trust.’
‘Blackmail?’ the investigator added.
‘It is merely a security, you understand. They will be the owners of amazing anatomies. Essentially we will be creating a new form of individual to help protect the city, a hero to the people — no, more than that. A superhero if you will, more than someone who can front an army. We need these new-style crime-fighters in order to tackle these anarchists and all the terror plaguing my city.’
Fulcrom remained wide-eyed. The cultists simply slumped back in their chairs with hubris.
Urtica continued. ‘And you, Investigator Fulcrom, are to be their liaison with the law. In fact, we will want you to work closely with them so that they have access to all levels of information in the Inquisition, and — according to your superior officers — you have a very deft touch with people. These individuals will require managing, in order to produce steady performances. You are to brief them on troubling cases, and all the necessary leads.’
‘Superhero,’ Fulcrom echoed, too scared to question the decision.
The cultists then explained the projects in a manner riddled with meaningless jargon. They spoke of complex surgeries and talked of specimens. Each of them took it in turns to lecture on various aspects of the process — meta-anatomy, metallic enhancement, organ replacement, rewiring.
Urtica knew all he needed to, and even Fulcrom could see that he also did not comprehend what was being discussed here.
‘So, investigator. Can we guarantee your assistance in the matter?’
‘You can indeed. Can I ask who it is that you’ve selected to form this new trio?’
‘Of course,’ Urtica declared. ‘We’ve already got one of them incarcerated and we want you to be there tonight to see the next being
… initiated. This one shouldn’t be too difficult to persuade. In fact, you know him already.’
SEVEN
The best parties are the ones you don’t plan, Fulcrom thought to himself as he meandered about the penthouse apartment situated on the fifth level of the city. That was probably why he could never organize a decent one himself: he was a ruthless planner, so any gatherings he conducted — rare though they were — were too precise, too stale and awkward for anyone to really enjoy themselves.
But this, Fulcrom thought, was a thoroughly ostentatious affair. Say what you want about the man, but Aide Tane knew something about putting people in a room and creating a good atmosphere. Daughters of landowners were dancing with investigators and sons of councillors and those with connections throughout the city.
Tane, in his short time spent with the Inquisition, was already a legend for hosting these events — his parties were whispered about long before and long after each night had ended. In his high-ceilinged, modern apartment, with those new-style paintings, white-tiled floors, ornate cressets, and the coloured sculptures made by the hands of Villjamur’s famous glassmakers, men and girls — rumel and human — would convene to forget about the rising levels of crime and the ice age and the far-off war in Villiren.
They tipped wine down their throats. They brushed their lips casually across those of a stranger. Fulcrom was only too aware that they did this because they wanted to forget. On some nights, in the wealthy quarters, you might have several parties going on simultaneously, and each would contain a board with the evening’s scheduled dances, so couples and groups could plan their entertainment well in advance.
Little of this appealed to Fulcrom; he could not rid himself of the thought of the refugees outside who were probably perishing in the plummeting temperatures.
In one corner, two young men around the same age as Tane, in their late twenties, were busy showing off the hilts on their new swords, and testing the steel. Behind them a girl was on her toes whilst she said something discreetly into another man’s ears. The musicians — lutists, drummers and singers fresh from the underground scene — carved amazing melodies and rhythms into the night. All the latest fashions were on parade — high collars, thick, low-cut dresses, and above-the-knee boots. Someone opened a window to rid the room of the humidity of so many bodies — a miraculous gesture considering the freezing conditions outside — and a cool wind brought in the scent of the pine forests.
One of the rumel investigators sauntered up to Fulcrom and, with toxic breath, muttered, ‘Say, that Tane, he makesh… makesh a terrible inveshtigator’s aide, but throwsh one helluva night, ah’ll give him that.’
Idiot, Fulcrom thought. But then again, perhaps he was right. Would Tane ever make a good aide? The man had been attempting to pass major exams for four years now. If it wasn’t for all his questionably large trust funds, which he so helpfully donated to supplying the Inquisition… Don’t be so hard on the lad, Fulcrom told himself. Not tonight.
Girls kept sauntering up to Fulcrom in dresses which weren’t fit for an ice age. Pretty young things with wide-eyed looks that promised the world, and when they spoke to him they licked their lips. ‘Why, I just love handsome rumels like yourself.’ ‘You’re so fine looking, and people speak so well of your deeds.’ ‘How come you don’t settle down with someone?’
Maybe Fulcrom was too polite, too diffident to really enjoy being a part of this lifestyle. He cringed at their suggestive words and kindly declined their offers. All the time, Ghale, the Inquisition receptionist, was dancing with some other rumel, constantly glancing towards Fulcrom to see if he was looking her way.
Fulcrom sighed. Would he ever be ready to love again? Maybe some things I won’t ever get over, he thought. How many years has she been gone now? It’s a good thing you’re a workaholic.
A conversation behind him caught his attention: ‘I don’t know why he bothers. Everyone knows he’s bloody incompetent.’
They were senior administrative staff from the Inquisition, black-skins who he’d met only in passing, the kind who hid behind their books rather than step outside to do a day’s graft on the streets.
‘Indubitably,’ one continued, ‘but he’s minted, so they say. Arch Investigator knew his family, allegedly.’
‘How did they get so rich anyhow?’ said the other, garbed in a red tunic. ‘And why’s he even bothering to work if he possesses such…?’
Fulcrom peered across to Tane, who was suddenly standing before them: tall, blond, blue-eyed, and dressed immaculately in a purple tunic with gold detailing and buttons. Good-looking, the kind of man who bled charm, and even though he had witnessed this insulting conversation, Tane maintained a smile — his final barrier against what was being said.
He sighed and leant down to address the two who were bad-mouthing him. The slender human seemed to let the rage come then go with his breath. ‘Because, my dear fellows, some of us actually want to do some good in the world. Have you perhaps considered that, chaps?’
‘Tane, look… Sorry, we just didn’t realize you were there.’
‘Which, of course, makes it quite all right?’ They stood and backed off, smiling tentatively. Tane’s height bestowed on him the advantage of looking down upon their exit, as they squirmed through the mass of drunken bodies.
The slender human sighed, closed his eyes as the sound of the music washed over him, and Fulcrom had to feel sorry for him. He stepped over to place a hand on Tane’s shoulder — tonight, poor Tane, you will find you have purpose in life.
‘I wouldn’t worry about them, Tane,’ Fulcrom said. ‘Your time will come — sooner than you think.’
*
However, Fulcrom didn’t expect Urtica’s agents, some of his new secret guard, to claim Tane so late in the evening. The idea was to strike while the party was in full flow, to frighten Tane in front of so many people — to batter his ego into submission. Fulcrom had his doubts about this method, would have preferred something more cooperative, but the Emperor had initially wanted to use even more force. This was to be a more diplomatic solution.
The partygoers looked ready to push on through till dawn. It was late, way past thirteen, when the door burst open and four figures in tight grey clothing, wide-brimmed hats and with scarves around their mouths, marched arrogantly into the room.
