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simply unhealthy it is dangerous, it's illegal, and . . ." He leans forward,
a kind of cold anger in his blue eyes. "And this creature has a measure of
political protection, does he not?
Aiah finds herself paralyzed for a moment beneath the certainty of those
watery eyes, beneath the intelligence that had just unraveled the secret she
had been trying so desperately to preserve with lies she had thought so
cunning.
"Yes," she finally says. "But it's unwilling protection. The person doesn't
want
Rohder nods thoughtfully to himself. "I knew when I read Constantine's
article: It was too outside his usual sphere . . . far too assured." He
nods as if confirming something to himself. "He found a use for the thing,
then. I'd wondered how so many of the Keremaths had died, in the first
minutes of the coup, in such a well-shielded building.
"It's haunting him," Aiah says. "It can destroy everything he's built. We've
got to get rid of it.
Rohder takes a meditative draw on his cigaret. "Then why is Constantine not
leading the charge?" he says. "Why isn't he putting a group of mages
together he can find more suitable ones than you can, I'm sure. Why isn't
Constantine solving his own problem?
"He can't. He's too caught up in it. And " There is an ache in her throat,
because she doesn't want to admit this of him, not this kind of weakness.
It's not, after all, a flaw of greatness; not a crime of excess, like those
she's got used to, a desire for women, or an uncontrollable appetite for
conspiracy. A baffling subtlety of policy.
"Constantine is afraid of the thing," she admits. "He's known it for years,
and
"If he's afraid of it," reasonably, "then perhaps it is with good reason.
Perhaps you should be as afraid as he.
"The secret is very near to being revealed," Aiah insists. "There is no one
who can follow Constantine, no one capable of continuing his work. If he is
linked with this creature, he falls, and all our work, yours and mine, goes
for nothing. I haven't given my life to Caraqui to have it wrecked by
something like this.
Rohder leans back and considers. A spasm, amusement perhaps, crosses his
features. "You want to keep your job," he says. "That is a reason I can
respect.
"That is not what I mean!" Frustration and anger fire her words into the air
like bullets. "It's not just me, it's the tens of thousands who died, all the
people who lost their homes. .. . All they've got left is hope, and I can't
let them lose that, too, not when I could have helped...." Her nails bite the
metal of the chair arm, leave silver scars in the gray paint.
Rohder regards the matter, nods. "I will offer what advice I can, though I
will not confront this thing directly, nor will I play a part in your actual
operation.
Aiah feels her frustration abate somewhat. "Thank you," she says.
"And in regard to our jobs, our official jobs," reaching for a file, "I have
another report from the Havilak's Transformation team. They have found
another altered office building, the Communications and Telephony Center down
on Orange Canal.
"Altered." The shift in subject matter bewilders her for a moment. "Oh you
mean
"Another building, which we'd scheduled for internal reshaping along the lines
of fractionate interval theory, was found to have been altered before we could
get there. A complete job this time, not half-finished like the first.
The Dreaming Sisters, Aiah thinks, a burst of revelation. It's the sisters
who are altering these buildings, giving themselves the plasm for those huge
displays. They must have discovered FIT long ago, kept it to themselves,
along with their theories of life extension and plasm use. . . .
"As before," Rohder continues, "the meters have shown the increase, which
occurred gradually about a month ago, and there is no evidence that any plasm
was stolen.
They only used the plasm for a brief display, Aiah thinks. Afterward they let
it flow into the public supply.
Perhaps she will confront them with this knowledge at some time, or through
this matter of Taikoen earn their trust so that they will share their secrets
with her.
"If there was no plasm stolen," Aiah says, "then it's not the business of our
department.
"I find it difficult to believe," Rohder says, "in these omnibenevolent mages
who creep about in secret to improve the structure of our public buildings.
I would like to know what they're after.
"Maybe you'll meet them someday.
He narrows his eyes, suspicious of her sudden gaiety.
"Maybe," he says.
CONSTANTINE PROMISES "HOUSING OUT OF THIN AIR
PLANS NEAR COMPLETIONAlfeg's office is filled with Barkazil memorabilia: old
Holy League recruiting posters, a frame chromo of the Coffee Factory before
the war, pictures of long-dead politicians, and, in a wetsilver frame, the
same cheap portrait of Karlo that hangs in Aiah's flat.
The metal door is locked from the inside. Aiah sits on the desk, Khorsa and
Alfeg are in chairs, and Dr. Romus is coiled on the floor. Refiq is back in
his apartment, with booze, pills, and a girl he picked up, and will probably
be there for a while.
"Destroying the hanged man," Aiah tells them, "will mean destroying Refiq's
body along with it. Refiq is already dead, but we can't prove it, and it
won't look that way to an observer. It will look like a violation of the
victim's rights. Even under martial law we've had to obtain warrants for our
arrests, we've presented evidence to military judges, and the sentences passed
have been legal under martial-law decree. If we destroy the hanged man, we
will be acting in violation of law.
She looks at the solemn faces of Khorsa, Alfeg, and Dr. Romus. "That's why
I've spoken only to you three. Whatever we do here, I want absolute secrecy
in this matter, and I want you to understand that this mission will not take
place officially, that there will be no files, no casework, no commendations.
It's a job that needs to be done in complete secrecy, so complete that no one
else can ever be told.
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