Aubrey dropped into a seat opposite George. ‘I thought I could.’ He poured himself a cup of tea. ‘You know, become all callous and calculating, greatest good for the greatest number, ends justify the needs, all sort of rationalisations like that.’
‘I wanted to.’ Caroline joined them but declined George’s offer of tea. ‘I wanted to take Tremaine, but not like that.’
‘I thought you were determined to use her,’ Aubrey said.
‘And I thought you were.’
‘Von Stralick was happy to do it,’ George said. ‘And Kiefer would have been, too, if he’d have been around.’
Aubrey was silent for a moment. ‘People behave differently in groups,’ he said finally. ‘We do things we wouldn’t when we’re alone.’
‘That’s right,’ George said. ‘People stand around waiting for someone to say “Hold on a minute” and when no-one does, they go ahead and commit awful deeds.’
‘Large groups of people are called nations,’ Caroline said.
Aubrey steepled his fingers in front of his chin. ‘Perhaps this is the time when we need a few more people to stand up and say “Hold on a minute”.’
‘They are, Aubrey,’ Caroline said. ‘But their voices aren’t heard over the din of the warmongers.’
‘The warmongers drown out the voices of reason,’ he said, ‘and the masses in the middle move in their direction.’
‘No need to be so gloomy,’ George said. ‘We’ve struck a blow here for the cause of righteousness, so to speak. You’ve saved the Prince from a horrible fate. And without Tremaine’s manipulating and scheming, Holmland’s plans will be knocked into a cocked hat.’
Aubrey sipped his tea. ‘Amazing man, really. Not afraid of getting his hands dirty, but a master strategist at the same time.’
He felt uneasy at that thought, but shook it off when Caroline pursed her lips. ‘Don’t sound so admiring of the man. He’s evil.’
‘So it seems,’ Aubrey said.
‘And tucked away safely,’ George said. ‘We survived the worst he could throw at us. Now all we have to survive is the symposium.’
Aubrey groaned. After their adventures, the prospect of enduring hours of esoteric lectures was less than appealing.
Prince Albert and Lady Rose came in, chatting. ‘Sit, sit,’ the Prince said as all three came to their feet. ‘Any chance of a fresh pot of tea?’
Aubrey rang for a maid. ‘Been on the social round?’
The Prince smiled. ‘That’s why I’m here.’
‘We’ve been at lunch with the Elektor.’ Lady Rose raised an eyebrow. ‘And the Chancellor.’
‘Among dozens of other dignitaries,’ the Prince added. ‘A garden party in honour of tomorrow’s symposium opening. Rather jolly, it was, in the best Holmland manner. An admirably energetic brass band kept going forever without seeming to draw breath.’
‘It’s bound to make a fascinating report,’ Aubrey said. ‘Er. I assume you’ve been told that’s the sort of thing you have to do while you’re here.’
Lady Rose made a face. ‘After we refresh ourselves here we both have to dictate our observations to a secretary.’
‘Father will pore over them,’ Aubrey said. ‘And what about the Chancellor? I’m sure he was suitably apologetic for the incident in the Elektor’s laboratory.’
‘Of course.’ The Prince smiled grimly. After reading Aubrey’s report on the incident, his anger had been coldly furious, and had hardened into an icy determination not to run away. ‘He was doing his best to be affable, but I’m not sure if it comes naturally to him,’ Prince Albert said. ‘Gave me a detailed explanation of the investigations he’d instigated, that sort of thing.’
‘I didn’t like the way the way he managed to bring Holmland industry into any conversation,’ Lady Rose said. ‘“We made these plates in our new ceramics plant in Wissebard.” “I like your dress. We have four new factories making similar fabric in Stahlbord.”’
‘He’s an advocate for his country,’ Prince Albert said as a maid brought in a new tea tray. The Prince helped himself, shaking his head when George offered him a slice of pastry. ‘You can’t criticise a leader for that.’
‘I suppose not.’ Lady Rose scowled. ‘I wish this whole symposium were over and we could head back home.’
Aubrey thought this an opportune time for his surprise. ‘We can relax a little now. You especially, Bertie. We’ve captured Dr Tremaine.’
The Prince was stirring his tea. He jerked, nearly sending his cup spinning away. ‘You did what?’ he said after he put down the cup and mopped at his sleeve with a monogrammed handkerchief.
‘We had a plan, you see,’ George said.
‘But it went topsy-turvy,’ Caroline said.
Aubrey nodded. ‘So while George and Caroline were wrestling with Dr Tremaine–’
‘At the hospital,’ Caroline put in.
‘At the hospital,’ Aubrey repeated, ‘I managed a bit of magic that trapped him in a pearl. With his sister.’
‘As neatly as that.’ Lady Rose looked from one face to the other. ‘I have the distinct impression that that was the merest outline of an outlandish affair. You’ve left out any incriminating parts, I take it?’
Aubrey shrugged, even though he knew the noncommittal answer wouldn’t escape his eagle-eyed mother. ‘The pearl is in the embassy safe. We’ll take it back to Albion when we go.’
‘I’m sure Craddock will be happy to take it off your hands,’ the Prince said. ‘And we can deal with this blackguard, once and for all.’
‘I hope so,’ Aubrey said and wondered why he felt as uneasy as he did.
The opening of the symposium was a gala affair. An annex of the Academy Hall had been given over to a trade display, with exhibitors from all over the Continent. Every display was bright, shiny and full of promise. Aubrey wasn’t surprised to see that Holmland industries dominated, with displays from chemical manufacturers, ironworks and some particularly cheerful armaments companies. Aubrey and his mother strolled through the aisles, inspecting the booths. Aubrey saw this as the legitimate commercial aspect of the symposium, the daylight version of the sort of dealing Rodolfo was conducting in the far reaches of the Academy.
He brought himself up short as he came to a small booth. Inside, it was composed of tall, narrow bookshelves crammed with ancient books. A tall, spindly man was unpacking a trunk and peering at the shelves, looking for places for these new arrivals.
‘Books, Aubrey?’ his mother said.
‘Antiquarian books, I believe,’ Aubrey said. ‘Hello, Mr Thomson.’
The man at the stand straightened from writing in a ledger and, seeing Aubrey, smiled in a sickly manner. He adjusted his glasses. ‘Hello, young sir. Have we met?’
‘You are Thomson, of Thomson and Sons, Antiquarian Books?’ Aubrey said. ‘From Trinovant?’
Mr Thomson bowed. ‘Trinovant, Lutetia and Fisherberg.’ He chuckled, but Aubrey thought it forced. ‘As well as any other continental cities where there is a love of fine books.’
Lady Rose entered the booth and ran her eye over the nearest shelf. ‘Ah. You have one of Professor Hepworth’s works.’
The angular Mr Thomson hopped over. ‘Oh yes. The Matter of Matter, first printing. Quite valuable.’
‘I’ll take it,’ Lady Rose said. ‘For Caroline,’ she said to Aubrey.
He was chagrined. He should have thought of getting it for her.
‘So you travel a great deal,’ Aubrey said to the bookseller as he made out the receipt.
‘Hither and yon,’ Mr Thomson said. He placed the small book carefully on some best brown paper. ‘Backward and forward. I’m only here for a week or two before going back to Albion with a shipment. Busy, busy, busy.’