Ockham: <¿Is anyone trying to defend or justify this debacle?>
Lesley: <No.>
Ockham: <Then no need yet.>
Sniper entered now with the Humanist Special Guard. These twelve were all Humanists by Hive and birth bash’, mostly natives of Cielo de Pájaros, proud of their commissions, excited by the drill, and even more excited now that something real was happening. Their calm faces and Sniper’s presence eased Ockham instantly, like sea spray in the heat of August. They also eased the five conspirators in a way, since surrender doesn’t feel so real when you outnumber those you’re trying to surrender to. Ockham’s quick orders sent the regular troops and secondary prisoners off to parts secure, until the room was almost what he wanted: trusted Sniper, trusted troops, the oddly forthright traitor Zhu Weichun, all in Ockham’s control, save for the little sensayer, this strange Guest and His Honor Guard. And Thisbe. Her arrival in Sniper’s wake did not match Ockham’s orders, a fact which earned a twitch of irritation from his black brows. But he would not criticize a bash’member in front of outsiders, nor would Thisbe, in any circumstance, admit why she had more reason than any of them to want to get the measure of this new Intruder.
“Hinc…” J.E.D.D. Mason began in Latin but caught Himself. “From this point,” He translated, “do you desire help or privacy?”
Ockham smiled appreciation at the great Prince-Tribune’s deference. “I understand high politics is your thing. If you can sort out that end, and leave me free to check my own security and deal with this supposed intruder, I’ll be grateful. I don’t know what the Mitsubishi are thinking right now, but I hear they trust you, and the last thing I need is Hive execs in a tizzy thinking there’s something wrong with my security.”
“Your security’s vindication I shall undertake,” He answered, inclining his head in confirmation of the pledge.
Thisbe intruded her voice now, as well as her presence. “The last thing we need is a public tizzy.”
J.E.D.D. Mason’s gaze fell now upon Thisbe Saneer. “No one comes to stone the servant when they could watch the execution of the king.”
Sniper physically interposed himself between J.E.D.D. Mason and intruding Thisbe, and the distant Duke President would have been glad to know Sniper was so mindful of his warning. “I think we’re okay on the public front. No one’s here except our people, Mitsubishi people, and Cousin Foster.”
“My Dominic may be here,” J.E.D.D. Mason warned. “Have you seen him? He is perhaps your height, vicious, in dark costume, with a Blacklaw Hiveless sash. I seek him. He was last seen here, but has gone stray.” Ockham and Thisbe did not remember observing that the Guest used ‘he’ for Dominic—it was too far from the strangest thing He did.
<¡That’s who it is!> Cato Weeksbooth could hear all through the door. <¡In B-block! They’re on camera. Not now, almost an hour ago, the system didn’t register it as an intruder but there was somebody there. I was having trouble with the ID. ¡It’s that scary Blacklaw sensayer!>
“Dominic Seneschal?” Ockham said it aloud. “Dominic Seneschal works for you, Council Mason? Does that mean you work with Martin Guildbreaker?”
“Both Martin and Dominic are Mine, yes. But Martin is well. It is Dominic who strays. His tracker has been off since he entered this house yesterday. When was he last sighted?”
“Tracker off since yesterday?” Here, reader, is your rare chance to see Sniper show fear. “Did anyone see Seneschal leave the house yesterday?” <Lesley, ¿did you?>
Lesley: <No. I last saw them near Thisbe’s room.>
Glances flew between Ockham and Sniper. “Who else was here then?”
“I was,” Carlyle volunteered, stepping gently forward. “I didn’t see them leave either. But they couldn’t stay in the house for twenty-four hours with no one noticing, right? Not in this house, with your security.”
J.E.D.D. Mason’s eyes turned back to Ockham. “While your case is Mine, your gates will open for My Dominic.”
Cato: <Xiao Hei Wang is right, Ockham. Our system has the scary sensayer registering with the same super executive access privileges you do. More, they also have the back-end system editing privileges I do, and looks like they used them to clear records of themself. ¿You know the setting we use to make the system not record our secure meetings? They turned that on themself. With this they could wander anywhere, and the system would just delete the records. They may well have been in here all night.>
Ockham took a deep breath. “This is intolerable. Council Mason, I know you and your team were chosen for your discretion, but this is ten times as disruptive as the Black Sakura list turning up in the first place.”
“I agree,” J.E.D.D. Mason answered. “It is not tolerated. Dominic will be disciplined when found. They know this.” Carlyle says that, even with the airy naturalness of J.E.D.D. Mason’s tone, the word ‘disciplined’ had an ominous sense of corporeality to it, invited by the Familiaris armband with its reminder of Masonic force, and the Blacklaw sash around Dominic’s waist proclaiming his renunciation of all protections of the law. “You have My promise and My apology, as One responsible for whom I send.”
The apology eased Ockham’s scowl somewhat. “You and Martin Guildbreaker have been reasonably helpful. Yourself very helpful in fact, but—”
“That fact gladdens Me,” He interrupted.
“Good. But I don’t want you coming here again unannounced. No one comes here unannounced, ever. Understood?”
A pause. “Factually untrue, but as a wish I understand it, and shall endeavor to help it approach truth.”
Ockham took a moment to parse that one. “Good. And I want that Blacklaw out of my house, and away from my bash’mates. Forever. Get them out of here, or I will.” He tapped his deadly sidearm, still in his hand for lack of the holster which rested upstairs with his other clothes. Sniper joined the threat, tapping his own holster, though with a touch of frown, since what he carried was not deadly, or even elegant like the sport pistols he used for the pentathlon, but a common stun gun, unworthy in his hand like instant noodles on a gourmet’s tongue.
“These prayers I shall endeavor to grant. If I fail to prevent an altercation between yourselves and My Dominic, I should be infinitely grateful if you spared his life.” I wish J.E.D.D. Mason could have expression in His voice, emotion in His face, for moments like this when I’m sure the deadness of His request kept them from understanding how passionate a plea it was, how literal, how vast His Fear when Dominic was threatened. “I am told My third was near here too?” He continued. “He is shorter, in Servicer uniform, full of guilt, cunning, and languages, and answers to Mycroft. I hoped he might have seen the stray.”
Ockham, Sniper, and even Carlyle looked to Thisbe.
“I know who you mean, but Mycroft isn’t here now,” she answered. “If I see them I’ll ask.”
J.E.D.D. Mason moved His flesh again now, calm, precise steps back toward the narrow entrance hall. “I thank you for your hospitality.”
“You’re leaving?”
He did not turn, but His eyes found Sniper. “Your Ockham tasked Me to settle the high political concerns raised by this event. This I undertake. But you yourself do not want Me here. If My Martin and Mycroft are more comfortable to you, then henceforth let all My work within this house be theirs.”