“I don't believe a word of it. It's a plot to restore the rule of Captita,” the man, old before his time, looked up from his morning paper to declare to the world in general and his son in particular.

  “Why would Captita want us back?” Jahon asked, “The fashion trade? Rags are universally out of fashion, dad.”

  “The academy....” his father started.

  “The academy is in some kind of internal civil war, with the astronomers teaming up with three quarters of the physics department, (which is odd in itself, given how they squabble over budgets) and various other lecturers from the weirdest mix of disciplines and mounting some kind of campaign to overthrow the administrative staff, who have cut their budgets and are threatening to lock people out of their labs. Every day I go I half expect to see some learned professor advocating eating the administrators to solve two problems at once.”

  “Your lectures are still happening?”

  “Yes, Dad,” Jahon said, “But admin staff sit in on them with security guards, to make sure the lecturers don't start advocating in lesson time. And the tests are getting weird, really end-of-the-world stuff.”

  “Weird tests. What's the world coming to?” his father asked, clearly unimpressed.

  “No, I mean it Dad, listen to this list from the last month. Biology: calculate the volume of a green-house necessary to sustain oxygen production for the population of the planet. Politics: what form of government is best suited to meeting the Tesk Challenge while facing a planet-wide disaster? Philosophy: If the population of the world faces a universal cataclysm, describe an appropriate response within the ethics system of your choice. Sociology: How would you inform the population that our only hope of surviving the next twenty years is to get the aliens to come back and help us without fragmenting society so much that they won't come? Astronomy: as 'the crown' interstellar dust cloud formation continues to encroach further on our solar system which primary, secondary and tertiary effects would you expect on our planet? Comment on any that would affect its habitability.”

  “So they all want to show how their studies might be globally important some time, What's new about that?”

  The student gave up, “Nothing dad, nothing. OK if I go out for a walk?”

  “What are you going to do about the high council?”

  “Do?” Jahon asked.

  “You students. You're supposed to be the guardians of radical thinking, aren't you? Rise up, smash them down, make fun of them at least!”

  “That's an idea,” Jahon said, “They claim they'll listen to concerns, don't they?”

  “You're going to talk to the so called high council?”

  “Why not? They're girls, dad. You keep going on at me about never talking to girls.” He didn't admit that he thought he recognised one of the names on the list as someone from the Christian Union. His dad, a firm atheist, wouldn't have approved at all of that link.

  “Tell them I don't hold with re-writing history!”

  “OK dad. I promise.”

  “Sashan! It was your name? You're on the high council?” Jahon said.

  “Hi, Jahon. Yes.”

  “You look exhausted.”

  “Something to do with lack of sleep. Want to tell me what brought you here?”

  “Well, dad says he doesn't hold with re-writing history.”

  “That's good. Want a booklet? Printed with the original historical plates.”

  “I'll take one, thanks. Can I get you something? Like a chair?”

  “I'm fine, Jahon,” Sashan said, despite appearances otherwise. “I'm off duty in half an hour.”

  “You're barely able to stand up straight, Sashan.”

  “Thank you for the vote of concern, Jahon.”

  “I'm not just saying it.”

  “I know. I know your concern for me is blotting out the thought that brought you here, I know you think I'm looking fragile and beautiful and that you're feeling protective and you're planning to stay and walk me home so I don't collapse half way. It makes a very nice change to feel cared for. But if I sit down then I'll fall asleep. I know, four of us fell into that trap at five in the morning, and it almost ended badly, when a half-drunk army captain came by. He's now being tried next door for a capital crime, and I'm not sitting down again.”

  “Will you allow me to hang around then?”

  “Of course.”

  “And walk you home?”

  “I'll let you escort me home, yes, once I'm off duty. But I'll need to get a cab; I'm too tired to walk.”

  “You're alone because of the army captain?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you've stayed up all night because...?”

  “Because we decided that we ought to be here all night, in case anyone wanted to raise a concern.”

  “I don't know if I ought to bother you with it, it's just academy stuff.”

  “Please don't make me drag it out of you, Jahon, I'm too tired.”

  “Admin staff versus astronomers and physics staff, research budgets slashed, experiments cancelled, scary questions in tests.”

  “Oh,” Sashan said, sadly, “more problems.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Good that you came. None of us has been to the academy yet, we're concentrating on trying to stop a war. But it looks like we need to sooner rather than later.”

  “A war?” Jahon asked.

  “Heard of the treaty for the eradication of human sacrifice?”

  Jahon nodded, he loved learning about obscure things, he'd sat in on a lecture series on historic international treaties, even though he studied physics.

  “Tew should have heard by now, the Isles and Caneth are certainly on their way. They know our plans that trials should begin and be properly conducted. If anything stops that then the combined forces of our three neighbours will not be on a friendly visit. The captain might be the first to be tried on Tesk for a century for following dum-semb, but he won't be the last.”

  “Dum-semb is the religion of the doom-guard?” Jahon asked, shocked.

  “Yes. It's named in the booklet, but don't break that news too quickly, please, Jahon. It's supposed to come out gradually.”

  “Sashan, if you're going against dum-semb, then don't go onto campus. Not without a big body-guard.”

  “That's why we've been leaving them for later. But if you could take some of those booklets to the Christian Union...?”

  “Of course.”

  “It's risky.”

  “Not compared to what you're doing.” She was risking attacks and worse and making herself a target, what sort of friend would he be to not play postman?

  “Helping me get home and taking risks just because I've asked you to doesn't make you my boyfriend, Jahon.”

  “I know, I'd need to ask you out first, write you poetry and serenade your window until you agree, things like that.” he said.

  “You can forget the serenading bit right now.”

  He couldn't help himself grinning, “That's a relief, the risk of a jug of water or worse always put me off.”

  “Getting yourself a girlfriend wasn't worth the risk?”

  “I don't want to collect a string of ruined relationships, Sashan. I heard someone say she didn't want someone else's reject, and that stuck. Why should half the C.U. be constantly juggling who's going out with who? That doesn't honour God at all.”

  “Because to half the C.U. or more, being in the C.U. is about finding someone, not honouring God.”

  “I guessed that too,” Jahon said, wondering how he could ask the question that formed on his mind.

  “There's something very wrong with our values that we don't dare ask that question, and it's nice I don't need to, but I will anyway. Will you tell me about your coming to faith, Jahon?”

  “Dad is a convinced atheist, and I guess I was a rebellious son. I listened at the C.U. debates. It was so obviously right to trust God. And so I joined and kept on listening.”

  “But you don't go to church.”

  “No, I'm not very brave.”

  “You don't want to hurt your dad.”

  “I know he'd react badly.”

  “No, you assume he'd react badly.” Sashan corrected. “I'm not saying he won't, but you don't know it.”

  “OK, I don't know it, you're right.”

  “And you rely on the C.U. for spiritual input.”

  “Yes.”

  “And that's one of the reasons you've not going to ask me out.”

  “Not being brave enough to risk rejection, not being brave enough to stand up for what I believe, not being brave enough to ask you about your faith, things like that. And not being such a predator that I'm going to ask you out when you're practically asleep.”

  “I noticed that. And you're not sure you know me enough or like me more than you like some other girls. Basically you don't want to make a mistake.”

  “It's almost like you're reading my mind.”

  “It's exactly what I'm doing.”

  “And you don't mind being bombarded by my conflicting emotions?”

  “I don't get many emotions, just the thoughts they stir. You want to protect me from yourself too, and that's nice. But remember, you could be having this conversation with any of us, pretty much. Except that there are a few married women and Rena's now going out with Gath.”

  “Do you have faith, Sashan?”

  “I do, we all do, on the council. But having not taken the opportunity to ask me about my coming to faith when I gave you that wonderful chance earlier, you're going to have to wait before I tell you. They're coming.”

  “Who's they?”

  “The other three,” Sashan said, “Gath, Dallew, Rena, how are you?”

  “Slightly sick feeling.” Rena said. “He was an acolyte, and he wallowed in what he had done to his victim.”

  “Nasty. Execution, then?”

  “He didn't realise what the law of Tesk says,” Rena said.

  Jahon quoted “A prisoner once condemned to death for the religion of the doom-guard shall have one opportunity to repent and turn from his sins, and no more than sixty breaths thereafter.”

  “This is Jahon,” Sashan said, “Officially a student of physics, but an avid collector of little-known historical facts. He's heard of the treaty.”

  “Do you need help with the body?” Jahon asked.

  “No, thanks, it's done.” Dallew said.

  “The trap-door over the cliff?” Jahon asked, he'd been on a tour once.

  “Yes.”

  “And we now know what those triangles set into the cliff are for,” Rena said. “Dallew broke his neck, just to make sure, but we don't need to. There's no way you could pretend to suffocate and then survive the triangles.” She gave a shudder, “Can we talk about something else?”

  “The academy administrators don't like Esme's letter, by the look of it. They're threatening to close down the project, and are sitting in on lectures to ensure that staff don't tell students what the project is.”

  “The idiots!” Rena said.

  “If it helps, they're dum-semb,” Jahon said, “Practically the entire admin staff. I did a survey in my first term for a sociology paper.”

  “I thought Sashan said you were studying physics,” Dallew said.

  Jahon shrugged, “I like optional courses for no extra course fees. I'd seen a lot of stuff about dum-semb on campus, and I did a comparison between academic and admin staff. I got a bit embarrassed when my naive statistics were showing a hundred percent plus or minus ten, and didn't want to hand in a paper that embarrassing, so I asked all but five people, I think it was. As an ignorant first year I got away with it too. Ninety nine percent plus or minus a half.”

  “They admitted it?”

  “My question was, now let me think... something like 'I've seen a lot of notices in the dormitories about the philosophical movement known as dum-semb on campus. Would you say that dum-semb is something that helps you?' Or it might have been 'has helped you'.”

  “What were the statistics for the lecturers?”

  “Overwhelmingly dismissive, except for one history professor who looked surprised, and said something like 'Really? Openly advertising now? That's an interesting sign.' and said it had helped him, and tried to recruit me.”

  “What did you say to him?”

  “I said I was studying physics as my main course, 'and I'm sure you know what most physicists think of any kind of philosophy.' And then said something about needing to gather more data.”

  “OK,” Rena said, “So, we need to add the admin staff to the list, and warn the others not to attend lectures without some bodyguards.”

  “Rena,” Sashan said, “Do we tell Jahon about the thing he's worried about? The lecturers are obviously trying to but are being prevented.”

  “We don't really need to add mass panic to the mix, quite yet, Sashan.”

  “We do need the labs operational and equipment not smashed,” Sashan replied.

  “Good point,” Rena agreed, “Let's think about it for a bit.” They went over to the corner. “Are Dallew and I allowed to know what you're worried about?” Gath asked.

  “Lots of lecturers asking questions to do with the end of the world. I guess the admin staff aren't bothering to read all the questions that get set.”

  “The end of the world?” Dallew asked.

  “How do we announce it, can we survive, what happens when the aurorae get stronger, that sort of thing.”

  “The what?” Gath asked.

  “Fires in the sky,” Jahon said.

  “Oh. But they're harmless,” Dallew asserted, “I read it ... oh. In the same paper that says the high council are a bunch of scared teenagers.”

  “Yeah. 'Scared teenager calmly signs death warrant and condemns army captain to death', doesn't quite ring true, does it?” Gath said.

  “I don't think I needed to know that, Gath.” Jahon said. “Leave some uncertainty about which of you three is the noble.”

  “Oh. Yes.” then he groaned. “We should have had Sashan there too.”

  Dallew nodded. “But we don't need to say who was or wasn't present. Please don't, Jahon.”

  “I've no desire to get anyone mobbed to death, fear not. Didn't the captain try to pull rank?”

  “It's illegal to obey an officer who's been suspended from service,” Dallew said.

  “I do like our constitution,” Jahon said. “All we need is more nobles and brave soldiers.”

  “Jahon?” Sashan asked, “Will you open to me?”

  “You mean, like share my most intimate thoughts with you?” he asked, turning to find she was standing very close to him.

  “That sort of thing, yes,” she said, locking his gaze with hers.

  “Is that, urm, wise?” he asked.

  “You mean in connection to you feeling brave enough to ask me out?”

  “Urm, yes,” he replied.

  “The worst that happens is I don't like something I see and say no if you ever decide to ask, and you'll never know what I'd say otherwise, will you?”

  “But maybe you see something so ugly that it ruins our friendship and you decide that you don't want me to help you get home.”

  “And maybe I'll see something so nice that you get a goodbye kiss on my doorstep, sealing your fate forever, who knows?”

  “That's not very likely, is it?” Jahon asked.

  “Will you open to me?” She repeated.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “It doesn't work like that, Jahon, either say 'sorry, I'd rather not', or 'I open to you.'”

  “I open to you,” Jahon said, and her hands were on his face, cradling it, cool and calming, but while she held him like this, his mind wasn't entirely his own. His memories were flicking past, clearly she was directing them. She was making him remember things, the lectures he'd had recently, with the admin staff. The test questions, how he'd asked others if they'd had similar ones, carefully not sharing that he'd had two odd questions, in politics and physics. Then his memories of his studies of law and politics and treaties, what he'd thought of the chanting of the anti-noble slogan in school (he'd hated it), and his relationship with his father. His mother's long illness, his fears, and where they'd come from? Who'd hurt him that he was so concerned about breaking relationships? And it went on, and on. Sashan was interested in what made him him, it seemed. Then she turned to what he thought of the council, in general, and her, and the people in the C.U. and in particular the girls in the C.U. Was Sashan looking to see if she had competition, Jahon wondered? But she wasn't lingering on appearance but character, as if she was comparing his analysis with hers. [Exactly] her thought came to him. He was surprised to hear her thought. [Interesting. Very useful, though.] and he sensed she was waiting for him to think something to her. [Why?] What was she waiting for? Why had she sought so much? [We don't have enough nobles. There should be fifty. I thought I'd be brave enough, but I'm not, I've realised; not confident enough in my decisions to condemn someone to death. You do not need to answer now.] She broke contact, with one hand, the other stayed resting on his neck.

  “There is a risk to the world, not immediately, but in some years. So the labs must be protected. The high council — which means all here in this room and we are still in session — ask you to deliver your parcel to someone in the C.U, but also try to find someone in the labs, a professor whose lab is under threat, and is not involved in dum-semb. Tell them this: 'The project has almost as much support as the treaty of all nations, and we expect the support is growing still. Caneth supports the project, informed by academician Teng, after an introduction by a guard. The Isles support the project, with prince Hal hearing the same introduction and information and passing it on to his majesty king Val. Duchess Hayeel of Repink, ambassador of the crown prince of Dahel supports, and has written a letter of introduction to her prince, begging him to listen and seek an audience for academician Teng with the emperor of Dahel.

  "The High Council of Tesk support, having heard prince Hal explain it a second or third time to King Val, and having heard of it from our members, princess-regent Esmetherelda, and duchess Hayeel. The paperwork for Caneth is with academician Teng.' Can you remember all that?”

  “Urm. I think so,”

  “Will you open to me again? I can help you remember it if you want me to.”

  “Yes.”

  His memory of her words replayed, again, again, and again. And not just her words: but the touch of her fingers on his neck; the scent of her breath and her hair; the feel of her hands now; all burned into his memory. “I expect you'll remember now,” she whispered. He was fairly sure he would. He looked into her beautiful eyes again, barely remembering to breathe.

  “Sashan!” Rena said, “Did you just do what I think you did?”

  “I've helped him to remember, Rena.”

  “Yes. But what will he remember?”

  “He'll remember what he wanted to remember, Rena. Nothing more, and nothing less.”

  “I hope he wants to remember the message.”

  “Would you like me to tell it to you? Right now I feel like I could impersonate Sashan's voice too.”

  “That'd be interesting. See if you can.”

  He knew he got the words perfect, he wasn't sure about Sashan's voice. It certainly sounded wrong to his own ears, too deep.

  “I'm now going to curl up and hide somewhere in shame. I don't sound like that do I?”

  “Don't be ashamed of your own voice, Sashan,” Rena said, “There's nothing wrong with it at all.”

  “Our voices always sound different, that's something I learned in the lab.”

  Jahon said. “We've got a thing there to make your voice come from the other end of the room. It'd work further away if we had the wires.”

  “Yes, Teng told Esme about it. And for really long distances you could use the Talking Rhythms.”

  “You spoke about 'the project.' What do you actually mean?”

  “I guess I should have said 'the grand project': call the aliens, within a year or two if possible. As I said, not all nations yet, but getting there.”

  “But not Tew.”

  “Queen Yalisa heard about it before she became queen.” Rena said, “She heard about her father's death and left for Tew almost immediately afterwards. She will support, I'm sure.”

  “Assuming the academy survives,” Jahon said.

  “No reason it shouldn't as long as the admin staff behave sensibly,” Rena said, “and there is not an automatic death sentence for those who repent before sentencing. But it's time for you to take Sashan home, the others come.”

  “There is a... a body,” the first reporter said, “at the foot of the cliff.”

  “A body? Intact?” Yana asked.

  “Urm, no, not intact.”

  “Oh, that's all right then,” Yana replied, “You had me worried. I'm sure the scavengers will tidy it up soon enough. A death warrant for involvement in the death-cult religion of the doom-guard was issued around breakfast time. A tattooed acolyte, who the high council heard had enjoyed his participation in a human sacrifice. In accordance with the laws of Tesk, once the warrant was signed, and he had an opportunity to repent and as someone capable of doing that was present, he was strangled to death within sixty breaths.”

  “Sixty breaths,” the reporter repeated.

  “You may check the law in any library,” Mari, Sashan's old class-mate, said. “Once a death sentence is passed for that crime, the culprit is asked if he or she wishes to repent of their sins, but they must be dead within sixty breaths.”

  “And you took it on yourselves to issue that death warrant?” the reporter asked.

  “Don't be stupid!” Yana said, “That's not the high council's task! A baroness heard the case and passed the judgement, a descendent of baroness Arelan who killed the emperor.”

  “And that baroness is present now?” the other reporter asked.

  “No.” Yana said, “She found the crimes of the death-cult member very troubling.”

  “He admitted his crimes?” the first reporter asked.

  “He wallowed in them, and described them in very gory detail, I think hoping to scare the countess. We will not be releasing the name of the victim until we've heard that the family have been informed.”

  “The countess will do that herself?” the second asked.

  “Ideally she would. But there are not many nobles left, after the counter-revolution, and there are far more doom-guard believers than nobles. We asked her not to take such risks.”

  “Your numbers seem diminished compared to two days ago.” the first reporter asked, changing tack.

  “The high council is sitting in permanent session during this crisis. In other words, we're working shifts.”

  “And all the soldiers around, what are they doing?” the second asked. Yana guessed they were taking it in turns. So she asked Mari to respond.

  “Quite a few are watching you and others are playing cards by the looks of it,”

  Mari said. “A number of army officers have been temporarily suspended from their posts until they give testimony that they are not involved. The soldiers are here to help them not decide to do something illegal and stupid.”

  “How many officers have been suspended?” The first reporter asked.

  “All of captain rank and above, except one.” Yana said “He boasted that the whole officer corps was involved in his religion before he was executed. Clearly, for the sake of Tesk, we hope he is wrong.”

  “For the sake of Tesk, you can't suspend the entire officer corps!” the first reporter exclaimed.

  “Please read the treaty of all nations, also known as the treaty for the eradication of human sacrifice.” Mari replied, calmly “Once an accusation is made, the case must be tried. If the case is not tried or a proven culprit not equally proven to have repented of their sins walks free, then the result is war. We ask that the general public lend the nobles who will try these cases their full support and not take matters into their own hands, but these cases must be tried. As you can probably imagine, the accusations go beyond the army, but if the army are really forming a new doom-guard then they must be dealt with first. Thus all officers of captain rank and above have been suspended from their post and it is illegal for anyone to obey their orders.”

  “Mummy, this is Jahon from the Christian Union, who's been helping me keep awake on the way home from the high council.”

  “And have you been up all night too?” her mother asked.

  “No, maam, I went to talk to the council after an early breakfast, and persuaded Sashan she needed help.”

  “He has been very sweet,” Sashan said, looking longingly at the bench beside the kitchen table. “Can I sleep there? I'm so tired.”

  “Maam, if Sashan wakes up screaming... there was some unpleasantness at the council chamber at about five in the morning; a drunk came in and made some graphic threats.”

  “Oh! How terrible. He's under arrest now?”

  “Tried, found guilty. It's stated. Started,” Sashan said, sitting down on the bench and resting her head on the table.

  “He was an acolyte in the doom guard religion,” Jahon supplied. “I guess she means the executions have started.”

  “Sashan said there's going to be a lot,” her mother reported “I don't know if that's tens or hundreds.”

  “Certainly hundreds of trials, possibly a thousand.” Jahon said.

  Sashan's mother looked to her for confirmation, and exclaimed, “Sashan, you can't sleep there!”

  “With respect, I think you'll find she can,” Jahon replied. “Can you help her get upstairs? I need the table.”

  “Urm, to her bedroom?” Jahon asked.

  “It's on the left. My knees are bad and I can barely climb the stairs on my own. Sorry to ask you to do that, but I can't roll out the pastry with her there, and if I can't do that then I'll lose my job. Sorry, I know you probably need to leave.”

  “It's not the time, more whether it'll embarrass Sashan.”

  “She should have thought of that before she fell asleep there. Sashan! I've got to work, you can't sleep there.”

  Sashan raised her head, saw Jahon was still there and smiled. “Jahon's might decide he's going to be around a lot, mummy.” She said, clambering to her feet and supporting herself on him. “If he decides in my favour and feels brave enough to ask permission. And of course if he thinks I'm not too sleepy to give a proper answer.”

  “Well, that would be a change. What's happening to your lectures today?”

  “It's probably not safe for any of the high council to go to campus at the moment.” Jahon said, as he helped Sashan to the stairs. “They're going to have a lot of powerful enemies up there soon.”

  “But some good friends too,” Sashan declared sleepily. “Repeat the message, Jahon?”

  “Academician Visik?” Jahon said to the head of the electronics department, “Sorry to interrupt, but two years ago I was doing a survey and asked you about a certain group with a lot of influence in the administration department, and you reacted quite strongly. Is your opinion roughly the same as it was then?”

  “You mean that parasitic thing they call dum-semb? Absolutely! Cronyism is not a philosophical movement. It shouldn't be allowed!”

  “That's a relief. I've been talking to the high council, and they sent me with some copies of this little historic booklet, printed from the original plates. The appendix is informative, and they also sent a message of support.”

  “A message of support?”

  “For the project, as explained to various heads of state by academician Teng.”

  “Teng? We've heard nothing from him here.”

  “A letter was sent to the administration by princess-regent Esmetherelda. The high council and the nobility are dealing with cleansing the military first, sir, but I've told them about the situation here. The message of support is quite long, sir, is there somewhere better than a corridor for me to recite it?”

  “Come to the staff-room. What do you mean 'cleansing?'”

  “I mean there's been one execution already, sir. As you said, the religion of the doom-guard shouldn't be allowed.”

  The academic was quite for a moment and asked, “Dum-semb is the religion of the doom-guard?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Dear God! My wife's involved in it.”

  “The high council tell me that there is not an automatic death sentence for those who repent before sentencing.”

  “Repent. There's a good word you don't hear too often these days.”

  “Yes, sir. Hopefully that'll change.”

  “Why haven't they said? Why are they using 'the religion of the doom-guard' in all the papers?”

  “The high council are trying to do two things, sir. They're trying to avoid a general collapse of law and order with mobs ruling the streets and lynching people who are on the edges of it, and they're trying to have enough public dismay that the executions are accepted as a reasonable and proportionate response. They are not after everyone who's shown some interest, or said the thing about nobles. But there are a lot of suspects, and there's an old treaty that says if Tesk can't deal with it, the nations of the world will come and help, and if Tesk won't deal with it then it means war. The three fleets are on their way, but the monarchs and the council want the project protected. Dum-semb mustn't be allowed to damage or barricade themselves in the labs, sir. “.

  “Fighting in the academy?”

  “I've read the Tesk Challenge, sir. Dum-semb must be eradicated, or the project is pointless, and then we all die, don't we, sir?”

  “Nothing like capital punishment and the end of the world to give people some backbone, eh?” the academician said. “I should have argued with my wife years ago.”

  “I heard that the priestess who was discovered in Caneth repented while in gaol there. There is hope, sir.”

  “And she's not been sentenced to death?”

  “She has been questioned, but at the request of the High Council her formal trial will be here, under the laws of Tesk. I don't know what the sentence will be.”

  “So she still might be,”

  “I expect the judge will be looking carefully at previous cases for guidance. I know I would be. I would expect that that if you convince your wife to repent before being arrested, it would be a big point in her favour.”

  “And if I don't then it'd be a point against her.”

  Jahon thought about pointing out that she was dead if she didn't, unless she was never arrested, which wasn't likely now that Jahon could denounce her. And he would, he realised. “Are we here, sir?”

  “Yes. Yes we are.” He opened the door, “Academicians and researchers... this student brings us news about our missing friend Teng.”

  “The message is from the high council, concerning the grand project that Academician Teng proposed,” Jahon said. And he remembered Sashan's message clearly, and all the other things that she had helped impress on his mind, and he realised it was going to come out in her voice again. “I'm not sure how, but the high council member somehow imprinted it on my memory so well that I'm probably going to speak in her voice. I did the last two times I repeated it, anyway. I hope that doesn't prove too distracting for you. I guess I'll get over the embarrassment eventually.”

  “Interesting party piece,” commented one of the lecturers, “go on.”

  It did come out in Sashan's voice, with her phrasing, and with the memory of her so close. It was quite a pleasant memory, but he hoped it wasn't going to stay with him his whole life. Certainly not if he didn't take the plunge and decide to fix his attention on her.

  “It was council-member Sashan that told you that, wasn't it?” another of the lecturers asked as he reached the end of the recitation.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Very impressive mimicry skills there, lad.”

  “I couldn't do it normally, sir. It just sounds wrong if I don't say it like that, like... I don't know, trying to singing a very familiar song with a wrong note in the middle, you can't persuade your vocal chords to do it.”

  “Did they say anything else?”

  “I told them that something like ninety-nine percent of the administrative staff are involved in dum-semb, so they will be called to testify sometime. First the army officers, though.”

  “First the army officers what?”

  “Officers of the rank of captain and above have been temporarily suspended from their posts, and will be invited to testify before the high council concerning their links to the religion of the doom-guard, and if they choose to commit perjury then they will be executed in accordance to the laws of Tesk. And if they are involved, then they will be tried by a noble, for a few have made themselves known to the high council, and the trial will have at least one high council member present, and witnesses. And again, the laws of Tesk will be adhered to strictly, as will the principles laid down in the treaty of all nations. They also told me that the admin staff must not be allowed to interrupt the project.”

  “All very well to say. How do we stop them?”

  “A letter detailing most of what I have said about the project was sent to the academy administration, several weeks ago, also detailing the financial support that would be coming,”

  Jahon said. “I presume there is some method for the academy to require correct behaviour from its administrative staff. Or are they state employees?”

  “State employees, and we have got no say in who the state employs.”

  “But a state employee may be suspended by a noble.”

  “Do you know any?”

  “If none of you feel able to visit the high council yourselves, I could go back and deliver a letter to them this evening. They are happy to listen to concerns, and I'm sure they know who they've sworn in to office, even if they're carefully not telling, for obvious reasons.”

  “The people they try will be telling tales, though.” one of the astronomers in the room said.

  “Not the guilty ones,” Jahon said. “And since according to a little booklet I've read the doom-guard religion says turning your back on it is a death-sentence, then I doubt anyone who escapes death at the hands of the judge will want to talk to their old friends. And if it's a false accusation, well, what motive would the person freed have for putting the judge who freed them in danger?”

  “A general dislike of nobles, of course.”

  “Drummed into them by the doom-guard indoctrination campaign, yes. Excuse me sirs, I have a lab session I need to do some reading before.”

  “You look thoughtful,” Jahon's dad greeted him.

  “Hmm. yes. Lots to think about.” Jahon looked at his dad, and decided that maybe, just maybe, he'd get a sensible answer out of him. “Dad, when there are three girls I've been thinking I like, and one of them turns out to be on the high council and I had a really long chat to her this morning, and I'm pretty sure that if I asked her out she'd say yes, so.... do I?”

  “Good points, bad points?”

  “She's probably the bravest — well, she went to Caneth, didn't she? I'm not sure which of the three is the prettiest, but they're all nice to look at. I like her voice, I admire her attitude. I'm terrified about the dangers she's facing. The other two don't stand out so much, except that the one who's cleverer likes doing things I'd find uncomfortable, like going to wedding receptions uninvited. So I guess that makes number three the safe comfortable and not so clever option.' “These three all at the academy?”

  “Yes dad, none of them are dumb. Oh, I guess number three's unusual because she's not local, she's from Tew.”

  “Any of them got boyfriends already?”

  “I assume not.”

  “Well, grab one, try her out, throw her back in the pond if you don't like her.” his dad said callously.

  “Is that what you thought when you started dating mum? Chuck her back once you've left her hurt and wounded?”

  “Your mum shone so much there was no comparison. I wasn't going to chuck her back.”

  “Really? I thought you said you had lots of girlfriends.”

  “Not after I really started talking to your mum, about faith and stuff.”

  “You talked to mum about God?”

  “I thought I believed in him before she died, son.”

  “I never knew that. There're all in the Christian Union, Dad, like me. and I'm pretty sure they've all got faith.”

  “You never go to church.”

  “I didn't want a row with you. I always go to C.U though. They have good speakers, mostly.”

  “Go to church, a good one. Don't ruin your faith like I did.”

  “Are you sure you're an atheist, dad? I'd much rather you made me a liar than have Sashan call you out when I invite her over.”

  “She's got a name then?”

  “Yes, Dad. A name, a mum, a home, death in the family, hunger at the door, all the normal things. And she's got a job which might pay her and might get her killed, and she's got a faith and she's no longer afraid to talk about it. So I guess she does shine. What about your faith?”

  “I once told God that if he's real then he's got to make you stand up to me. I had two girlfriends, Jahon. They were pretty, and they both left me hurt and wounded. Your mum wasn't the prettiest, but I realised really quickly that she was the best, and that she needed me as much as I needed her. That's what makes a marriage. I make a lousy atheist, son. I keep telling God he ought to stop you making mistakes.”

  “Can I pray for you Dad?”

  “What for?”

  “As Sashan said when I opened to her, It doesn't work like that.”

  “You 'opened to her'? What does that mean?”

  “Let her explore my mind. I didn't want to let the fact that I trust her that much decide me. But it has to really, doesn't it? I certainly don't trust number two.”

  “And number three?”

  “Doesn't shine, doesn't push herself past what's sane. Hasn't asked me to consider being a stand-in noble.”

  “A what?”

  “There aren't enough nobles to try everyone.”

  “Not enough nobles. I didn't think there were any willing to admit it.”

  “There's a growing pile of broken corpses at the foot of cliff waiting for high tide that says otherwise. Some of them are there for perjury before the high council, and there are some bodies swinging from the gallows for the treasonous act of taking up arms against the high council. They got tried by a military court. But most of the body-parts in the pile are from doom-guard officers. Oh, I know it's not likely, but please don't try catching crab, dad. If the price hasn't plummeted yet, it certainly will.”

  “Lobster too?”

  “I didn't look too closely. There're some really big crabs though, helping themselves to a free meal of perjurer or doom-guard.”

  “Your great-granddad always said, his grandad told him 'Don't catch the bigguns, you don't know who they et.' I never did tell you about how your great-grandma and your great grandpa met, did I? My Dad's dad?”

  “I don't think so.”

  “Your great-grandad was a fisherman, just like everyone in the line except you. We're going back seventy years now, you realise, to when he was about twenty And he much preferred the sea to the land, because the land that time was full of mobs. And one day, he was out in his boat, along the coast, and he saw a mob at the top of the cliff, and they were throwing a whole family off the top. First the grandad, and the grandma and the dad, and the mum, then the kids. Three kids it was. And the mob was cruel and heartless and playing games, how far could they throw them into the water. And your great grandad was sick to think that he'd been trying to get away from it and now they were chucking corpses right into his nets. But he decided to at least give the poor victims a proper burial. And he pulled the net and put the bodies as respectfully as he could in the boat, only the girl wasn't caught, because she'd been thrown furthest, see? And he went out to get her. And she looked at him with her ripped clothes and her dead family in his boat and she said, 'Leave me to drown.' And he said, 'you're too pretty to drown,' and she wept as he pulled her into the boat, and tried to throw herself back in the water. 'Won't you at least help me bury your family? There's a cove you can only get to by sea.' And she did help him, and he said, 'Do you have friends you could hide with?' and she said she didn't want to be the cause of any more deaths, she'd stay and die beside her family. 'You're not going to kill yourself, are you?' 'No, I'll stay here and starve.' And so for the next week, maybe even a month, he brought her blankets and food every day and made sure she ate it, and after a while she'd help him fish and she'd always looked more like a fisher-girl than a landsman's daughter. Then there was a storm, and he couldn't go, and the next day he said, 'Winter's not long away. If I keep coming here then people will suspect. It'd be safer for me and my parents if you came to live with us.' And they pretended that she'd been fishing with her dad and been shipwrecked in the storm, and he'd found her adrift at sea. And the next spring they married.”

  Jahon, knowing that his grandfather's siblings had died without children and his father was the oldest of his siblings, said “You are a noble, dad.”

  “What do I know about noble-ing?”

  “You know about right and wrong, dad. There's supposed to be a teacher's salary with it, and it doesn't put your back out. I don't know when you'll get paid, mind you, or what a teacher's salary will buy you.”

  “Better than the fishing on a stormy day, that's sure,” his father mused. “So there's a few doom-guard in the army. Then what?”

  “Then there's the administrators at the academy and the politicians and then there's the general public. The doom-guard is pretty much everywhere except the fishing fleet, I expect. I can't imagine them fishing anyway, that's much too common.”

  “I'm too common to be noble.”

  “They're noble in the sense they never mixed with the doom-guard, dad, never tried to get ahead by trampling on others, or get others to do their dirty work for them. You said great-grandma looked like a fisher-girl. Did she need teaching how to fish? And how many landsmen learn to swim? Back then there wasn't much work for nobles, I expect, and the family would have needed a trade. Dad, if someone offered you the chance to get ahead in life by joining an exclusive little club and treating outsiders like dirt, you'd throw them in the harbour, wouldn't you? That's what dum-semb, the doom-guard religion is all about. Trample the little people because they're just sheep for the slaughter anyway.”

  “You're fighting dum-semb?”

  “Not as personally as I'd like to, but yes, dad. I'm going to lend what support I can to Sashan and try to persuade my dad to do his duty to Tesk and honour the God who made him all at the same time.”

  “Your mother was dying and the doctor wouldn't come because he was just on the way to dum-semb meeting and couldn't be late.” His father looked at him and sad, “You're not going to be doing much studying if you do all of those things.”

  “Lectures are cancelled until further notice due to the chaos at the academy. The lecturers have decided to stand up for their constitutional rights to not have government-appointees in their lecture rooms or research buildings, not until the nobility and the high council can guarantee that there are no followers of the doom-guard religion in the midst of the admin staff, and I also heard that they've formally voted that any academician or lecturer who won't heap scorn on dum-semb is suspended until they face trial. I was thinking that I'd catch some sleep now, go fishing with you 'till midnight or so, and then go see if I can help Sashan.”

  “Can we go out now? I've set some lobster pots. If the price is going to plummet, it'd be worth pulling them up early.”

  “Certainly, dad. And if the price has already dropped, we can always eat them ourselves as long as we know they're not contaminated.”

  “True lad, true.”