkard, “but winning itself won’t change anything. Even if the Craft Party wins the most seats, even if we win thirty seats … it’s still going to be a mess. The New Meritorists aren’t going away just because we won. Something will have to be done about Security agents and the STF … and about tax and tariff laws. I doubt if we really have enough experienced people to head all the ministries, either, although Ingrella probably can help enormously just because of who she knows. Also, even if they’re not in the majority, the Commercers will oppose everything that will make Guldor a better place for more people than just the well-off. They’ll use their private operatives wherever they can. You think we’ve had problems now…” He shook his head.

  Avraal smiled sadly. “You’re right, but we have to try.”

  “We are trying, remember?”

  She stepped forward and put her arms around him.

  86

  ON Quindi morning, Dekkard woke early, washed and dressed quickly, and hurried down to see what had been reported in The Machtarn Tribune.

  Palace Guards, Security Forces Attacked

  Early Furdi morning, thousands of ill-clad and obstreperous demonstrators filled the Square of Heroes across from the Imperial Palace. Shouting incoherent slogans and platitudes, workers who abandoned their workplace and other indigents demonstrated in support of overthrowing the Great Charter and instituting mob rule and personality politics. They then mocked and reviled the outnumbered Palace Guards, who were vainly trying to maintain order …

  The protestors, demonstrating against the government’s efforts to find and incarcerate the New Meritorist criminals responsible for destroying more than fifteen Security buildings across Guldor, refused repeated requests to disperse. After those refusals, the demonstrators, some with firearms, attempted to attack the Palace Guards, who had been reinforced by several detachments of the Security Special Tactical Forces. The STF was forced to open fire to protect the Palace Guards and the Palace. Despite the attempts at moderation by the Palace Guards and STF, the demonstrators managed to inflict w
ounds or otherwise injure thirty-one guards and STF security agents. None appeared to be serious.

  None of them serious? Dekkard frowned. All the demonstrations previously set up by the New Meritorists had resulted in casualties and fatalities to guards and patrollers. Then he recalled Emrelda’s note … and the fact she’d said that the demonstrators had been unarmed. And he’d seen no signs or placards. Had the demonstration been a stratagem to sacrifice people, if unwittingly, to show the brutality of Security, and, secondarily, of the Commercer-dominated government? He continued reading.

  Casualty figures for the demonstrators remain speculative because many who were injured fled. More than three hundred died in the Square …

  The Premier and the Imperador are scheduled to meet this morning to discuss the demonstration and other recent events …

  Dekkard shook his head as he finished the article, then paused when he heard Avraal’s boots on the back stairs, although he barely heard her steps, given how light on her feet she was. He waited until she’d almost finished her first mug of café before he handed the newssheet to Avraal.

  She took it without a word.

  He poured his café and put two croissants on his plate, along with the tomato jelly he wished were quince paste or even guava jelly, then sat down and took a sip of café. At first he thought the café was a touch more bitter than usual, but it didn’t seem that way after a second sip. Your imagination … because of the article?

  Avraal finished reading the newssheet and carefully replaced it on the side table. Then she took several more sips of café. She ignored the croissants. Finally, she said, “There’s not a word about the regular patrollers refusing to back Security.”

  “I noticed that. Would the newssheets know that? According to Emrelda, the society only wrote the Minister of Security, the Premier, and the Imperador. None of them would want it made public that the STF detachment planted weapons.”

  “The Tribune might know that. I wouldn’t put it past them not to print those details,” replied Avraal.