Attending to BusinessIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | Attending to Business
The clock on the mantlepiece counted off another hour, and the restless Minister felt a gloom that the early afternoon sun could not disperse. A small portrait of the king looked impatiently down at him from the whitewashed walls that Princess Flora found such an affront in the grandeur of the palace. The World seemed to drum its fingers on the edge of his consciousness. Vikund sat silently behind the desk, having set his pen aside. The folder in front of him said "Confidential" in strident red letters, with the stamp of the Bureau of Information beneath it. It needed no additional introduction; the Prime Minister could be confident of the contents. There was no point putting the moment off, but he leaned forward to run his thumb over the shining torso of the female figure on his desk tidy for luck just the same. When he looked at the figure it sometimes gave him joy, but now it was strength he needed and that would have to come from within. He gathered the papers, rose to his feet and stepped out of the office, letting the door click shut behind him. He strode the short distance along deep pile carpets of crimson, where blood was oft spilled by letter rather than sword. Over and over he told himself, "He'll be out. He'll be with the prisoner, or with the king; anywhere but here. He'll be out." The mantrah may have worked in the mouth of a conjurer, but Vikund was not that, as he was often too quick to admit. Sometimes it gave him satisfaction to be called a fool, for it meant that he had an edge. Not so today, for he feared that it was what he would become. Amber was not a place for fools on days like today. He raised his hand at the door, hesitated a heartbeat then knocked loudly, wishing for silence. For a moment there was - and then he heard Mandor's voice, as cool and urbane as ever. "Enter, please." Vikund hid his inner turmoil well, as he always did, though something about the movement of his hand to the doorknob suggested reticence. He was not usually like this when meeting with the Prime Minister, but for once there was a lot more at stake. He took an additional breath, turned the handle and stepped into Mandor's office. He bowed, and cloaked his feelings with courtesy. "Good day, Prime Minister. Any news of His Majesty?" Mandor was seated behind his desk, dressed as he had been on the dock that morning, except that he was now wearing gloves. He motioned to Vikund to take a seat. "Morgan is with him," he said. "As I believed, there was nothing wrong with the King beyond a little over-indulgence. Johann's target was myself." The strange, parti-coloured eyes fixed on him for a moment. "And there is news too from Chaos. In the shape of an alarm. An envoy I sent there has occasioned a certain disruption." Vikund took his seat, placing the folder he was carrying across his knees. "Oh? I don't recall your previous envoys causing such a stir. What was the occasion?" "Baroness Helgram attempted to revisit the Logrus," said Mandor. "Revisit? I thought she'd only been there in her dreams before," Vikund replied. "How did the visit go?" "She survived," said Mandor. "In the circumstances, I rather gather that mudsst be seen as a positive outcome." "I'm sure," Vikund answered neutrally. He steepled his fingers under his chin. "And what would you suggest should be Mr Payne's fate?" "I suggest he be killed quietly after interrogation and a doppelganger substituted. Come his public execution, if he is at any point liberated then we will have outed more traitors," Vikund said evenly. "If not," he shrugged, "then the public will still have their show." "His interrogation proceeds apace," said Mandor. He smiled faintly, an almost sensuous smile of remembered pleasure. "After the meeting, you can go into Shadow and find the shadow Johann. You have three days. I suggest you take a companion. Larissa, perhaps. Or Clytemnestra." "Wouldn't a skilled shapeshifter be better?" Vikund suggested. "Shadows can be unpredicatable and troublesome. Larissa is hardly likely to be a willing accomplice, though I'm sure it would be a pleasure to accompany your daughter on any mission." "Who were you thinking of instead?" asked Mandor. "Or do you see this as a solo mission?" "I was thinking more of the problems in terms of logistics rather than partnerships. If it is your wish I find a Shadow of the prisoner, then I shall do what I need to to accomplish that goal. If you wish someone to go with me, I will defer to your judgement," Vikund replied. "And I will defer to yours, if you think you can find me a shifter who is not only capable of imitating Johann Payne, but also willing to give up their life in a damatic public execution without yielding to the temptation to shift into a form that would convince the gaping crowd that they are definitively not Johann Payne." Vikund managed a smirk at that comment. "I was thinking more in terms of putting on a convincing show rather than going through with the execution, but point taken. It would require a certain degree of skill to perform an effective deception, and possibly risk. Very well, I shall look for a Shadow that meets our requirements." "Did you want to look through my initial investigations from this morning," he asked tapping the file he held, "or do you want me to leave it with you?" "Yake me through the salient points," said Mandor. "Then leave me the file to study at leisure. I need to be up to speed before the family gathers, but detail can wait until afterwards." "On Johann's person were several trumps and the paraphenalia one would expect of an assassin. More intriguing finds were a trump sketch of Ornella and a trump of Petra, drawn in her own hand. That the trump of Petra was sewn into the lining of Johann's clothes indicated he did not intend using it during his attack," Vikund said. "It was not seen as a source of escape, but perhaps rather a possible source of information at a time of security. When I questioned Petra how he came by the trump, she answered that they had talked. Likely Johann contacted her first, and they exchanged cards. Petra had misplaced sympathy with him as an estranged member of the family. She has given me a file, included in my report, recording Johann's activities on the Queen. It is likely she has a trump of him, though it would be a futile exercise to confiscate it, since she can easily compose another." "I questioned Ornella and appeared to trigger a repressed memory. Ornella, it seems, was part of an abortive scheme to attack your person aboard the Ramblin' Queen. Johann's work with her mind was inexpertly, or possibly hastily completed and simple questioning was enough to release the true memory. Ornella said she had been badly used by Johann, and now proclaims to hate him. Certainly his contacts with her seem to have caused mental trauma," Vikund continued. "Ornella is currently being watched by the Queen's security people, but I warned her we would likely want to question her again. She also suggested Johann had cells ready to ferment rebellion in the city, but I guess Damian's intervention has forestalled any such rising. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if Damien invented it all the embolden Johann, but that is supposition on my part. Providing His Majesty makes a full recovery, I think matters are under control." He sat back and awaited any questions. Mandor was silent, his fingers steepled, brooding, it appeared. Finally he gave a little nod as though something was decided, and looked fully at Vikund. "Tell me," he said, "how far do you trust the owner of the Ramblin' Queen?" "It would be crude to generalise, but I would trust her not to kill me," Vikund replied. "I would trust her not to put herself or her staff in harm's way. She would not have allowed Johann to carry through any plan that involved compromising the Queen, of that I am certain." "That would suggest that, for the safety of the King and state, we should all decamp onto that floating bordello," said Mandor, smuiling faintly. "A procedure that Merlin seems to be embracing already ... "Do you have any idea who is her backer?" "She doesn't need one," Vikund replied. As Mandor was speaking, Vikund began to feel the prickling of a trump. "A moment," he said. "I'm getting a call. Let me deal with it." His gaze became unfocused for a few seconds.... Vikund blinked, and his focus returned. "I have a message from your apprentice," he said. "She's on her way back, and she intends to resign and pack her bags. Whatever she has seen or heard has clearly distressed her." "Then it will be your task to convince her to stay," said Mandor. "In addition to your other duties." He smiled suddenly. "Or perhaps I shpould let her have her storm of indignation. It might prove amusing to watch how far she runs - and where." Vikund didn't share the smile, frowning slightly. On anyone else it might have looked like concern. "I will talk to her. Even if I can't persuade her to stay, I'm sure she will give a fair indication of where she intends to go." Mandor nodded. "And now, I think, we should attend to this meeting," he said,m and he rose to his feet. "Unless there's anything else I should be briefed om first?" "That's all I have for now," Vikund replied. "Pardon me if I'm a little late for the meeting. I will follow shortly." He dropped the files he was carrying into the tray on Mandor's desk, bowed and left the office. Mandor dismissed him with a wave. Vikund closed the door behind him and retreated to his office. He resumed his seat and took out the silver cigarette case from his pocket, pulling a slip of paper from between the cards and smoothing it flat, though there was little need. He concentrated on the pencil-drawn face of Mandor's young apprentice and reached for contact. deeply, "I'm sorry, Tasha. Someone's calling me." She leaned back in her seat and opened her mind to the sensation, *Yes?*
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