Contrarian, page 1
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FOR ALL THOSE whose advice and support helped me survive the Washington years, particularly Bill Armstrong, Bob Lee, Ken Kramer, and Jim Tozzi.
MAJOR CHARACTERS
Steffan Delos Dekkard Isolate and Councilor, Former Security Aide for Premier Obreduur
Avraal Ysella-Dekkard Empath, Former Security Aide for Premier Obreduur, wife of Dekkard
Emrelda Ysella-Roemnal District Patroller, sister of Avraal
Nincya Gaaroll Pattern-sensor, empath-in-training for Dekkard
Svard Roostof Senior Legalist
Luara Colsbaan Junior Legalist
Shuryn Teitryn Engineering Aide
Margrit Pettit Personal Secretary
Axel Obreduur Former Premier (assassinated)
Ingrella Obreduur Councilor from Oersynt (Craft), widow of Axel Obreduur
Fredrich Hasheem Premier, Councilor from Port Reale (Craft)
Guilhohn Haarsfel Councilor from Kathaar, Craft Party Floor Leader
Hansaal Volkaar Councilor from Uldwyrk, Commerce Party Floor Leader
Saandaar Vonauer Councilor from Plaatz, Landor Party Floor Leader
Laureous XXIV Imperador of Guldor
Kaliara Bassaana Councilor from Caylaan (Commerce)
Villem Baar Councilor from Suvion (Commerce)
Breffyn Haastar Councilor from Brekaan (Landor)
Eyril Konnigsburg Councilor from Veerlyn (Commerce), former admiral
Erskine Mardosh Military Affairs Committee Chair, Councilor from Siincleer (Craft)
Kharl Navione Councilor from Seibryg (Landor)
Pohl Palafaux Councilor from Point Larmat (Commerce)
Gerhard Safaell Waterways Committee Chair, Councilor from Enke (Craft)
Harleona Zerlyon Justiciary Committee Chair, Councilor from Ondeliew (Craft)
Oskaar Ulrich Former Premier (Commerce), Vice-Presidente, Suvion Industries
Jaime Minz Isolate, Former Security Aide for Ulrich, Assistant Security Director for Northwest Industrial Chemical (deceased)
Izaak Trujillo Guard Captain, Council Guards
PROLOGUE
THE QUESTIONABLE COUNCILOR DEKKARD
Exactly who is Councilor Steffan Delos Dekkard? Some facts we know. He is a graduate of the Military Institute. He is also an isolate and the former security aide to the late Premier Axel Obreduur, but only for the last two years, a position that allowed him to fulfill his naval service obligation without ever going to sea. Once appointed as councilor, he immediately masterminded the passage of the Security and Public Safety Reorganization Act that effectively destroyed the Security Ministry and disarmed Special Agents, thus removing their ability to deal with threats to public safety, such as the so-called New Meritorists.
What is not so widely known is that Councilor Dekkard was selected as a councilor from Gaarlak after the first candidate for councilor died in a suspicious fire and then after the man elected to replace him died of a heart attack that some claim was foul play. What is also not widely known is that, although Councilor Dekkard’s office was one of those targeted and destroyed by the New Meritorists, the councilor and his entire staff escaped untouched, while the councilors and staff in the other four offices targeted were killed, including the Premier, an amazing feat under the circumstances. Councilor Dekkard, it is said, was the one who suggested that new premier select Premier Obreduur’s widow fill her husband’s seat, apparently overriding suggestions from the Craft Party of Oersynt.
Before last summer, no one in Gaarlak had even heard of Steffan Dekkard, not until he gave a brief talk at a Craft Party gathering, accompanying then Councilor Obreduur on a tour of Gaarlak, perhaps to pave the way for Dekkard to become a councilor? In addition to these circumstances, Dekkard owns neither property nor a home in Gaarlak or the surrounding area, and his parents are Argenti immigrants who live in Oersynt.
That’s the brief and amazing story of Steffan Dekkard, at least to date.
The Machtarn Tribune
30 Winterfirst 1267
1
Duadi
32 Winterfirst 1267
DEKKARD glanced out the carriage window at the ironway station platform, the predawn darkness only dimly lit by the tall gas lamps, then back toward the slender but trimly muscular black-haired woman sitting beside him on the dark blue velvet seat. “Well, Ritten Ysella-Dekkard, how does it feel to embark on the next major event of our life?”
“We’ve had enough major events already, dear,” she replied in the slightly sweet tone that suggested he was edging toward a spoutstorm.
“Buying a house together in Gaarlak will be a major domestic event,” he replied in a tone he hoped was conciliatory, “not a catastrophic one like the shelling of the Council Office Building.” And the assassination of the Premier. The man who had given him the chance to become a councilor—and to meet Avraal. If only … but who could have foreseen the method of the Meritorist attack?
Avraal shook her head. “I’d never thought we’d end up where we are.”
“I certainly never expected to be a councilor, or to be married to an empath who’s descended from ancient royalty,” Dekkard replied wryly.
“Everyone’s forgotten about the kings of Aloor … except my father and brother.”
The first-class steward, wearing a deep blue uniform trimmed with silver piping, strode down the center corridor, saying, “The express will be leaving immediately.”
Less than a minute later, a steam whistle sounded, and with a slight jolt, the carriage began to move.
Since there was little to see through the wide window, at least not clearly, Dekkard studied, as best he could in the dim light, the wooden paneling, a dark stained cherry, rather than the yellow cedar, or even the older black walnut. “I think the paneling in this carriage is the new cherry, most likely from dowry lands Jareem Saarh sold to Guldoran Ironway.”
“He’ll end up losing everything in the long run, and I wouldn’t care in the slightest, except that it wouldn’t be fair to Maelle.”
“At the Yearend Ball, he did say that she was likely running the lands better than he could.”
“He believed it. I could sense that,” replied Avraal. “For her sake, I hope he was right … but he’s been wrong about more than a few things, like getting together with Palafaux and Schmidtz.”
“Exactly, and I have the feeling that that trio has something else planned.”
“No doubt connected to Ulrich and Siincleer Shipbuilding. Speaking of those two … do you think Ulrich might have been the one behind that story in the Tribune?”
“Our most honorable former premier, who likely ordered the assassination of his devoted former aide to keep anyone from tying corporacion aid to the New Meritorists? How could you possibly believe that?” Dekkard’s voice dripped with sardonicism.
“I don’t feel that sorry for Jaime Minz, not after the times he tried to get others to kill you, and his funneling explosives to the New Meritorists. But still … he did all of Ulrich’s dirty work, and Ulrich or one of his cronies just disposed of him like that, and no one’s even looking at Ulrich.”
“Guard Captain Trujillo is, but there’s no hard evidence,” Dekkard pointed out. “Just like with Lamarr’s and Decaro’s deaths. I still wonder about how much Jens Seigryn was involved with Decaro’s death.” Thinking of the Craft Party political coordinator for the Gaarlak district, Dekkard couldn’t help but shake his head. “I wasn’t the one who schemed to make me councilor instead of him. That was Gretna Haarl, and I didn’t even know about it. Jens had to know that.”
“I’m not sure that will make him any happier. I don’t like it that you had to use him to organize tomorrow’s breakfast meeting with all the guildmeisters.”
“What else could we do? We don’t have much choice, not with so little time, especially since he’s the Advisory Committee’s representative in Gaarlak, in addition to being the Craft Party coordinator.”
“I still wish there had been another way, without involving him.” Avraal frowned. “I’ll be carrying my knives, and so will you.”
“All the time now. I did bring my personal truncheon, in case it appears necessary.” He smiled wryly. “It may be that the safest place I’
“It was kind of Emilio and Patriana to invite us for an early dinner.”
“I suspect he wants to hear about the Landor councilors we both know. Patriana may not miss his being a councilor, but I suspect he does at times.”
After a short silence, Avraal said, “How do you think Nincya and Emrelda will get along?”
“Without us there, you mean? They’ll do fine. Nincya respects your sister, and she’s enough of an empath that she can sense if something’s troubling Emrelda, and Emrelda’s direct without being overbearing. If you want to worry about something, worry about whether we can find a decent house in the right place.” Dekkard shook his head. “I just hope that the property legalist that Namoor Desharra recommended understands our particular situation.”
“Our limitations, you mean?”
“I know your parents gave you that personal bond, but…” I don’t want you using it all, even if we do have to buy something in Gaarlak because I’m a councilor.
“Stop feeling guilty. Part of the reason they sent it was because I married a man whom they could brag about, rather than avoid talking about.”
“As in,” Dekkard continued in an archly haughty tone, imitating an arrogant Landor, “‘Avraal did marry a councilor of the Sixty-Six, not quite the same as a Landor heir, but given that she’s an empath, she did quite well’?”
Avraal tried … and failed … to hide a sardonically amused smile. “You did that rather well … almost like Cliven.”
Dekkard winced.
Avraal laughed, then leaned over and kissed his cheek.
2
JUST before the first morning bell, Dekkard and Avraal left their second-floor room at the Ritter’s Inn and started down the wide staircase, the heavy maroon carpeting on the steps muffling the sound of their boots.
Dekkard hadn’t slept well after waking up in the middle of the night from another nightmare about the shelling of the Council Office Building. At least the nightmares are getting less frequent. With that thought, he looked out over the lobby, but didn’t yet see Jens Seigryn.
For the coming breakfast meeting, Dekkard wore one of his gray winter suits with the red cravat unofficially suggesting a councilor, while Avraal wore a conservative dark blue suit with trousers and a light blue headscarf, draped over her shoulders. She also wore a golden lapel pin with a small red stone in the center, a quiet but necessary statement that she was a certified security empath.
Dekkard couldn’t help noticing that the brass lighting fixtures on the wall didn’t seem quite as well-polished as when they had stayed at the inn the previous summer. He also hoped he could put the names he’d studied to the faces of the guildmeisters he and Avraal would shortly encounter, since they’d only met several briefly.
From the staircase, the two walked across the smooth dark gray slate floor, past the small restaurant, already more than half full, toward the private dining room.
Jens Seigryn—short and wiry, with thinning brown hair and a high forehead—waited beside the open door. As he caught sight of the couple, he smiled broadly.
“Steffan, Avraal … or should I say Councilor and Ritten?”
“Steffan and Avraal is fine, Jens,” said Dekkard cheerfully. “I appreciate your arranging the breakfast for us, especially on such short notice.”
“That’s what political coordinators do. Everyone wanted to come, and that’s unusual.” Seigryn paused. “Gretna Haarl … insisted…”
“That she wanted to be seated next to me … or Avraal?”
Seigryn looked surprised at Dekkard’s last words. “Avraal … you really thought she might want to be next to Avraal?”
“It was a definite possibility. When she wrote to congratulate me, she only had two questions. When was I coming to Gaarlak and was I smart enough to listen to Avraal.” That wasn’t how Haarl had written it, but it was definitely what she’d meant. Then Dekkard looked directly at Seigryn. “I trust you know that I had no idea what Gretna had in mind.”
Seigryn smiled ruefully. “I knew that from the moment she became guildmeister she wouldn’t support anyone either Axel or I proposed. You were the only one of those she proposed that anyone else would accept.” After a moment, he went on, his voice both subdued and slightly cautious. “Later, when you have a moment, could we talk … about Axel?”
“We’d be more than happy to. He always spoke well of you.”
“Thank you.” After a momentary hesitation, Seigryn said, “We’d better go in … several of the guildmeisters are already here.”
“Including Gretna?” asked Avraal.
“She was the first.”
Seigryn led the way into the private dining room, just an oblong chamber some eight yards long and six wide. Dark oak paneled the walls below the chair rail, with cream plaster walls above the rail. The maroon carpeting was the same as that on the main stairs, and the crown molding matched the carpet.
Three people stood beside the large round table, set with silver cutlery and a plain white linen cloth. Dekkard immediately picked out the thin, almost frail figure of Gretna Haarl, and the stocky Yorik Haansel of the Stonemasons, but had to mentally struggle a moment to place the other woman before finally coming up with the name of Arleena Desenns, the head of the Weavers Guild.
“Councilor and Ritten Dekkard were a bit early,” announced Seigryn. “We’ll wait a few more minutes before we sit down, but I thought you’d all like a few words.”
Dekkard immediately went to Gretna Haarl, smiled, and said, “I got here at the first opportunity, and, as I wrote you, I’d already taken your counsel in not letting go of Avraal.”
“You’ve been a most pleasant surprise as a councilor, Steffan,” replied Haarl. “You pushed through Security reforms. Myram Plassar tells me you’re pushing reforms for working women.”
“We’re also working on broader pay reform legislation. That might take longer.” Dekkard regretted that Plassar couldn’t have been at the breakfast, but since she was only a regional steward and not a guildmeister, her inclusion would have raised the hackles of the other regional stewards, and including everyone would have made the breakfast too large … and too costly for his expense account.
“That’s good to hear.” Haarl looked to Avraal. “How much of that was your idea?”
Avraal smiled. “Steffan came up with it all.”
“Not that she hasn’t been encouraging … and kept me from making certain mistakes,” added Dekkard.
“Amazing … a man with initiative who also listens.”
“It happens occasionally.” Dekkard gave a slight chuckle, then sobered. “Premier Obreduur did both.”
“Look where it got him,” interjected Yorik Haansel, who then smiled at Dekkard and added, “It’s good to see you here, Councilor.”
“As I said, I came as soon as it was possible.”
“The newssheets said that the Meritorists destroyed your office. How did you escape and Premier Obreduur didn’t?” asked Haansel. “There was some question…”
Dekkard managed to maintain a pleasant expression, despite his dismay at the possibility that the Tribune story had reached Gaarlak. “They fired at his office first and at mine last. When I heard and saw the first explosion I got my staff out of the office and into the stone-walled stairwell. The attack didn’t last more than ten minutes.”
“Why did they stop that soon?” asked Haarl.
“Either their makeshift steam cannon or one of their handmade shells exploded as they fired, and that destroyed the cannon, any remaining explosives, and them. Otherwise, it could have been much, much worse.” Dekkard saw two more guildmeisters arrive—Alastan Cleese, of the Farmworkers, and Charlana Boetcher, who had replaced Johan Lamarr as guildmeister of the Crafters.
Jens Seigryn closed the door to the private dining room and walked toward the table. Then he stopped and said, “If you’d find your seats … we’ll have the blessing.” Seigryn nodded to Dekkard. “Councilor…”
From his time visiting and campaigning with Obreduur, Dekkard knew that the Trinitarian faith was stronger in smaller cities, and that a blessing before a meal was expected. He found the card bearing his name and stood behind the chair while the others sorted themselves out. He did notice that Avraal was across the table from him flanked by Gretna Haarl and Arleena Desenns, while Charlana Boetcher stood on his right and Alastan Cleese on his left.
