Chapter 55
When Aureu's various quarters were named, people were literal-minded. It was just after the Cleansing - whatever that really was - so they sought comfort in simple, common ground. Hence names like Sol's Haven, roads like the Circumference, and the Artificers' quarter: Blade's Birth.
Just south of Sol's Greeting, Blade's Birth took up a fifth of the city. Contrary to its name, clothes, carts, and everything Geos ran on came from those few square miles. Much of the area was given over to warehouses and factories, so space in the quarter had once been at such a premium that Artificers and their families doubled up rather than face living outside the quarter. But that was before the Battle for Aureu...
The air smelled strongly of dyes and smoke as Maya and Request walked through Blade's Birth. Hammering and yelling flowed from the workshops, blacksmiths, factories, and homes. Sometimes, one followed the other. In Geos, technology advanced through the replication of past works or forging of new designs, a process they had to hear as they walked.
“This place was always good for our Gang,” Request said, looking around. “Plenty of opportunities for small hands.”
“Artificers don't tend to be the most... aware of people,” Maya said.
“And they don't really keep records of their inventories. Once, our whole Gang took turns to rob lead from an Artificer near his Rest. When the last one went to help herself, she overheard him saying he needed to buy more lead because he must've run out.” She shook her head. “Ridiculous.”
“The Artificers run on trust, relying on people's good natures,” Maya said, a little defensively.
“I suppose you can if everything is given to you,” Request replied.
Maya couldn't argue with that. Artificers were funded by selling the rights of their designs to the Merchants. Such arrangements spread tax money, but it created a mindset among some that everything they need would always be provided for them, which was one of Note's biggest criticisms of the Station she ran.
“That'll only be a bad thing when they stop producing important products,” Maya said, turning to head toward the Library of Artifice.
“After the war, you mean.”
“Oh, far beyond then.”
“What do you mean?”
Maya shook her head. She didn't want to say that a people primed for war might find other targets when their crusade was over, that it could be people like Request, those who are different. Experience told her that, as much as they needed to eliminate the Disciples, doing so would only lead to fresh problems.
They walked to the Library of Artifice in silence. The city talked for them, speaking in burning furnaces and learning craftsfolk. The Acolytes nodded to anyone who recognised them, giving small thanks for acquiescences or condolences, until they reached the great library.
The first Artificer Councillor, Pierce, once looked at the Cathedral and proclaimed, “If Sol didn't want me to replicate that, he wouldn't have made it look over me like!” The Library of Artifice was a vanity project born of that statement, started when the people were just discovering their enemies in the north. Instead of concentrating on the war effort, Pierce had pushed ahead and produced a three-storey palace of white marble and painted stone. It took inspiration from the Chamber, wore the same columns and grand balconies, with towers reaching up from its corners.
Each tower contained books: outdated books, forbidden books, and ones no one understood. Note once showed Maya those books considered Heretical by the Lords: most had been like the slim volume she'd found in the Academy's library, filled with forbidden truths. Sometimes, she dreamt about that tower, about throwing it open and bringing people into the light.
“Are you okay?” Request asked, shaking her slightly.
“Sorry, I got taken away,” Maya lied. “It's a gorgeous building, isn't it?”
Request looked at the Library as though she'd not considered its beauty. “I guess so. It's due its annual dip of paint, though.”
“Must you always see the wear, the flaws?”
“No. I just see an opportunity to add my own mark,” Request said with a grin.
Maya clapped her shoulder with a laugh. “Let's get inside before you get us both in trouble.”
The sun's light spilled in from arched windows along the walls and ceiling, making the inside as bright as the outside world. They entered the main hall, the Library’s opening gambit to overawe visitors, which stretched away for what felt like miles. Its shelves helped deny Maya perspective, hence the Library sometimes being called the House of Tall Shelves. Vanity drove the twenty-foot high shelving: Pierce had said his Artificers would fill them all, and spent a day walking along each shelf to prove the designs safe. The first ten feet of the nearest shelves were packed with thick wooden tomes that detailed how to make wonders from paint to the Fixing to hemp. Some Artificers spent their entire careers climbing tall, wheeled ladders to codify this knowledge.
It was Request's turn to be awed: only once inside did you realise Pierce had managed to copy the Cathedral's ability to steal your breath. She looked up, as everyone did, and watched a grey-robed Artificer deftly sort piles of books twenty feet above them. Behind them, far behind, were pristine white arches that formed books where they met.
“See any flaws in here?”
Request shook her head. Her eyes were wide as a river.
“Come on. Note is expecting us.”
“One of those books is as tall as I am!” Request shouted.
Maya smiled, knowing where the Acolyte was pointing. “The Artificer who wrote it had terrible eyesight: the only way she could ensure her designs were correctly drawn was to make them that big.”
“How'd you know that?”
“I asked Note about it on my first visit here too.”
The young Acolyte looked around constantly as Maya led her through the main hall. Maya couldn't blame her, but did pull her insistently along, not wanting to keep her friend waiting.
Her friend. Note was her friend, Maya was sure of it: they had spent many evenings together, drinking, talking. She was interesting and funny, had thoughts about Solarism and the Bureau that made Maya believe in Geos' ability to progress. Maybe ten years older than Maya, Note had mentored her through some aspects of the Council. And yet here Maya was, interviewing her like a criminal. Tone had been right to insist they scratch her off the list for legitimate reasons, but Maya didn't like it.
Well, she’d had plenty of practice putting her thoughts and opinions aside.
When they reached Note's office, Maya took a breath, straightened herself, and cleared her love of her friend away before knocking.
“Enter,” Note called.
Maya led Request inside. Note's office was enormous: Artificer Councillors were expected to continue contributing to Geos' advancement, and their Councillor’s office had been built to accommodate the chosen Councillor's specialisation, no matter what it may be. For Note, a twenty-foot workbench covered with chemical glassware and small, focused fires were enough. The room also contained the Councillor's library, several cupboards of liquid chemicals, solid elements, and other compounds, a small, neatly kept desk, and a dozen chairs for attendees.
Note was behind her desk, a book in hand. Too slim to be a volume of knowledge, it was likely one of the fiction books she loved. Her pale brow lifted on seeing them, and her hand lowered the book to her desk.
“Maya, this is a surprise,” she said. Her Cyrus Force confirmed it. “I'd expected Tone.”
“We have decided to try and surprise our fellow Councillors when we can.” Maya turned to Request. “Councillor Note, may I introduce Acolyte Request?”
Request bowed, stiff and straight-faced. Maya suspected Tone had spoken with her in private, told her to be tough where Maya might be soft.
Note nodded to Request, then handed Maya an edict. “The Guardian has issued these.”
“What is it?” Maya asked.
“A command that Sol's Gift must not be used on Counc
illors during investigations into Lun's Burst.”
Maya frowned, took the paper. As she read, Request said, “Is that what they're calling it?”
“I'm afraid so,” Note said, a tad apologetically.
Maya checked the edict. Then again. Somehow, it was legitimate. She couldn't understand why. Handing it to Request, she asked, “Do you know why he ordered this?”
Note shrugged. “Probably because Blind kicked up a fuss. I can see the logic hiding behind it: if you can't use the Gift in Council sessions, why should you use it against us in interviews? Also, I'm unsure readings from the Gift are admissible in Hereticums.”
“I understand the second point,” Maya said after a deep breath. The Guardian was probably thinking ahead, already trusted them to find the culprit, and wanted nothing to diminish the perpetrator's Hereticum. She'd never considered the legal legitimacy of the feelings she could read... perhaps because she'd never thought she'd have to use Cyrus Force to interrogate.
“Damn, this'll complicate things,” Request said, screwing the note up. She was about to toss it away when she remembered she was in a Councillor's office, so instead she put it in her pocket. “It would've been much easier to catch the fuck with Sol's Gifts.”
“You can still use Sol's Gift,” Note said with a shrug. “You just can't make it obvious, or use it as proof. And you can start with me: I have nothing to hide.”
“Are you sure?” Maya asked.
“Why wouldn't I be? I have nothing to hide.”
“Well, thank you,” Maya said.
“Shall we sit?” Request asked, unimpressed by the Councillor's offer. Maya couldn't tell if her feelings were real or an act, as it was rude to read another Acolyte.
Maya sat in front of the desk. Request remained standing.
They started with asking baseline questions, letting Request in particular get a reading on Note's emotional output. Mostly, they concentrated on Note's whereabouts and meetings over the last two weeks: dull questions, but important ones. Everything Note said agreed with her public diary.
“You have been added to the list of suspects, Councillor, because you were issued a Secrecy Order by the Guardian over my proposed trip to the eastern Front,” Maya said when they had finished their baseline questions. “Why were you issued this order?”
“The Acolytes and their Councillor were viewed as the best people to look after a prototype weapon of mine,” she said, calm, almost emotionless. “It was a liquid glue I believe could gum up a Disciple's workings. It was to be tested by an Acolyte in their first encounter with a Disciple.”
“That's all?” Request asked.
“It is. A Secrecy Order must be thorough to be worthwhile: even someone with little involvement has to protect the secret. It's also worth knowing that Maya had told me already, and I was also bound by the covenant of friendship.”
There wasn't a hint of nervousness or worry on Note. Her Cyrus Force was placid, unflappable. Maya knew she told the truth, but her emotionless state showed how useless reading Cyrus Force could be.
“You provided the prototype and nothing more?” Request pressed.
“Nothing more,” Note replied. Maya saw no response, no flicker of emotions.
“What do you have against Geos then?” Request asked, leaning on her desk.
“Sol excuse you?”
“What do you have against Geos? Why did you turn traitor against Sol?”
Note's mouth tightened. A bloom of outrage filtered into her Cyrus Force. “I see what you are doing. I hope you can see how little I appreciate it.”
“Oh, you're a little annoyed, but probably because I'm getting so close to the truth.”
Note's eyes flashed to Maya, who shook her head as imperceptibly as possible. Request was following a decent line of inquiry, with so little to go on: in Contegon training, you were taught to wear down a potential criminal, find any weakness in their story or character.
“I am annoyed because I love Geos and Sol, working tirelessly for both. I have spent longer producing ideas and Artificers for the people than you have eating solid food, so I don't like having my faithfulness and commitment questioned. Even by an Acolyte.”
“I am an Acolyte, Councillor Note. My Station is above yours.”
“But not above the position of Councillor, Acolyte,” Note said, her nostrils flaring. “Remember that in your future interviews, young one.”
“Did you tell anyone else about this delivery?” Maya intervened, diverting Note’s attention to catch her out.
“No, why would I? It was my experiment, and I only had to deliver it to Pale.”
Request growled, “Did you kill my friends?”
Note leaned forward, took the Acolyte’s angry gaze in with utter calm. “No.”
“Like I’d believe—”
“Enough, Request. Stand down.”
The young Acolyte slowly straightened and took a step back. “I think you were right about her. There's nothing to suggest she's to blame.”
“Or that she isn't,” Maya said. “Our Gift is a shallow tool for reading emotions. She could be angry because you were getting close to the truth, or because you were insulting her.”
“Maybe,” Note added, sitting back in her chair, “this is why the Guardian told you not to use the Gift on we Councillors. Lord Blind would be full of disdain and anger at you even questioning him, let alone doing anything more. It’s potentially colouring your view of whatever he was saying.”
“And maybe you allowed us to read you because you knew that,” Request said.
Note tilted her head, gave her a small smile.
“So the question is whether you wanted to get away with something, or teach us something for the interviews you knew would be more fruitful,” Maya said, rubbing her shoulder.
“I think you know the answer.”
“Me too,” Request said.
“You think me innocent, then, Acolyte Request?” Note asked.
“I do,” Request said, sitting. “I've read your file, and there's no hint of anything which might cause you to turn traitor or Heretic. And I can read people without the Gift.”
Maya dropped her hand into her lap. “There would have been nothing in my file.”
“But you were moved to turn Heretic by Sol himself.”
The lie was so entrenched in Maya that she smiled without thinking about it. “True, but I didn't know that at the time, did I?”
They sit in silence for a while longer, thinking.
“You can ask me more questions if you want,” Note said. “Try to break me.”
“You would be okay with that?”
Note nodded. “I have allowed a full hour for this.”
“Well,” Maya said, “we have not proven to any satisfaction that Note is innocent. If you don't mind, we'll interrogate you harshly for the full hour.”
Note stretched. “Please, continue.”
“Okay,” Request said. “Let's start by asking about your sex life...”