When the hands of the clock had nearly reached midnight, I knocked at the door of the mansion's guest room. "Co in," said a familiar voice.
"Excuse ."
When I opened the door, Bruno Belmondo was waiting for . Since Grandfather had been invited to the Ritual of Sacred Return as a guest, I was having him stay at my house, a mansion administered by the Federation Governnt.
We'd lived as family, long ago, but now we were a host and her guest. The thought made an indescribable emotion threaten to well up inside , and I gently pushed it down.
"You were out quite late."
Grandfather was just hanging up his overcoat. He slled faintly of alcohol.
Drinking was one of his many pastis.
"Yes, I was with an acquaintance. We had a pleasant ti," he explained simply.
He wouldn't tell who he'd t or what they'd talked about.
It had always been that way. Grandfather never said much about himself. Was it due to his position as the Information Broker, or was it— "Grandfather, what's...?"
I'd noticed sothing that concerned . On the table beside Grandfather, there was a half-empty bottle of water and sothing that looked like a dicine packet.
"Oh, it's my blood pressure dication. It's nothing to worry about." "Grandfather? Are you sure you should be drinking?"
"...I'd rather you didn't ntion it to my doctor." A little uncomfortable,
Grandfather lightly raised one hand in a gesture of refusal.
It felt as if it had been a long ti since I saw him do sothing that mischievous.
"And? What did you need?" Grandfather asked, as I hesitated in the doorway. "Is it about the ceremony tomorrow? If so, I really do intend to—"
"No, I know. You'd never abandon your mission."
Even if danger was bearing down on him, he'd prioritize the world's stability. That was how Bruno Belmondo the Information Broker lived. I understood that better than anyone.
"I'm sorry. I know I'm causing trouble for you," Grandfather said, giving a faint smile.
"No, it's no trouble." After all, you're family, I started to say, but I promptly realized I wasn't qualified to anymore.
Silence fell. There were other questions I should ask, really, but the words wouldn't co. Grandfather gestured to a nearby chair, encouraging to sit.
"...You know everything, Grandfather," I blurted out. It was just a fact. "You know about politics, finance, culture, and art. Sotis you know futures even the Oracle can't see."
He probably knew things the Federation Governnt and I didn't know. And so... "I suspect you know what's going to happen tomorrow, don't you?" I stared down at my hands. "It's true, isn't it? If you are the all-knowing Information Broker, you know which way the world will tilt. That isn't all; you even know about those of us who will live in it..."
"Noel."
At the sound of my na, I looked up. Grandfather was smiling at gently. He put his index finger to his lips. As I sat there, still and silent, he lowered himself into a chair at the table. The dim orange light threw shadows across his face.
Finally, polishing his usual cane with a cloth, Grandfather began to speak quietly. "I journeyed for a hundred years. In the most remote deserts and snowy mountains, I lived through the idle rumors you hear at run-down taverns. I discovered the sunken ruins of an ancient city, then found that an identical city had already been depicted in a certain best-selling novel. Several unknown species I found in the heart of a jungle fifty years ago now appear in picture encyclopedias for elentary school students. Items of knowledge are isolated points," he told . "In the space of a century, those points ford a line, becoming what the world considers common knowledge."
That was how he'd lived as the Information Broker, and how he'd interacted with the world as a Tuner. Long before I was sent to him to be fostered, Grandfather had been traveling the globe, accumulating knowledge, then returning that knowledge to the world as the occasion arose.
"I know things. I know everything—but within the boundaries the world has drawn up for ."
I hadn't been expecting that repudiation.
Grandfather knew everything, but...
"What humans know will never grow beyond what the world has established for them."
Grandfather was aware that his wisdom had limits.
"You an there are things even the Information Broker doesn't know?" I asked.
He gazed into the distance—out the window, beyond the pall of night, to bygone days. It was probably a view I knew nothing of. "Once, my travels took to a forbidden territory. While there, I made a choice. Should I know 'the world,' or everything else? I chose the latter."
What he was saying seed very abstract. However, if I could believe his words, Grandfather had once chosen to know about everything except the world. From another perspective, he was saying he'd given up on knowing the world.
What "world" did he an?
"I may have said a bit too much. Liquor really should be taken in moderation."
With a little smile, Grandfather wrapped up his story. He'd never actually told if he knew what was going to happen at tomorrow's ceremony.
But his story was the answer to my question. He'd said that Bruno Belmondo didn't know everything about the world.
Why had he done that? If it had been the Ace Detective asking, what answer would he have given her? My fingers tightened around my phone.
"Now then, children should be in bed around this ti," Grandfather said, getting to his feet. He patted my head gently.
"...Honestly. I'm not a child."
He only did that at tis like this—no, Grandfather had always treated like a child. I didn't know whether that frustrated or made happy; I just stood there for a while, under his big palm.
The coolness of the wet towel he'd placed on my forehead when I was in bed with a cold. Cara film with sights from around the world on it. The warm hand that had held mine and led along busy streets when I was small.
Rembering these traces of Grandfather, I squeezed my eyes shut.
"I'm sorry to disturb you when you're tired." Rising from my chair, I nodded to him, then turned to go.
"Noel."
Just as I reached the door, Grandfather called to . "Do as you see fit. We are humans of flesh and blood."
I didn't have a good response for that. "Good night," I told him, then closed the door.
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