9. N #2
He had read enough of Nora’s transcripts to suggest that while her world might be poor in magic, it appeared rich in just about everything else.
Whoever controlled her controlled access to that.
Haldeen was in no mood to give up his advantage.
He just needed to figure out how to do that and keep his head.
He needed Triana’s knowledge to hold his place, and he needed to be the sole custodian of that knowledge.
His ambitions regarding her world also weighed heavily, which again required him to have what she knew, and for only him to have it.
His stomach churned and acid rose in his throat. He rubbed his eyes, and reached for a little dish of chalk that would settle his stomach. Curious that he’d placed it next to the Farspeaker.
He had just taken the spoonful in a cup of water, when he saw the outer office alert flash. Someone desired entrance. He shook his head. What now?
He slipped out of the inner office and sealed the door using the gem.
Returning to his desk, he waved his hand over the gem that controlled the door, opening it remotely.
The physician entered. He tried to remember her name, and failed.
She was reasonably attractive, more so than his wife, less so than Triana’s tutor.
“Ummm, yes?” He suspected he knew why she was there. He’d prefer to put this meeting off, until he could get some sleep and get his thoughts together. “Perhaps an appointment later?”
“Please, my lord,” she responded. “I thought it best to see you discreetly, to give you my conclusions, before I make my formal report.”
He could hear the nervousness in her voice. He made a “come in” gesture, opening the door and extending his hand as an invitation to enter.
She gave him a tremulous little smile and came into the office. He gestured for her to sit on the couch facing his desk, while he went behind it. He tried to anticipate how she would begin and what he would say. He felt his stomach clench tight with tension.
She smoothed her dress nervously, and twitched her sleeves down over her wrists as she sat.
He noticed that she seemed very well dressed for this time of day. Odd. He put that thought aside for now to focus on her words. He wished he could remember her name. He should have written it down.
“My lord,” she began, “as you know, the woman, Trey-ana, has been my patient, and as you directed, I conducted examinations on her.” Haldeen nodded, wearily certain he knew where this was headed.
“Go ahead,” he said.
She took a deep breath. “First, the contagion she came down with is likely something she contracted here. A child’s disease for us. Harder hitting for her, as she has no protection for it … her kind don’t get apparently were never exposed to it.”
She took a deep breath, moving to the meat of the matter.
“As I told you, my examinations revealed extensive use of body-sculpting magic on her, much of which was done as a child. This violates both our laws and our codes of ethics. As a body-sculptor, I would never attempt a fraction of this on anyone. Even worse to do it to a child. Once again,
I must tell you, as a body-sculptor, I am required to report evidence of abuse of my art.”
Haldeen felt his patience slip. “And so?”
She firmed her chin, and looked directly at him. He realized too late that he had forced the issue. My day for it. One damned misstep after another.
“My lord,” she said, “I told you agreed to hold off on reporting the matter pending an investigation. I have completed my investigation. My conclusions are that she shows evidence of cruel and extreme body modification surgery, much of which was performed on her as a child.
The techniques are different from what we do here … they’re barbarous. I cannot see any evidence of this surgery being performed on her here, but I still must report them.”
He took a deep breath. “So, it wasn’t done … here, in our city.” He hoped she took the hint, and held to his course … leaving out the bit about the other world.
She knitted her brows, uncertain where he was leading her.
“No, ‘here’ as in, in this world.” She hurried a bit, rushing to complete her report to him.
“I found a way to report good news. No one here did it. She came with these injuries. No one here can be blamed. The review panel will see her scars and what was done to her, and will conclude this had to have happened before she came here. Before she came to our world.”
Her words tripped over each other as she rushed to get them out.
“Ahh, that’s good news,” he responded. Stupid cow.
Once she opens her mouth, then the entire world will know I have a girl from another world …
and if one can come … then others will go.
It will be the panic all over again. On top of it all, the cat will be well and truly out of the bag, and what I have will become public knowledge.
“Yes,” she agreed quickly. “The interrogators can be … enthusiastic, when ferreting out crime, and we all have things we’d rather not confess.” She blushed a bit, and stopped quickly. “Anyway, it didn’t happen here, so no one here needs to be involved.”
He smiled. “Of course. For the best.” He paused, looking down for a moment while he gathered his thoughts.
“Now that we have that sorted out. I’m glad you’ve reached such an excellent conclusion.”
He let the smile fade, as something had just occurred to him.
“With that out of the way, can we see if perhaps a small delay, enough to review your conclusions?”
He doubted the gambit would work. He has used it once before to buy this much time.
She brought him down in flames. “No, my lord. I have let this go longer than I should. My failure to report will become a matter of consequence if I hold off any longer.”
He did his best to shrug, as though unconcerned. “Of course.” He paused, trying to make his next question as casual as he could. “And so, they are expecting you this morning.”
She shook her head. “No, my lord. I came here first, to let you know what I had concluded and to give you the good news … that there should be no inquiry.”
No one knew she had come here. He saw a way out, a way to preserve his secrets, a way to keep the information secret.
“That’s excellent,” he said. He felt his gut tense as he made a small gesture that turned off the ambient alarms in his study.
Now, anyone could scry him or perform magic and he wouldn’t know.
But, those same alarms would also fail to sense his use of magic.
He made his voice sound as calm as he could, though his heart jumped in his chest. “How does this process work exactly? Procedurally, I mean. Will we have to give evidence, appear before an inquest or something?”
He saw her relax a bit, and lean back into the couch.
“No, my lord … ” she began. She started to describe the process for reporting Triana’s surgeries, emphasizing her own innocent discovery of the scars.
She talked through the reporting procedures, and the steps the investigators would follow.
He nodded his head, keeping his eyes on hers.
He rested his elbow on the desk, with his thumb under his chin and his fingers curled to cover his mouth.
He nodded along as she spoke, describing the reporting procedures to him while assuring him they would see no personal trouble from this.
He pretended to follow the conversation, nodding whenever she paused.
Inside, he felt desperation rise. He seriously considered killing her …
the first time he had ever considered taking a life, at least with his own two hands, then gave it up as a bad job.
He might use magic to smother her, or even strangle her.
He was larger and stronger, but older and out of shape.
There was also the matter of what to do with the body.
Take it through the complex to his lab? Hide it in Triana’s world?
He tuned in enough to hear her describing the appeals process and the fines for withholding information, when inspiration struck.
Damned if he could remember her name! “Um, physician” … he interrupted.
“Yes, my lord.” She looked a bit flushed, sitting up and leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, clearly vexed by his inattention.
“I’ve explained how this all works. I’m sorry. I can see you are distracted. I’ll let myself out.”
She looked around her for her bag, and leaned forward at the waist preparing to stand.
“No,” he replied. “A passing headache. I’ll confess this is all a bit complicated, and I’m a little tired. I’m glad you are here to walk me through this.” This is taking too long. “How long does it take for all of this to be resolved?”
“I explained that,” she said, her voice still flat.
He nodded. “You were a body-sculptor until the king shut down the practice? Expending too much resource?”
She looked confused. “Yes, my lord. But, I don’t see ….”
He stood and walked towards the hidden place in his bookcase. “Expensive. Lots of rations. Enough to buy real meat … cow, sheep … back when we still could. Nice home. Nice husband. All that went with it.”
“Yes, my lord. My husband and I lived near the King’s Palace. Many highborn customers.”
He didn’t have to turn to see how she felt about that. He could hear the bitterness in her voice.
“And now you tend to scrapes and bruises, manage the contraceptives we put in the workers’ food, and sort out the occasional sickness.”
“Yes, my lord.” Her voice had hardened, angry and flat. “I’m aware of how far I’ve fallen.”
He smiled. She had given it to him on a plate.
“You can rise again, ummm” … what was her damned name? “Get back to where you were.”
“What? How?” she asked.
He twisted the spine of the book that hid the small safe and put his thumb on the spell-plate. It opened with a click and he reached inside and pulled out a pair of leather wallets, one larger than the other.
He went to the table and pulled up a chair.
“With this.” He reached into the smaller wallet and removed four small gold bars.
He set them down in a stack, letting them clink together with the heavy, sweet sound that only gold has.
“My lord,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s gold.”
“Yes,” he replied.
“It’s illegal to own. King’s monopoly.”
He smiled. “And yet, here we are.”