Page 16

Chapter 16

The next morning I called a carriage for Ana, and together we rode to the Apoth advanced fermentation works. The sky was dreary and overcast, the clouds low and resentful as they gathered over the hills, until they finally released a drizzling rain. All the world felt stagnant, with little light, and no wind.

Ana—blindfolded, of course—spoke constantly as we rattled on over the muddy roads. “Apoth fermentation works are some of the most complex of all their facilities—did you know that, Din?”

“I did not, ma’am,” I said, yawning. However many hours of sleep I’d captured last night, they’d not been enough.

“Oh, yes. They are mostly found in the inner rings, these great, sprawling piles of pots and pipes and telltale plants grouped about the canals, all put together to prevent impurities and maintain nutrient concentrations…The materials and tissues they produce are so complex that even I have a little trouble following the—Oof! My, that was a big bump, I wonder how that brick back there got so dislodged…” She then launched into a winding dissertation about roads: one of her favorite topics.

We arrived at the advanced fermentation works just past midmorning. It was set behind a high fretvine fence, and it resembled a dense, misshapen clutch of large fretvine orbs clumped together. Glass windows topped each orb, and in the center of each set of windows was a chimney releasing a narrow thread of steam. With the high fretvine fence closely circling this lumpy design, the whole thing had the look of a complex Rathras pastry, the fluffy dough piling out of the dish.

We exited the carriage, and I paid the pilot to wait for us. We showed our heralds at the gate—Ana’s took some time to decipher as she had sorted hers by color—and were admitted inside. The interior of the building was no less strange than the exterior: it was akin to being within a giant hive, with so many interconnected, bulbous chambers with railings and walkways yawning above us, and all teeming with the red coats and tunics of Apoths going about their day.

While we waited for our escort, I studied the Apoths swarming about us, my eyes fluttering as I perused my memories. I saw no face I found familiar, yet I did note many Sublimes. Nearly all of them were axioms, though here and there I did see a spatiast, or a lingua.

Then I noticed something.

“There are no engravers,” I said quietly.

“What’s that?” said Ana.

“There are no engravers here, ma’am. I see many Sublimes and many augmented folk, but no engravers.”

“Hm! Interesting. Perhaps they do things here they don’t want anyone remembering.”

A militis emerged from the crowd, bowed, and asked us to follow. Ana took me by the arm, and we wandered into the sprawling hive.

—

We were brought to a large meeting room that was dominated by a giant, circular table wrought of black stonewood. Tiny mai-lights hung from the rounded walls, and the windows above allowed in the gray, watery light of the stormy skies. In the center of the table sat a strange contraption resembling a great brass teapot, yet it had many leathery tubes protruding from its base, each one ending in a small black nozzle.

“You may sit where you like, ma’am,” said the militis. “And you may feel free to partake of our percolator as you please.”

“Oh, you’ve a percolator!” Ana said. “What might the steams do? I’m afraid I can’t see any labels about the damned hoses, of course.”

“Uh, yes…” said the militis, befuddled. “Well. This first hose here is a stimulant, and this second one is a slight sedative, for agitation. This next one offers focus, and then this fourth is physical relaxation. Finally, that fifth one there on the end is an appetite suppressor. For very long meetings, you see.”

“Excellent!” said Ana. She sat, fumbled for the stimulant hose, popped its black nozzle in her mouth, and gave it a mighty suck. The brass percolator burbled and warbled; then she sat back and exhaled, releasing a roiling cloud of thick steam. “Thank you. We shall wait in comfort, then.”

The militis departed, shutting the door behind him. I watched guardedly as Ana took yet another outrageous suck from the stimulant nozzle.

“Are you sure you wish to be doing that before our meeting, ma’am?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s all very mild,” she said, her lips blooming steam. “These reagents just give your mood a slight nudge. They’re not real moodies, like the ones I prefer. Here. Pass me the relaxant one. Let me give that a suck. And you—you shall take this stimulant one, Din.” She shoved it in my face.

The nozzle smelled faintly of boiled cabbage. I wrinkled my nose. “Not sure I wish to indulge, ma’am.”

“Don’t be such a damned prude. Besides, I heard you yawning. I need you awake and alert for this. Go on! Give it a suck, boy!”

Glowering, I took the hose, vigorously cleaned off the nozzle with a handkerchief, placed it in my mouth, and inhaled.

Suddenly my bones and nerves felt alight with movement, and every object in the room became clearer, like my eyes had grown larger in my head. I put the hose down as I exhaled, and though I could see the fumes leave my lips, I could have sworn they were also swilling about in my skull, urging me to twitch and dance.

“It’s like drinking three clar-teas at once,” I said, awed.

“I’d forgotten your skull was so virginal—perhaps the only goddamned part of you that is anymore, boy. Stop there, then. We don’t want you twitching throughout this, that’d be a damned sigh—”

Then the door opened, and a small parade of officers walked in. I stood as they entered, and Ana wobbily did the same.

The first to walk through the door was Ghrelin, still tall and tremulous, his black eyes anxious, his pale pate gleaming in the light of the mai-lanterns. He glanced at me nervously as he crossed to stand behind one of the chairs on the other side of the table. There were bags about his eyes, and a paperish quality to the gray skin about his cheeks. Perhaps he was the one person here even more tired than I.

After Ghrelin came a woman even taller than him, and indeed almost as tall as I. She moved slowly and confidently, like a person of power accustomed to being waited on, each step careful and precise. Like Ghrelin, her head was almost totally denuded of hair, but she had a Rathras look to her, her features long and aquiline. Her raiment was glorious and glittering, her robes all layered in crimsons and dark yellows, which gave her the look of an autumn leaf from one of the high mountain trees of the inner Empire. As she passed below the light of the glass windows above, I caught a glint from her robes, and saw heralds denoting her a commander-prificto. It was likely she was the highest-ranking officer in the entire facility.

After her came three Apoth commanders, two men and a woman, who followed her in a tight line. I was reminded of wood ducklings swimming after their mother. The three commanders took their places behind the commander-prificto, then turned to look at Ana and me with eyes both watchful and suspicious.

The commander-prificto waited until her people were all in place before giving us a slight bow. “Good morning,” she said, her voice cool and soft. “Thank you for coming. I am Commander-Prificto Kulaq Thelenai, and these are Commanders Biktas, Nepasiti, and Sizeides.”

The three commanders gave us a unified, unsmiling nod.

Commander-Prificto Thelenai extended a hand to Ghrelin. “And I believe you are already acquainted with Immunis Rava Ghrelin…”

A nervous smile from Ghrelin, yet he shot a searching glance at Thelenai, as if to confirm that his smile did not bring reproach. It was in this small gesture that I suddenly felt I had the feel of them: Thelenai was the grand and steely queen of this realm, and he was her scurrying counselor, rushing to invent laws to match her will.

Ana and I bowed and introduced ourselves. “Thank you all for agreeing to this interview on such short notice, ma’am,” said Ana, attempting a sane smile. “We felt the situation demanded a speedy response.”

“Indeed,” said Thelenai somberly. “This incident is one of the most disturbing in recent memory—the sensitive workings of two Iyalets so thoroughly damaged, and here, in this most sensitive of places, at this most difficult of times! We are glad to have the Iudex assist. Please sit.”

Thelenai sat, and her entourage followed suit. I did the same, and Ana plopped into her seat. Yet as we all settled, Commander-Prificto Thelenai’s face was suddenly washed in the light from the windows above, and I saw that the whites of her eyes were stained deeply green, just like Malo’s. There was even a faint stain of green to her lips.

I studied the sight carefully. She was the first imperial person I’d seen as green-stained as a native Pithian. I made a note to ask Ana about it later.

“If we could, ma’am,” Ana said, “I would like to begin by setting some expectations. We have only recently stumbled across these crimes, and we still know very little. Yet we know the Apothetikal Iyalet here is a victim, in a way. So we must question you as victims in order to begin to understand what happened.”

“Of course,” said Thelenai. “But in anticipation of this meeting, Immunis, I have taken the liberty of assembling some information for you…” She waved a hand to one of the commanders, who reached into a satchel and produced a small pile of parchments. “I thought to procure a list of all living officers who have been given access to all the Apoth safes in the Treasury bank in Yarrowdale. It seemed likely pertinent to the crime. I hope I was not untoward in assuming you might want this.”

The commander brought the parchments before Ana, bowed, and returned to his seat. Ana sat for a moment, nonplussed to have one of her requests for information not only exactly predicted, but quickly met.

“Oh,” she muttered. She plucked at the parchments like they were a dish she had not ordered. “Well, ah. This is very good. I had intended to ask for precisely that.”

Thelenai gave a solemn nod, followed by a puff at one of the percolator hoses: the relaxant, unless I was mistaken. “Of course.”

“While we’re on the matter,” said Ana, “I, ah, had also wished to get another bit of information. Specifically, a summary of all reagent and precursor thefts of the past two years, if I could, ma’am.”

“All?” said Thelenai, her breath heavy with fumes. “That is a serious request, for there are many thefts. Yet…I suspect you think this criminal has stolen from us before, Dolabra? Is that it?”

“Exactly so, ma’am. For the severed head this man left for us suggests he has been with the smugglers for some time.”

Thelenai considered it, then gestured to one of her commanders. “Then it shall be done. I will have them sent to your quarters as soon as possible.”

“Oh,” said Ana. She seemed almost disappointed to find them so unwilling to put up a fight. I could have almost sworn I heard her mutter, “Well, fuck.” Then, louder, “Thank you, ma’am! This is very generous.”

“Of course,” said Thelenai again. “We will assist in any way we can. Though I note that these will only indicate what was stolen, and not the culprits. There are, I understand, many smuggling clans in the jungles, and they all seem as slippery as eels. Now…you wished to interview Immunis Ghrelin about the nature of the theft, correct?”

“Correct, ma’am,” said Ana.

Thelenai looked to Ghrelin, who nodded nervously.

“You may proceed,” said Thelenai.

“Excellent,” said Ana.