Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
Hallie gave up trying to see where they were.
The rear end of the van, where she and Girard were seated, didn’t have any windows and trying to peer out of the windscreen, some distance in front of her, was making her feel dizzy.
Instead, she looked over Girard’s shoulder while he viewed the photos he’d taken of the wall of the house.
“No one recognised the building?” she asked, when he’d been through the images once and was starting again.
“No. But if it’s a tactical map, like Frollo and Rojas seemed to believe, then it’s not going to read like a normal floor plan.
And looking at a building plan like this is very different from walking through it.
All I can tell is that it’s one floor of a building, with at least three, perhaps four, rooms. Impossible to tell the scale as well. ”
“So we don’t know if we’re looking for a garden shed or a palace?” Hallie asked, trying for a lighter tone.
“Right. Or even if it’s in Daydawn. I mean, you’d think so, as that’s where the map was drawn.
” Girard’s voice trailed away. He sighed as he put the phone away.
“Best leave it to Isoud and Brennus to work their magic. I think Brennus has some amazing program he can run which might get us a match. And Isoud is much better at looking at abstract data and understanding it.”
“And until then we’re doing security patrols?” Hallie asked, wrinkling her brow as she tried to think what that might entail beyond walking in circles.
“Something like that, yes,” Girard said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “It is mostly walking around. There are also some security protocols we need to verify and we need to keep our eyes out for anything unusual.”
“It’s the Conclave building,” Hallie pointed out, in a dry tone. “I have a feeling I might not be the best judge of what is usual or unusual.” After all, she was barely used to the fact that she was hochlen.
Girard grinned at her. “You’d be surprised.”
Before Hallie could ask any more questions, the van drew to a stop and the side door opened, the investigators with them spilling out into daylight.
Hallie followed, took one step to the side to make sure she wasn’t blocking the door, and then just stared.
She’d caught a glimpse of the Conclave building the day before, when she and Girard had been on their way to Zurine’s dress shop. It had seemed impressive then. It was breathtaking up close.
The structure soared overhead, almost touching the trails of clouds in the pale blue sky.
It was made of gleaming glass and polished metal which sat somewhere between silver and gold, formed of sinuous curves that seemed to suggest the movement of water.
From their vantage point, Hallie thought they were at the side of the building.
There was a wide swathe of open space around the building, with paths marked by different coloured stone and gravel, the space made less stark by wooden benches that echoed the curves of the building, and large wooden planters.
The planters looked to Hallie to contain fully mature trees that would normally soar to the roof line of any building they were next to, but which here merely emphasised how large the Conclave building was.
She found herself distracted by the sheer variety of trees from tall, spiky fronds of deepest green that Hallie associated with hotter climates to graceful drapes of pale, almost silvery, green.
There were no planters in front of what she thought might be the official entrance to the building, which was several storeys of tempered glass that protruded out in a lazy semi-circle bounded by a wide spread of flat ground that continued the several different colours of paths and a wide swathe of roadway.
It was easy to imagine the sleek cars of the Conclave members driving up to the front of the building to offload their important cargo.
Through the soaring glass front she could see what looked like a fountain except that the fountain was made of molten gold. No. Not solid pouring gold, but dozens and dozens of gold baubles of all different sizes, spilling from the high, high ceiling to the floor in an endless, majestic stream.
“Is that real gold?” she asked Girard.
“The installation? Some of it is, I think,” he said, as if she’d just asked about something mundane and ordinary like office supplies.
And reminding her of just how different their lives were.
It didn’t sound as though he considered vast quantities of gold being used for decoration as wasteful, whereas all Hallie could think of was the unimaginable extravagance.
“It’s powered by magic and technology combined.
The bubbles fall, are gathered in the pool at the bottom and then sent back up in a tube behind the scenes. ”
“But someone decided to use real gold in, what did you call it? Installation?” Hallie still couldn’t wrap her mind around that idea.
She’d been inside hochlen residences. She knew they were full of wealth.
But that was mostly in the form of decoration or art.
Something to make a home more beautiful or more comfortable.
She had some limited sympathy with that, having felt the difference when Rosalia had moved in and begun improving Hallie’s living space.
Somehow having beauty in a home didn’t seem as wasteful - that was the only word her mind would come up with - as this endless display.
“It’s considered to be art,” Girard said, sounding as if he didn’t agree. “So it’s an art installation. There are a few other large-scale sculptures in the building, but that’s the biggest.”
Hallie wasn’t quite sure what to say. The television images of the Conclave and its building that she had seen had been of the meeting chamber, which was impressive.
Any other broadcasts from the Conclave building had been interviews with various Conclave members against backdrops of marble walls or the ocean.
She understood the wish of the Conclave and its members to project power and wealth and authority.
But she’d had no idea about the golden bubbles.
The rest of the investigators were moving away from the vans, heading towards the building and she followed them, keeping pace with Girard.
“Does it have a name?” she asked. She seemed to remember that a lot of sculptures were given names.
“It does. It’s something like Enduring, or another word like that,” Girard answered.
“You don’t like it?” She found that interesting.
“The atrium is essentially a huge greenhouse. One of the original proposals was to have a forest in there. I really liked that idea,” Girard told her.
“That does sound beautiful,” Hallie said.
They made their way between two of the planters and Hallie saw she’d been right about the scale of the trees.
The planters were almost the same length as one of the vans, the trees soaring overhead.
The planters they walked between had cherry trees, their blossoms scenting the air.
Hallie was about to comment that it was not the season for cherry blossom when she caught the hint of magic in the air and realised why all the trees she could see were in full leaf, or bloom, despite it being winter in Daydawn.
Someone had been using magic to keep the trees looking their best. Like the golden bubbles, it didn’t seem the best use of magic to her.
But this was high city, and more than that, this was the Conclave building.
She supposed that words like practical and sensible didn’t apply.
And this was her world now. It didn’t feel real, the sense of displacement and disconnect she’d had so often over the past few days returning.
She had a feeling that she would never be able to go back to low city.
Not even when her mother’s ambitions had been curbed.
It made practical sense for her to be in high city or midtown, closer to the investigators’ offices, and she liked the idea of being closer to Girard.
But she was surprised how painful it was to think she would never be able to go back there to live.
Low city was an unforgiving place for most. And yet it had been her home, where she’d grown, where she’d built a life, had a job.
“Are you alright?” Girard asked as they reached a pair of plain wooden doors into the building.
“I’m fine. Just thinking,” Hallie said, trying to laugh.
“This must all seem very strange. I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Once the Conclave meetings are over, I hope we’ll get a chance to slow down for a little while, and you can get more oriented.”
“I’ll adapt,” Hallie told him, and meant it. She didn’t have a choice.
With that promise ringing in her ears she followed him through the doors and into the home of the Conclave.
They had walked into a reception area that reminded Hallie of the investigators’ offices.
Even though this was a side entrance, and unlikely to be used by any Conclave member, it was still an impressive space.
Their boots thudded onto wooden floors that were highly polished, the ceiling overhead rising at least three storeys, with balconies from the upper storeys looking out over the reception area.
There was a slender, elderly hochlen woman behind a large block of wood that served as a desk.
She was giving each of the tactical team and investigators a hard look as they filed past her, through another set of double doors and then through a single door that led to what seemed to be some kind of meeting room, except there were no tables.
There were chairs stacked up by the walls and a large wall screen that Rojas was standing next to.
The tac team ignored the chairs, standing in a loose grouping at one side of the room so they could all see the screen. The investigators gathered at the other side, everyone facing forward as the director joined Rojas.