To assign bla in the wake of tragedy is natural. Indeed, n are often more interested in identifying the responsible party than they are in addressing the root cause of the calamity in question. Guidance on the subject varies across cultures, but most agree that the responsible party is the one who, by action of their will, might have prevented that harm from occurring.
This is all very well for such clear-cut things as murder, gross negligence, et-cetera. But not all tragedies are made with such square corners as these. What of the good n who strive their utmost and fail, their sterling intentions sowing disaster in their wake?
For there are these n, who live in a more perfect world than the rest of us inhabit. They all walk forward blindly into the abyss of our imperfections, their failure obvious to all else save those blinded by optimism, love, or so horrid amalgam thereof.
Is it we who bear the responsibility for failing to be who they thought we were? Or is it that we might have shattered their gilded illusions, and through that petty harm prevented one much greater?
It presses on as I watch the far shore of Ardalt, my desk bereaved of letters with only ill news to take its place. I wonder if there was more I might have done, or if our paths bend towards the sa destination regardless of our struggle. Was his illusion mine to shatter? My hand stayed itself, unwilling, and now it has no-one to whom it may write its sorrow.
- Leire Gabarain, Annals of the Sixteenth Star, 672.
Michael pulled the chair out carefully, his fingers brushing against the tal tubing of its fra as gently as he could muster. It scraped back along the airships tal decking; he set his tray down on the table and sat.
Its like a very bad dance, Charles said, grinning as he lazily swirled the dregs of his drink. And one you never bothered to learn the steps for.
Ive had all of a day to get used to this, Michael retorted, inching his chair closer to the table. It resisted, with his weight on it, so he pulled just a bit harder - only to be rewarded with a pained groan as it deford under his fingers. He looked down at it and sighed. Antolin said there are a few military movent training courses he can set up for , specifically designed to acclimate new potentes to their strength.
Sobriquet raised an eyebrow, swallowing her mouthful of food. I wouldnt count on him for too much, she said. You heard him. Between the advance on Is and putting a bow on Leik, hes occupied past the point of sanity. She prodded at her lunch idly. And then on top of that theres managing the Safid front, quiet as it is currently. Cross-strait logistics. Whatever dostic issues hes expected to attend to back in ndian.
The man needs to learn to delegate, Emil said. Theres only so much one man can do, even with a competent staff. Things have been slowing down administratively the farther away from ndian we travel, and its because the ndiko have an odd aversion to field commanders.
Its not so odd. Theyve been operating within easy reach of their capital for hundreds of years, Sobriquet said. Although it is annoying. Ive heard nothing but vague estimates concerning our titable for Is.
Emil nodded, rifling through a pile of papers in front of him. They havent said anything firm, but well likely be there within a week. Supply orders for Leik take a drop about three days from now, Im assuming thats when the bulk of their forces move out.
Sharp, Vernon noted. It agrees with what little Ive overheard; theyve been careful to keep actual strategy well-protected from eavesdroppers.
So weve got around three days to find out who killed Galen, as well as how that could tie into a threat against Michael. Sobriquet tapped her fingers against her chin, then looked at Emil. Antolin suspects that they had a man on the inside, probably soone with the supply convoys.
Emil turned back to his stack of papers, pulling out a few folded sheets. Convoys are normally scheduled from Estu a few days in advance, he said. If they ca in because they heard Galen was captured - itd be tight, but doable. I can check to see if anyone pulled strings to get a schedule change after the battle for Leik. He frowned, then looked up. If they were already in the camp, though, well need other ways to ferret them out.
Ill talk with the artifices, Charles said, rising from his seat. The five dead jailors were all artifices who pulled the occasional shift in the motor pool, the boys are taking it rough. Ill ask if anyones heard news.
Vernon leaned back in his chair, taking a drink from his mug. Ill keep my ears open, he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. I may find so excuses to hang about near the contractors barracks.
Michael looked between the three n, feeling sowhat dazed. You know, Im not sure what I can do to help, he said.
Not a damned thing, Charles snorted. If this is really all about you - which seems annoyingly possible - then the last thing we want is you flouncing about poking your well-bred nose into things. It spooks people.
Sobriquet smiled and squeezed his hand. Help Emil, she said. Youve got a head for paperwork.
Emil looked up and nodded. Sure, could use another set of eyes. Two, if youre also looking to occupy yourself.
No, Ive got other plans, Sobriquet sighed. Plans that are probably going to leave with a splitting headache.
Four-four-two, Michael said, feeling a bizarre mix of relief and hopelessness as he placed his final sheet on the table. Fuel. Another hour had passed since his objection, but now the table was piled high with neat stacks of paper - proof of their long labor that had produced what Emil insisted was a good result.
Michael looked disconsolately at the papers. Antolin seed so sure that it was one of the contractors that breached security, he said.
Antolin wants it to be a contractor, Emil said. Because if it isnt, then he has to start looking at the other possibilities. Why do you think he told you to keep this quiet? What do you think would happen if he started questioning the loyalty of his n on the eve of our push forward to Is?
Nothing good, Michael muttered.
Emil snorted. To put it mildly. It isnt sothing he would do without the ravens own proof to back it up - hence the rigor of our analysis.
Michael let out a long-suppressed sigh and pushed back in his chair. So how do you propose we tell him that it wasnt the contractors?
We dont, Emil said. He raised his hand; in it, he held a single sheet of paper. Youre out of records, but Im not.
A mont passed before Michael sat up with enough force to make his long-suffering chair creak, his eyes locking on the leftover sheet of paper. What does it say? he asked.
Emil raised a finger. One mont, he said. Boss, weve got sothing for you.
An eyeblink later, Sobriquets avatar was floating over the table. It was less-distinct than usual, its edges fuzzy and hard to discern. Yes? she said, weariness evident even through the distorted tones of her projected speech. This had better be good, Ive still got ten cells left to contact along the main transport arteries.
You tell us, Emil said. This might be our convoy. Michael hasnt read it yet. Figured youd want to watch while he did.
Yes, fine, Sobriquet said, waving a blurred arm at the two n. Get on with it.
Emil handed the page to Michael, who turned it over and began to read. Three-seven-four, bedding, linens and bandages. Left Estu late on Arborday. He paused, looking up at Sobriquet; she had drifted close to him, fixing him with an unsettling intensity of focus.
That shifted sothing, she said. Read the rest.
Michael looked down at the neat, spare writing on the page, furrowing his brow. Theres not much to it. Five trucks, plus two for an escort. Dispatched by the Third Supply Division, with civilian crew from the New Lands Transport Group-
Thats it, Sobriquet said, cutting him short; her avatar drifted slightly, as if a breeze were blowing that only she could feel. They did a good job covering their tracks, Ill give them that. If they had tried to keep it secret, it would have been easier to see - a few people holding on to a burning truth. She turned to face Michael, giving him a small nod.
But they were smarter than that. Half-truths and equivocations are harder to spot than lies, they round all the sharp edges away. People know the truth of a matter but miss what it ans, and so the secret is less dear, burns less vividly in my sight. She rolled her neck, and the avatar shimred. But youve touched their spiderweb directly, and set it moving. This is it.
She turned to Emil. What can you tell about that transport company?
Its a big one, he said, standing to shift through a stack of papers. Probably a third of our total volu, judging by how frequently I see their na attached to shipnts. They stand out because of that na, its apparently hard to translate well from ndiko and we thought they were two different companies for a while- He shook his head. Thats neither here nor there. Unfortunately, theyre involved in so many places that it wont narrow our search much - unless youve got a direction?
This last was directed to Sobriquet; she nodded - then floated downward, seeming to lose so of her solidity. Ill - damn. Hold on, Ill co to et you.
Are you okay? Michael asked.
Her outline fuzzed away, leaving only her voice echoing faintly in the cramped airship cabin. Been projecting as far as I can reach all day, she said. Just need a break.
Emil and Michael exchanged a glance.
Handy, Emil observed. To know which of a hundred things is the secret youre looking for.
She is one of the Eight, Michael said, leaning back in his chair. But handy is probably a dangerous term to toss around where Sera is concerned.
Emil laughed, shaking his head. Ill have to hope shes too tired to be angry. This whole ti weve been pushing papers around, shes been shaking down resistance cells from the highlands to the coast, asking if they saw anything out of the ordinary.
I doubt they did, if the kidnappers were posing as a standard convoy. Michael sat up straight, stretching his back with a wince. Then again, who knows. Ill never bet against her when it cos to finding whats hidden.
A groan of tal sounded as Sobriquet opened the bulkhead door, stepping inside. Why, thank you, she said. Although in this case so help would be warranted. Whoever did this- She broke off, frowning. They took steps to hide what they did that go far beyond anything Ive ever seen. I could scarcely do better.
Emil sat up in his chair. You think they were planning with you in mind.
It does begin to feel that way, she agreed. Which carries a whole raft of troubling implications. Her eyes strayed to Michael and stuck there; the concern she felt was strident in his mind, clear and deep.
Michael shook his head. You were saying before about a direction.
There should be a - confluence of interaction, for lack of a better word, tied to their arrival in camp. Information exchanged with the guards, people that saw their faces, little truths that link them with people here. She pressed her lips together. Except I cant see any of that. Theyve taken steps to remove it.
A shiver traced its way down Michaels spine. Okay, he said. Where does that leave us?
With a need to speak to so of the camps regular guards, she replied. Well have to figure out who would have been in a position to interact with them, then work from there.
Michael nodded. I think I know soone who can help.
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