Quester amongst the flowers 11 cliffie bonus.

 

Chapter 11

 

“Well, Mr. Cayban, as it’s a question of defrauding little folks with a payroll heist, I’m happy to work for you,” said Arry Caine.  “O’ course, I couldn’t of done so if it had been just banks; a matter o’ principle, you understand.”

“You’d rather do ten years more hard labour than betray your principles?” said Quester.

“A man has to have his code,” said Caine.

“Now then! I might have a permanent job for you when this is done, as an assistant,” said Quester.

“I’d have to think about that, me lud,” said Caine. “Mind, I like that you has your bodyguard dressed well, which most folks don’t bother with, with ogroids.”

“Burdock’s a friend as well as one of my staff,” said Quester, stiffly.

Caine looked at him anew.

“Well, that might make a difference,” he said.

Purity came over.

“Message for you in answer to the one you sent to that fellow who keeps changing his name,” she said, having been monitoring the datatab Quester had used.

“Is he going to swallow it?” asked Quester.

“His suggestion to you might involve that on your part, my lord, were your spine more supple,” said Purity, dryly. “He seems to think you may have mutant powers.”

She passed Quester the datatab, and he read the short, scatological message, one eyebrow rising as he did so.

“Oh, well, it was worth a try,” said Quester. “A raid, then.”

He stiffened, suddenly,  as Kiliana’s message came in.

“I’m sorry, Peet, Kiliana has called me in over a matter of heresy,” said Quester.

“There are other Justiciars, I suppose,” said Cayban, “Who could be sent to Miz Kiliana.”

“Peet, would you prefer your daughter to be questioned by any random justiciar, or by one you know abhors torture?” asked Quester, gently.

Cayban flushed.

“I suppose they are still little girls, even if they are patricians,” he said.

“They are,” said Quester.  “Put your men in ear-defenders for the raid, and send a burst of subsonic noise at the place; that will knock everyone down. Not for too long, though, or you might inadvertently kill someone. If you can then send in a team quick and quiet to unscramble what’s going where with Mr. Caine, and get out without anyone being aware of anything but blacking out and nausea, so much the better.” He grimaced. “I’ll probably need some of your men to arrest and bring in a prominant family.”

“Oh, who?” asked Cayban.

“Stayvuhsant,” said Quester. “Burdock! Purity! In official cloaks, please, and bring me my overrobe. We have work to do, and an ‘in’ to that blasted school.”

“Miz Kiliana already met that Miz Stray-Vagrant,” said Burdock. “I reckon she’s had the chance to hang one on her now.”

“Burdock, you are without price,” said Quester, closing his eyes to savour the thought of what one of the leading families of the Empire was going to think about being called ‘Stray-vagrant.’

“Abe’s teeth!” said Caine. “I likes the way you does things, me lud, straight up, I do.”

“Well, you will get to know us better over time,” said Quester. “But it was for the girls I was originally called in.”

He called for the rotodyne, and prepared to go to the Nantsia Daviona Regina Academy.

 

 

As Quester strode into the place where he could feel Kiliana, some kind of communal eating area, he noted that his arrival caused any and all chatter to cease.

The girls all rose for him, not a courtesy he was used to.

“Miz Rubia,” said Quester, sketching a bow which was little more than an inclination of the head. “I believe that this whole room full of girls and your staff are witnesses to heresy?”  He added, in his soft, carrying voice, “Please be seated, ladies.”

The girls sat down, save Kiliana, who dropped him a curtsey.

“My lord, I called you in, when I was assaulted during, and by reason of, my grace to the Blessed Abe in thanks for food,” she said.

“For reason of? Explain,” said Quester, dangerously.

“My assailant hit me on the back as I bowed my head, knocking me into the food on my plate and felt it amusing to make a play on my piety being covered in pie,” said Kiliana. “She had previously kicked me over genuflecting to the picture of the god-hero in History and Faith class, for which she was reprimanded by Mr. Hawlus. I do not consider that Mr. Hawlus receives a sufficiency of faculty backup to properly instruct us in faith when he must put up with being openly mocked.”

“I see,” said Quester. “I suggest that we retire to the principal’s study with the principal, Mr. Hawlus, yourself, any girl you feel is a close witness, and then, when I have the basics of this, I will see the girl involved.”

“Jessica?” asked Kiliana.

“Yes, willingly,” said Jessica.

“Sneak!” said one of Ambria’s friends, a blonde girl.

“It’s not sneaking when it becomes a criminal matter, Phyllida,” said Jessica. “And the amount of bullying you lot do, it ought to have been a criminal matter before, if only the Rubia didn’t wet herself trying to lick the arses of your families.”

“Miz Vanrensala! You will serve a detention for such filthy language and bringing the reputation of nice girls into disrepute!” said Miz Rubia.

“I won’t, because it’s true,” said Jessica. “And Phyllida was one of those who locked me in a cupboard to prevent me stopping them from beating on Kerria this morning, and just because she bailed and came for you because Kerria was winning doesn’t mean she’s nice. She was scared, as bullies always are scared when people stand up to them.”

“You’ll pay,” muttered another girl.

“Purity, take that girl and the one called Phyllida, and confine them somewhere,” said Quester. “This school appears to be a veritable training ground of heresy in those who have wrong ideas taking out their vicious nature on others.”

“My lord,” said Purity.

She took each girl by a wrist, and frog-marched them out of the room.

The rest of the girls were now thoroughly cowed and frightened, and several of them began sobbing.

“Really, Justiciar, do you have to frighten the girls so, just because some of them are a little misguided and a teensy bit spoilt?” asked Miz Rubia.

“Yes, actually, I do,” said Quester. “Far better that they be terrified, briefly, by the enormity of heresy, than that they should be encouraged to think it as nothing, and fall into its toils, and end up as traitors executed by the full rigor of the law.” He fixed her with his piercing gaze. “You are under arrest for sedition and spreading heresy.”

Miz Rubia’s mouth fell open.

“How dare you!” she cried. “These are nice girls, of good family! They need gentling, not the sort of bullying tactics you may use on lesser types!”

“Rubia, you have not seen bullying tactics,” said Quester, coldly. “But you have shown yourself ready to cover up the actions of those of your girls who are little delinquents. Their family is of no moment to me whatsoever; the Judiciary acts without fear or favour. And I hope you will consider coming clean. As an adult, I will have no compunction about putting you to the question.”

Miz Rubia fainted.

Quester sighed.

“I do so hate these little interruptions,” he said, testily. “Burdock, bring the prisoner to her office, which I shall utilise whilst we are here.”

“Yes, m’lud,” said Burdock, picking up the Principal and throwing her over his shoulder.

Kiliana suppressed a snigger.

 

 

Quester inhabited the Principal’s chair and extended his personality to overwhelm the entire office. Kiliana wondered if this was a conscious use of his Psion powers, or whether he did it without thinking. She, alone, knew how vulnerable he could be, but he wore the confident persona the way he wore his Judiciary cloak, and the face of authority which went with it. It was as if he drew strength from his position. And then she realised that yes, he did; he drew on his position as personal representative of the Blessed Abe, and the god-hero’s calm and love suffused him, and gave him the ability to undertake even distasteful tasks for the love of mankind.

“Mr. Hawlus, perhaps you can fill me in on the problem here,” said Quester.

“I...” Hawlus flung a look at his Principal, now regaining her senses in a chair, and decided to throw her to the wolves. “The Principal leads morning prayers, and leaves any other praying to the consciences of the girls – and the staff, for that matter. There is a tendency for upper class girls of a certain circle to sneer at prayers, and, because they exert peer pressure on their age group, any prayers tend to be surreptitious at best, skimped or discarded at worst. The Principal will not permit me to intervene, stating that young girls coming to terms with puberty need to find themselves, and that to enforce faith will only make the girls resent it.  Now, there are regimes which can do this, and for that reason, I mistrust such penitential institutes as harsh and failing to instil the important part of our faith, the love the god-hero holds for us all. If that offends you, Justiciar, then you don’t worship the Blessed Abe I do, and I resign myself to whatever you decide.”

He lifted his chin defiantly, and Quester smiled a gentle smile.

“You might not like what I’m going to sentence you to,” said Quester. Kiliana, who had guessed, suppressed a snigger.

“I will bear whatever you decide; my love for the god-hero will give me strength,” said Hawlus, looking haggard.

“I sentence you to take over as Principal of this Lincon-forsaken training ground of heretics,” said Quester.

Hawlus’s mouth fell open.

“M... my lord?” he said.

“Rubia is fired. You’re in charge,” said Quester.

“Yes, my lord,” said Hawlus, with determination.

Miz Rubia came to fully with a shriek.

“You can’t do that! I’m a majority shareholder!” she cried.

“You were a majority shareholder,” said Quester. “You are fined the precise sum of all your shares in this venture, which are to be transferred to Mr. Hawlus.” He added, “Pray that I don’t find any more transgressions which will lead to stiffer penalties. Your laxity has caused a number of young girls to be subject to the inquisition of the Judiciary. You have failed in your task of in loco parentis and are guilty of child abuse in a failure to teach the love of the god-hero. You are also perilously close to heresy yourself in saying that teaching faith in all that is done is unnecessary. Pray pack and be ready to move out of your suite; you shall, during the meanwhile, isolate yourself in the school hospital in case I need you again.”

“But... what should I do?” whimpered Miz Rubia.

“Pray to the god-hero for guidance,” said Quester. “And hope and pray that he does not treat you with the same contempt with which you have treated him.”

Miz Rubia gazed on him with horror, her mouth working foolishly in unspoken sentences which she thought better of uttering as they rose to her tongue. She got up, and tottered out.

“Miz Antilla, your testimony for the record,” said Quester.

Kiliana rose, hands behind her back, and recited clearly, and concisely, all that had happened with regard to Ambria.

“I don’t think attacking me in the toilet is related to heresy,” she said, with a frown, having reached that. “More for having got her into trouble with Mr. Hawlus. For the record, Mr. Hawlus taught well and within the doctrine I have previous learned. I find the lack of faith here generally to be disturbing, and more so than the heathen way I was raised in my extreme youth. Jessica joins me in prayers.”

“Miz...?” asked Quester.

“Jessica Leema Vanrensula,” said Jessica. “I... I have not been raised to much faith; my nanny taught me to pray when I was small, but when she died, my parents looked at me oddly if I said grace. I learned, on the few occasions I ate with them, to hide the eagle symbol below the table, and mutter through my thanks quickly and quietly. I sort of raised myself after that, using classic novels to tell me how someone should behave. I... I’ve been here a term, and I’ve learned not to say my prayers night and morning, because... well, because Lutsilla is a hanger-on of Ambria’s, and she sneers or pokes.”

“And Lutsilla is?”

“Lutsilla Matea Jaya,” said Jessica. “I don’t know how Estella feels, she keeps herself to herself, but she never backed me.”

“One cannot stand over young people and make them pray, but to foster an environment where those who do pray are openly ridiculed is preposterous,” said Quester.  “The Blessed Abe understands that all people, especially those in adolescence, go through a period of questioning their faith, and even rebellion against it, but there is never any excuse to jeer at the piety of others. It’s that which is more a heresy, to my mind, than the failure to observe the forms of worship, because to do so with doubt in the heart is a hypocrisy which makes a mockery of what become mere trappings. It is the duty of the educator to help those who doubt their faith to find a way towards regaining their belief and knowledge that the Blessed Abe loves them too.”

“How clearly you put it, my lord!” said Hawlus.  “I would have liked to have guided the unhappy soul who is locked up in the guardroom cell, poor Ambria.”

“If you can feel compassion for her, I am doubly glad you are now principal,” said Quester.

Hawlus gave a wry smile.

“At times, I want to shake her until her hair bleeds; but she talks of what her parents give her, not what they do together as a family.”

“That is very revealing,” said Quester.