Velvet Dogma About 3300 wds (39 page)

She sniffed. “I already did. My fiancé will be over as soon as he gets off work.” She looked at the two officers. “You can go ahead and leave— I’ll be all right. I think I’ll just stay in here until…” Her words faded and she stared at the floor.

Greg knew exactly what she was talking about. “That would probably be best. If you think of anything else, you can call me at this number.”

He handed her one of his cards, then headed back downstairs, stopping at the second landing when he saw the door to Eloise Addison’s apartment was open. There was a heavyset middle aged man standing just inside, shock still etched into the lines of his face. Greg could hear noises from deeper in the apartment. “Who are you?” he demanded. “And who else is in here?”

“I’m the landlord,” the man said, stepping back at Greg’s sharp tone. “The detective downstairs said to let him in—that’s all.”

Greg relaxed a bit as he registered the crowded ring of keys in the man’s hand. “It’s fine,” he said, not bothering with any more of an explanation. He hurried down the hall—a matched layout to the Kidman
a
partment upstairs—and found his partner in the bedroom, methodically looking through the dresser drawers. “Find anything?”

Tony shrugged. “Bunch of frilly underwear, socks, sweaters, the usual. Nothing kinky. The super says as far as he knows, she never gave anyone else a key, not even that woman upstairs. Seemed to like her privacy.”

Greg looked around the room thoughtfully and left Tony to his search, though he had a hunch the other man wouldn’t get much out of this place. No number for this Blake guy, no last name, no employer; he’d do a follow up with her coworkers and a canvas of the neighborhood, but he was betting no one but the late Eloise had actually seen him. When he passed the techs on the way outside, they looked at him and shook their heads—that meant no fingerprints or, at least at first glance, anything else usable. Guy had probably been wearing gloves.

He sighed and went down by the car to wait for Tony. Too bad they didn’t have anything to go on, but at least they weren’t dealing with a serial killer.

By David Niall Wilson

Chapter One

The main chamber of the meeting hall of The High Council of Urv was a stately edifice with towering columns and a decorated, vaulted ceiling. It was centered by a huge oval table of polished stone and ringed with ornate chairs covered in plush upholstery.
 
It was, in fact, a statement, and as Euphrankes Holmynn entered, all he could do was shake his head.

Seated around that table, watching his entrance in solemn silence, an array of gray-haired councilmen waited in frowning silence.
 
Euphrankes had been in the chamber before, and he'd known, more or less, what to expect, but the sheer pomposity of it still made him cringe.

The walls were hung with portraits of still more elders.
 
They dated back to the beginning of The Council.
 
When Euphrankes, as a boy, had asked what there had been before the earliest portrait, he'd been cuffed on the ear and told to keep his silence.
 
He had since come to understand that he'd gotten his answer…they didn't know.

The rule for all those summoned to The High Council Chamber was silence.
 
There were words to be spoken, but though they called it a court, there were no deliberations to be made.
 
There were lines on old parchment that spoke with the voice of the law, and policy never deviated.
 
That is why, stepping into the center of the room, where a slightly raised circular stage stood facing the base end of The Council table, seemed like such a waste of time and a display of idiocy.
 
Euphrankes already knew what they would say.

It didn't matter.
 
He'd made his request because it was his nature to make such requests.
 
He'd stood his ground because he knew that he was not the only man on the planet who wished that things might change – that it was possible to prove the limitations and proclamations of law were not inviolate.
 
It didn't even really matter that they would say no, because he knew that – in the end – there would come a time when it didn't matter what they thought, or what they said.
 
If he died in the attempt, he would die knowing in his heart what was, and was not, the truth.

The chamber was only dimly lit by a ring of flickering lanterns.
 
The only bright spot was where he stood, a trick of lenses and mirrors, and he knew this was to make it difficult for him to meet their gaze or study their expressions, while making it simple for them to do the same to him.
 
Euphrankes' father had helped in the most recent redesign of the chamber, and he still had the books of notes explaining the structure, construction, and purpose of each architectural tidbit.

It was, in fact, the influence of his father, Edwin, that allowed Euphrankes to be granted any audience at all.
 
He knew that he was a disappointment to The Council.
 
His father had done great things at their bidding.
 
His inventions and his innovations, as well as many of the technologies behind the existing infrastructure of the city, had made their lives easier. Euphrankes, rather than proving helpful, had done little in his life but cause them a long string of headaches for which the only cure had proven a semi-banishment to a private dome outside the city.
 
He wondered grimly where they might send him next if he angered them sufficiently.

A phlegmy cough broke the silence, and Euphrankes stood as calmly as he could, facing the length of the table.
 
It stretched interminably into the distance, and at the far end, in a dim pool of illumination, High Councilor Cumby sat and gazed back at him.
 
At least, Euphrankes assumed the High Councilor was looking at him.
 
At such a distance he might have been asleep, or facing the opposite way entirely.

"Good morning, Euphrankes," Cumby said.
 
Despite the distance, the acoustics of the chamber amplified the old man's voice so that it seemed the two were standing side by side.

Euphrankes bowed very slightly and kept his expression as devoid of emotion as possible.
 
He didn't believe there was any chance of his request being approved, but he didn’t want to give them new reason for their denial before they'd even spoken it.

"It is an honor, as always," Euphrankes said.

"Is it indeed?" Cumby asked.
 
"Well, we shall see.
 
I would like to extend my condolences on the loss of your father.
 
He was a great man.
 
He will be sorely missed in the city, and in these chambers.
 
I pray that his passing was a gentle one."

"It was," Euphrankes said.
 
He was surprised at how close his voice came to breaking as he spoke those words.
 
His father
had
been a great man in the city, but the man Euphrankes remembered – the brilliant mind that had shown him the magic of metal and gears, steam and pressure, mathematics and theory – had been the rock in his life.
 
His father had kept him busy and sane when he'd wanted to rail against The Council and their rules.

"One of the last things he said to me," Euphrankes added, trying to be as politic as possible, "was that I should send his regards to this council.
 
I've chosen to carry them personally, and hope that you will forgive the indulgence."

A soft murmur ran about the table at his words.
 
Euphrankes figured they were nodding and patting one another on the back.
 
They'd always believed his father to be their tool – a man who would do as he was bid and give no argument.
 
So unlike his son.

In truth, for every project Edwin Holmynn had completed for The Council, he'd completed a dozen others in the streets, taking care of those in need, and studying ways and means to move beyond the stagnant, dying city he'd called home.
 
When a small outlying branch of the veil-roads had become untenable, it was Edwin who, through judicious use of his influence and several daring trips by air, between veils, had salvaged the complex to which his son had been banished.
 
It was as if he'd glanced into the future and prepared a safe haven against the inevitable.

None of that mattered now.
 
What mattered was that the city was dying, and these old fools didn't care.
 
They would be perfectly content to sit back and watch, their laws fiercely clutched in liver-spotted, blue-veined hands, as the city shrank around them, becoming in the end a mass coffin.
 
None of them had that many years of life left, and an equal number of them cared for the well-being of the inhabitants of Urv living beyond their immediate circle of acquaintance.

"We welcome you," the High Councilor said at last.
 
"We are informed that you have a request, and we are …eager …to hear what you have in mind.
 
Your family has always served the needs of The Council, and of the city."

Again, Euphrankes gave his small, half bow.
 
Then he stood to his full six foot four inches and squared his shoulders.
 
He was a big man with a slender, muscular frame tapering to powerful shoulders.
 
His hair was long, and he wore it back over his shoulders in a braid, as his father had before him.
 
He knew that they could hear him if he spoke softly, but he chose to project.
 
He wanted to catch them sleeping and maybe, just maybe jostle them awake long enough to win their support.

"As you know," he said, "the roads between the cities are becoming steadily more treacherous.
 
Flights beyond the First Veil run at regular intervals now, carrying cargo and passengers.
 
Still, they are serving a shrinking world."

There were cleared throats and coughs around the room.
 
Euphrankes held his temper in check, and continued.

"It isn't just the cities.
 
The outlying factories and agricultural collectives are failing.
 
Power sources are limited, and the rituals do not always work to repair what has fallen to age or neglect.
 
It is a troubling time."

"Have you come," a voice piped up from his left, "to lecture us on the history of our world, young man?"

Illana Mirkos, eldest of the women serving on The Council, was a shrill, overbearing woman who had never forgiven Euphrankes' father for turning down her offer of marriage.
 
It would have elevated Euphrankes' family to a level where they might – one day – hold a seat on The Council, but Illana had been twenty years his father's senior, and she was insufferable.
 
She was least likely of all the members of The Council to look favorably upon anything Euphrankes proposed.

"No lady," he said, turning to acknowledge her, but unwilling to be cut off before he'd spoken his peace.
 
"I am here talking about our future, and whether, in fact, there is to be such a future if we do not soon take action to ensure it.
 
The prophets predict another ten years might bring a time when there is no ground travel between cities at all; how long can our cities exist without fuel, or food?
 
Our present fleet of airships cannot bear the brunt of such a catastrophe."

"And you have a solution?" High Councilor Cumby cut in.
 
"I assume by your prattle that this is why you are here.
 
You have some way to prevent the roads from crumbling, or to tie the cities one to the other?"

Euphrankes paused.
 
This was the critical moment.
 
What he proposed was actually not intended to help with the roads.
 
It would not, in fact, make moving supplies from one city to another simpler or cheaper.
 
His vision was more far-reaching than that of The Council, and the moment to show that divergence was upon him.

"I have developed a means," he said, ignoring the question and thus dodging the answer, "to travel beyond the Second Veil.
 
The resources of this planet are finite.
 
We lack the material or facilities to repair or rebuild what has fallen.
 
We must look outward, not inward for a solution.
 
We must look beyond the Second Veil, and I have created a ship that…"

Several voices rang out at once.
 
They ranged from high-pitched screeching to angry shouts.
 
High Councilor Cumby glared across the expanse of the table to where Euphrankes stood, letting the tumult grow until the room reverberated with the cacophony, then slammed his hand down on a button embedded in the tabletop.
 
A piercing shriek of sound emanated from amplifying tubes around the room.
 
The vibration of the sound met in the center of the room and swirled, swallowing all the words and screams and protests completely.
 
When Cumby released the button, the room was heavy with silence, and Euphrankes stood, his shoulders shaking with startled anger and outrage.