Chaos Space - Marianne de Pierres [47]
Connit’s fists clenched so tight that the golden skin of his knuckles turned a bright yellow.
Tekton took half a step back. It would not do to get the fellow overanxious. ‘I understand discretion better than most,’ he soothed. ‘I have a need that you can help me fulfil and you have a secret that needs to be kept. It is quite simple.’
‘No. It is not simple. Lasper and I do not have a close relationship. Fatherhood is not his strong suit.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We are estranged.’
‘But only for the purposes of distancing yourself from his nefarious activities, surely?’
‘No.’
Tekton could see that Connit was recovering some composure.
‘What of your mother, then?’
‘She is dead. And she is the reason.’
Tekton felt the edge of frustration rising. He should have realised that the politics of such a family would be fraught—yet he would not lose his advantage. ‘It would not matter to an OLOSS inquiry who speaks to who. You are Lasper Farr’s biological son. You must have access to information outside OLOSS channels. Find me a place and this will be the end of it.’
Connit trembled again and the pair stared at each other for long moments.
‘Very well,’ said the Geneer. ‘Send me a list of your basic needs and I will find you suitable premises.’
Tekton beamed. ‘I’ve always admired your common sense.’
Connit took a deep, settling breath. ‘There is NOTHING at all that I admire about you. Or your cousin!’
THALES
Thales counted the days of his imprisonment, five now, which he’d spent largely in meditation. In the moments between contemplations he pondered Amaury Villon’s fate and the future of his own marriage. Did Villon’s beliefs have some sound basis or were they simply the imaginings of a brilliant mind left alone for too long? And what of Rene? Thales was angry with her, sure enough. But more than that, for the first time in their life together he questioned the compatibility of their values, their ideological harmony. Rene had always—to him—been the most beautiful of minds.
‘Msr Berniere?’
Thales relinquished his inner world slowly.
The door to his prison was ajar, and expressionless Brown Robes stood in front of him. One of them extended his hand to assist Thales from his meditative position on the floor.
He did not take it. ‘Is my fate to be the same as Villon’s?’
The guard dropped his hand. ‘The Sophos Mianos wishes an audience with you.’
‘He wishes an audience? And what if I refuse? It appears to be a fallacy that one is able to maintain a free mind and spirit on Scolar.’
The guard did not react.
Thales uncoiled and stood without assistance. He gave one sweeping glance around the prison apartment remembering all he could: remembering Amaury.
The guards escorted him, one before him and one behind, in a brisk march along narrow corridors and up dimly illuminated stairs. The stairs gave way to the high, elaborately-carved ceilings and diamond chandeliers of the Sophos assembly halls, and finally to the Eminence offices.
Sophos Mianos, Rene’s father, had one of the more prestigious rooms. Thales had been there, once only, to ask for permission to wed the man’s daughter. As he entered it now, he experienced the same impression of beauty and opulence.
An aquarium occupied one entire wall, while another was decorated with a huge Mioloaquan wall-hanging that reflected from its scales a soft rainbow of lights across an intricately pearl-inlaid escritoire. This time, though, Thales was not nervously seeking acceptance into a family.
‘Berniere,’ said Sophos Mianos without preamble. ‘It is a grave occasion when I have to talk to you about the circumstances of several days ago.’
Anger rushed through Thales but he smothered it, knowing that Mianos needed little excuse to find fault with his son-in-law. ‘Four days and six hours, Sophos, to be precise. I remember every second with great clarity, particularly my precious moments with the prophet Amaury Villon.’
‘Aaah, he could not resist telling you who he was? Well, I had hoped you