22. COLDIS
22
COLDIS
The Argentean Judiciary was a bright, airy building with lots of greenery and statues around it. It emphasized community and the good for the society of the city.
The Ferrean Judiciary had gone a different way. The building itself had been built with sharp angles, dark gray, and the windows were long vertical slits that made Col think of violence, a fight with knives or blood running from an open wound. On three sides, it was surrounded by polished walls, stone unless Col was mistaken, and there alone, white pebbles on the ground formed the backdrop for winding black paths that slithered around the Judiciary like arteries carrying poison to the heart.
“This,” Col said, standing in front of the building and grateful that Hyran was patient enough to stand with him and indulge him looking up at the black sun blotter, “is a design choice.”
“We call it the Black House.”
“Of course you do.”
“You don’t like it.”
“If I were a small, wide-eyed Conduit, this would make me feel guilty without having done anything wrong.”
Hyran chuckled. “Did you have many reasons to feel guilty as a small, wide-eyed Conduit?”
“Of course not.” Col stepped forward, making right for the main building entrance, Hyran at his side.
“Col, I don’t believe you.” The Guardian bent forward to whisper into Col’s ear, the warm breath tickling. Col decided he liked it.
“Guardian! Do you mean to accuse me as we walk into this charming lump of lithomanced rock?”
“Oh, not me.” Hyran put his arm around Col’s shoulders. “You are innocence on two feet.”
Col snorted. “You sound a whole lot like Taros. Or Senny. I can’t even decide.”
“That’s…good?”
“Like I said, I can’t decide.”
The doors opened for them. The inside of the Judiciary was pleasantly cool, and the differences to the Argentean Judiciary only continued. The central foyer was spacious, the tiling impressive in its black and white geometry. Above the mosaic floor, a light sculpture hung suspended, rods gleaming brightly and throwing odd and irregular shadows everywhere.
Across the open foyer, a set of two elevators in glass chutes forced Col to look up and see where they went. In his surprise, Col missed the bot approaching them.
“Conduit Coldis and Guardian Hyran. You are expected. Please take the right elevator.”
“Not for people fearing heights,” Col said when they headed toward the elevator. Their shoes made echoey noises on the polished floor.
“Are you afraid of heights?”
Col looked up at the Guardian. “No. Senny has Floated me on more than one occasion. It takes the fear right out of you. Or cuts it deeper I suppose.”
“I see. I was just asking because I would have held you. If you were scared of heights.”
The elevator stood open when they got there, the design pretty even if it was glass and metal. Its floor, too, was a pattern set in black and white.
“You are so kind.” Col stepped right up to the glass and watched as they went up. “The light sculpture is impressive. The twisting light of justice that illuminates every crack in a fa?ade that hides the truth?”
“I’m not sure. But the way you say it sounds plausible, so we should assume that’s the notion one is supposed to take away from it.”
Col nodded before tearing his eyes away from the view. “You make this easy. I should thank you.”
Hyran cocked his head. Col noticed a strand of red hair that had slipped free of his braids.
“You mean I made it too easy for you to come here? Col, I will sling you over my shoulder and run you back to the Tower this moment if that’s what you’re saying.”
“No. Silly Guardian. The custody-ship. You make it easy. And I know it’s difficult on you to make it easy for me. Sharing a suite with other Guardians you don’t know has to be stressful.”
Hyran opened his mouth and closed it. Col saw the muscles in his jaw work before he spoke again.
“Thank you for telling me that. I know you don’t feel the same way I do. I know all of this with my head. Everything else is just telling me your mine.”
The elevator arrived. Col leaned forward and reached up, combed the errant strand back into Hyran’s updo. He had to stand on his toes to do it, and even then, he had to pull the Guardian down by the front of his shirt.
“I am yours. A strand of your hair came loose.”
“Thanks for fixing it.” Hyran’s pupils were wide, drowning out the green, and his lips were pink and inviting.
“I have to go talk to an insurrectionist now. Best you look good for that.”
The mood left Hyran, and his frown and mouth let slip both his fury and frustration.
“Coldis.”
“It will be fine.”
The judiciary agent caved quickly while the AIs were less eager to let Col speak with Alesa. So he pulled rank and given he had brought his Guardian for all the emotional support he might need, the AIs let them through.
“I was hoping they’d not allow you access,” Hyran said, pouting in the waiting room just outside the psionomancer interview office. Refreshments sat on a round table in the center of the room, drinks and plain crackers, and the surveillance tech fed everything into a wall of screens. Hyran had pulled out a chair from the table and glanced at the screens that showed only the interview room, empty for now.
Col took off his blouse to drape it over the back of a chair, revealing a tight-fitting vest below. “Everyone always forgets that fifth rank operatives and up outrank them. Maybe don’t tell my little brother just yet. He wanted to chat with an insurrectionist as well.”
“Is that also something that is normal for the Conduits of Argentea’s Team Three? Talking to violent insurrectionists? Please tell me if yes. I might have to keep you away from insurrectionist activity and focus on med drops and urban agriculture. You should put your blouse back on.”
“After, Hyran. Trust me.”
Col watched Hyran’s face closely, traced the emotions battling along the grooves of the Guardian’s features. The protective instinct alone is riling him, probably also the fear Alesa gets a chance to touch me and force channeling on me. Then the irrational fear that I want Alesa more than I want him.
Col did the only thing he could think to do. He stepped between Hyran’s legs, put his arms around Hyran’s shoulders, pulled him close. Hyran submitted easily, following Col’s demands. Col lifted his Guardian’s head and cupped his cheeks, locking eyes. When Col channeled him actively, Hyran let out a gasp of surprise.
“That man in there is nothing more than a source of information for me. And we need that information. I want to know why they attacked psionomancers and what they are planning to do next.”
“Yes, of course. I know that. If he attacks you, I will be in there in less than a second. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Col was. He didn’t say it. If he did, Hyran would never let him speak with Alesa.
“Thank you, Hyran.”
The observation room, apart from showing the interview room from all angles, was also equipped with excellent sound and recording functionality on multiple wavelengths, even thermal sensors so that nothing at all could be missed. Col steered Hyran to a chair in front of the surveillance wall. The Judiciary-AIs were watching as a matter of cause even though Col doubted anything he got out of Alesa was going to be used by them. Then again, his guilt is clear . Col wished he could stop Hyran from watching, but that was futile.
“Follow my words, Hyran. I never liked Alesa. I might tell him differently to get him to tell me things. Don’t come in there for things he says to me or about me. He’s always had a knack for forcing reactions out of people, but that isn’t what we came here for.”
Hyran’s hands balled into fists on the console. “Uh-huh.”
“I’ll wait for him in there.” Col pointed at a screen.
“Right.”
“He can’t take me away from you, Hyran.”
Hyran looked up at Col with those striking green eyes. “As I said, in my head—fuck. He’s an insurrectionist. All he wants is to take.”
Col leaned forward to kiss his Guardian. “I know. He can’t do that now. Stay here. I know you can do that for me.”
Hyran breathed heavily, and Col felt guilty leaving him there, even if it had to happen. The door to the interview room wanted both his hand scans and an iris scan on top of that. The people in there are dangerous. Of course the Judiciary wants to make sure they stay in there and have no contact with people they shouldn’t. Like me.
The door slid open with barely a noise. Col stepped through, doing his best to calm his heartbeat on the other side.
The interrogation room was bright without being blinding. There were no tables but various seating options in the form of light yellow and blue moldables that Col suspected were set to deflate if a captive threatened violence.
Because the place was meant to be used by psionomancers, it smelled nice, a flowery, calming scent that could be adjusted as the psionomancer needed to make use of their skill easier. Almost fading into the background of the room, a security bot hovered. It adjusted its position when Col walked into the center of his room. These bots are highly effective. I’m safe here.
A flickering of the light announced they were bringing in the captive. Col intentionally didn’t turn to look at the door opposite the one he’d walked in through.
It hummed open. He watched from his periphery as two security bots, those capable of restraining a Guardian, led Alesa inside.
“The minimum distance between yourself and the Conduit is one meter, insurrectionist,” one of the bots said.
Both then hovered back. Not out of the room, of course. Col didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to show it, but he was glad. I wish we had nice bots like these in the Grounds a lot more. He always had an easy enough time finding me back in Argentea.
Col finally turned. He took his time to give Alesa a look-over. He appeared to not have showered in two or three days. They had put him in thin beige clothing, pants, shirt, socks. A collar with a sedative ready to inject had been fitted snugly around his throat. He’d received care for a deep cut on his cheek, and his face was bruised all over, one eye partially swollen shut.
Col smiled, not friendly. “You look good, Alesa.” He took a seat lounging in a moldable in a corner and crossing his legs. “I especially like the collar.”
Alesa let seconds run out without saying a word. He sat, somewhat reluctantly, but still picking a moldable quite close to Col.
“All that time spent running after you, and yet here you are. You came to me.”
“I needed to see you one last time, I suppose. The once revered and celebrated leader of the Agri-Team. You are neither celebrated nor revered anymore. I wonder what the Judiciary-AIs will decide for you.”
Alesa smiled like all the many times Col had had to tell him not to call him by his first name, as if it were all a game with certain outcome, as if he were indulging Col, as if he knew something Col didn’t.
“You think with all the limitations of a Conduit, Coldis. That’s why I’m doing this. Conduits aren’t meant to be operatives or head a team like you do. You are meant to provide comfort to a Guardian, a strong Guardian. We’ll change things, Coldis. It will soon be a lot easier for everyone like you.”
Col decided not to correct Alesa about how to address him, for once. “Easier? How so?”
Alesa bought the fake interest and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “All I ever wanted was to make things easy for you. Did you know I liked you ever since I first saw you? Ah, you must have been in Year Five or Six at the time. I wanted you, and I would have made you feel so good, so right, but then you had to knee me when I tried.” His nostrils flared. “You’re just meant to channel. Pair every Guardian with a Conduit, and we’ll be strong enough to finally deal with every fucking Hound out there. We’ll rule this world once and for all, and we’ll rule past the walls, like kings and queens, Conduits our concubines.”
He might actually be broken in the head. Col had heard Anandas talk about winter kings, but those were decided on by the Hounds. Doesn’t seem to be what he has in mind.
Col looked at one of the security bots. “Has he been drugged? Those words are made-up gibberish.”
That pissed Alesa right off. “You think I’m fucking drugged?” he hissed even as the bot confirmed he wasn’t. “You just don’t know anything, Coldis. You don’t know how good it can feel to have a Guardian who takes care of you. You should have been on my team long ago, but you’re so stubborn, and you always had that idiot Senlas with you.” He calmed, settled back in his seat. “What’s it like, out there in the Grounds, with no Op-AI to run things, hmm? I bet you’re glad for the protection of a strong Guardian now. That could have been me, Coldis. I would have been good to you.”
Col smiled. “Oh, it’s not as bad as all that. You overestimate the effect you have on things. You should know, we Conduits will sometimes overstate the effect a Guardian has on us. Perhaps reevaluate some of the interactions you had with Conduits in that light.”
Alesa’s mouth became a grimace of displeasure. “You know no better, but you will. I have claimed you as my prize, and I will have you when this is all done.”
Col chuckled even as his hair stood on end. “But, Alesa, you are not leaving this place. You are an insurrectionist who killed both Guardians and Conduits, not to mention the regulars that fell to your whims. I doubt you’ll see daylight again.”
Alesa had always been smug, but the way he relaxed back in his seat and stretched out his legs now, it chilled Col like a wintry wind.
“Maybe. Maybe not. You are not as safe as you think, behind these walls. And as you’ve seen, AIs can be killed. You will leave this city with me, Coldis. You will be mine. That is certain. Accept it.”
“You’re talking about the friend of yours you snuck into the Argentean Grounds during Covenant Week.”
Alesa flinched, smugness draining, but he caught himself quickly enough.
Col cocked his head. “What? You have nothing to say to that?”
“You don’t know anything.”
“Then enlighten me. Why are all the Ferrean psionomancers dead?”
This time, he didn’t flinch like he had before, but his brows drew tight, and he clenched his jaw. This isn’t news to him. He knew.
“Conduits shouldn’t worry themselves over anything other than serving their Guardian. Like I said, you don’t know anything.”
“I know exactly where to find you should I have need of you ever again.” Col gestured to the bots. “Take him away.”
“You can feel it already. That you’re supposed to be mine. I know you can feel it!”
The bots hovered closer. “Get up, insurrectionist.”
Col knew Alesa was going to lunge before he did it. The bots grabbed him mid-move, but he managed to grab on to Col’s leg. Col reacted. He punched Alesa in the face the way he’d punched training dummies thousands of times.
The dummies’ noses never exploded in a spray of red, but Alesa’s did. He yelped in pain. It was one of the more satisfying sounds Col had ever heard in his life.
Alesa let go of Col, and the bots took hold of him.
“Coldis! You little—”
One of the bots twisted Alesa’s arm, making him scream.
Col decided to ignore him, although he stayed to watch him being dragged away like a sack of seeds. He went limp halfway through, the drugs in his collar kicking in.
When the captive entrance shut, Col hit the door lock to the observation room.
Hyran was standing there, his body blocking the door, arms raised and hands white-knuckling the frame. The Guardian was ash gray in the face and sweating.
“Col,” he croaked.
Hyran only relaxed when Col leaned in and hugged his Guardian.