15 - Tom

TOM

There was a big hubbub in the front gardens of the Engineering Labs one January afternoon because the crown prince had come. I didn't follow politics much, nor did I follow court news, so I was surprised when I saw how animated the rest of the lab men became at the sight of a royal. This enthusiasm seemed to be widespread. Police cordons blocked off the edge of the courtyard, creating a level of security I had never before seen in my life.

Technically, the event was only supposed to be for our building, but masses of government and Army personnel had clearly come from all around to hear what Prince Benedict had to say. Many of the Army brass had even brought their wives, so well-dressed men and women filled the partially shaded courtyard, idling and chatting by fountains in front of the place where I worked.

I had recently been assigned an assistant, a scrawny and acne scar-pocked junior engineer by the name of Maxwell Stationer. He was only a year younger than myself, but he had a sort of adolescent disposition that made it easy to think myself his superior. We got on well enough, and he could listen to an order.

We stood together in the afternoon sun, both crisply and plainly dressed, trying to catch sight of the uniformed young prince. Realizing that he could not easily be seen, Prince Benedict climbed up on a planter. He held a receiver that was connected to a nearby loudspeaker, and it amplified him well. It had been our lab's suggestion that he use voice amplification, because we knew the crowd would be somewhat large, and we had heard that such technologies were being employed to great effect in the Almenreich. The prince, wanting to be seen as a man of progress, had immediately agreed.

"Men and women of Army Engineering," he said with a smile, beginning his address, "you are the fountain of steel and fire from which our nation's strength springs. Without you, we would be nothing. All one hundred twenty-three of our emperors past smile on your endless dedication."

I chuckled at his cadence. "It's like he's campaigning for Master Secretary," I said, murmuring to Stationer.

"Geez," said Stationer. Like me, he seemed amused by the prince's performance. "Keep him away from the lab if he's really such a blowhard. The last thing we need is another politician."

I may not have been the most devoted follower of the royals, but even I knew that what Stationer said had crossed the line. "That man is going to be emperor someday, and you stand there making your little jabs like you know better than him?" I asked.

"I didn't know you were such a patriot, Trussford," said Stationer.

I scowled. This was an ugly streak in Stationer, and I knew I needed to stamp it out before he embarrassed the both of us any further. "What's the alternative?" I asked. Then I shoved his shoulder to make sure he was really listening and drove the point home. "You're lucky you said that tripe to me and not someone who'd really bust your ass."

Just at that moment, I heard a voice that turned all my bitterness into joy. It was the voice of my oldest friend, Jack Clearwater Jr. I turned and saw him in a weekend suit, complete with a knitted blue scarf. He was clearly one of those who had come over from Archcove just to rub shoulders with the elite. I couldn't be angry at the intrusion. He was ambitious, and I knew ambitious men needed to take every chance they could get.

"Jack!" I shouted as we slipped past various members of the gentry. We reached each other and shook, then embraced. Maxwell Stationer, close by, watched the moment.

"Who's your friend?" Jack asked, eager to make a new one. Before I could even answer, Jack was shaking Stationer's hand.

"Maxwell Stationer," said my assistant.

"The only Army Labs engineer more junior than me," I added, to make sure Jack knew his station. "He's in jig borers."

"They're going to be the next big thing," said Stationer. He was always eager to talk about manufacturing.

"I always found the waltz the most boring myself," cracked Jack.

Max and I were both so used to hearing the term ‘jig borer’ that it took us a moment to realize this was some kind of pun. Max didn't seem amused. "I didn't know you knew a big-time comic, Trussford," he said with derision.

"Well, we can't all get by on looks," said Jack, and he meant it meanly.

"Okay, listen, listen," I said in an effort to break up the henpecking. "Stationer, let me see why Jack's in Pax. I'll catch you tonight."

"Hey, no hard feelings," said Jack as I guided him away from Max. I saw Stationer cast an unsmiling glance at my friend from Cabinet as we walked off. The prince was continuing to talk, but it was all the same old jingoism. I lay my arm over Jack's shoulder and guided him to the shade.

"You can't just mosey up and start giving guff to my engineers," I said.

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"Alright, fine, I'll jig," said Jack and started to do so.

"You here to see the prince?" I asked. "Psh, no. I see him all the time," said Jack. I didn't believe him for a second. Then his face dropped a little. "Can we talk in private?"

I wasn't used to seeing Jack serious. I walked him back into the lab, which was deserted, and we paused in the empty machine shop. "Okay, what?" I said.

Jack fidgeted, leaning against the bench. "I think Murdoch's in trouble. My dad thinks so, too."

I had no idea what he could mean. "Like money trouble?"

"No," said Jack. "Like making enemies in the Army, for trying to get at the truth. I'm not going to tell you more than you need to know, but he got a message to me last night, and I need you to point me to an officer you'd trust, who'd trust you, who'd trust me."

This was a lot to take in. I thought through what he was asking, and who he was looking for. I hadn't been at the Army Engineering Labs long enough to know anyone's true heart, but I got a good feeling from Summiter. "Would a major do?" I asked.

"If he's solid," said Jack.

I nodded. "Herman Summiter," I said, pointing. "He's here for the prince's visit. Right outside."

"Great," said Jack.

I stopped him before he could turn to leave. "I'm only going to ask this once. This is the real thing, right, Jack? I'm putting my credibility on the line for you."

Jack swallowed. "I'm almost sure of it," he confessed.

I could accept this. "Just be straight with him," I told Jack. "He'll do what he can. Come on."

The first folks we saw when we exited the lab again were palace guards. They were unmistakable, with white epaulettes and swords on their hips, as well as pistols. Walking past them, we approached an officers' table in the shade, where Major Summiter sat drinking punch with a few other Engineering officers.

"Lot of security," Jack murmured to me as we neared the table.

"They came with the prince," I said.

Jack stopped short of talking to Summiter. "Heard from Violet?" he asked me.

"No," I said. Then I added, "You're nervous, aren't you?"

Jack scowled. "What makes you say that?"

"You're trying to distract yourself."

I helped him work up the nerve to walk the rest of the way up to Summiter, who was in conversation with an eye-patched general I knew as Sylvester Ravenridge. "Major," I said. "This is my friend from Cabinet Hall, Jack Clearwater."

"Junior," Jack clarified.

"He'd like to run a matter past you, urgently," I added.

With my eyes, I tried to indicate that this was somewhat sensitive, and Summiter got my point. He and I had spent enough time around each other to have a common language. After a pause, Summiter rose from his seat at the table. "Excuse me, Sylvester," he said, and took Jack aside.

The three of us walked together, and then I paused to allow Summiter and Jack to walk a little farther, near a fountain. Although my intention had been to get out of earshot, I could still hear them, and I admit that, in curiosity, I listened.

"To make it short, Major," said Jack, speaking low, "I have a friend investigating a plot in the Army Corps, and I think he just sent me a coded message asking for Secret Police."

"What plot?" said Summiter.

Jack seemed to struggle, then he spoke again. "A plot to force war with the CCNCU."

I glanced over at Summiter, but I could not make out the expression on his face. "You know who else suspected such a plot?" Summiter said. As he said it, he pointed over to nearby General Dell. The gray-mustached cavalry general sat with crutches at his side and a bandaged leg stumped at the knee. "Before Dawncastle nationalists blew up his car last week."

Jack scratched his face as he continued to put the pieces together in his head. "Are they sure it was Dawncastlers?" he asked.

If Summiter said something back, I couldn't quite hear. The occasional bursts of commotion from whatever Prince Benedict was up to were drowning him out. Then I saw Jack's eyes flash to someone else in the crowd. "Who's that man?" he said.

I followed Jack's gaze and saw a thin, tan man in a black suit with his hand in his pocket. He was standing in an awkward position near a statue, staring coldly at General Dell.

"I don't know him," said Summiter.

Now the both of them looked worried. To my surprise, Jack started walking forward, boldly approaching the tan man. "Excuse me," he called out, with some urgency.

I saw that Summiter was taking that moment to alert a nearby palace guard. Jack continued to advance, and General Ravenridge watched him from afar. "Excuse me, you in black?"

The tan man tried to ignore Jack, who continued to near. "I'm talking to you, buddy." Jack grabbed his shoulder, and the suspicious character suddenly looked scared. In a panic, the man drew a pistol from his coat and pointed it in the direction of General Dell. "Tauncheasleu is klatesh!" he shouted, in language that I thought might be Dawncastler, but I wasn't sure.

In the moments just before, the palace guard alerted by Summiter had swiftly moved into action. He had drawn his sword, and before the pistol could get off a shot the guard brought his blade down in a clean sweep. With surreal ghastliness, it severed the pistol-wielding hand. Both the tan fist and the pistol hit the ground.

The man screamed, and dozens of people looked over with alarm. Immediately, the whole scene burst into clamor. "Get His Highness to safety!" another palace guard shouted.

I could see the guard who had drawn his sword now switching to his pistol, scanning for additional threats. People around me ducked and fled. A few ladies cried out for their husbands.

At the street, just at that moment, a Secret Police car skidded to a stop. Four khaki-dressed SP men got out, holding rifles. They moved quickly past the barricades and into the courtyard where we stood.

"Where's General Ravenridge?" the lead one shouted.

Major Summiter, alert, approached the SP. With a stutter, he spoke. "He's here. He was just at that table with me."

I looked over and saw that Ravenridge was gone. Then, I heard the sound of screeching tires. On the opposite side of the garden, a black car with Army markings was pulling away from the scene with furious haste. Before anyone could stop it, it disappeared around a corner onto the busy streets of Paxlight.