The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (33 page)

“Absolutely not!” Mahrree said. The building
was so warm, so beautiful—how could it hold anything fearsome?

“Are you about ready, because . . .” Perrin
glanced at the sun.

“Yes! Of course,” said Mahrree, eager to get
a closer look.

She forgot why they were going to the
building as they made their way down the hill and across the busy
drive where they dodged horses and carriages. Trees lined the road
and the grasses underneath them were cut in a surprisingly uniform
manner, leading them naturally to the steps of the
Headquarters.

At the top of the stairs stood a man in a
deep red jacket with tails, a white shirt with ruffles at the
throat, and black trousers. His dark-brown skin was gently wrinkled
with age, and while he wasn’t unpleasant looking, Mahrree still
encountered a new level of dread.

Now she remembered why they were there.

The man eyed the Shins as they began to climb
the steps, and he positioned himself to be at the top of their
progress. Everyone else respectfully skirted around him.

“Lieutenant Colonel Shin, Mrs. Shin I
presume?” He held his hand out to shake Perrin’s as they
neared.

Mahrree swallowed hard as her husband easily
answered him. “Yes, sir. I hope we’re not late.”

“Of course not. Perfectly on time. I just
wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost along your way. I’m
Administrator Giyak.” He afforded Mahrree a bit of a smile. “Ma’am.
Would you two please follow me?”

Mahrree was suddenly gripped with fear. It
came upon her without warning, and she wondered if she was the only
one who felt it. She looked up at Perrin for reassurance, but he
was in full army mode. He looked straight ahead and pulled Mahrree
along toward the large front doors that were held open by two
porters.

Inside the doors was a great hall with
polished stone flooring. White with gray streaks and swirling
lines, it reflected the light that poured into the windows. The
effect was dazzling and dizzying.

Mahrree quickly looked around her, feeling
her head swoon again with amazement, trepidation, and earlier
concussion.

All along the great hall to her right and
left were tall doors spaced evenly apart. Dozens of people walked
briskly from one great door to another, illuminated by the tall
windows opposite of them. She realized that when the sun hit just
right, each large wooden door would be shadowed by one of the
pillars outside.

Over some of the doors nearest her she saw
the titles painted in what looked like gold. Administrator of
Transportation. Administrator of Education. Administrator of
Agriculture. Administrator of Commerce. Administrator of Family
Life. Interspersed between those doors were others with just the
names of the Administrators and no titles. Twelve men were over
specific concerns in the government, while the other ten were
Administrators in general, filling seats in committees and keeping
an eye on the other twelve.

And somewhere was Chairman Mal’s office.

Mahrree frequently imagined scenarios in her
head of how things should happen, and they never occurred as she
planned. Usually things turned out better, or duller, or just plain
anticlimactic.

Then there were rare days like this, which
turned out far worse than she ever could’ve imagined. She really
needed to stop trying to predict the future. Somehow the future
always found out about her guesses and did all in its power to
thwart her. No scenario she’d imagined on the long coach ride to
Idumea ever came up with finding herself on the way to the
Conference Room of the Administrators.

She stared at a large stone staircase that
rose in the middle of the hallway, again like the Shins’ home,
leading to unknown offices upstairs. She surmised her letter
readers sat at the very top of the third level in an attic-like
room, dank and hot and cramped, where the junior letter skimmers
sweated over yet another copy of another letter to another hopeful
writer. Had Mahrree not been so worried about what was coming, she
might have felt some sympathy for them.

Perrin pulled her down the hall to the right
toward two sets of double doors. Above them read the words ‘Main
Conference Room’ in gold.

Administrator Giyak said nothing as he snaked
through the crowds of people, glancing back occasionally to make
sure his guests were keeping up. The doors, twice as tall as any
man, opened automatically as he approached, and only once they were
past a large group of men in dark coats did Mahrree see two men in
red uniforms, similar to what the messengers wore, holding open the
doors.

She took a deep breath and looked again at
her husband. He seemed to notice nothing as he followed the
Administrator through the doors. They found themselves in a large
room lined with sofas and chairs, woven in the same pattern as the
orange and red stonework mosaic outside.

Giyak turned and said to Mahrree, “You’ll
wait here, please. I’ll return for you in a moment.” His face was
kind, but his tone insistent as he gestured to a large orange and
red-tendrilled sofa.

A wide desk sat by the next set of doors, and
a man in a dark red jacket but no ruffles nodded to the
Administrator. “I have it,” he said. “Mrs. Mahrree Shin, correct?”
Another younger man sitting next to him wrote carefully in a thick
ledger.

Mahrree looked nervously at them and tried to
smile. The first man nodded politely to her. Perrin released her
arm, nodded to her officially, then pointed to the sofa. Mahrree
swallowed hard and sat on the surprisingly firm and uncomfortable
cushion.

Another porter opened the second set of
doors, obscuring Mahrree’s view. He announced, “The Administrator
of Security with Lieutenant Colonel Perrin Shin.” With that the two
men stepped through the door into the unseen room, and the porter
shut the door behind him.

Mahrree felt something ugly and painful grow
in her stomach. Administrator of Security?

Our security has been infiltrated.
That’s what her father-in-law said last night, and now those words
were big and blobby in her mind.

But we’ve done nothing wrong, she thought
defensively.

All right, she had to admit to the part of
her brain that had mastered the admonishing one-arched eyebrow,
we’ve bent the rules a little on how I teach the students, and
Perrin allowed debates for as long as he could.

She rummaged through her mind trying to
uncover anything else she’d conveniently forgotten, like filthy and
torn socks shoved under the dresser.

She’d written letters, but not for a few
years. And there were the debates they held at home with the
children. And their heated dinner discussions, such as last night.
And then there was her husband’s disloyal grumblings to her, and
her complaints to him about the state of the world.

That was all
.
Maybe.

As she considered the pile, she realized
there was a lot of dirty laundry she’d ignored over the years.

She strained to hear anything that could be
happening behind those massive double doors, and wondered if the
men behind the desk were armed guards, waiting for their moment.
She didn’t dare look at them again, just in case they were watching
her for the slightest hint that she was a security threat.

Our security has been threatened—

She wished she had told Perrin she loved him
before he went through them. What if it was the last time she saw
him—

Stop it.

The words sounded like her father.

Just stop it, Mahrree. Now you’re being
ridiculous. Consider that the Administer of Security was sent to
make sure you arrived
securely
? Stop
letting your imagination run away on you. Since when do you behave
so childishly? You’re a grown woman, a wife, and a mother. Now act
the part.

Her father’s words didn’t do much to calm her
worry, but instead added a layer of guilt for being so silly; a
tender cosmic slap upside the head she knew she needed.

She rolled her eyes at herself, shook her
head a little, and offered a silent prayer.

Dear Creator, please,
please
let this
go well. We haven’t done anything really wrong but talk, have
we?

For fifteen minutes she sat there, feeling
the long cut on her head stinging, the ugly blob in her belly
overtaking her intestines, and worrying that she would lose
consciousness again—

That might be a good idea, she realized. Pass
out on the

sofa. Get the sympathy of the
Administrators.

She ran through a few scenarios of how to
knock herself out—all of them more painful than she wanted to
really attempt—and was just beginning to wonder how long she’d have
to hold her breath when the heavy doors swung open with an
unintended bang.

Mahrree jumped a little as Perrin stepped
through and turned immediately to her. He was smiling.

“It’s good, it’s all good,” he whispered as
he pulled her to her feet. “Just smile and nod. Smile and nod.”

Administrator Giyak stood at the door with a
small smile on his face too.

Riding on a cautious wave of relief, Mahrree
allowed Perrin to lead her through the large doors. She stopped
when she found herself facing an enormous and strangely shaped
table.

Several oaks must have been used to create
the shape. It was like a large raindrop, pushed flat at the top and
bottom. At the top peak, directly across from Mahrree, was a man
older than General Shin. Slender with white hair that seemed easily
rumpled, he had more ruffles on his shirt than Mahrree could’ve
imagined would fit there. His elbows were on the table and his
hands were clasped in front him, waiting.

Men in red jackets and ruffled shirts sat on
either side of him around the table as it gently curved away to the
large open section where Mahrree stood. Each man could view the
others, but it was clear who was the Chairman of the
Administrators. Light streamed in from the tall windows to
Mahrree’s left, the back side of Headquarters, bathing the shiny
table and the Administrators in sunlight.

Mahrree’s gaze traveled briefly across each
man, and she remembered she’d taught her students all of their
suspiciously similar biographies. But discerning one ruffled
senior-aged pot belly from another? If they didn’t have little
pieces of polished wood with their names in gold in front of them,
she wondered if they could tell each other apart. Even though their
skins were various shades of dirt, ranging from pale gravel to deep
brown, they all had a sameness about them that was hard to pin
down. It was as if they all knew something more than anyone else,
and it showed on their hardened faces that, for the moment, were
trying to appear cordial.

She felt all twenty-three pairs of eyes
examining her back. In none of her daydreams—or day-nightmares—had
she anticipated anything quite like this. Perrin positioned himself
right behind her, perhaps to catch her if she swooned again.

Chairman Nicko Mal, as declared by the wooden
sign in front of him which was a bit larger than anyone else’s,
cleared his throat to draw her attention back to him. “Mrs. Mahrree
Shin, I understand this is your first trip to Idumea? How are you
enjoying your visit so far?”

Mahrree didn’t realize she would have to
speak. Perrin had just said smile and nod. She opened her mouth
dumbly and suddenly felt a sharp poke in her back from Perrin.

“Ah, wonderful,” she said quickly. “Many
things I’ve never seen before. This building is quite amazing, for
example—” She felt another sharp poke telling her it was enough,
and she pressed her lips shut.

The Chairman nodded courteously. “I’m glad to
hear our old friend General Shin is recuperating. Although I
understand Relf had a bit of a spill this morning?”

Mahrree’s eyes widened at his unexpected
knowledge. “Yes, sir. Seems he lost his balance on his crutch,” she
lied to the Chairman of the Administrators. “He’s in good spirits,
though.”

She wasn’t. She had just
lied
to the
Chairman
of the Administrators!

Chairman Mal only smiled thinly. “Good, good.
I see he found a way to avoid dancing next week. Clever man.”

Mahrree didn’t know if that required a
response or not. When Perrin didn’t jab her, she obediently smiled
and nodded.

“Mrs. Shin, you’re probably wondering why
we’ve requested to see you this morning.”

“Yes sir?” She nearly choked on the
words.

The Chairman looked at the Administrator of
Security and nodded once. The Administrator had remained next to
the lieutenant colonel and now turned to Mahrree with an official
smile.

“It has been relayed to us that when the land
tremor hit Edge, many people were in a panic, disoriented, and
unsure of what to do. While Lieutenant Colonel Shin went to the
fort to organize the rescue and recovery efforts, you organized
your own little army of sorts, giving commands to neighborhoods,
beginning searches for survivors, and creating maps of the damage.
For your willingness to take control of the situation, enabling
your husband to better complete his duty to Edge, the
Administrators wish to present you with this Certificate of
Appreciation.”

He finished his rambling speech by holding
out a thick piece of parchment with writing in black and gold.

Mahrree was stunned motionless. Perrin had to
jab her three times before she composed herself enough to take it
from his hands.

“Thank you,” she murmured, staring at the
certificate.

“As Administer of Security it’s my job to
make sure the homes and land of the citizens of Idumea and the
world are secured and protected in time of crisis or calamity. The
recent land tremor and quaking has shown many ways in which the
citizens are unprepared and disorganized, and it is my desire and
intent to develop and implement preparedness programs throughout
the world to improve and help the situation.”