Walter Williams - City on Fire

Aiah needs to remember that next time she tries to use him as her passu.

“If this thing is a pet of someone in the building,” Aiah says, “that makes it worse. I don’t think anyone should have such a creature at his beck and call.”

The fierce conviction in her words surprises her, and she sees Rohder’s eyes widen a bit at her evident fire.

He sighs heavily, then turns to his computer display. “I will find out what I can,” he says. “There are some people I can contact at Margai University.”

Aiah leans toward him, puts a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Mr. Rohder. This could be important.”

Rueful humor settles onto his face. “I don’t promise results,” he says. His hands automatically search his empty pockets for cigarets.

Aiah leans back, takes a pack of Amber Milds from behind the computer, and hands it to him with a smile as she heads for the door.

It’s nice, she concludes, for once in her life to leave Rohder’s office without the stench of tobacco on her clothes.

TIMETABLE FOR LANBOLA WITHDRAWAL TO BE NEGOTIATED

POLAR LEAGUE AID TO BE RESUMED

PRINCIPLE OF COMPENSATED DEMOBILIZATION ACCEPTED

“Thank you for seeing me, Miss Aiah.” Dr. Romus sways into Aiah’s office, moving by throwing a thick loop of his body ahead of him, then pulling the rest after.

Aiah wants to turn away from the sinuous, unnatural movement, but she compels a grave smile to appear on her face and rises to greet him.

“You said it was important?” she says.

The reedy voice echoes oddly from her office walls. “I can’t think it can be anything but important,” Romus says. Aiah sits, and Romus lowers his upper body to keep his head on a level with hers, his usual act of courtesy.

Aiah had difficulty justifying his hiring, particularly in light of his plasm scan, which revealed a long life—he is over a hundred—rich with various crimes, major and minor. But none of the crimes were vicious—most concerned theft of state property, like plasm, electricity, or fresh water—and any violence seemed to be in the interests of defending himself or protecting his half-world.

The plasm scan also revealed he had no intention of using his position in the PED for any illegal advantage. His criminality, he seemed to suggest, was in part justified by his desperate position in the world; once in a better position, there would no longer be a need for such activity.

It was not a justification that sits easily with Aiah’s judgment. But it was one she used herself—it had brought her here, to her position in Caraqui—and so she’d decided to take a calculated risk.

So far it seems to have paid off. Romus has been working for the PED for two weeks now, and reports from his superiors have been positive. He’s clever, they say, and he minimizes use of plasm. He’s very good at surveillance, very patient, and his reports are models of clarity.

“What’s the problem?” Aiah asks.

Shieldlight glitters in Romus’s yellow eyes. “I saw something first shift yesterday,” he says. “In the lobby of the secure room.”

A warning cry sounds in Aiah’s nerves. “What were you doing there? You’re not authorized for the secure room.”

“I was not in the secure room. I was in the lobby, resting. Sleeping, actually.” The cilia surrounding Romus’s face writhe uneasily. “I have no place to live, you see. I eat in the Palace restaurants using my meal ticket, and my other needs are few. So when I have no work, and if there is someone working in the office I share, I usually find a quiet place and sleep. The secure room lobby is quiet—the clerk on duty usually has very little business during sleep shift—and…” A little tongue licks his thin brown lips. “Because I am not shaped as the average human, my sleeping places tend to be where others might not expect to find a person… I am often overlooked. You have overlooked me yourself.”

“Yes,” Aiah says. Dread settles cold into her bones; she knows what is coming. “Go on,” she says.

“The triumvir came in around 02:30,” Romus says. “He came in with the giant guard, Martinus. He asked the clerk to leave and wait outside, then went into the secure room.

He was there for twenty minutes or so. I could hear him opening drawers and looking through files. And then…” There is a look of fear in the yellow eyes. “And then something came. It didn’t come through the door, it just… it was just there.”

“What sort of thing was it?” Aiah asks.

“Unnatural. A presence… a creature of some sort.” His head bobs, turns away from Aiah’s glance. “I would have to invoke myth to describe it. A demon, an evil angel. A force. It was terror without form. My only instinct was to flee.” A trace of anger enters his voice. “I don’t understand how it got there. The secure room is fully shielded! It was—” Words fail him for a moment, and when they return, they grow increasingly dogmatic. “An impossibility. It should not have happened at all. It violates every law of—”

“Tell me what happened,” Aiah interrupts.

Romus’s head sways in agitation. “The thing spoke to the triumvir. It made demands of some sort… I could not quite understand what it wanted. The triumvir said that he was doing his best, that he was—I believe the word he used was searching. The demon was arrogant, threatening. It said that the triumvir was late. I began to understand that it was demanding… people. As if the triumvir was to sacrifice to it, as to an evil god. And then the triumvir said, Very well, these will do, but you must come to my suite, I can’t do it here. And then the creature left… just faded away.

“When the triumvir left a few moments later, he called the clerk back and checked out a file. After a few hours, Martinus returned the file, and it was checked in.” Romus rapidly licks his lips.

“I do not know if these things are usual. I do not know if I am permitted to speak of them. I come to you more for advice and—” He looks away again. “I wish to know if I am in danger for seeing this thing.”

Aiah clasps her hands to keep them from trembling. Too many people know, she thinks… It only requires them to start talking to each other for the secret to be revealed. And once word gets out, Constantine will be ruined…

Consorting with a demon. What would Parq and the Dalavans make of that?

“Have you told anyone else?” Aiah asks.

“No. I couldn’t make up my mind what to do. In the end I just came to you.”

His head sways toward her on the end of his long neck. Aiah starts back, then catches herself. She presses her hands to the cool top of the desk.

“Firstly,” Aiah says, “you must tell no one else. That will put you in danger.”

Romus’s head bobs. “I understand.”

“Secondly,” taking a breath, “please believe I am aware of the existence of this thing, and that I know it is very dangerous. The problem is capable of resolution, and steps are being taken. I can’t reveal what steps exactly, but I implore you to understand that this will take time. The nature of this creature is such that we cannot afford any mistake—if the strike against him misses, there will be no chance for another.”

A grimace passes across Romus’s homunculus face. “I have had the strangest notions since I saw this thing. Now I wonder how many of these creatures exist in the world, if they all attach themselves to powerful men, and how much of the evil in the world might be explained this way…”

For a moment Aiah considers this notion, the thought of a secret evil behind the veils of the world, Taikoen and his kin feeding forever on the weakness of the great.