Imager’s Intrigue

17

Diestrya was sick enough that, on Mardi, Betara and Seliora ended up trading off taking care of her at our house. While Diestrya was better on Meredi, Seliora told me that she and her mother would take care of her the same way, so I ended up taking the duty coach straight to Civic Patrol headquarters for the captains’ meeting ordered by Commander Artois. That gave me a little more time to help Seliora before I left. I just hoped that neither Seliora nor Betara caught what ever illness Diestrya had.

Because I got to headquarters more than a quarter-glass before the meeting, I slipped into the charging section, where I’d worked briefly years before. Back then, Gulyart had been the patroller first who had headed the charging section, but he now worked upstairs under Lieutenant Sarthyn, as one of the patroller clerks who dealt with all the administrative requirements for bringing a prisoner to trial. Now the patroller who ran the charging desk was Buasytt, a graying veteran whom I’d never seen smile. He’d finished the chargings for night’s prisoners, and the day’s offenders hadn’t appeared yet, doubtless because very few offenses occurred in the morning.

“Buasytt…what was the weekend like?”

The patroller ran a large hand through his thinning short hair. “A real mad house, Captain. That didn’t even count all the dead elvers.”

“What about this week?”

“Real quiet. Can’t say as how I’ve seen it this quiet in a long time.” He laughed. “Maybe the weekend was enough. Except for the elvers. Captain Subunet says we’ve got reports of a few more last night.”

I nodded. “We’ve all seen more elver deaths.” I smiled. “Take care.”

“You, too, Captain.”

I made my way up the back steps to the second level and then along the hallway, past the doors that held the various officers’ studies, including those of Cydarth and the Commander. Only Sarthyn’s door was open, and he wasn’t there.

Jacquet and Kharles were already in the conference room, standing beside the windows that looked east. They looked up. Kharles had dark circles under his eyes.

“It looks like you’ve been fighting the Namer,” I offered wryly.

“Haven’t we all?” replied Jacquet. “Kharles just has more of his disciples in his district…although I hear things haven’t been good in Fifth District, and you’ve had fires and other problems.”

“It’s not what you’d think,” Kharles said tiredly. “We haven’t caught or charged a taudis-tough in a week. It’s all amateurs or the Duodeans or the Puryons…or what ever the Tiempran religious types call themselves.” He stopped, looking past me.

I turned. Hostyn had just stepped into the room, trailed by Lieutenant Yerkes, who was apparently the Acting Captain of Fifth District. Behind them was Subunet, followed almost immediately by Cydarth and the Commander. The fact that Artois wasn’t waiting for his captains to settle in suggested, as much as the meeting itself, that he was more than professionally concerned. Commander Artois looked thin, almost gaunt, not that he’d ever been particularly beefy or muscular, and he sat down quickly, barely waiting for all the captains to take their places at the conference table.

As soon as the last rustle died away, he spoke. “You all know the subject of the meeting. You may not know that the Council has found the growth in the number of elveweed deaths distressing. Appalling, in fact. There have been more elveweed deaths in the past four weeks than in the entire previous year. There is one anomaly in the reports.” His eyes turned to me.

So did Cydarth’s, as well. I waited.

“Deaths in all districts are up, but in one district they’re up less than half the rate in any other. Captain Rhennthyl, I’ve studied your report, and it’s rather…remarkable. In addition to a much lower death rate, you have the only district where the elveweed deaths are barely higher in the taudis areas than outside them. Would you care to explain how you obtained that remarkable achievement? Especially in such a short time?”

“Sir…it’s not because of anything I’ve done in the past few weeks. When I first became a captain, there was a tremendous elveweed problem in the taudis in Third District, and the patrollers and I made a strong and determined effort to drive the dealers out of the area. We also worked on preventing schoolchildren from being used as runners. This is something that we’ve pursued for years, and I’ve made it very clear to the taudis-dwellers where I stand on this. We certainly haven’t been able to stamp out elveweed, but we have been able to restrict it.”

“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.