Part 34 (1/2)
While failure turned on the lack of it. ”I'm sorry about the boot factory, too. Even though I didn't see anything in Rottlezinder's room except for him, Errol and the portal hex, there might've been information hidden elsewhere in the building. I wish I'd been able to investigate more thoroughly. Still... maybe Mister Dalby can find something in the debris.”
”It's unlikely,” said Sir Alec. ”Which is also unfortunate. But under the circ.u.mstances-all things considered-I appreciate that your choices at the time were limited.”
Gerald waited for the inevitable, sardonic reference to Stuttley's. When it didn't come he felt himself relax, just a little bit.
”So, all in all, an eventful evening,” Sir Alec said, his steepled fingers tapping each other.
”Yes, sir,” he sighed. ”Eventful is one word that springs to mind.”
Sir Alec's gaze narrowed. ”The thing is, Mister Dunwoody, that when one is a.s.signed a watching brief, the emphasis is generally placed upon watching. But it seems there has been rather a lot of running about in this instance. Also some very... creative... uses of thaumaturgy.”
He swallowed. ”As you say, sir. Things got a bit eventful.”
”And then, of course, there's the matter of the docilianti compulsion,” Sir Alec continued, ignoring that. ”If I recall correctly, I believe I made quite a point of telling you how rarely such a dangerous incant is to be employed. And yet here we have you, a junior janitor, whipping it out at the first opportunity. Tell me, Mister Dunwoody, do I misremember the facts or were you not quite... opinionated... regarding the uses of such thaumaturgics?”
Sir Alec's voice was mild enough, his expression perfectly bland, but behind his grey eyes something dangerous waited. Gerald felt his jaw tighten.
”I know what I said about that kind of thaumaturgy, Sir Alec. And my opinion hasn't changed. But under the circ.u.mstances I didn't think I had a choice. We had to get out of there, and Errol-well, I knew Errol wasn't going to co-operate. And there wasn't a lie I could tell him that he'd believe.”
”No, no I don't suppose there was,” Sir Alec said at last, musingly. ”Given your colourful history. Tell me, Mister Dunwoody, how did you manage to breach Rottlezinder's perimeter warding hexes? I don't recall you mentioning that.”
He kept his gaze steady, his expression unchanged. Watch yourself, Gerald. This man is no-one's fool. ”I don't recall mentioning that there were any warding hexes, Sir Alec.”
Sir Alec smiled. ”Perhaps you didn't. But there must have been some, surely. A man like Haf Rottlezinder would never leave himself exposed and unprotected, even in such an obscure location. Everything we know about the man suggests he'd have himself warded to the stars. So. How did you successfully breach his defences?”
Seated on the other side of Sir Alec's imposing desk, in the remarkably uncomfortable wooden visitor's chair, Gerald dropped his gaze to his knees. Well. Hadn't he been an idiot, to hope Sir Alec wouldn't put his finger precisely on his story's omission? The question before him now was how did he handle the situation. Reg's uncharacteristically solemn warning echoed in his memory.
If I were you, I might be a bit... careful... about what I said in my reports to that Sir Alec.
The warning only echoed his own misgivings. He might've spent the last six months here in Nettle-worth, being poked and prodded, but that didn't mean he knew Sir Alec any better now than five minutes after they first met.
All right, yes, Monk says I can trust him to fight the good fight, but how does Monk know that? He'd never lie to me... but that doesn't mean someone wouldn't lie to him. And I have no idea what Sir Alec really thinks of my abilities. For all I know he already sees me as a threat...
Sir Alec cleared his throat, very mildly. Too mildly. ”Mister Dunwoody,” he said, suspiciously pleasant. ”I feel it would be a great pity for you to thrust a spoke in the wheel of your brand-new career by choosing, at this point, to tell me anything less than the whole, unvarnished truth.”
He looked up, straight into Sir Alec's unnerving grey eyes. Eyes that had looked upon death, and worse than death, for more years than he cared to think about. And he realised he'd reached a kind of crossroads, without ever noticing the journey or its destination. He'd thought he'd made his final choice in New Ottosland. That Sir Alec's offer of joining the Department was the defining moment of his life.
But he'd been wrong. This was the defining moment of his life. Because after the factory, and Rottlezinder, he knew from the inside just what he was getting himself into. It was the difference between looking at a rapid-filled river... and swimming in it.
So. Did he want to keep swimming? Or did he want to get out? Was Sir Alec a man with a life preserver or was he someone with a long pole waiting to push him under the surface to watch him drown? There was no way of knowing. Not for certain. It all came down to a question of faith.
Either you trust him or you don't, Dunwoody. The time has come to make your choice: p.i.s.s or get off the Department pot.
”I don't know how I did it,” he said, shrugging. ”I was thinking about sticking my toe in the door, and the next thing I knew a tiny thread of my potentia had woven itself into Rottlezinder's warding hex. I didn't plan it. It just happened. And somehow I was able to pa.s.s through the barrier undetected.”
”I see,” said Sir Alec, after a moment. ”How very... creative... of you, Mister Dunwoody.”
He shrugged again. ”I don't know about creative, Sir Alec. All I know is that it turned out lucky for Errol. If I hadn't-improvised-he would've been blown to bits, just like Haf Rottlezinder.”
”Yes indeed, he certainly would have,” murmured Sir Alec.
He leaned forward. ”Look, sir. I've no idea what you know about me that I don't. I don't know what all those tests have told you. And to be honest, right now I'm too tired to care. But let me tell you what I know about me. I agreed to join your Department so I could make up for what happened in New Ottosland. All I'm interested in is stopping people who hurt other people with thaumaturgy.”
Sir Alec unsteepled his fingers, and instead laced them across his lean belly. ”Yes, Mister Dunwoody. I am perfectly aware of your motives for joining this Department.”
”Maybe, but I don't want there to be any misunderstandings,” he retorted. ”I never asked to be a rogue wizard, Sir Alec. If I could undo it right now, believe me: I would.”
Sir Alec's eyebrows lifted. ”Really?”
”You asked for the truth. That's it. I'll always be truthful with you, provided honesty doesn't get someone hurt.”
”Mister Dunwoody...” Sir Alec sighed. ”Surely you've learned by now that life is rarely so cut-and-dried. Telling the truth frequently results in casualties. That is the nature of our business. It is sadly too often how this wicked world of ours works.”
”I know,” he said, uncomfortable. ”I suppose what I'm trying to say, Sir Alec, is that while I might work for you, that doesn't mean you own me. And it doesn't mean I'm going to let you spend six more months poking and prodding and investigating me to satisfy your curiosity about just what makes me tick. You take me or leave me the way I am, flaws and all, right here and now. And if there's more about me and my rogue powers to discover, then I say let's discover them while I do what I joined this Department to do. Because otherwise, I don't see any point in me staying.”
Sir Alec's wintry smile appeared then disappeared, like a sparkle of sunlight on dancing water. ”What a forthright young man you are, Mister Dunwoody.”
”I try to be,” he said, making himself meet Sir Alec's unforgiving gaze. ”And I try to learn from my mistakes.”
”Yes, well, I'd advise you to learn from this one,” said Sir Alec. ”Do not edit your reports to me, Mister Dunwoody. I'm not sure if it's occurred to you, but trust is in fact a two-way street.”
The girls. He winced. But I can't drop them in it. Nor Monk. I'll just have to do a better job of keeping them out of things after this. ”Yes, sir.”
”Hmm,” said Sir Alec, eyes narrowed. Then his expression relaxed. ”And now, to celebrate the establishment of our new and deeper, more trusting relations.h.i.+p, I will share with you some rather alarming news about your erstwhile superior Errol Haythwaite.”
Gerald sat up. ”He's not dead, is he? I mean, I took every precaution with that lab explosion, Sir Alec. I know I timed it right, and jiggled the prototype's engine matrix not a single thaumicle past what I needed to, and I absolutely protected him with-”
”Relax, Mister Dunwoody!” Sir Alec said sharply. ”I realise you've had a morbid night but there's no need to a.s.sume everything is about death.”
He swallowed. ”Sorry. So-Errol's all right?”
”He's not dead,” said Sir Alec. ”But I'm afraid to say that he's far from all right.”
Oh, lord. ”What's happened now?”
Sir Alec got out of his chair and moved to stand at the window, gazing into the slowly lightening sky. ”What can you tell me of Jandria, Mister Dunwoody?”
”Ah... not an awful lot,” he said, staring. ”Um. They were the instigators of the last big war. Must be coming up to forty years ago. They lost. They were required to pay some pretty steep reparations and made to agree not to rebuild their-oh.”
”Yes,” said Sir Alec, at his blandest. ”Oh indeed. They were made to agree not to rebuild their military capabilities.”
He felt his heart thud, sickeningly. ”Are you saying the Jandrians have broken the terms of the armistice?”
”I'm saying we've received reliable intelligence that they are working on a secret fleet of military airs.h.i.+ps,” said Sir Alec. ”Incorporating some of Errol Haythwaite's most innovative thaumaturgical designs.”
Gerald felt his jaw drop. ”What? No. That can't be right. I mean, Errol's a lot of things, Sir Alec-” pillock... plonker... t.o.s.s.e.r... ”but he's not a traitor.”
Sir Alec turned from the window. ”No? And what makes you so sure of that? It wouldn't be the first time a Haythwaite has let down his country.”
I'm so tired, and this is all going too fast. ”Sorry, Sir Alec. I don't know what you mean.”