L. E.Modesitt - Imager’s Intrigue

“Can you be sure that you just haven’t neglected the less…well-off areas in order to patrol the taudis?” asked Cydarth, his deep voice sounding more sinister than reassuring.

“If you would like to review the patrol logs, Subcommander, I’d be most happy to make them available to you. But I’m most certain that you will find no change in the patrol patterns and times in Third District over the last several years, and very little change from the patterns established by my predecessor.”

“If he says it’s so, Cydarth,” interjected Artois, his voice tired, “it’s so.”

“Of course. Of course.”

Only Cydarth could inject so much doubt into words of agreement.

Should I let him get away with it? I decided against it, this time. “With such doubt in your voice, Subcommander, I really do think you should come out to Third District and go over the logs. I wouldn’t want you to have any misapprehensions.” I looked at Cydarth and projected total assurance.

He sat back in his chair and did not speak for a moment. Finally, he said, “It’s been a rather trying business for all of us, Captain. I did not mean to suggest…”

“Good!” snapped Artois. “The question is what the rest of you can do about the problem…”

“We don’t have Rhenn’s…special contacts…” offered Yerkes.

The acting captain’s words confirmed some of my suspicions.

“Oh?” asked Artois. “Exactly what contacts do you think he has, Lieutenant?”

“He is an imager.”

“I haven’t seen the Collegium patrolling Third District,” Artois replied coldly. “I have seen that he has made an effort to discover the taudischefs and talk to them. That is not beyond your abilities, I don’t believe. Is it?”

“I think, Commander,” added Cydarth smoothly, “that what acting Captain Yerkes means is that the taudischefs are more likely to talk to an imager.”

Artois looked to me again.

I smiled. “Like all patrol officers, I started by walking rounds. Admittedly, it was as a liaison, but I did walk rounds, and, like some good officers, such as Captain Bolyet, I have kept walking rounds and talking to the people on the rounds. I have met every taudischef in Third District by walking rounds.” Except for the two who had avoided me and were dead. “I don’t think this is impossible. Lieutenant Alsoran continues to do the same, and I suspect that there are other Civic Patrol officers who do the same. It is more work. I’d be the first to admit it, and it’s hard on feet and boots.” I looked at Cydarth, as guilelessly as I could. “The problem is, Subcommander, that if an officer hasn’t been doing it all along, then people get suspicious when he starts doing it. My talent was in listening to the patrollers who were effective on their rounds, and following their example.”

Cydarth started to speak.

“Enough,” said Artois. “We’re not going into a discussion of how captains maintain the peace.” His eyes fixed on Yerkes. “Your task, Lieutenant, is to run Fifth District effectively, based on your abilities. Others have certainly done it, and they weren’t imagers either. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Yerkes had paled, but I suspected there was more than a little rage beneath the subservience.

Again, I looked from Artois to Cydarth, the one tense and nervous and stressed, and the other calm, almost serene, and I knew , even if I couldn’t prove it, that Cydarth was somehow linked to the problems plaguing the Commander and the Civic Patrol. The problem was that Cydarth had never cared for me. And he’d certainly care a great deal less for me now.

Artois looked at the captains, one by one before he spoke again. “If you have to incarcerate every drug runner in L’Excelsis for the next week, do it. We can’t keep that up for long, but it might buy us some time…while other measures are being implemented.”

We all knew that implementing the Commander’s orders wouldn’t help much. Since he usually didn’t give those kinds of orders, the pressure on him had to be considerable. From there, the meeting dwindled away into a few minor changes in procedures and then a rapid closure.

I took my time rising from the conference table, letting Yerkes and Hostyn follow the Commander and subcommander. Subunet and Kharles followed, but Jacquet lingered slightly, murmuring as he moved away from the table, “Cydarth won’t forgive you. Neither will Yerkes.”

“I know.” I smiled. “But I don’t forget, either, and I only forgive honest mistakes.”

We both knew that Cydarth forgave nothing.

The fourth week of Feuillyt was definitely a time for unplanned meetings, because when the duty coach picked me up at Third District station on Jeudi afternoon, Lebryn had a message requesting my presence at half-past fifth glass in Maitre Poincaryt’s study. Then, when we reached NordEste Design, I discovered that Seliora had been through a long day with Diestrya, and the card-reader on one of the jacquard looms had broken. It had taken Seliora the afternoon to rebuild it, and that had meant Betara and the twins had been stuck with a very cranky, if recovering, Diestrya.

Seliora just looked at me after she read the card signed by Master Dichartyn.

“I didn’t plan it,” I finally said.

“It would be today.”

“I’ll get home as soon as I can.”

“Don’t hurry.”

I winced. I hated that tone in her voice.

“Rhenn…” Seliora said softly, shaking her head. “I’m not upset at you. But don’t hurry. If they need to talk to you, it’s important. If you’re worried about us, you won’t be thinking about what ever it is.” She leaned toward me and kissed my cheek.

That kiss helped.

After we reached Imagisle, I did have time to cart Diestrya to the house, and that was necessary because she wanted to sit down and dawdle and otherwise show that she was three years old and had a mind of her own. Then I hurried back to the administration building.

Both Maitre Poincaryt and Dichartyn were waiting for me in the comparatively capacious second-level study of the Maitre of the Collegium Imago situated on the southwest corner. I slipped into the vacant seat in front of Master Poincaryt’s desk, beside Master Dichartyn.

“We asked you to join us, Rhenn,” began Maitre Poincaryt, “because we believe that Solidar faces one of the most potentially dangerous situations in years. There are a number of matters that lead us to that conclusion, and we would like to describe them to you, as well as hear anything from you that may bear on them.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dichartyn turned to me. “From everything we’ve been able to determine, the Ferrans should have attacked Jariola before now. They have not, and it is extremely costly to hold large forces in readiness away from their normal bases for weeks. Yet that is exactly what the Ferrans have done, and they have always been conscious of costs.”

“Furthermore,” added Maitre Poincaryt, “our sources indicate that two Ferran field commanders have been summarily relieved over the past weeks. But there have been no official disciplinary actions taken.”

I’d never thought that avoiding war was a bad idea, but both Maitre Poincaryt’s tone and the statement itself suggested more. “You think they’re waiting for something else to happen? You’re concerned that it might be something here in Solidar?”

“Actually, Rhenn,” Dichartyn said mildly, “you’re really the one who suggested it…if you recall. Have you any more information about either factors or elveweed?”

“The number of elver deaths is up, and it’s affecting more and more young people outside the taudis. Commander Artois had a meeting of all the District captains yesterday….” After I explained that, as well as mentioning, again, the death of the woman who hadn’t been an elver, they both nodded, if as acknowledging something they already knew, if not in detail.