Chaos Space - Marianne de Pierres [44]
Amaury’s mouth twisted. A life-weary smile. ‘Would that it were merely the harmless politicking of a few power-mongers! It is worse than that and more pervasive. Scolar has been damaged in some way—our ability to think and debate has been compromised.’
Thales stepped away now, confused. He had been so captivated by the man’s gently subdued manner and yet Amaury’s latest suggestions bordered on paranoia.
‘That is implausible!’ And yet even as he said it Thales felt a growing empathy with Amaury’s words.
The old man perceived the doubt in Thales’s eyes and straightened his robe with infinite dignity. ‘I cannot say what is happening here—Scolar knows I’ve had time enough to ponder it. But I am heartened by the knowledge that you are not blinded to it, and that somehow you have escaped it.’ He gave a heartbreaking smile. ‘They put you in with me, Thales, to frighten you and to destroy my hope. But they have in fact accomplished the opposite. I am overjoyed that I finally have a use for this.’ Amaury reached inside his robe and produced a tiny container. Inside was a minute lump of a putty-like substance. He pressed the container into Thales’s hand. ‘This was smuggled to me by one of my advocates. It will dissolve most materials when wet. You will know when to use it.’ He retied his waist sash as the tramp of boots sounded outside their door.
Thales held the object in his open palm. ‘But why have you not—’
‘It was not the way. They would have caught me. I am an old man. But you ...’ He did not finish. Instead, he closed Thales’s fingers over the container and pushed his arm down.
A moment of silence passed between them, broken by the continuing trample of booted feet in the corridor. The door swung open and a group of Brown Robes entered. One of them crossed the room and knelt in front of the old gentleman.
‘Eminence Villon,’ said the guard and bowed his head.
Villon? Thales’s insides were gripped by something painful. Amaury Villon?
‘Forgive me.’ The guard stood and held out a set of restraints.
Amaury shook his head sadly and placed his wrists in them. ‘I am sorry—I cannot find it in myself to forgive you. But ultimately it is not my forgiveness that you need.’
Unhappily, the guard triggered the restraints and they wrapped around the old man’s wrists.
The action broke Thales free from his state of shock. ‘Where are you taking him?’ he demanded.
But the Brown Robes ignored him.
He grabbed at one of them. ‘Answer me! Where do you take him? Sophos Mianos will hear of this! The Pre-Eminence will know!’
‘Thales, be calm now,’ said Amaury as the Brown Robe thrust Thales away. ‘The Pre-Eminence already know. It is their doing.’ He let himself be shepherded to the door. ‘Remember,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Remember the things we talked about. Remember .. .’
Thales flung himself after Amaury but the guards blocked his way again, one of them clouting the side of his face with a baton as they took the old man from the room.
Thales fell heavily to the floor. He scrambled back to his feet and beat at the locked door. But, as before, nobody came.
TEKTON
Tekton knocked on Labile Connit’s door rather than have his moud announce his visit in advance. In this case, he calculated, the unexpected might yield greater results.
Connit took some time to answer. He had clearly been sleeping off his hangover. ‘Tekton?’
‘I thought it seemed that you could do with some cheering.’ Tekton brandished a bottle of lime-tinctured bubbly which he thrust upon Connit. Then from beneath his coat he produced—and popped the lid on—a dish of reconstituted pungent quark eggs. ‘Here.’ He wafted the dish under Connit’s nose.
The Geneer swallowed several times and bolted inside, leaving the door ajar. As soon as Tekton heard the sounds of Connit’s violent reaction to the eggs, he entered the rooms, placed the dish on a side table and began a quick, concise hunt through the Geneer