‘I’m sorry for putting you through such things again,’ Fulcrom began.
Lan simply shrugged.
‘So you’re the only one in the group who doesn’t really want to be here?’
Lan glanced up at him, and he could see then that she was a slender lady, with such tight musculature. There was something vaguely familiar about her appearance — she looked very much like someone he once knew…
No. Don’t think of her now. Lan’s hair was long and dark, her fringe bold, and he noticed her nails were well bitten. Her brown eyes displayed a distance that he wondered if she’d put there herself, to cope.
‘Well, I’ve been thinking about it,’ she replied. ‘The only thing that repulses me is that there is knowledge being used against me — the fact that knowledge is being used to keep me here. The rest, I’m OK with — I maintain that there were nicer ways of asking though.’
‘We’ve got knowledge on the others too, though it doesn’t make it any better, I know. It’s just a security bond, something to guarantee you’ll not abuse your powers — and I want to stress that they aren’t my orders, this isn’t my style, but I understand that there is a requirement that you yield to the Emperor’s will.’
There was a world of thought in her expression, and Fulcrom could tell his words were being analyzed. He liked that.
‘I did have some money,’ Lan said, ‘but I knew I’d have to get employment eventually, which I knew was going to be limiting, being a woman.’
She stared hard at him then, as if testing him for a response.
‘And this…’ Lan sat up to gesture around the room with one hand. ‘This doesn’t seem so bad. It’s all a little too high profile for my liking, but still. You know, really, they could have just asked me nicely, rather than assaulting me.’
‘They need to use fear to get what they want. If it’s any help, I’ve learned from working in the Inquisition that more often than not, you just need to treat people with respect, no matter who they are, and they’re more likely to respond positively that way. That’s how I would’ve done it.’
‘I like you, Investigator Fulcrom,’ Lan said boldly. ‘You’re probably the first person I’ve met on Jokull who’s treated me as an equal.’
That was a relief.
‘Though,’ she went on, ‘I believe it’s freakish that anyone in your position can keep your shoes so remarkably clean.’
He glanced down to his immaculate boots, then ignored her comment. ‘Lan, in a few minutes those cultists will treat you… just like they’re doing with Tane and Vuldon. I’m sorry, but it won’t exactly be comfortable.’
‘Cultists,’ Lan repeated, ‘I’ve noticed that they have a tendency to look at everyone like they’re an experiment, which, I guess, is a form of equality.’
‘It’s a good opportunity, these new transformations,’ Fulcrom pressed. ‘Especially yours.’
‘Gravitational forces,’ she breathed. ‘That’s what they said, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. You’ll more or less receive metallic plates and a whole bunch of stuff I don’t quite understand, and they’ll enhance your mobility and you’ll be able to alter your interactions with gravity. Which will be interesting to see, given your already useful skills from the circus.’ Pausing on that word, he realized he wanted to know a good deal more about her former life. She seemed so gentle; it disturbed him knowing the pain she would go through. ‘So can we trust you to work for us, Lan? I need to know you want to do this, rather than just being forced to do so.’
‘Answer me this,’ Lan demanded. ‘Are the three of us experiments? Has this been tried before on others? I’ve worked with cultists, as you know, but they seemed very thorough and detailed. These ones are wandering about behind the scenes and don’t let on much.’
‘The process has been refined somewhat, in secrecy, though I believe the Emperor has only known about the available tools in recent weeks, and he’s immediately seen their potential.’
‘What happened to the others?’
‘Others?’
‘The others — who this has been tried on?’
Fulcrom wanted to move things on. ‘The science has been refined now, and that’s all you need to know, Lan — the rest, I’m afraid, is confidential.’
As he turned to leave she said, ‘Shalev — that’s who you’re looking for, isn’t it? Vuldon mentioned her name earlier.’
Fulcrom froze and turned to assess her words. ‘That’s true, yes. We think she’s behind much of the surge in crimes recently. Do you know something about her?’
‘When I was on Ysla — with the cultists — they mentioned the name Shalev. It’s a woman, by the way.’
‘Why did you take so long to say anything?’ Fulcrom enquired, attempting to remain calm at this information.
‘Well… no one asked what I thought until now.’
‘What do you know about… her, about Shalev?’
Lan said, ‘I didn’t hear much, only of her escape — it was when I was… you know.’
Fulcrom acknowledged her words.
‘She murdered people, on Ysla, apparently. They’ve pretty strange ways over there — a bizarre culture — but she wasn’t welcome there. She’d been sent to a part of the island in whatever exile those people can permit with their strange lack of law. Then she vanished. She wasn’t like the rest of them I think. She had a bad history with the Empire regarding her homeland. That’s all I know — I swear.’
‘Thanks, Lan. That’s the most we’ve heard in a long while.’
*
Later that night, sprawled in a vast chair in an antechamber adjacent to the main operation theatre, Fulcrom was sipping a mug of spiced tea whilst staring into the light of the only lantern in the room. An open notebook lay to one side and, in it, he had been pencilling in plans and strategies to ensure the Knights could reduce the crime-wave that had washed over Villjamur. He’d also made notes about Shalev, exploring what Lan had told him, that the woman might have some personal vendetta against the Empire, and was targeting symbols of the city.
Fulcrom waited as the screams of the Knights ebbed and flowed through varying stages of their transformations. He closed his eyes hoping that these pains were not going to scar them for life. Distantly he thought of what it was about Lan’s appearance that provoked him, or at least his memory. Adena… of course, how could you be so stupid. The acknowledgement and memory of her disarmed him.
Emperor Urtica fresh from his Council business suddenly marched into the room.
Fulcrom raised to greet him, with a bow. ‘Sele of Urtica, my Emperor.’
‘Less of that, investigator,’ Urtica instructed, and gestured for him to sit back down.
Urtica paraded around the room ending up behind Fulcrom’s chair, and suddenly slapped down his Imperial hands on Fulcrom’s shoulders. Fulcrom noticed the man’s hands were shaking slightly. Is he nervous?
‘They were right about you,’ Urtica declared.
‘What’s been said, my Emperor?’ Fulcrom enquired.
The Emperor moved in front of him, a darkness momentarily blocking the light of the lantern on the table. ‘That you possess remarkable skills with people. You’ve managed these misfits rather well already. They’d never listen to someone as… well. Let’s just say that I do not have the patience to put up with errors and slowness in individuals.’ Urtica paused for a moment, as if considering his next statement. ‘I need to trust you will have the people of this city enthralled by your achievements, investigator. I… I don’t trust that many people in Balmacara. People there seem to always want things from me, or seek my favour.’
Is this some sort of mind-game? ‘I don’t ask for faith in me,’ Fulcrom said. ‘We’ll work hard. You’ll see results.’
‘Results — yes.’ Urtica perked up suddenly, like a different man. ‘I need to see results — the city needs to see results, and the fears of our citizens need to be abated. You are responsible for this, and your management and crime-solving abilities come recommended very highly, so do not let me down.’