The Absent Assassin 1

 another Quester story - I'm a good few chapters ahead which is just as well as I've not been doing too well.

I hope you will all enjoy exploring a bit more of Quester's rather watery world.

 

The Absent Assassin

 

Chapter 1

 

“So why does the Empire even need assassins?” asked Kiliana. “Isn’t there rule of law?”

Quester sighed.

“Yes... and no,” he said. “I... would prefer that there was no need for Assassins. Or the Purge. Or the Annihilation. I am sure that it pains the Blessed Abe. But there is a need to make sure that wrong thinking and Heresy are stamped out; it was wrong thinking which brought about the Cataclysm in the first place.  In the days in which the Blessed Abe, our God-Hero, walked on the earth, you might have walked dry-shod clear from Jinnya isles, which were a mountain range, to the Imperial mainland. And down south to the Chilbrasil archipeligo.”

“That seems incredible,” said Kiliana.

“The Cataclysm tore the earth apart as well as all the ice melting. The people of the time were caught between fire and water as many volcanoes erupted, and when the tattered remains of the first hussars got together and formed a government in the name of the Blessed Abe, they swore that they would not permit the false thinking to cause such trouble again, and they banned all religions which could not produce a photograph of their gods, and wiped out those who ignored the warnings, many of whom had been wealthy enough to retire to their own havens. Those havens became the seats of new growth. Then the Commutants set off terrible devices, some of which aided the volcanic dust in putting a stop to the heating of the earth; but most of them failed, for the Blessed Abe willed it so, and the only people they harmed were themselves; and still they believe themselves the chosen of Commin and his demons, Starl-in and Pyut-in, and they cause much trouble. But,” he sighed, “Though our own Hussars, not at first High Bred, took the rest of the world under the loving aegis of the God-Hero, at times they want independence and cause trouble. And it cannot be allowed, lest they start more cataclysm.”

“You make me understand it, Leo,” said Kiliana. “I’ve never had it explained so clearly before.  And I know so little!”

“You will learn, my child,” said Quester.  “There are four types of education, and a Justiciar covers all of them, the lowest the least.”

“And what are they?” asked Kiliana.

“The lowest is the vocational skill most people learn,” said Quester. “Even as you have learned to cook well, and make simple medicines from your time with the comfort-bringing auxillia. As I am sure you are aware, unless the Empire chooses to take a child or adolescent for training to higher position, everyone follows the trade of their father, unless they choose to join the militia instead. Yes, there are female militia units.  They tend to form whole units because it’s easier from the point of view of supplies.”

“People in the militia follow their fathers but the girls don’t all join the cooker-and-hooker units,” said Kiliana.

“There are other auxilia trades, as well as marrying other soldiers,” said Quester.  “And some offspring of the military return to their grandsire’s trades as it is learning by doing.  I’m trying to tell you about the three branches of academic learning that you need to know,” he added, testily.

“I’m sorry, Leo,” said Kiliana. “I like to know how and why things work.”

He nodded.

“I know; but the freighter will be here for us soon, and I want to get the basics out of the way before we go to Yurup.”

“Yurup?” she was startled.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m supposed to be an expert.”

“Aren’t they all barbarians there?”

“I was born in Yurup, you know, Kiliana. No, not barbarians, but less willing to embrace the ways of the God-Hero.  But they do not often rise up without a charismatic leader, and if such is removed, any revolt  is generally short-lived and not too harmful.”

“Oh!” said Kiliana. “Sorry.”

He ruffled her effulgent locks.

“The aristocracy learn their own form of education,” he said. “This is about management, law, leadership, and that may be specialised into military education, since most militia units are officered by the aristocracy, or into politics, for those who will be the rulers of their islands or extents, and many also have the leisure to learn about the arts as well. Oh!” he said.

“An idea, Leo?” asked Kiliana.

“I suddenly realised why that preposterous popinjay I demoted was so disparaging of the art of Reef Teeg, the private soldier who painted that exquisite picture of the God-Hero , and the other paintings I was able to find,” said Quester.

“I can’t see why he didn’t realise what an amazing piece of work it was,” said Kiliana. “Why, the God-Hero seems almost about to speak!”

“Exactly,” said Quester. “And I am sure that... Strong, that was his name... studied art because an aristocrat is expected to be rounded as an individual, and he resented that the work of a private soldier should be praised. I suspect the other daubs hung on the walls were his.”

“Oh!” said Kiliana. “That would explain a lot. Why should he get education in things he doesn’t deserve?” she asked, resentfully.

“Because aristocrats are supposed to be in the position they are because their bloodlines are strong and suited for the role; but it doesn’t always pan out that way,” said Quester, cynically. “Which is why the cleverer proletariat women are supposed to be chosen to be made consorts to those in power, to bring hybrid vigour and an injection of new blood to the bloodlines as their children will be noble, and are educated further to that end.  And it was fortunate that Governor Lussus chose Astelliana, who is shrewd, for her conversation as well as her looks, because when nobles are allowed to choose their own consort, most of the fools pick a pretty girl with as much brain as any Augsheep, thereby instilling even more incipient moronity into an overbred line already tending to imbecility.”

“But don’t hold back, Leo, tell me what you really think,” said Kiliana.

He gave a bark of embarrassed laughter.

“Oh, I let my prejudices speak,” he said.

“It right, though,” Burdock, Quester’s huge manservant, spoke up. He was an Ogroid, a metatype of humanity who had come about from the early experiments in making the High Bred as perfect soldiers; the Ogroids had the strength and size required, but tended to be slow-witted, not having the extra heart the High Bred had, to pump blood more readily to the brain, and with large fangs of uneven size rather than the razor-sharp teeth of the High-Bred, who were human weapons even naked, before they put on their armour and picked up weapons. Burdock showed signs of exceptional intellect for one of his kind, and liked learning. Quester hoped to get him an augmented heart, to give him a better chance of living to more than about thirty five.

“We all agree,” said Kiliana. “So what are the other two branches of education?”

“Science and Philosophy,” said Quester. “Both consider the other holds a lot of fallacy, and both are wrong. As a Justiciar, I have had to cover all three major academic branches, to be able to understand all, specialising in law, and there are branches of both science and philosophy which overlap. You will learn the same, Kiliana; but I’ll get you started, so you are not too far behind. I started in the Justice academy when I was thirteen.”

“What happens if you fail?” asked Kiliana.

“Usually you would be sent to a noble family as their atty, which is a word meaning law specialist,” said Quester. “Or work in the halls of justice covering lesser crimes than heresy.”

“Is it hereditary to be a science priest or a lit priest?” asked Kiliana.

“No, and again, often those of the proletariat who show signs of higher intellect are removed from their environment and relocated into an appropriate family,” Quester explained. “Which is not to say that there are not families who have been in the same field of study time out of mind, for there are. But it’s more flexible than either the aristocracy or the proletariat.”

“What does philosophy do?” asked Kiliana.

“To be honest, it’s a form of science which studies people, but as it’s not always exact and fully reproducible, the science priests look down on it,” said Quester. “I use it to solve mysteries, and in questioning people, finding out what will make them speak up. It’s more subtle and more certain than the crudities of torture, even if it may not be as clear cut as some scientific subjects. And I pray in my heart to the Blessed Abe to guide me in reading individual hearts rather than chant formulaic prayers to Benfranklin to make a machine go.”

“I thought the prayers were just a memory aid for the steps in using technology,” said Kiliana.

“Personally, I agree, but never say so to anyone else; the Geek Priests would hang you by your heels,” said Quester. “The problem is that they can reproduce much lost-tech, but don’t know what makes it go, so they use the prayers and formulae to make sure it works, and there are few enough with the time and inclination to research.”

“Am I wrong to think it is a little... counterproductive?” asked Kiliana.

“No, but again, be careful to whom you voice such opinions,” said Quester.

“Very well, Leo. Leo?”

“Yes, Killie?”

“What are you supposed to do about this rogue assassin? And in what way is he a rogue?”

Quester gave a wintry smile.

“I’m supposed to bring him in, dead or alive; his task was to put down the leader of an uprising. He’s been killing the aristocracy instead.”

“Sah, if they’re as much use as them ones on Attu, I sees his point,” said Burdock.

“Unfortunately, so do I,” said Quester. “We shall see what we find.”

“Are you supposed to find out what you find, or just to deal with the assassin?” asked Kiliana, shrewdly.

“Well, my orders are to deal with the mess made by an assassin going rogue,” said Quester. “I choose to interpret that... liberally.”

Kiliana brightened.

“I’m glad you don’t have to bend your orders too much,” she said. “Doing that makes you all dour and grumpy, and not like the Leo we all love.”

“Honestly, my child!  I’m not lovable,” said Quester, wondering why he felt heat come to his cheeks. “I fear, however, that you will not be able to pass as a boy; in the last few days you have suddenly become a woman.”

Kiliana pulled a face.

“It’s a nuisance; but Astelliana helped me a lot,” she said.  “She took the clothes allowance you gave me and purchased all I need to, ah, provide a foundation. And more... you know, for sanitation.”

“Er...” said Quester.

“Oh, Leo! Pads to absorb blood.  Because it was a bit heavier this time than it has been, and suddenly I get boobies as well.  Astelliana says it’s not uncommon. She reckons I wasn’t having proper ones or developing fully because I was malnourished before, and now I’m properly fed, I’m becoming a woman properly. I almost wish I hadn’t eaten more when you took me on, but it is nice to feel properly full.”

“My dear child, of course you must eat properly!  It proved useful that you could pass as a boy, but I don’t intend to rely on that. As a woman... and you will be a beauty when you have grown into your body... you can use that just as well for getting young – and not so young – men to blurt things out.”

“Oh, I am glad it will be useful,” said Kiliana. “And that you don’t mind.”

“I value you for yourself, Kiliana,” said Quester. “And your looks are of no moment to me.”

“Oh. Don’t you like me being pretty?” asked Kiliana, devastated.

“Of course I am glad that you are attractive; it will help your feelings of self-worth,” said Quester, kindly, patting her on the shoulder.

“So, do you prefer boys?” asked Kiliana.

“I beg your pardon?” Quester was taken aback.

“Well, if you only care about my looks for my own self-worth, does that mean that you only like boys and are unaware of me as a woman?” persisted Kiliana.

“Any man who is not aware of you who is not... er, of the other persuation, has to be blind, crazy, or living under a rock,” said Quester. “And,” he added, savagely, “I’ll make sure to protect you from those who try to force themselves on you, and teach you to take care of yourself.  But for me to notice your looks too much would be most inappropriate, since I am in the position of a mentor to you, and you are in my care.”

“Oh!” said Kiliana. “Oh” she added, “I see.  I will be glad to learn how to escape from anyone grabbing me.”

“Indeed, and we will start, if there is enough room, on the freighter. Which I can, I believe, see approaching the islands; it’s a dirigible. I expect they will be unloading and loading for several hours, but we can settle into our quarters, and I can get on with your education. And I am sure Burdock wants to learn more, too, as he seems to have been untrained in much,” he added, kindly.

“Yes, sah!” said Burdock. “I wants to learn how to subdue people wivout hurtin’ dem, an’ I wants to learn about new places, an’ as much techery an’ flossyfurry an’ military stuff wot you can teach me.”

“Well, if you are interested in science and philosophy, I will do what I can to teach you,” said Quester, amazed again at how unusual Burdock was.

“I wants to learn to paint, too,” said Burdock. “I wants to make pretty pictures of the God-Hero too.”

“I am sure that we can get you some art things,” said Quester.

Even  if his efforts were a childish scrawl, thought the Justiciar, it was still a way the big ogroid could worship the God-Hero in his own way. And who was to say but that the Blessed Abe did not appreciate such honest dedication more than a well-executed piece of religious art by an artist who sold icons as a job of work, without putting devotion into each.