Chapter 64
Request ate alone and tried not to feel uncomfortable with doing so. She found being alone somewhere so large disconcerting: her home was a quarter the size of Maya's, with three times the occupants and considerably more holes in its roof. The Acolyte's Academy had been small too, barely giving her enough room to stretch in between lessons. Maya’s home, like everything else in Sol's Landing, had more to it, more consideration and care. She would have hated staying in the area if the Stationless hadn't been allowed to live here, if she didn't see people like her when she left the house.
Not people like her though, she reminded herself: she was Stationed now.
“Someone's stepping in,” Ink said. The Spirit floated behind her, forming shapes and drawings from her body as entertainment for them both as Request ate.
Someone opened the front door. Request was expectant, hopeful, then tried not to look disappointed when it was Councillor Tone White.
“Good afternoon, Request. Is your Councillor not here?”
“No. She left well before I woke.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
Request shook her head.
“She left far before dawn,” Ink added, surprising Request.
After a pause, Request asked, “I assume the vote yesterday didn't go as hoped?”
“Not as Maya hoped, no. But it did go as I had hoped.”
“How do you mean?”
Tone White seemed to consider responding, before saying, “Mind if I sit?”
Request gestured to the table. “Have some food. It'll just go cold otherwise.”
“Thank you. I may do so.”
The Councillor sat. The dish before her was a simple stew, beef and vegetables, which Maya had loaded with spices. Tone ladled some into a clean bowl, then took up the cutlery Request had laid for Maya.
Request watched her, oddly fascinated by her deliberate movement in eating. “The vote?” she asked.
“Yes. I was fully behind Maya, supporting her personal need and this investigation's urgency, but I agreed with my fellow Councillors: plumbing other Stations would set a dangerous precedent. I also don't like the idea that we... we throw away everything we've built up over decades just because the Disciples have developed a new tactic.” She took another mouthful, then added, “Not that it isn't a horrific and awful tactic we should respond to, of course.”
“I don't get it,” Request said, dropping her spoon into her bowl. “Some investigations under a horrible, unique circumstance wouldn't threaten the mess you've all created.”
The Councillor flinched but didn't rise to her point. “But it would give Contegons and Acolytes too much power, as we would then be expected to dig into other Stations if there's evidence of wrongdoing. Not only that, but it would question the fundamental principles of the Stations: Sol put us in the positions we currently hold, so it was his plan that I am a Contegon and you are an Acolyte. Allowing what Maya wanted says that only the Acolytes and Contegons are truly chosen by Sol.”
“Not if Acolytes and Contegons could plan against each other,” Ink added.
Request nodded. “Yes, the Acolytes and Contegons could be responsible for each other's honesty.”
Tone frowned. “What would you get, though? Suspicion and constant counter-investigations? No, it's better to trust people. That is what Sol teaches us.”
It annoyed Request that she could see the ghost of a point in what Tone said: constant suspicion would never end well. What she was, the pinnacle of a Station, separated from others by her last name and her robes, made Request's mind itch, but she respected the woman. If anyone deserved such power, it was Contegon Councillor Tone White.
“She's one sharp blade,” Ink agreed, knowing the Councillor wouldn’t hear. “You want to be her when you're grey: driven by your beliefs and free to plan them out. Only your beliefs make you different.”
Request couldn't argue with that. Though Maya and her Spirit Applekill sometimes bickered, Request never disagreed with Ink. How could she? Ink was her urge to create, her talent. More than once, she'd wondered what part of Maya her Spirits represented: Mission was clearly duty, honour. But what might Applekill be? If she were, in fact, part of Maya: as the first Spirit, she could be a part of Sol.
Request stopped staring at her food. In the meantime, Tone kept eating. “Can I ask, then, why don't we just trust that the Councillors were all wrongly implicated?”
Tone tipped a piled spoonful of stew into her mouth, and then started chewing. To avoid being rude, she put a hand before her lips. “Well, we have evidence that a law was broken.”
“Wasn't that the case under Maya's proposal for greater access?”
“I suppose,” Tone conceded. “But her urge to break the rules came not from a fresh piece of evidence.”
“A dead Councillor isn't evidence enough?”
“That's smack on,” Ink added. She swirled round Request. “She can't knock that one down.”
Tone swallowed, sat back in her chair. “You are certainly a challenging one, aren't you, Acolyte? Don't get me wrong, that’s not a criticism.” Her voice started to drift, as did her attention. “Maybe we need that now: maybe we need to grow and adapt along with the Disciples.”
Request watched her, waiting for another barb. But Tone had nothing more to say, had entered some internal world instead of continuing the conversation. It was, she supposed, commendable that she was even admitting that there might be a need to change.
For some reason, Request felt she should reward that admission. “I was saving this for Maya's return, but we might not want to sit on it. You see, I can prove we prematurely cleared the Mater Councillor.”
Tone's eyes cleared of confusion and debate. “What have you found?”
Request walked along the table to her papers. “I was thinking about other suspects beyond the current three we're working with. You cleared Visit through her lack of connection with the attack, right?”
“You mean the Mater Councillor?” Tone replied, reminding her Visit was her superior.
“Yes, her,” Request hissed at the unnecessary correction. “Anyway, Maya requested a list of everyone involved in packing for her trip, so I went through it and looked instead at the suspects' spouses.”
“Why?” Tone said, sitting forward with interest.
Request went through the papers, trying to find her list, but didn't stop talking. “Well, people tend to Join within their Station or with the Stationless, right? Cross-Station Joinings need to be approved, and are discouraged because of that...” Request waved vaguely at Tone. “Mean you have to remain separate.”
“That's all accurate. What's your point?”
Ink flew to Request's shoulder, then snaked a tendril toward one of the piles.
“Ah, here it is,” Request said. She grinned as she brought the document to Tone. “I went to the Cathedral this morning and pulled the Joining records of everyone involved in the preparations. All of them Joined with the Stationless, or within their own Stations. All very normal. Until I noticed a name I recognised.”
Request put the list on the table and pointed to the name. Tone’s eyes widened. “Visit?”
“Exactly,” Request said triumphantly. “She was Stationless when she Joined... Crab, his name is, but has since become the Mater Councillor. The decision was never revisited.” Request turned the page of notes over to a list of responsibilities. “And look at what Crab was in charge of according to Pale's public notes.”
Tone read this new list. “He was the Cleric charged with buying the travel equipment.”
“Now, were you a Cleric charged with a secret task, what would be the safest way to ensure no one realised a large number of trunks, suitcases, and so on were being gathered?”
“Keep them at home,” Tone nodded. “Taking them to the Bureau would be noticed. But wait, Flux and his Farmers had the trunk after Crab passed them on. Wouldn't the whole plan have been at risk then?”
“I
've considered that: we don’t know enough of Disciple technology to guess at the size of the mechanisms they use. Whatever killed my friends could have fitted in the lock, and so was only active when the Farmers locked it for the journey. Or it could have been time sensitive. Sol, they could have hidden the explosive and that new Disciple in a false bottom so the Farmers would never know.”
Tone looked Request up and down. “This is very impressive work.”
“Thank you.”
“I think we need to interview Crab. Today.”
Request frowned. “Do you think he could have been in on it?”
“It's not impossible: the ties of a Joining are greater than the ties of your Station. Which is why inter-Station Joinings are frowned upon.” Tone let that point hover between them before continuing. “But I want to confirm that he kept the trunk at his home first. If he admits this, Visit is officially a suspect again.”
Request smiled. “Are you going now then?”
“We are going now. Unless you're busy?”
The suggestion took her by surprise. “I thought we'd separated into teams for a reason?”
“Only for ease. Besides, I would value the view Sol's Gift will provide on Crab.”
Request's smile deepened, gained a new edge. “Now hang on, Contegon Councillor, I thought the insight Sol's Gift provided couldn't be used as evidence against someone?”
“It can't. And, normally, I'd refuse such a thing. But we aren't using it as evidence in a Hereticum, but an indication as to whether a Councillor should be considered a suspect. They're different things,” Tone said, winking at Request. “Think of this as me growing and adapting.”
“Yes, you definitely want to be well-ordered as her when you get wrinkles,” Ink confirmed before disappearing, knowing it was time for the humans to deal with their matters.
“I'm not too busy to help a Contegon Councillor,” Request said, ignoring her Spirit. “Let's go.”
“You realise, though,” Tone said as they closed the door behind them and ensured that no one had seen them enter, “that growth does not mean that you abandon your roots?”
“It does if you're a new plant altogether.”
Tone snorted, either mild derision or amusement, then led the way to Crab's home.