Chap. 363 The Scoundrel Absconds

Chap. 363 The Scoundrel Absconds

“I know it’s getting warm in here,” T’balt said, “as our engineers haven’t quite figured out how to get the ventilation system to work. So if you all grant me some patience, we’ll get through this headcount just as quickly as possible.”

He paused as a peal of thunder drowned his words out.

“You’re right, it’s getting hot in here,” someone in the crowd said.

“Yes, but you must admit, it’s dry.” Everyone could hear the pounding rain on the rounded roof. For many, the sound was still unusual, almost everyone having grown up in caverns.

“Aye, that’s what they insist at Ista, ‘but it’s a dry heat’.”

“Not in here, mate!”

“Can you tell us sir, WHY we’re here?”

“I can,” said the Councilman,” but first, we must do a roll call. I’ll start with Admin. When I or my colleagues here call your name, say “here” or “present”.

Ready? Benedict.”

“Here, my Lord.”

“Evvelin”

“Here!”

“Fleming.”

The strident woman shouted in a falsely deepened voice, “Here.”

A gasp went up. Evvelin, Admin’s Chief said, loudly so that the crowd could hear, “Excuse me, but you are not Fleming. Fleming is the male Shipping Chief.”

The woman puffed up. “That’s what I want to confront you with. He’s not here, you keep sending him on these odd journeys, making him work all hours of the night, and I’m sick of it. My lords, that woman is so lazy, she had my husband doing all sorts of things he’s not trained for. I’m sick of it, I tell you!”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Evvelin gasped, flabbergasted at the accusation.

The woman pushed her way through the crowd until she was at the foot of the podium. Her face flushed scarlet, she pointed an angry finger at the Admin Chief.

“That woman, my lords. Evvelin. She’s got it out for my husband. He was Finance Chief and she demoted him out of spite. Now, she’s made it so that he’s having to go in at midnight, one in the morning because someone messed up the shipping schedules.”

“I see,” said Lord T’balt. He looked at the other council members. D’nis raised one quizzical eyebrow. I’m glad we on the Council have been told exactly what’s been going on, he thought. We’ve caught the criminal. Now it’s just a matter of prosecuting him. If we can find him.

“What is your name, ma’am?”

“Lavella.”

“Lavella, you are NOT a staff member, are you.”

“I might as well be, I do a lot of the things that Evvelin assigns Fleming. He’s overworked, and not getting paid for it.”

“He was Finance Chief and neglected to pay himself? Now I see why he was shifted,” someone snarked.

The crowd laughed.

Lavella gawped. “Um..”

“Technically you are not a staff member. You’re married or partnered to a staff member, in this case, Fleming?” Lord Cecilia said.

“Well, Fleming manages the money and I get some of it. So theoretically, I am staff.”

Evvelin caught the Council’s eye and shook her head an emphatic No. So this is one of the money leaks in Finance, she thought. He’s been giving her money. My gut told me it was Fleming from the start. Yes. All the unexplained expenses, small amounts here and there. Yes.

“I see,’ said T’balt. “How often, Lavella, has Fleming had to ‘work after midnight’?

“Since Turnover, four times, the last being the other night. He’s had to go in because as I said, someone in Admin screwed something up. Why can’t he do it during the day? Why, Evvelin?”

The Admin Chief looked at her with ice in her eyes.

“Lavella, trying to deflect blame onto me and my staff isn’t going to work. You might not believe this, but Fleming is lying. Not once have I assigned him work that he can’t handle. In fact, he was shifted-not demoted-from Finance to Shipping because his work wasn’t up to standards.” Not to mention discrepancies in his ledgers, she thought, but it always seemed to balance out once he was questioned on it. I don’t know enough about money handling to be able to say quite how he managed to fix it. Maybe that’s what he was doing in the dark hours, shifting money from here to there. Even then, some things just didn’t balance out. But as he was Finance Chief, we all believed him.

“Not once have I sent him on journeys elsewhere. Not once have I told him-the man who handles shipping schedules-that he has to come in at midnight, to, as you imply, rectify an error in shipping schedules. Fleming collects the shipping reports and schedules from the ports, Lavella, he doesn’t make them.”

“He wouldn’t lie, not to me. You are.”

“Lavella,” Lord Cecilia said, wanting so badly to clobber the woman, “your tone of voice and verbal abuse of personnel here is disturbing. If you want us to listen to you, you had better treat everyone with respect and courtesy. These are things we teach our children. I shouldn’t have to remind you, a grown woman, to do the same.”

Lavella’s lip curled. The entire council knew they had been right. Fleming was missing, and had been since the night of the computer tampering.

“Do you understand, Lavella?” Cecilia snapped.

“Yes.”

“Just yes? This is what I mean, Lavella.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s Lord Cecilia, Lavella. Don’t make me remind you again. You might scream and bluster but you don’t frighten me in the slightest.”

“Yes, my lord,” Lavella said, her face twisting as if she had something squirming on her tongue. A woman being called a lord? What has the world come to?

“Lavella, where is Fleming?”

“I don’t know where he is. My lord.”

“How long has he been gone?”

“Um…four days, now.”

“Have you heard from him? Via datalink?”

“No, because the datalinks are all shut down.”

“No, they were back up within hours of our finding a problem with the computer. Do you have a datalink?”

“Um, no. I use Fleming’s, and he’s got it where ever you sent him.”

“Are you in the habit of using his duty assigned datalink?”

“Well, of course. I’ve been doing most of his work while he’s sleeping. He has to sleep during the day, as your hours are completely unreasonable!”

So that’s where he disappears to after lunch, Evvelin thought. And here I believed him when he said he had to interact with the various harbormasters through datalinks.

Data’s chief couldn’t keep himself from asking, Lavella, can you program a computer? Write code?”

“No, of course not. I’m a wife, not a geek. But Fleming does, he works on the database all the time.”

A man from the crowd raised his hand-and his voice.

“My Lords. We could listen to this questioning forever. Meanwhile, the vast majority of us are still waiting for a headcount, as well as an explanation as to why we’re doing this in the first place. With all due respect, my lords, could we go on with the scheduled head count so that we can all go back to work?”

“Yes, please, my lords,” another voice chimed in, “Would you please tell us why we’re doing this? What happened the other night?”

T’balt looked at the rest of the Council and decided.

“My pardons to all of you. You are correct. With the affirmation that only Fleming is missing, we can dispense with the headcount. With the exception of Admin, Science and Data divisions, the rest of you are dismissed, and thank you for your patience and understanding. Those of you who would like to stay here and listen, by all means, please do.”

With groans of relief, many left, despite the rain. But many stayed on. The temperature in the room dropped almost immediately.

“My lords,” Evvelin began to protest, stung at the implication that she was being singled out for censure. Damn that Fleming.

Lord Cecilia saw it. She held up her hand and said, “Chief Evvelin, of course, it’s not directed at you. We’re only saying that up until this moment, Admin was missing one person. And still is, but at least we know, now, who that one person is.”

“Yes, my lord, but..”

“It is no reflection whatsoever on you or the rest of your team,” T’balt said.

Evvelin subsided. Lavella smirked.

Why is Science being held back? K’ndar wondered. Unless, as Francie said, they’re wanting to talk to her and me.

Howel sidled out of the Science group. Raylan saw it out of the corner of his eye and snapped, “Howel. STOP. If you leave, I will consider it your resignation and you may continue on to your quarters and gather your belongings. Should you want to resign your position, do it here and now. Otherwise, you are still part of Science. Stand fast.” And you’re another pain in the arse I’m about ready to get rid of. Risal is doing a fabulous job at Flight Ops. Her apprentice, too.

Howel grumbled, but stopped. Raylan turned his head to see Miklos joining the crowd exiting the auditorium.

Raylan raised his voice. “Miklos, that goes for you, too. Stay where you are. Back in that corner, where you can hear. You don’t move until I release you.”

The exiting crowd laughed. The microbiologist pouted, and returned to his corner. Raylan saw Fafhrd lead Grafton to the same corner. If you’re going to try and engage Miklos in conversation, he thought, good luck. The most Miklos says is a grunt.

I’m no longer worried about hurting his feelings, he thought. He’s demonstrated no care whatsoever for society as a whole. He’s always submissive but still stubbornly ignores my suggestions to clean up. By the egg, yes, he’s always been insubordinate, but in a quiet way, not like that insufferable Lavella. Yes. He’s done. After this, I will arrange for his termination of duty. We might suffer for a while on the science side of it, but I’m done with him. How many times have I asked him, ordered him, even docked his pay! to bathe, to eat in his quarters rather than bringing food into the work space and then leaving it to rot? And he’s just flat out ignored me. Shaff, I wonder what his quarters look like. Or worse, smell. Maintenance will have to decontaminate it.

T’balt looked the crowd over, considering what tack to take. We’ve identified the big fish, he thought, but there’s still a good sized school of small fry in the crowd. They don’t know Data’s unraveling the data intrusion has also exposed their activities.

It’s astonishing, the petty thieves and influence peddlers who’ve been operating with impunity. Well, we have snares around their necks, now. We have the time to yank them tight at our leisure. They’ll lay low, for a while, then resume when they believe we just didn’t see their activities. How is it Finance didn’t see these? Oh. Right. Fleming was finance chief until recently. How easy it must have been for him to skim money from various divisions. He didn’t do it without help from the ones he was skimming from. I must commend Data and Admin both, once they found out that there were discrepancies in other divisions, they went over the data all over again, like starving chickens on oats.

If the thieves reform, we can then decide if we want to keep them here at Landing. If they don’t, we’ll dispense with them. Either way, this is the most important item on the agenda at the moment, he thought.

His thoughts were interrupted by an odd, groaning noise of metal from overhead. Then an ear splitting screech from long unused gears penetrated their eardrums. Over head, the roof began to split lengthwise. Rain began falling on the crowd beneath the panels. Screams of terror filled the air as the crowd bolted for the doors. Someone screeched “Earthquake!” The roof halves continued to retreat to the sides. Miklos was awestruck, looking straight up with what could only be triumph on his face.

“Hit Pause! Hit Pause!” Grafton shouted, Fafhrd transmitting Miklos’s hands to his master. The microbiologist stabbed at an unknown spot on the wall.

The roof halves stopped. “Hit Close!” Grafton ordered, and Miklos stabbed a spot on the wall. The screech repeated and the roof halves rumbled as they reversed course, slowly, finally closing with a solid CLUNK.

“What in the name of Pern happened?”

“That wasn’t an earthquake, is everyone okay?”

“I’m all wet,” someone shouted. “What happened, the building split in half?”.

Damn that Miklos, Raylan growled, rushing towards the microbiologist, knowing exactly what happened. “I can’t let you out of sight, can I, Miklos,” he snapped.

“Buttons control the roof,” the man said. It was quite possibly the longest sentence Raylan had ever heard him utter.

“So I see.” The microbiologist had found an inset door that had covered a trio of buttons. It was almost indistinguishable from the rest of the wall. Over the buttons were metal labels that said “Open Roof” “Pause Roof” “Close Roof”.

“Only because Fafhrd showed me what to do did it close,” Grafton said.

Orlon, whooping with joy despite being wet, ran to them, his face suffused with delight. “That panel! It’s almost invisible! The ceiling! It opens up from the top! Amazing! I wondered how they got those solar panels in here! Thank you, thank you!”

“Yes, but everyone’s wet,” Raylan said, “and Miklos, you should know better than to just start stabbing controls you know nothing about. “

Orlon shrugged. “It’s not too bad, sir. And the floor is plasticrete, it’s impervious to water. This is wonderful, now I’m going to check other buildings. Show me what you did, what’s your name? Mik? By the way, you need a bath, badly.”

“It’s probably the first one he’s had in months,” Raylan snarled. “Just SHOW him, Miklos, he snapped, “don’t activate anything ever again.”

Grafton laughed.

The Council members shook off the rain. The crowd resumed a haphazard form, some warily staying to the safety of the sides of the auditorium. “Imagine,” one said, “A building that opens.”

“Wait til Engineering gets word of this,” someone said, “They all left too soon.”

“Well, those of you who were complaining about how warm it was in here? I hope this impromptu shower has cooled you off,” Lord T’balt snarked, as he wiped the raindrop that had journeyed to the tip of his nose.

While some grumbled, most of the crowd laughed.

“Let’s return to this discussion. I know many of you are impatient to learn why we’re doing this tedious course of inquiry, but trust me, we need to establish who is responsible for what happened. I do want it done correctly.”

This Lavella is beginning to look scared, he thought. She knows something isn’t right, she doesn’t strike me as the most intelligent of women, but she…like me, like those of us who know what went down, is finally beginning to see that this isn’t just a personal vendetta. She’s not as self assured as she’d been just a few minutes ago, she’s beginning to question herself. She looks like a cornered wherry, actually, trying to figure out her next move.

K’ndar touched Francie’s elbow. “Lavella looks scared, doesn’t she.”

Francie nodded. “Aye, she does. Now I know precisely Who She Is, and I want some revenge. Watch this.” She pinged Motanith to contact Mondevuth.

Ask Lord T’balt to ask that loud woman who Paul is. Or better yet, ask me if I took someone to coastal weyr that day.

T’balt’s eyes unglazed and, meeting her eyes, winked.

He said, we must play chess some day, if you will spot me a knight. I was just about to go there Motanith relayed.

She caught his eye and gave the slightest-and most respectful-of nods.

T’balt felt a warm sense of camaraderie. No matter what job I do, I’m a dragonrider to my bones and most comfortable with them. I like you, Francie, you’re a fabulous rider, utterly honest and dependable, and oh so typical of green riders, fast on your mental feet. How did we luck out and get you and K’ndar I’ll never know. But you and him were the hammers that broke up this entire situation.

“Is Francie here? Green dragon rider Francie?”

“Here, my lord!”

“Francie, I know you’ve been transporting personnel on your dragon. Have you done that in the last, oh, four days?”

“My lord, I transported two people from Ar and Dee from the Printer Crafthall this morning in response to the Council’s directions. I had to make two trips, my lord, as you well know, green dragons aren’t up to carrying three people. Other than that, the last time was four days ago, I had a man wearing a lanyard that said Shipping, come up to me first thing that morning, he demanded I take him to Coastal Weyr’s port.”

“Was this scheduled transport?”

“No, my lord. He’d never made reservations. Each time it was unscheduled.”

“I see. You’d transported him before, then.”

“Yes, my lord, several times. This last time was the morning the datalinks were down, so I was going to go over to Flight Ops for weather and to sign out. But he said he was in a hurry, he had to catch a ship from the port. He offered me twice the going rate for unscheduled transport if we flew immediately, and an additional two marks for the big bag he was carrying.”

“Do you know his name?”

“My lord, the first time he came looking for transport, he said his name was Paul.”

“Paul?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Evvelin, who knew the name of every person who was-or had been-assigned to Landing, spoke up. “My lord, there is no one named Paul assigned to Landing.”

The remaining crowd was rapt, already forgetting that they had gotten a little wet.

“Chief, how many people are currently assigned to Shipping?” T’balt asked.

Evvelin grinned. “Other than Fleming, none. There wasn’t enough work for more than one person.”

“You lie, Evvelin. Fleming was always saying how much work you dumped on him.”

Evvelin looked across the crowd at Lavella.

“Lavella, you are wrong. I don’t want to be called a liar again. Should you do so, and since you seem unable to keep a civil tone, you and I can have it out right here in front of the crowd, hand to hand combat. I’ll even give you first blow. Would that suit you?” She can probably kick my arse, Evvelin thought, but it won’t come to that. She’s a bully and a coward.

“Uhhhhhh,” Lavella stammered, not used to being challenged to a physical fight. This is unfair, they’re coming after me, and Fleming needs to be here.

“It won’t come to that,” Lord D’nis said, actually wishing he could see a real fight, “Lavella, you owe Evvelin, and others an apology.”

Lavella shrugged. Not a chance, lout, she thought, but she kept it to herself.

T’balt sighed. I had no idea this would devolve into a pissing match. “Francie, would you please continue. So you only knew the man was named Paul.”

“Yes, my lord. I have to say, he was rude. And in a hurry.”

“Do you see him in this crowd?”

“Um, my lord, it’s pretty big, even with a lot of people gone.”

“Sir,” Data spoke up, “I can send pictures of assigned personnel onto that screen behind your heads.”

Evvelin typed as fast as she could, sending a message on her datalink to Data,

Put up five pictures of men, four chosen at random. Make sure one of the five is Fleming. This way Francie has to choose. It’s fair to everyone.

The man working the Data transmission understood immediately. That bastard has his dirty fingers all through the data chunks, he thought, he’s cost us four days of sleep and worry. I want his arse nailed to the mainmast, but I want it done right. Within seconds, Data sent a message back to Evvelin.

Done, my lady.

She caught his eye and winked.

He tasked the database to choose four pictures of male staff members at random, and one of Fleming and sent them to the screen, one by one.

Everyone listened for Francie’s choice.

Suddenly nervous, she felt the eyes of the crowd on her. No, I won’t forget his face. But, as the faces appeared on the screen, she said, “No. No. No.”

The fourth face drew an aggrieved shout. “Hey, that’s me, I’m innocent! I’m not Paul!” cried a male voice deep in the crowd.

Um…no.” Francie said, rattled. Did I forget what he looked like? No, I can’t. I KNOW that face.

The last one was Fleming, without a doubt. “Yes, yes. That one. That’s him, that’s Paul.”

Yes, K’ndar thought, yes. I’ll never forget that man. Now I know why that name was so familiar. He’s the one who heckled me when I was doing the presentation of the musk lizard.

“Francie, you’re sure this is the person you transported to Sea Coast?” T’balt asked, solely out of procedure.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Admin, is this Fleming?

Everyone in Admin yelled “YES!”

“NO, I mean yes, but she’s still lying!” Lavella yelled.

“I am not lying, Lavella and now I do most definitely Know Who You Are, do you remember? Threatening me when I refused to take you to Nerat? I’m tired of you calling me and anyone else a liar. Show me what you’re made of, Lavella. I’m ready, too, for a fight right now,” Francie snapped.

I haven’t fought since I was a kid, but enough is enough. I can take her. I saw F’mart fight and he taught me to hit while the other one was still boasting. I’ll fight like him, Francie thought.

“Um…” Lavella started, trying to remember.

“Lavella, why would your husband, Fleming, call himself Paul?” T’balt interrupted her thoughts.

“I..I..um, I think she’s mistaken. Paul is Fleming’s son’s name and they’re mirror images of each other.”

“Oh, no, I’m not mistaken, Lavella,” Francie said, “no, that was Fleming.”

Our fire lizards are getting upset Motanith warned, they want to come in and attack that woman.

Francie forced herself to shut down her battle readiness. Tell them it’s okay. I am not going to be hurt. They must stay outside with you.

Okay, but I am ready to protect you, too.

You are the best, my love.

“Is this son living here?” Lord Cecilia pinned the woman’s eyes, daring her to call her liar. Too.

“No, he, no, my lord, he lives at Southern Hold.”

“Has he ever been here? As a visitor, or with you and Fleming?”

“Um…”

Reception piped up. “My lords, give me a few moments, I can search the entry logs back to last year.”

“Please do, ma’am,” T’balt said.

Within a few seconds, the Reception Chief said, “My lords, I have no entry in the visitors logs of someone named Paul. Nor do I have anyone supposedly visiting Fleming. This log goes back a year and a half.”

“Thank you. Lavella, how old is Paul?”

“Now? He’s, um, he must be fifteen.”

“You don’t know? Is Paul your son by Fleming?”

“Oh, stars no. No. And I don’t go to Southern Hold. I don’t like his family.”

“Whose family?”

“Fleming’s family. Lord Toric is his uncle.”

Ahh, said a dozen voices. K’ndar thought, I am beginning to see a connection.

“Francie, how old would you say your passenger of four days ago was?”

“Much older than fifteen, my lord. I’d say, mid forties.”

Evvelin spoke up. “Sir, Fleming’s age is recorded as forty five, at this time.”

“This is ridiculous,” Lavella suddenly shrieked. “You’re all blaming my husband. Evvelin has always picked on him and now he’s not here to defend himself. Maybe it’s Evvelin that you should be grilling, not me.”

“Woman,” said Lord Lytol, his voice gravelly with age but still steady, “up until now I’ve maintained silence, but I am tired of your lack of manners. May I remind you that all members of the Council have equal rights in making decisions as to administration of Landing’s staff. Being Councilman Emeritus, I have the right to break any tie. We don’t always agree, but in this case, I have no doubt that all seven of us will agree without hesitation on what our decision will be.

If you don’t adhere to the standards of courtesy in this meeting, I shall send you packing. And I do mean packing. Your husband Fleming has been gone for four days, I have a feeling he’s gone for good. May I remind you, Lavella, that you, as his spouse, can only reside here as long as he works here. We have already discovered that he left of his own accord, without letting his Chief, Evvelin, know where he was going and why. It used to be called ay doubleyou oh ell-absent without leave. I know why, now, but before we continue, I shall ask Francie a few more questions. I caution you, should you interrupt the proceedings one more time, you will be banished immediately.”

Lavella gulped.

The attention returned to Francie.

“Dragonrider Francie, what happened when you transported Fleming to Coastal Weyr’s port?” T’balt asked.

“My lord, he got off and immediately went to the wharf to catch his ship. But, sir, as I was flying in, and again, as I gained altitude on my way home, I saw no ship in the port. There wasn’t even a ship below the horizon. No ship at all.

At the same time, a blue dragon appeared. The dragonrider was quite young, and his passenger was a very old, lame man. The passenger asked me for transport here, to Landing. I agreed, and after he’d paid me, I secured him on my dragon. Just then, Fleming came running back and demanded I take him immediately to Lemos Hold. I refused, seeing as I already had a passenger. He offered me twenty marks, my lord! but I couldn’t just evict my passenger. The blue dragon rider, though, more than happily took the twenty marks and, I assume, transported Fleming to Lemos Hold.”

“Smart lad,” a voice said, and the crowd laughed.

T’balt looked at Lavella. “Lavella, why would Fleming go to Lemos Hold in such a hurry? Without telling you?”

Lavella was sweating. “Um, probably to see his mother. They’re very close.”

“His mother lives in Lemos Hold?”

“Yes, my lord. Her name is Yvanna.”

Something went ping! in D’nis’s head. Later on, he would relate he had no idea why, but having seen the report on the intrusion before hand, it all made sense.

“Lavella,” he said, “What hold is Yvanna from? Lemos?”

“No. Originally from Southern Hold. Yvanna is Lord Toric’s youngest sister.”

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