The silence paid attention to her as she rose up the steps into the center of the massive room. The lamps in the ceiling poured heat onto the top of her head and shoulders as she walked to the middle of the raised floor, covered in marble, ebony tiles creating a design of hands clenched in détente. She filled her lungs with air, holding it inside until she reached the podium. She spread her papers out, raising her eyes to over four hundred men and women sitting in rising rings around her, waiting for her to begin.
One day before
Yona Wairin stumbled off the train, pushed by the crowd of people behind her. She was startled by the piercing whistle. Her coat was nearly torn off by the train surging out of the station behind her, and she had to wait for five minutes just to pull herself up the staircase, into the sun. She was blinded by it. With her hand in the way, she found the Assembly building, straight ahead. When she tried to cross the street, she was nearly struck by a taxi car.
The building the Assembly gathered in, for a month out of the year, was the tallest, brightest, most artistic building around. You saw it whether you wanted to or not. Yona's attention was arrested by it, and as her eyes followed the golden bars whipping around the corners, and the silver bubbles topping each section, and the red, blue, and black stone walls, a young man came up and stood by her, inspecting it with her.
"Quite a sight, isn't it?" he said, and she jumped. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Have you ever seen the Assembly building before?"
"No, I-"
"Did you know that the designer Spirem Holdator went through thirty different designs before he got one that he liked enough to try and build? And then that one was refused by the assembly because there wasn't enough space inside? It took another year for Holdator to create a design that was good enough for his artistic sensibilities, and suited all of the Assembly's needs."
"Actually I-"
"There are two hundred assembly members, each of them with a dozen or so assistants and secretaries, as well as security, janitorial services, board rooms, facilities...not to mention the grand audience room, of course. What do you expect from a group that's in charge of peace and war in the land?"
Yona looked up at the young man. He was standing next to her, staring across the street as she was, one hand resting on his chin and the other cupping an elbow. In a few hours, she would discover her wallet was missing, stolen by this young man's partner in one of the city's many pickpocketing schemes. She frowned.
"Do you know the easiest way to get to it?" she asked. Her ample bosom was squashed by the case she held in her arms, containing papers, information, and her security clearance. "I'm an under-assistant for assemblyman Ceylmas."
His head tilted toward her. "Are you? What a fine coincidence! Here I am, telling you everything you already know, and you just want to get on with you job. This way, this way! I've lived in this city all my life; what you need to do is stand here and wait for the signal. Once the signal changes, the traffic will stop, and you can proceed to the other side." His directions whizzed by, and she blinked as he talked. He used his arm to indicate a few turns, and then left her at the corner, waiting for the signal to change.
A few minutes later, a security office for the city asked her why she was standing there. He told her the signal didn't change; she should go to the other end of the train station's sidewalk and wait for the entirely visually distinct signal there, and then she has a straight shot for the Assembly building.
Her hurried speed left her winded and coughing; her hair was escaping its braid. The short heels under her feet clacked with each step, and she cursed the cold--her coat lay forgotten at home.
Stopped by the security guard outside the main entrance of the assembly building, she had to rifle through her case to pull the sheet out. She had to sit in a small office while they made her a badge, and then she was free to sprint down the hallways, one after another, until she stopped one of the guards in the hall and asked her where the Assemblyman for the country of Balgarv was.
After she explained where Balgarv was, and how small it was, the guard explained the alphabetical system the rooms used--they were in the hallway housing the countries Kyf to Lwerilliat. After thanking the guard, Yona ran the incorrect direction, and had her progress stopped by a blank wall. She used the wall's accompanying bench to sit and regain her breath, and try not to cry.
An hour later she found the double doors emblazoned with the name of her country, the Assemblyman, and all of his assistants. Her name was at the bottom of the five-person list, not counting the secretaries. She grabbed the handle of the door on the left and tried to turn it, pushing forward, only to crash into the still-shut door and drop her case's papers all over the ground. She flopped onto her bottom and rolled a small distance away, legs stuck out like a collapsed chair. She helped herself to her hands and knees, grabbed the papers, stuffed them inside her case, rose to her feet, took a breath, adjusted her hair, grabbed the handle of the right-side door, and crashed to the ground once more.
Both of the doors were locked. She shook both of the handles, pounded with the side of her fist, looked around for a sign or notification--perhaps they were all out to lunch, or had stepped into one of the many available meeting rooms to go over details of the next day. She pressed her forehead against the cold wooden door, right next to her engraved name. She heard footsteps.
"Is there a reason you have been trying to get inside?" a woman taller, thinner, and older than Yona asked. "May I see you ID?"
"I'm...I'm Yona Wairin," she said, pointing at her name on the door. She dug her badge out of a pocket. "Do you know why the door's locked? Where is everybody? I really need to get inside, the Assemblyman needs as much help as he can get--the only reason I wasn't on the train with them yesterday is I had to go to my parent's home and help my dad. He fell, you see, and I needed to help my mother take care of him. Assemblyman Ceylmas said it was alright if I come a day later because I'm just a junior under-assistant, but he has a very important speech to give tomorrow and we all have to help him prepare, and-"
Her words were stopped by the woman's upraised hand. The woman's expression had gone blank. She took a few seconds before she spoke: "Yona, you said your name was?" Yona nodded. The woman took a deep breath. "I have some bad news, young lady."
Chell placed a porcelain cup, full of strong tea, in front of her. They sat in the front room of the Berwy Assemblyman's offices. The assemblyman and an assistant were working quietly, reading dispatches and talking about upcoming appointments in the next room. Chell, the Berwy Assemblyman's secretary, was on the other side of her desk, watching Yona take a sip.
"Bitter?" Yona nodded. "I've heard your tea is much sweeter than ours. How about some honey?"
"Yes please."
Chell handed the bottle across the desk. She watched Yona pour a more-than-healthy amount into the small cup, and took the bottle back. Yona drank another sip, and nodded to herself.
They looked at each other across the desk, Yona with a few fingers around the cup's handle as it rested on the saucer, and Chell with her hands clasped together on the table. Yona opened her mouth, let it hang for a moment, then closed it again. Chell turned to a short pile of papers, and flipped through until she found a certain one. She scanned it, and then handed it to Yona without looking at her.
It was an official Assembly dispatch, sent to all the represented countries in the building. Yona read it, then read it again. She looked at the single picture for so long it lost meaning. Her tea grew cold, and the honey within became solid. She became too ill to drink it anyway. Chell watched her face: from confusion to sadness, back to confusion, more sadness before jumping to thoughtfulness and, finally, terror.
"They...they!" Yona covered her mouth with her free hand. Chell watched tears appear. "They can't do that! It isn't fair! The Assembly has to do something!"
"I wish I could help, dear. But there are rules. I'm not allowed to confer with you on matters like these unless a third party is present. Besides, I'm just a secretary."
Yona was staring at her hands as they lay in her lap. "What do I do?"
"As I said, I can't really give you any advice. Though, if this was happening to me, I would first contact security and tell them the new Balgarv Assemblywoman needs keys for her office."
It was very cold inside. The security guard showed her how to turn the heater on, what each room was, where everything was. He asked her why she didn't know anything, and it took every ounce of energy for her to say it was her first time in the Assembly building. He closed the door behind him when he left, and she was buffeted by the gust of air.
She cranked the heater all the way up and opened all the doors, which had the effect of pointing out the startling, tragic emptiness of the place. There were no windows; she had to find the switches to each lamp, banishing the dark shadows--and turning the empty rooms white and bright.
She, as Assemblywoman, sat behind her massive desk, full of papers and writing utensils, empty cups of tea, garbage, personal effects of the previous Assemblyman. She was swallowed by the leather chair; her feet didn't reach the floor when she sat in it. She could hear a speech vibrating up from the grand audience room many floors below, and after a few minutes she found the day's schedule, delivered into each Assemblyman's mail slot. The current speech was about snow removal from a shared railway.
She flipped forward a day. At two o'clock, in the grand audience room: "Balgarv Assemblyman Ceylmas on Yelgiv Aggression into Balgarv." It was struck through, and the word "canceled" was printed next to it. Everybody had known about it but her.
She placed her case on the big desk in front of her, pulling herself closer using the chair's wheels. She opened her case and dumped it empty, finding her copy of the speech Assemblyman Ceylmas was supposed to give. The duty now fell to her.
She sat in her big chair, behind her big desk, and cried big tears.
Fifteen minutes later, she was fixing herself some tea. She was supposed to help the Assemblyman make the speech perfect, not give it herself. She was supposed to be the Junior Under-Assistant to the Assemblyman, not the Assemblywoman! She was supposed to have a small desk in the corner of the assistant's room, not the biggest desk in the entire office! She was supposed to stand against the wall as she watched kind, generous, optimistic Assemblyman Ceylmas deliver a speech about a violent neighboring country, not stand in the center of the grand audience room and give it herself! The rest of the Assembly didn't even know she was still going to give it!
Did she have to? It was canceled. It said so right on the schedule. She could slip out a back door, get back on her train, and live with her parents--take care of her father for the rest of her life. Nobody would even know she hadn't been on the train with the Assemblyman. They would think she was dead.
She stood in front of the stove, watching her pot of water. She spun on her heel and went to the mail slot, stuffed full of memos, letters from other offices, announcements, and official news. They poured at her feet and she bent down to sift through them. The mail service is a busy one in the Assembly building, delivering enough to rise up to her ankles, and she felt her fingers shocked by tiny cuts from the diverse paper stock and card weights. She had to get all the way to the bottom to find what she was looking for.
The announcement was mostly text, but there was one picture. The train's engine, tipped onto its side, passenger cars piled up behind it in a huge, metal knot containing over a hundred departed souls. Men and women, looking serious and solemn, stood with arms crossed, or clasped behind their backs. Smoke rose out of sight. The picture was grainy; the photographer had taken it at a distance.
One of the paragraphs alongside the picture had the sentence she was looking for: "The train carried Balgarv Assemblyman Ceylmas and his entire staff to the Assembly building."
But Chell knew she was there, didn't she. Yes, and so did the security guards who had helped her get into the office. And the one who had made up her badge. Even the nice man outside the train station who had tried to tell her the history of the building she now sat inside, resting on her backside next to a pile of papers delivered to an empty office. They knew she was here; she couldn't just run away. Well, she could, but they would know.
She looked at the picture again. The Assemblyman and all of her co-workers had been on the train. They thought she had been, too. There was a body--the grainy photo made it fuzzy--and she peered close. Could she recognize it? No, it wasn't anyone she knew, just-
Another countryman. One of the sixteen thousand Balgarvians she now represented. One of the hundred who had died when the train out of their country had struck something. Struck what, exactly? She scanned the page. Before, sitting across from Chell, she had been too flustered, too confused, too scared to read it very well. Now she dug into each paragraph: "It was first thought the train had struck something on the track, it was quickly revealed a small gap in the rails threw the wheels off, resulting in the catastrophic accident."
A small gap in the rails. A small gap in the rails responsible for all of her country's exports and imports. A small gap in one of the rails her father, and a huge number of other Balgarvians were responsible for checking and maintaining. A gap. A gap.
Resulting in a catastrophic accident.
She put the notice down and rolled to her knees, using the wall to pull herself up. A gap in the rails of her country, resulting in a catastrophic accident of a train carrying the Assemblyman.
The Assemblyman who was going to give a speech about foreign aggression two days later. About the aggression from a neighboring country.
It couldn't be.
But it could. Yelgiv could have sabotaged the track, on which a train, carrying the Assemblyman who was about to give a speech about Yelgiv's aggression into Balgarv, was using.
Her teapot whistled, and she went over to it. The office was out of tea bags. Well, she could contact Building Services and schedule a delivery. At least she knew something.
"I'm sorry, I'm sure..." Yona patted her every pocket. "I know I had it with my when I got off the train. Maybe it's in the office. I'm sorry," she said to the wordless delivery man, who had a bag of tea and a few other things. "Just one moment."
She hustled into the Assemblyman's office--her office had not yet staked a claim in her head--and searched through her things. No, her wallet was missing. Perhaps she had slipped it into a drawer? She pulled a few open. The third one down, on the right, contained a leather pouch full of money, and a few sheets of paper. She dashed it out, and the sheets of paper flew out after it. She pressed her guilt back down into her stomach as she returned to the front of the office and paid the delivery man, who shut the door as he left.
She placed a fresh bag of tea into her hot mug of water, and took it back to the Assemblyman's office. Once more she sat in the huge chair, behind the huge desk. The papers she had scattered had drifted across the floor, and she bent down to scoop them up.
At the top of one of them was "The Rules."
She frowned, and read on. A little voice reminded her she wasn't supposed to read other's mail, but it went largely ignored.
"1: Take it seriously."
Seriously? Take what seriously? she thought as she sat in the Assemblyman's chair, behind the Assemblyman's desk, in the Assemblyman's office.
"2: Do your homework."
After a few seconds of staring at the line, Yona lowered the piece of paper and spied her copy of the speech. Her copy of her speech.
"3: Look and act the part."
She glanced down at her clothes. They weren't sloppy, but they weren't the outfit of an Assemblywoman; such was clear and apparent.
"4: Do not take yourself seriously. Humility, and humor."
Assemblyman Ceylmas had always laughed. Always joked. He could take a tease and loved to shoot them right back. He was kind, generous, he would stoop to help another.
"5: Be steady and reassuring, as well as emphatic and emotional."
She looked around the empty room. The loudest thing she could hear was the clock ticking on the wall next to her. There were more rules, about some things she didn't really understand--she could be truthful with herself here: she was lost. The only reason she didn't cry again was because she felt too dry. She took a drink of tea, and realized she hadn't put any sugar in it. At least I have the emotional part done, she thought. She stood and once more went around the big desk to the main room, where she dug the bag of sugar out of the cupboard. While stirring, she looked over The Rules once more. There was one at the bottom: "Be skeptical, but sincere."
She would have to be sincere with herself, first, and then she could be skeptical. And the sincerity was her skepticism. She thought Yelgiv had sabotaged the train track and caused the catastrophic accident. To keep the Assemblyman from giving a speech designed to stop Yelgiv's aggressive actions into her country.
Rule number one was "Take it seriously." She took her tea into her office and sat down to read her speech.
Yona smoothed her hair back and knocked on the immense door. A few seconds later, a bald, wrinkled man appeared in the crack as the door opened. He squinted, expecting the knocker to be taller, but eventually his eyes drifted downward to settle on her. "Yes, young lady," he said, breath wheezing out, "can I help you?"
"I'm here for my meeting with the Assembly head," Yona said.
"Young lady, I do not know who you are, and there is no meeting on the schedule at this time." He began to close the door.
"Excuse me-" Yona was able to put enough strength into her voice to stop the motion. "I called half and hour ago and requested a meeting. My name is Yona Wairin and I am the Assemblywoman for Balgarv. I...will be giving a speech tomorrow, and I must meet with the Assembly head."
"Young lady, I do not appreciate such cruel jokes. I know as well as anyone that the Balgarv Assemblyman, as well as his entire staff, died not a day ago, and you are certainly not old enough to-" He peered at the badge she held up to his nose.
"I am acting Assemblywoman at this time," Yona said. "I was not on the train that crashed. As acting Assemblywoman, I request a meeting with the Assembly head, and I'm afraid I must insist."
A few minutes later Yona stared straight ahead at a blank wall, over a second couch. She sat on the first, hands clasped in her lap to keep them from shaking. Behind her, a door swung open, and she heard someone bustle in as she rose.
She came face-to-chest with a man wearing an impeccable suit, and the short mantle of the Assembly head, the elected chairman of this year's Assembly period, master of ceremonies, and the Assemblyman of one of the world's larger countries, Missai: a military might, trade leader, and scientific ground-breaker. Just one of its many provinces contained two, three, or four times the entire population of her country.
"You aren't Ceylmas," the man said. "I was told Ceylmas was waiting for me!"
"I'm afraid not, sir." Do not take yourself seriously. "As you can see, I am not him." Yona smiled and extended her hand. "My name is Yona Wairin. I was an under-assistant until yesterday." The head nearly had to bend down to shake her hand. "But until a new election takes place, I am acting Assemblywoman."
"How did you survive?" the head said, sitting on the couch across from her. He hadn't introduced himself, but Yona knew his name. Do your homework: Frederik Polstadt. "I'd heard there were no survivors!"
"There were no survivors, sir. I took a different train that arrived today."
"Well, I'm glad you survived!" Frederik said. He leaned forward. "You still mean to make a speech?"
"Yes sir. If I do nothing during my tenure except a single speech, tomorrow, I will consider it a successful tenure."
"You will have a hard time of it, you know. Nobody even knows who you are! Why will they be forced to listen to you? I wouldn't be surprised if not many people even attend the speech."
Try as she might, Yona couldn't keep from frowning. "Unfortunate, I know," Frederik continued, "but there isn't much reason for them to attend. A small country, discussing unfounded claims of military aggression, delivered by a...junior under-assistant to the previous Assemblyman."
Hot blood surged through Yona's face. "Unfounded," she whispered to herself. To her surprise, the word stopped the head short, and he lost some of the color in his face. She leapt before she could think about it. "Sir, I must be sincere. They are not unfounded. In fact, if what I believe is true, there is concrete evidence of Yelgiv's aggression." She stood up, trying to make her posture straight, like Ceylmas had been. "I mean to call my country's violent neighbors onto the floor tomorrow, and demand an explanation."
"I'm afraid there is not much time on the schedule," Frederik said. He donned a pair of small spectacles, retrieving a card from a pocket of his coat. "The time slot Ceylmas had requested has been filled. In fact, there aren't any other times available for..." the head muttered to himself, pulling another card out. "Oh dear. There isn't enough time left for you. I can ask some of the other Assemblymen if they will be accommodating, or I can notify you if an opening-"
Yona waited through his explanation. No time. No time to discuss aggression into her country. No time to discuss an accident in which a hundred of her countrymen and women had perished.
"Sir, forgive my interruption." The head stopped, gazing at Yona in surprise. "Statute 947-2 of the Assembly laws allow a demand for speaking time under the provision of 'extreme danger to a country and/or criminal action between countries.' My speech involves both. So, Assembly head Frederik Polstadt, I hereby demand speaking time, and you have not the power to deny me it."
Her heart was about to leap from her chest. Her knees barely kept her upright. Frederik scowled. "Now just a minute, young lady, it's very late, and these things must-"
"I agree, Assembly head, they must. And believe me, they will." Yona looked into his eyes. "Tomorrow, at the time originally dedicated to Ceylmas. No need to contact the Yolut Assemblyman--I believe he had the slot--I will be sending a formal apology to him, explaining myself."
She spun. "Forgive me, Assembly head, there is much I have to do before tomorrow."
"Young lady, the concrete evidence...what is it?"
"I'm afraid you must wait until tomorrow, sir."
Because she did not have it yet. Inside her office, she fell to her knees, clenching her arms around her stomach, wondering if she was about to cover the floor in bile-strewn tea. Tears clouded her vision, saliva filled her mouth, a din of sirens flooded her ears.
In a few seconds it passed, without expulsion. She pressed her forehead to the frigid tiles under her and took steady breaths until she was able to rise. Wobbling to her desk, she sat in the big chair. The small clock on the wall next to her told her it was nearly nine at night. She should still have time.
She lifted the phone from its gold wire cradle and spun the dial to reach the operator. "Balgarv two, 3143 please." The phone buzzed as she was connected. "Mother?"
"Yona! This is a surprise! We figured you would be hard at work! How is the Assembly building? Is it as beautiful as Ceylmas told you? How is he? Nervous, I bet!"
"Mother, I need to speak to father."
"Oh, sorry, dear, he's just gone down. The doctor said-"
"Mother." The nausea returned. "Wake him."
She heard nothing from the other end. "Dear...has something happened?"
Yona breathed in deep, clearing her head, silencing the sirens. She heard the clock tick away a few seconds. "Assemblyman Ceylmas died yesterday. The train he was on, with the rest of his staff, crashed. Mother, wake father and give him the phone. I need to know something for my speech tomorrow."
There was a clunk--the sound of the phone striking wood. Yona waited for several minutes, and then she heard her father's sleepy voice. "Yona? Your mother is too excited to tell me what's happened, but something clearly has."
"I don't have a lot of time, father: I am the assemblywoman for Balgarv. Ceylmas perished in a train crash."
A short pause. "The crash on line nine? Yesterday? The assemblyman was on it?"
"Yes."
As if from a distance: "Issla! Fetch my rolo! Yes, the one for the office!" Back into the phone: "I heard about it just after you left, Yona."
"Did you see how the crash happened? A gap in the track."
"Reindeer piles. There's no way that's true. Someone would have had to come along and chop a piece out. Sabotage."
"Father, I know you need your rest, but I need your help. Find out everything you can about the track and the accident: where it was, when it was, details about the track, everything you can." She relayed a number he could use to reach her. "You may have to leave a message; I will be away from my desk."
"Yona, do you suspect foul play?"
"I shouldn't say, father. Can you help?"
"Certainly!" She could practically hear her father puff out his chest, then grimace and grab his back. "You can count on me."
"Thank you, father. Say goodbye to mother for me, I must go."
Now I'm ordering my father around.
The pad of paper on the big desk in front of her had a single item on it: Call father. She crossed it off and wrote a few more things, wracking her brain to make sure the list was complete. It was shorter than she expected.
Chell had her coat and bag in hand in the hallway, ready to head to the hotel her Assemblyman's staff used, when she heard the Balgarv office door open. "Hello, Assemblywoman."
"Hello Chell. Clocking out for the night?" Yona had her bag as well, though had placed anything important in hard-to-reach pockets on her person.
"Indeed. How are you? Keeping your spirits up?"
"I think I am. I bossed the Assembly head around just an hour ago."
"Then you'll fit right in," Chell said. "What is it you need?"
"A few things from the city. I won't keep you...just tell me the best place to find them." She handed her list to Chell, and the older woman scanned down it.
"I have a few places for that...somewhere for that, though I must admit I am confused why you would need it...there are several places you can go here in the building for that." She scowled and tilted her head away from the paper. "I have no idea where you would get that, and I advice you destroy that section of the list, just in case someone with official status lays eyes on it."
"Noted." Chell took the list back and nodded. "Thank you, Chell. I hope to see Assemblyman Aron tomorrow."
"He will surely be there. I won't let him skip."
She followed the instructions on Chell's hand-written note until she reached what her mother called a "frippery store." The most expensive dress Yona had ever seen dominated the front window, too slim and lengthy for her to ever fit inside. She stepped through the door.
"Greetings, young lady!" a voice said, and she found a woman standing next to her. "I would love to help you but we are mere moments from closing for the day! Perhaps you could return tomorrow? I'll have you looking spectacular!"
"My name is Yona Wairin," Yona said, pulling out her badge. "Due to unforeseen circumstances, I am acting Assemblywoman for my country, Balgarv, and I have a speech to give tomorrow." The woman frowned. "And I need a dress. You look like someone who knows her dresses." Yona smiled. "And I need someone who knows her dresses."
"You'll want something flashy, yet sensible," the woman said, a few minutes later. Yona stood in front of three floor-length mirrors, examining her snowman-shaped body from three angles. "Something they won't mutter about later, something they'll notice as soon as you enter. Something serious. Something exciting."
"Do you...have something like that?" Yona asked.
"Madam Assemblywoman, we have everything."
A moment later a dress was pushed into her hands. "Try this on. Don't worry if it isn't a perfect fit, I can adjust it." Yona stepped into a small changing cubby and disrobed, slipping the dress over her head. When she exited and stood in front of the woman, the woman tilted her head back and forth, tapping one finger against her lips. "No."
A whirlwind of styles, cuts, colors, and lengths issued forth from the endless closets of the shop, piling in Yona's arms as the woman went back and forth, talking to herself and Yona in equal amounts. Some of the outfits never reached the newly-minted assemblywoman before the woman deemed them irresponsible, irreverent, trash, last year's hopeless looks, an unconscionable pairing of color and shape, or too small. Yona ended up with two she liked.
"Both wonderful looks, miss," the woman said. "Slimming, daring, attractive."
"You can make adjustments to them?" Yona asked. Both of the dresses were hanging from hooks in front of her. Her eyes went from one to the other.
"Of course! Anything you want! All you have to do is decide which one you prefer...and, of course, tell me the bank account number to charge."
Yona nodded. With a final glance at the runner-up, she pointed at one of the designs. "That one."
"Excellent! When I'm finished, you will stun them!"
"I'll want adjustments done," Yona said as the woman took the winner off the hook, folding it gently over her arm, and flung the loser back into the closet whence it came.
"Certainly! Why don't you don it once more, and I can make notes. There's nothing at all to fear, miss, I'll be sure to have it finished by...nine o'clock tomorrow morning! I will work until sunrise if I must!"
"I will need special adjustments."
The woman looked over her pad of paper, squinting. "Whatever do you mean?"
Yona would pick the outfit up at ten the following morning, likely dragging herself to the shop after a sleepless night. If only I had just one assistant. This would be so much easier. "Go pick up my outfit for the speech, so I have time to convince the Assembly our country is in danger."
She stood at the train station, inspecting each person she saw. The young man who had come up to speak to her was likely long gone, but there would be others.
So, when she saw the same gregarious man who had distracted her with facts of the building she worked inside, scanning the crowd in search of a new mark. It took her a few seconds to wipe the surprise off her face. She double-checked to make sure none of her personal effects were within reach of prying fingers.
She started hyperventilating, mussing up her hair, mis-arranging her clothing, trying to look like the overworked under-assistant she should have been, and then she went running up to the young man, waving her hand. "Excuse me! Excuse me!"
The young man's eyes went wide, Yona saw, but only for a moment. In the next, his bright smile appeared. "Why hello! Strange to see you again! I expected you to be working hard! Whatever brings you back?"
"Oh, yes, quite hard. Quite hard indeed, actually, harder than I thought I would. Well, actually, the Assemblywoman is in need of someone like you. Someone who knows the history of the Assembly building."
The young man raised an eyebrow and tilted his head toward her. There. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you?" Yona shot her left hand down, latching her chubby fingers around the wrist reaching for the pocket of her coat. She looked at the hand, then up at the face it was attached to. It was a younger man than the other, maybe still a boy, and it was white in the dark train station. "Stay, if you would. You wouldn't want me to raise my voice, now would you?"
"Let him go," the older man said. "I'm the one you want. He's just helping me."
"I want both of you," Yona said, hanging on to the wriggling wrist. "You're going to do something for me, or I'm going to drag this young man right over to that nice armed guard and demand satisfaction."
The older of the two reached into his pocket. "You want your money back, fine, here, take it, you didn't have that much anyway, just let him go."
"I don't want my money back. I want something worth much more." Yona snatched the money from him anyway. "Say yes, or I will start shouting. And trust me, when an armed guard discovers someone has stolen from an Assemblywoman, they take these things seriously. Why don't you tell me your name?"
The older spiked the younger one with a harsh look. "Ulys."
At first, the two had refused her request--too difficult, too risky, too illegal. A little bit of pressing, however, and the two--brothers--agreed. They set up an hour, a cover story, and a few extra details; Yona was on her way to her last task in the city. Another purchase, this one less popular but, she feared, more important than a simple dress. She was able to get a little bit of information out of Ulys and his brother, Fainn, and then headed to the darker part of town.
It took some time to convince the proprietor of the establishment she chose of her sincerity, but eventually she left with her purchase in hand. Getting it inside the Assembly building was another task, however, and she stopped around the corner to consider her options. She couldn't walk through the door, they would never allow it. Disguise it as a delivery? No, they search each one. Have the brothers bring it? No, they couldn't escape without a frisk. She asked herself what Assemblyman Ceylmas would do, but he wouldn't have even considered doing such things.
Well, she didn't know if he would or wouldn't, in fact. I only met him once, during the meeting he had with her and her parents. The man had been cheerful, laughing, accepting of his own faults, but he did make a mess. Her mother hadn't even noticed until after he had left. He was such an engaging conversationalist, they overlooked small missteps. And perhaps bigger missteps as well?
She looked down at the package in her hands. Anyone who opened it would be able to tell what it was at a glance, and then it would be out of her hands. So, just don't let anyone open it. The four guards at the door may have something to say to such a request, though.
Finding a nearby bench, Yona sighed. She set the package on her legs and breathed out a cone of steam, shivering. If Ceylmas had found her sitting there, and known what she wanted to do, what would he say? Would he take the package out of her hands and throw it into a frozen river? Help her hide it while she snuck in? No, he would probably sit next to her and help her do it right, do it properly. Within the bounds of the law, unlike her opponents. Surely the laws of the Assembly had something to say about her situation.
She would find it. She would do it the right way. She would walk into the center of the grand audience room with the right and might of the entire Assembly behind her, and more.
What to do with the package. Hide it somewhere, perhaps, but someone might find it and take it away, or worse, use it. Have the guards hold it. They would look inside. It was back to the train station, spending a few recovered coins to rent a night locker. She jammed her package inside and hoped no one would grow suspicious.
Now nearly midnight, it was even colder inside her office. She turned the heater back on and started a pot of water. The building was silent, even though she knew she wasn't the only Assembly member working late. She might end up being the latest, but she wasn't alone.
She read her speech again. She noted where things might need to change, then lifted the phone next to her. She dialed the message system and found a recording. "Yona, I would bet my back on it," her father had said. "If it wasn't foul play it was a one in a million chance. Part of the track was removed! The rail service is going to do a full inquiry starting soon. I've wired the pictures you wanted me to try and get. Couldn't find all of them, but I think you'll be pleased."
The pictures wouldn't arrive for a few hours, even with express delivery. Yona replaced the receiver and turned back to her speech. She found a pad of paper and started re-writing it, leaving blank spots for later information. After an hour she leaned back, nearly swallowed by the immense chair, and stretched. Her fingers were cramping.
Taking her tea into a different room, she once again found the list of laws the Assembly followed, in which she had found the rule allowing her to demand speaking time from the Assembly head. She took the final volume, entirely an index and glossary, and scanned it for relevant terms. Flipping to the correct spots in the other volumes, she read everything she could. It wasn't necessary to have her package with her, but it would make her feel better.
Well, to allow the package inside security would require reasonable need. Her father's pictures would help her there. She changed gears, hunting down a few other rules and ideas. Some of them didn't pan out--or were impossible for her to maneuver with less than a day. One, however, looked just right. She filled her arms with rulebooks and hauled them to her big desk. It was two o'clock in the morning. It was silent, and calm.
"Yes ma'am, of course, I will send the pictures to you as soon as possible," said the mail shop worker, a tired man sitting behind a desk. "The same way I send everything. No need to fret, really." The man lifted a limp hand to pacify Yona, who hadn't said a word or even moved. "You can count on me."
"Excellent. Thank you. That's wonderful to hear." Yona gave as big a smile as she could. "I look forward to seeing them arrive."
Next she went down several floors, walking through the cold, quiet, empty hallways and clattering down the stone staircases of the sleepy building, until she got to multi-media assistance. The one worker there similarly assured her everything she requested was not only possible, but common. "Picture aids are frequent, dearie. I tell you, I've seen some gruesome stuff. War criminals get my blood up, I tell you what. Which Assemblyman did you say you worked with?"
She got back to her office before four o'clock, and found the brothers inside, sipping on cups of tea and looking around. "Your office is a lot smaller than their's."
"Balgarv is a smaller country," Yona said. They followed her to her desk. Seeing them sit on the other side of the desk, waiting for her to begin, Yona had to take a deep breath to keep from getting dizzy. "Any luck?"
Ulys glanced at Fainn, who let a small smile creep onto his face. From his sleeve, he drew a piece of paper--it was almost as if it appeared in his hand out of thin air. He pressed it onto the desk and leaned back in his chair, crossing a leg over the other.
She slid the piece of paper closer.
Ulys and his brother watched her eyes slide across the rows of text, sometimes jumping ahead, sometimes going back to re-read. They watched her hands form fists, and her brow clench. When she reached the bottom of the page she turned it over, finding the other side blank.
They waited until she pushed the piece of paper back toward them. "What now?" Ulys asked. "Take this to the authorities?"
"They'll never accept it. Yelgiv will say I just made it myself. They have to be caught with it."
"By who?"
"Leave that to me."
The brothers left an hour before. Yona was bent over her speech again, tweaking the words. It looked good. If only I had some experience with this.
She heard a clunk of something landing in the mailslot, and ran to see. There were two items: The first was a copy of the day's schedule. In place of the Yolut Assemblyman's demonstration of fishing tariffs, her name--and her title, "Balgarv Assemblywoman"--were written in red. The item stood out like a snowball to the face. At two o'clock, about nine hours away, she would stand in the center of the marble platform, the rising rings of the Assembly members and their assistants around her.
Seeing the red proclamation, after thinking the Balgarv Assemblyman and his entire staff had perished a few days prior, no one would be absent. She will give her speech to the full Assembly.
Including the Yelgiv Assemblyman. The second item was an envelope full of pictures from her father, along with explanations, construction data, diagrams, even physics explanations. It was clear and evident. But she already knew it would be, thanks to what the brothers had lifted from the Yelgiv Assemblyman's office. What the pictures did was make it evident to everyone--the entire Assembly.
She had to finish her speech--add this new information in--but a few things first. She opened the door to the hall and poked her head out, checking both directions. She knew she was being a touch dramatic, but she didn't know what to expect. Likely most of the building knew there was another Balgarv representative now, she would have to be careful if she wanted to use her time wisely. To the train station.
Her package was still there, undisturbed. She tucked it under her arm and marched back to the Assembly building, armed with her pictures and a few pieces of information.
As expected, the security office took the package from her hands and opened it. When they saw what was within, they told her they would have to confiscate it. As soon as they did, one of them picked the package up and began to remove it from the room.
"Just a moment," Yona said. She took her folder of pictures--already checked--from under her arm. She laid the pictures out on the table and began to explain what had happened. After a few minutes she looked up. "Someone made a successful attempt on the life of the previous Balgarv Assemblyman, as you can clearly see. Now I have thoughts about who is responsible, but I should not say. What I can say, is under statute 800.2 of Assembly law, an assemblyman--or woman--is allowed to have an item of self-defense carried with him or her if he or she demonstrates a probable danger to him or herself. In less than half a day, I plan to give a speech before the entire Assembly about this event, and more. If what I think is correct, my life will be in danger."
"We will have to register it."
"Fine."
"It will take a few hours."
Yona frowned. "A few hours? Why?"
"Do you have a proper license?"
"What kind do I need?" Yona hadn't thought about a license.
"The kind we're going to give you after we've registered it. It gives you the freedom to carry within the Assembly building only. If you use it in a criminal act, you are fully responsible."
"Of course. How long will it take?"
The security guard leaned back in his chair. "The captain has to check it off for something like this. But we can do all the legwork before he gets in. Shouldn't take more than a few hours."
"Thank you. It's good to know security is taken so seriously here." Yona began scooping her pictures back into a pile. "Expect me at noon, no later."
The halls were a bit busy by the time she got back to her office, but she couldn't rest yet. She took another look at her speech, deciding where to add the information her father had sent her, and then it was back to walking through the building until she reached the multi-media assistance office. The same woman as before accepted the pictures, then prepared giant-sized slides Yona could use during her speech. Yona watched the process carefully, wondering if the multi-media woman could be trusted and berating herself for thinking such a thing. But, in a few minutes, it was done.
She still had some time before she had to fetch her dress from the shop, so she sat behind her big desk and re-wrote her speech, inspecting each sentence and word. Would it work?
Would it do what she wanted? Would it do what was right, proper? It could potentially throw the Assembly into chaos. If she misstepped, or misspoke, her country would pay the price. Blood rushed to her head, and her heart pounded. But, no. She knew what was at stake, and she knew all of the information. She held all the cards, and some other things as well. Maybe things wouldn't fall into place as she hoped and imagined, but she was doing the right thing. She knew Yelgiv was at fault. She knew if she did nothing, her country's bigger neighbor would take advantage--no Assemblyman, as they had tried to pull off, would make sure the eyes of the other, larger countries kept away from their small northern territories.
She pushed the thoughts out of her head. She would drown in her own perspiration before she even entered the audience hall at her current rate. Perhaps she should turn the heater down.
Some time before ten o'clock Yona once again went to the dress store, and found it quite a bit busier. Women of all ages entered and left with alacrity, numerous employees ran to and fro with outfits draped over their arms. It was louder, brighter, and hotter than before.
Yona detected an employee not currently helping anyone, and wound her way through the racks and bodies. "Excuse me," Yona said. "I was in last night. An employee told me she would have my dress ready at this time."
"Certainly, miss. If you would come with me?" The woman led Yona to a small table in a corner, away from the noise. "Your name, please?"
"Yona Wairin." She spelt it. "I hope there's no problem. It's very important."
"Wairin, Wairin." The woman scanned down a list. "Aha, yes. Overnight job, rush...would you like to pay now?"
"Yes. Charge it to the Balgarv Assembly account."
"Of course miss. Let's go and see, shall we? It looks like...oh."
Yona frowned. "Oh?"
"It's nothing. Please, follow me." The woman departed, but Yona hung back for a second. The woman moved quickly, making a beeline for a door. Yona trailed her, squeezing between the other shoppers. The woman pulled open the door, allowing Yona to enter first, who stopped a few feet in, jolted to a halt.
The woman Yona had talked with the night before--at least, she thought it was the same woman--stood in the middle of a room full of tables, half-finished outfits, sewing materials, and bare dress forms. Same height, same size, same hair color--though the hair was now free of its bun and dangling in the woman's face. She seemed pale, and here eyes were wide and tinged with red. There were cuts on her fingers, and small bits of fabric strewn about her person, clinging to her body and outfit. The woman looked up, saw Yona standing shocked, and bolted to her feet. "Madam Assemblywoman! What perfect timing you have! I have just finished your dress!"
"You're the Assemblywoman?"
"Thank you, very much!" Yona said. She hurried forward and found the outfit she had picked out the night before on lying flat on the table. "You made all the adjustments I asked for?"
"Madam, this will fit you like a dream. It will fit you like a cloud. You may believe you are wearing nothing at all!"
"Are you all right, Tiertia?" The wide-eyed woman looked at the other employee. "Have you been up all night?"
"Yes I have! The Assemblywoman trusted me to make a very special outfit for her very important speech today, and I've spent all night making sure it is perfect! And look!" Tiertia grabbed the shoulders of the dress and held it aloft. "Perfect!"
"It certainly looks nice," Yona said. "Thank you Tiertia, it looks wonderful." Tiertia's face broke into a wide smile. Yona could see a vein pounding in the woman's forehead. "You must be exhausted."
"Yes I am, madam!" Tiertia said. "Haven't slept in nearly a day! Goodness, it's like forgetting to eat!"
Yona stomach growled, at a volume capable of hearing in distant corners of the room. She felt her face grow hot. "You and I have something in common, I guess!" She looked at the outfit in Tiertia's hands. "It doesn't need any more work?"
"Not a stitch, not a seam, not a cut! You could wear it into the sun from this very shop!"
"Well done, Tiertia," the other woman said. "I'll take that; why don't you lie down for a little while?"
"Wonderful idea!" Tiertia said as she handed the outfit off. "I think I shall!"
She fell forward onto the table the dress had been lying on--scissors bounced--and began to snore. Yona started forward, but the other woman stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "She'll be fine. Tiertia is quite a woman alone."
"So it seems." Yona looked at the other woman, bracing herself. "How much?"
Her stomach continued growling all the way back to the Assembly building. When she got to her floor, she made the turns to go down her hall, wondering what was the best thing she could eat before an important speech, and found a group of men standing outside her door. She stood for a few seconds, then whirled back around the corner, pressing herself against the marble pillar.
"The door is locked, sir."
"She isn't inside?"
"No sir."
"Do any of you know for a fact she actually exists?" Yona frowned. The demanding voice acted as if it was in charge. Likely, it was. "What if it's just a trick? Something to make us show our hand!"
"In such a case, sir, perhaps you should pretend to not know any better."
"Surely I don't know what you mean. I'm just here to see if the rumors about part of Assemblyman Ceylmas' retinue surviving is true. But alas, there is no one here. Back to the office. If there is any truth to the announcement, we should prepare." The man's voice lowered. "Get rid of anything, do you hear me?"
"Yes sir." Yona heard a trio of footsteps start to head her way. Her eyes flew open. Her head twisted and turned, trying to find somewhere she could stuff her body and avoid detection.
Why? Because she didn't have protection yet? Because she was afraid of the man walking toward her? A man who was in the employ of a violent, aggressive nation--one responsible for border skirmishes, armored cavalry pushes, naval quarrels, and terrorist sabotages? What could he do to her?
A few stomach-turning options came to mind. A stab in the back, a pistol to the forehead, a nasty fall down any of the stone staircases in the building, finding herself lying on the tracks as a train bore down on her. These and more.
But people knew. Her father knew, Chell the helpful receptionist next door knew, the building's security knew. Even Ulys and Fainn knew, they more than anybody. If something did happen to her, the finger would land pointing at the man coming down the hall toward her, and for good reason: He would be responsible. And they couldn't do anything to her here, in the hallway, could they? They would never get away. Her head spun; her empty stomach flipped. She stood her ground, running through Ceylmas' rules in her head, and waited until the three men rounded the corner toward her.
They skidded to a halt, finding a short, portly young woman with a garment bag folded over her arm and an odd smile dimpling her cheeks. She jammed her hand forward. "Assemblyman Jhor, how nice to meet you." Jhor, the tall, thin man with heavy eyebrows, had two flanking assistants, though Yona might have called them bodyguards if she was being charitable.
"And who are you?" Jhor asked, ignoring Yona's offered hand. "Get out of my way!"
Should I be so surprised? Yona let her hand drop. "My name is Yona Wairin. Assemblywoman Wairin. The woman who's office you were just trying to break in to." She pressed the garment bag against her body, trying to keep herself steady. "I figured since you so much wanted to meet me, I should introduce myself."
"You're the Assemblywoman? I suppose next they'll be letting my nephew represent a country!" Jhor laughed, as did his bodyguards, a half-second after he started.
"I suppose I am quite young." Yona flipped her hand up as if to say too true, good sir. "But that's what happens when the previous Assemblyman and most of his staff die in a tragic accident." At the last word, Yona's eyes hardened. "I would love to stay and chat, but I have much to do. There's a speech I must work on." She surged ahead, managing to startle them into letting her pass. "I hope you'll attend! It's sure to interest you."
A few seconds later she got to her office, fumbled the key into the lock, slammed the door behind her, and slid to her rump. Once more she wondered if she was about to coat the floor with half-digested tea.
Though it wouldn't be tea, would it? There wasn't much of anything inside her. She would heave and retch until tears blurred her vision, but the tiles under her would remain dry and cold. She had to get something to eat; she hadn't had anything since arriving at the Assembly building. She hadn't even slept.
"Assistant," she said aloud, hoping it would invoke a human being to appear out of thin air in front of her with a tray of sandwiches. "If I make it through this, I'm getting an assistant. And a secretary."
A knock rattled her skull, and she rolled away from the door, flopping onto the floor like a shovelful of snow. She rolled onto her knees and got up, trying to make herself half-presentable.
Her hand stopped on its way to the handle. If she opened the door and found two mealy "bodyguards" waiting on the other side, she would have to find something to defend herself with, and quickly. She breathed in, then out, and pulled the handle down.
"You look like you've seen a spirit," Ulys said. Fainn stood behind him, a box under one arm. "Working hard, I hope. The train station is dead this time of day so we decided to come early."
"Right." Yona hastily brushed her hair back into place. "What's that?" She pointed at the package Fainn had.
"When we got out badges, the security office said they had this ready for you. Fainn."
The younger brother handed it to Yona. "I would have loved this about five minutes ago."
"Why? What's in it?" Ulys asked, entering the office. He found the chair the secretary would have sat in and put his feet up on the desk. "Felt pretty heavy! You got hardware in there or something?"
"No, no, it's just something for self-defense." As Yona turned around the place the package on an empty chair, Ulys and Fainn exchanged exasperated glances. "How did you get in?"
"Front door," Ulys said, spinning in the chair. "How did you get in?"
"No, I mean, they don't just let anybody in, you have to have a reason!"
"Oh, right." He held up a badge, almost identical to hers. In the picture he had a rakish grin. "Fainn and I are your 'assistants.' Just today, of course, and then-"
"Get me something to eat!"
"...What?"
"I haven't eaten anything in more than twenty-four hours! I have to try and prevent a war in less than three hours! I need to eat something!"
"Oh. Oh!" Ulys shot to his feet and looked around, whipping his head back and forth with his arms out to his sides. "Like what?"
"Anything! Anything at all! I will eat anything if you put it in front of me and tell me it's food!"
"Right! Fainn, give her the paper!" Ulys rounded the desk. "Don't worry, Yona, we’ll have something for you right away! Come on, Fainn!"
She had a little more than two hours before her speech. The room was quiet and empty, cool, but not too cold. The ticking clock next to her desk was a calm, hypnotic noise. Her big chair, behind her big desk, swallowed her up, so full of padding it felt like her bed. Her eyes started to droop, and her head bounced forward; her spine lacked the energy to keep it upright.
A little bit of light intruded as she stretched her eyes open. The piece of paper Fainn had handed her was lying under her face, on her big desk. A few words jumped off the page at her, highlighted as if bathed in golden radiance, vibrating, built of staticky sound--she could not ignore them: "Troublesome." "Tracks." "Remove." "Assemblyman." "Simple." "Accident."
Accident.
She slapped the sleep out of her cheeks, and pulled her speech close, mouthing each word as he pen drifted over it, practicing motions and emotions, feeling the blood surge through her. She forgot her exhaustion. Ulys and Fainn returned with hot soup, fresh bread, cheese, a pitcher of tea. After getting confirmation the food was not stolen, Yona ate as she worked, not looking up from her speech.
"Madam Assemblywoman." Ulys said when Yona came out of her office. It was a half-hour before her speech. Her new dress fit her perfectly--despite her mania, Tiertia was gifted with a stitch. "You're going to leave them stunned!" Standing next to Ulys, Fainn was nodded, arms crossed over his chest.
"Thank you." Yona shouldn't have eaten so much. Her stomach roiled. "But the outfit isn't ready yet." She opened her package and took the item out.
"Do you really think you're going to need that?" Ulys asked. "Do you want us to come with you?"
"As much as I'd like someone having my back, you two have your own task. It's as important as mine."
"Right. They won't know what hit them." Ulys watched Yona part a hidden fold in her dress and slip the item into a holster she had put on first. "Good luck to us all, I suppose." Yona smoothed the fold shut, then practiced diving her hand inside it. She smoothed it shut again. "All your work comes down to this."
"Right." Yona continued smoothing the fold shut, over and over. She stood in the center of the entry room, eyes on the blank wall. "Thank you, Ulys, and you Fainn. I couldn't have done this without you."
"You did threaten to have us imprisoned."
"I did, didn't I?" She stood up straight, breathing out and letting her eyes climb up the wall until she was gazing at the peeling ceiling above her. "You'll get a real reward. I'll pay you under the guise of counseling services, I promise."
"How about something else?" Fainn said. Yona jumped--his voice was thin, timid, reedy. "You hire us. As real assistants. Brother and I, we steal to survive. We have to. You won't have to pay us much." He shuffled his feet. "I enjoyed working with you, miss."
"So did I," Ulys said, as his brother fell silent once more. "You need a staff. You nearly killed yourself, and you've only been here for a day. What do you say?"
Yona looked from one brother to the other. "I don't know. The people of Balgarv are going to appoint a real representative; I might not even be here in a month."
"Sure you will. You're going to save the whole country," Ulys said. "Oust the killers of the previous Assemblyman, and bring Yelgiv down. You'll be the most famous Assemblywoman in this whole big building."
"People working for the Assembly have to be citizens of the country they work for."
Ulys shrugged. "Big deal. We're orphans, and more or less homeless. I know Balgarv is a colder place, but a salary from here should give us enough."
Yona nodded. "I...I'll see what I can do. I can't promise, but...I'll try."
"Right. Good." Ulys straightened up. "Fainn, we have a job to do. As do you, madam Assemblywoman."
"You look ready," Assembly head Frederik Polstadt said. "I hope you know what you're getting into."
"I'm already into it, Assemblyman Frederik. I've been into it for a full day now." She smoothed her dress. "Yes, I'm ready." They stood in an antechamber for the grand audience room: A massive area with rising stadium benches and desks full of Assemblymen, Assemblywomen, and a select group of their assistants. There was about five minutes left.
Without another word, Frederik left the room and entered the grand audience room, taking the podium, thanking the previous speaker, and beginning Yona's introduction. The place was abuzz; not a single representative was missing. I could flee. Go back to Balgarv and live with my parents. We could move. No one would ever find us. And then Frederik announced her by name, and she had no choice. She walked down the hall and entered the dizzyingly high, hot, quiet room.
The silence paid attention to her as she rose up the steps into the center of the massive room. The lamps in the ceiling poured heat onto the top of her head and shoulders as she walked to the middle of the raised floor, covered in marble, ebony tiles creating a design of hands clenched in détente. She filled her lungs with air, holding it inside until she reached the podium. She spread her papers out, raising her eyes to over four hundred men and women sitting in rising rings around her, waiting for her to begin.
They rested on Assemblyman Jhor, from Yelgiv.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining me today." Her voice took advantage of the room's careful acoustics. "My name is Yona Wairin, and I have been Balgarv's Assemblywoman for...twenty-six hours. I arrived yesterday, by train, after spending a day taking care of my father, an injured railway worker. I wasn't on the train the previous Assemblyman, Ceylmas Nodiea, and the rest of his staff were on. That is why I have survived, while the Assemblyman, his staff, and everyone else aboard the train perished in a...catastrophic accident."
She paused, and let her breath stream out. She felt like her shoulders were going to bend into a right angle behind her. "Accident." Her eyes scanned the crowd again. She lifted her right hand, and her index finger extended toward the ceiling just as she hit a switch with her left hand. A blown-up picture of the accident appeared on the blank screen hanging on the wall behind her. Everybody in the room had already seen it. "Terrible." She swallowed. "A hundred of my countrymen and countrywomen died in the accident, including Ceylmas, a kind, generous man who allowed me to become a junior under-assistant because he thought I had 'pluck.'"
She hit the switch again, and the picture changed. "What you see here is the reason the accident occurred. You are looking at a zoomed-in image of a section of track, obtained from my father through the rail service. When I said my father was a railway worker, I meant he is the head logistics supervisor for the country, in charge of maintaining every single work crew in Balgarv. He was able to get me this image, and those following. You may notice something interesting." She hit the switch. The image zoomed in. "Now, surely we all see the gap in the rail. How could a gap possibly appear in the rail of such an oft-used track? Quite a hefty section missing, as well. There is no scale, but I'm told the missing section amounts to more than three yards. More than enough to cause an accident." She hit the switch. The picture zoomed in farther. "Here is a picture of the end of the rail, after which is the missing section. Witness the marks, seen at regular intervals. These are telltale marks from a rail-cutting saw."
She had turned away, pointing herself at the suspended images to better point out the details. Now she turned back to the crowd. "Ceylmas' death was no accident! The deaths of over a hundred citizens from Balgarv was purposeful and intended." She smoothed a hand over her dress. "Which leads to this."
She hit the switch, and the crowd gasped. An image showing a pile of burnt bodies, painted in white, gray, and black, covered the wall behind her. "This is from a small border town called Negil. It houses...excuse me, housed...about three hundred people. It is also the town in which former Assemblyman Ceylmas grew up, and the town about which he was coming to make a speech.
"The country of Yelgiv, our neighbor to the north, committed this atrocity." She hit the switch a few more times, showing soldiers, tanks, mounted cavalry, prisoners led in chains, burning homes, smoldering fields, and corpses, corpses, corpses. All the while, Yona stared down Jhor, who was unable to meet her eyes. "The town is part of a border dispute--Yelgiv believed it was within their territory, Balgarv believed it was within theirs. The town decided, some time ago, it was of Balgarv. An escalation of words, actions, and intentions produced this: madness. Chaos. A butchering of bodies and homes our country has never seen.
"My late predecessor came here to draw your attention to this scene! He came here because Yelgiv had burned his home to the ground! He came here because there was a great crime committed, and such a small act may have escaped your notice otherwise! He wanted justice! He wanted action! He wanted the guilty brought before the whole of the world! Instead he, and a hundred others, perished at the hands of saboteurs!"
She placed her shaking hands on either side of the podium, leaning upon it. She took a few breaths. "I...believe Yelgiv is guilty of the murder of Assemblyman Ceylmas."
Sound fired down upon her from all sides. Jhor stood at his desk, roaring and pointing at her, and all around him Assemblymen and women and their assistants were muttering, speaking, shouting over the increasing din. She stood in the center, watching Jhor attack her with words she couldn't hear, until silence fell again. Jhor remained standing, watching her, mouth curled into a toothy grimace.
"It doesn't matter if you believe me or not," Yona said. Her heart felt ready to blast out of her new dress. She smoothed her hand over it. "It doesn't. I know Yelgiv is guilty, and I intend to make my actions swift and immediate!" she howled over the shouts. "I will not rest until Yelgiv, and Assemblyman Jhor, who I believe had prior knowledge of the successful attempt on Assemblyman Ceylmas' life, are punished for these heinous acts!"
Jhor was whipping his head back and forth between his burly assistants, pointing, gesturing to her. A smile grew on her face, topped with eyebrows sharp enough to cut glass. "I invoke the emergency action Silence and Calm, to immediately and without delay freeze and put all holds upon the Yelgiv office, including the Assemblyman himself, every member of his staff, and all documents within the office!"
She glanced to her side and saw members of security racing out of the room, she turned back to Assemblyman Jhor and brought her smile back to life. He had gone whiter than the snowy plains of her country.
The hall containing the Yelgiv office was mad, swirling with security, Assemblymen and women, and members of Jhor's staff, some of whom shot sharp glances at Yona when she appeared. She had Ulys and Fainn with her, both trying to keep from grinning--they had been in this hallway twice before, and once just an hour earlier.
She couldn't enter the office, of course--not only because it was packed with bodies, but because security would never allow her to possibly contaminate the scene she had just designated under investigation.
"Assemblywoman Wairin," Frederik said. "You do understand if no evidence of wrongdoing is found, you will be under severe punishment?"
"I understand, Assembly head," Yona said. "All too much. I am confident. But it doesn't matter, does it? Even if I am punished, I have accomplished Ceylmas' original goal. The Assembly knows of Yelgiv's horrors. What happens to me doesn't matter." Yona sighed. "But I don't think anything will happen to me."
She looked down the hall and spotted Assemblyman Jhor, jabbing his finger into a security officer's chest, waving his hand toward the office other security guards were currently investigating. He turned his head and saw Yona watching him, and she almost looked away. His face purpled, his nostrils flared, and his hands became fists. It looked to Yona like he was straining against chains, keeping him from rushing for her and reaching out to strangle her. A commotion in his office assumed her attention.
A security officer went to his captain, offering a familiar piece of paper. Yona watched the interaction, telling herself over and over not to react to anything she saw.
Jhor should have been repeating the same mantra. "She set me up!" he shouted, from down the hall. "She's responsible for this! I demand you search her office as well!"
The security captain handed the piece of paper to Assembly head Frederik, who scanned it. His jaw set, he handed the piece of paper back, then gestured at Jhor, who had approached and watched as Yona had. "Arrest him."
"No!" Jhor pushed away from the closest security guard, then his eyes landed on Yona. "You'll pay for this!"
He leapt forward, hands outstretched and curled into claws, and then fell, trying to slide to a stop before he got any closer as his expression changed from fury to fear.
Yona bent down, pressing the barrel of her hand cannon against his chest. "I figured I should find something I could use to defend myself, if necessary," she said. The entire hall was silent. "I decided not to put it past you to be just as murderous and under-handed as the country paying your bills." She stood upright and slipped the weapon back inside her dress. "I hope to never see you again, Jhor."
She started making her way back to her office, and word was already spreading. She would give her second of many speeches as Assemblywoman a week later, at the funeral for Ceylmas and all the others lost in the terrorist attack on the train, the honor guard of dozens of countries behind her.
She found her desk and chair had shrunk; they fit her perfectly.
One day before
Yona Wairin stumbled off the train, pushed by the crowd of people behind her. She was startled by the piercing whistle. Her coat was nearly torn off by the train surging out of the station behind her, and she had to wait for five minutes just to pull herself up the staircase, into the sun. She was blinded by it. With her hand in the way, she found the Assembly building, straight ahead. When she tried to cross the street, she was nearly struck by a taxi car.
The building the Assembly gathered in, for a month out of the year, was the tallest, brightest, most artistic building around. You saw it whether you wanted to or not. Yona's attention was arrested by it, and as her eyes followed the golden bars whipping around the corners, and the silver bubbles topping each section, and the red, blue, and black stone walls, a young man came up and stood by her, inspecting it with her.
"Quite a sight, isn't it?" he said, and she jumped. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Have you ever seen the Assembly building before?"
"No, I-"
"Did you know that the designer Spirem Holdator went through thirty different designs before he got one that he liked enough to try and build? And then that one was refused by the assembly because there wasn't enough space inside? It took another year for Holdator to create a design that was good enough for his artistic sensibilities, and suited all of the Assembly's needs."
"Actually I-"
"There are two hundred assembly members, each of them with a dozen or so assistants and secretaries, as well as security, janitorial services, board rooms, facilities...not to mention the grand audience room, of course. What do you expect from a group that's in charge of peace and war in the land?"
Yona looked up at the young man. He was standing next to her, staring across the street as she was, one hand resting on his chin and the other cupping an elbow. In a few hours, she would discover her wallet was missing, stolen by this young man's partner in one of the city's many pickpocketing schemes. She frowned.
"Do you know the easiest way to get to it?" she asked. Her ample bosom was squashed by the case she held in her arms, containing papers, information, and her security clearance. "I'm an under-assistant for assemblyman Ceylmas."
His head tilted toward her. "Are you? What a fine coincidence! Here I am, telling you everything you already know, and you just want to get on with you job. This way, this way! I've lived in this city all my life; what you need to do is stand here and wait for the signal. Once the signal changes, the traffic will stop, and you can proceed to the other side." His directions whizzed by, and she blinked as he talked. He used his arm to indicate a few turns, and then left her at the corner, waiting for the signal to change.
A few minutes later, a security office for the city asked her why she was standing there. He told her the signal didn't change; she should go to the other end of the train station's sidewalk and wait for the entirely visually distinct signal there, and then she has a straight shot for the Assembly building.
Her hurried speed left her winded and coughing; her hair was escaping its braid. The short heels under her feet clacked with each step, and she cursed the cold--her coat lay forgotten at home.
Stopped by the security guard outside the main entrance of the assembly building, she had to rifle through her case to pull the sheet out. She had to sit in a small office while they made her a badge, and then she was free to sprint down the hallways, one after another, until she stopped one of the guards in the hall and asked her where the Assemblyman for the country of Balgarv was.
After she explained where Balgarv was, and how small it was, the guard explained the alphabetical system the rooms used--they were in the hallway housing the countries Kyf to Lwerilliat. After thanking the guard, Yona ran the incorrect direction, and had her progress stopped by a blank wall. She used the wall's accompanying bench to sit and regain her breath, and try not to cry.
An hour later she found the double doors emblazoned with the name of her country, the Assemblyman, and all of his assistants. Her name was at the bottom of the five-person list, not counting the secretaries. She grabbed the handle of the door on the left and tried to turn it, pushing forward, only to crash into the still-shut door and drop her case's papers all over the ground. She flopped onto her bottom and rolled a small distance away, legs stuck out like a collapsed chair. She helped herself to her hands and knees, grabbed the papers, stuffed them inside her case, rose to her feet, took a breath, adjusted her hair, grabbed the handle of the right-side door, and crashed to the ground once more.
Both of the doors were locked. She shook both of the handles, pounded with the side of her fist, looked around for a sign or notification--perhaps they were all out to lunch, or had stepped into one of the many available meeting rooms to go over details of the next day. She pressed her forehead against the cold wooden door, right next to her engraved name. She heard footsteps.
"Is there a reason you have been trying to get inside?" a woman taller, thinner, and older than Yona asked. "May I see you ID?"
"I'm...I'm Yona Wairin," she said, pointing at her name on the door. She dug her badge out of a pocket. "Do you know why the door's locked? Where is everybody? I really need to get inside, the Assemblyman needs as much help as he can get--the only reason I wasn't on the train with them yesterday is I had to go to my parent's home and help my dad. He fell, you see, and I needed to help my mother take care of him. Assemblyman Ceylmas said it was alright if I come a day later because I'm just a junior under-assistant, but he has a very important speech to give tomorrow and we all have to help him prepare, and-"
Her words were stopped by the woman's upraised hand. The woman's expression had gone blank. She took a few seconds before she spoke: "Yona, you said your name was?" Yona nodded. The woman took a deep breath. "I have some bad news, young lady."
Chell placed a porcelain cup, full of strong tea, in front of her. They sat in the front room of the Berwy Assemblyman's offices. The assemblyman and an assistant were working quietly, reading dispatches and talking about upcoming appointments in the next room. Chell, the Berwy Assemblyman's secretary, was on the other side of her desk, watching Yona take a sip.
"Bitter?" Yona nodded. "I've heard your tea is much sweeter than ours. How about some honey?"
"Yes please."
Chell handed the bottle across the desk. She watched Yona pour a more-than-healthy amount into the small cup, and took the bottle back. Yona drank another sip, and nodded to herself.
They looked at each other across the desk, Yona with a few fingers around the cup's handle as it rested on the saucer, and Chell with her hands clasped together on the table. Yona opened her mouth, let it hang for a moment, then closed it again. Chell turned to a short pile of papers, and flipped through until she found a certain one. She scanned it, and then handed it to Yona without looking at her.
It was an official Assembly dispatch, sent to all the represented countries in the building. Yona read it, then read it again. She looked at the single picture for so long it lost meaning. Her tea grew cold, and the honey within became solid. She became too ill to drink it anyway. Chell watched her face: from confusion to sadness, back to confusion, more sadness before jumping to thoughtfulness and, finally, terror.
"They...they!" Yona covered her mouth with her free hand. Chell watched tears appear. "They can't do that! It isn't fair! The Assembly has to do something!"
"I wish I could help, dear. But there are rules. I'm not allowed to confer with you on matters like these unless a third party is present. Besides, I'm just a secretary."
Yona was staring at her hands as they lay in her lap. "What do I do?"
"As I said, I can't really give you any advice. Though, if this was happening to me, I would first contact security and tell them the new Balgarv Assemblywoman needs keys for her office."
It was very cold inside. The security guard showed her how to turn the heater on, what each room was, where everything was. He asked her why she didn't know anything, and it took every ounce of energy for her to say it was her first time in the Assembly building. He closed the door behind him when he left, and she was buffeted by the gust of air.
She cranked the heater all the way up and opened all the doors, which had the effect of pointing out the startling, tragic emptiness of the place. There were no windows; she had to find the switches to each lamp, banishing the dark shadows--and turning the empty rooms white and bright.
She, as Assemblywoman, sat behind her massive desk, full of papers and writing utensils, empty cups of tea, garbage, personal effects of the previous Assemblyman. She was swallowed by the leather chair; her feet didn't reach the floor when she sat in it. She could hear a speech vibrating up from the grand audience room many floors below, and after a few minutes she found the day's schedule, delivered into each Assemblyman's mail slot. The current speech was about snow removal from a shared railway.
She flipped forward a day. At two o'clock, in the grand audience room: "Balgarv Assemblyman Ceylmas on Yelgiv Aggression into Balgarv." It was struck through, and the word "canceled" was printed next to it. Everybody had known about it but her.
She placed her case on the big desk in front of her, pulling herself closer using the chair's wheels. She opened her case and dumped it empty, finding her copy of the speech Assemblyman Ceylmas was supposed to give. The duty now fell to her.
She sat in her big chair, behind her big desk, and cried big tears.
Fifteen minutes later, she was fixing herself some tea. She was supposed to help the Assemblyman make the speech perfect, not give it herself. She was supposed to be the Junior Under-Assistant to the Assemblyman, not the Assemblywoman! She was supposed to have a small desk in the corner of the assistant's room, not the biggest desk in the entire office! She was supposed to stand against the wall as she watched kind, generous, optimistic Assemblyman Ceylmas deliver a speech about a violent neighboring country, not stand in the center of the grand audience room and give it herself! The rest of the Assembly didn't even know she was still going to give it!
Did she have to? It was canceled. It said so right on the schedule. She could slip out a back door, get back on her train, and live with her parents--take care of her father for the rest of her life. Nobody would even know she hadn't been on the train with the Assemblyman. They would think she was dead.
She stood in front of the stove, watching her pot of water. She spun on her heel and went to the mail slot, stuffed full of memos, letters from other offices, announcements, and official news. They poured at her feet and she bent down to sift through them. The mail service is a busy one in the Assembly building, delivering enough to rise up to her ankles, and she felt her fingers shocked by tiny cuts from the diverse paper stock and card weights. She had to get all the way to the bottom to find what she was looking for.
The announcement was mostly text, but there was one picture. The train's engine, tipped onto its side, passenger cars piled up behind it in a huge, metal knot containing over a hundred departed souls. Men and women, looking serious and solemn, stood with arms crossed, or clasped behind their backs. Smoke rose out of sight. The picture was grainy; the photographer had taken it at a distance.
One of the paragraphs alongside the picture had the sentence she was looking for: "The train carried Balgarv Assemblyman Ceylmas and his entire staff to the Assembly building."
But Chell knew she was there, didn't she. Yes, and so did the security guards who had helped her get into the office. And the one who had made up her badge. Even the nice man outside the train station who had tried to tell her the history of the building she now sat inside, resting on her backside next to a pile of papers delivered to an empty office. They knew she was here; she couldn't just run away. Well, she could, but they would know.
She looked at the picture again. The Assemblyman and all of her co-workers had been on the train. They thought she had been, too. There was a body--the grainy photo made it fuzzy--and she peered close. Could she recognize it? No, it wasn't anyone she knew, just-
Another countryman. One of the sixteen thousand Balgarvians she now represented. One of the hundred who had died when the train out of their country had struck something. Struck what, exactly? She scanned the page. Before, sitting across from Chell, she had been too flustered, too confused, too scared to read it very well. Now she dug into each paragraph: "It was first thought the train had struck something on the track, it was quickly revealed a small gap in the rails threw the wheels off, resulting in the catastrophic accident."
A small gap in the rails. A small gap in the rails responsible for all of her country's exports and imports. A small gap in one of the rails her father, and a huge number of other Balgarvians were responsible for checking and maintaining. A gap. A gap.
Resulting in a catastrophic accident.
She put the notice down and rolled to her knees, using the wall to pull herself up. A gap in the rails of her country, resulting in a catastrophic accident of a train carrying the Assemblyman.
The Assemblyman who was going to give a speech about foreign aggression two days later. About the aggression from a neighboring country.
It couldn't be.
But it could. Yelgiv could have sabotaged the track, on which a train, carrying the Assemblyman who was about to give a speech about Yelgiv's aggression into Balgarv, was using.
Her teapot whistled, and she went over to it. The office was out of tea bags. Well, she could contact Building Services and schedule a delivery. At least she knew something.
"I'm sorry, I'm sure..." Yona patted her every pocket. "I know I had it with my when I got off the train. Maybe it's in the office. I'm sorry," she said to the wordless delivery man, who had a bag of tea and a few other things. "Just one moment."
She hustled into the Assemblyman's office--her office had not yet staked a claim in her head--and searched through her things. No, her wallet was missing. Perhaps she had slipped it into a drawer? She pulled a few open. The third one down, on the right, contained a leather pouch full of money, and a few sheets of paper. She dashed it out, and the sheets of paper flew out after it. She pressed her guilt back down into her stomach as she returned to the front of the office and paid the delivery man, who shut the door as he left.
She placed a fresh bag of tea into her hot mug of water, and took it back to the Assemblyman's office. Once more she sat in the huge chair, behind the huge desk. The papers she had scattered had drifted across the floor, and she bent down to scoop them up.
At the top of one of them was "The Rules."
She frowned, and read on. A little voice reminded her she wasn't supposed to read other's mail, but it went largely ignored.
"1: Take it seriously."
Seriously? Take what seriously? she thought as she sat in the Assemblyman's chair, behind the Assemblyman's desk, in the Assemblyman's office.
"2: Do your homework."
After a few seconds of staring at the line, Yona lowered the piece of paper and spied her copy of the speech. Her copy of her speech.
"3: Look and act the part."
She glanced down at her clothes. They weren't sloppy, but they weren't the outfit of an Assemblywoman; such was clear and apparent.
"4: Do not take yourself seriously. Humility, and humor."
Assemblyman Ceylmas had always laughed. Always joked. He could take a tease and loved to shoot them right back. He was kind, generous, he would stoop to help another.
"5: Be steady and reassuring, as well as emphatic and emotional."
She looked around the empty room. The loudest thing she could hear was the clock ticking on the wall next to her. There were more rules, about some things she didn't really understand--she could be truthful with herself here: she was lost. The only reason she didn't cry again was because she felt too dry. She took a drink of tea, and realized she hadn't put any sugar in it. At least I have the emotional part done, she thought. She stood and once more went around the big desk to the main room, where she dug the bag of sugar out of the cupboard. While stirring, she looked over The Rules once more. There was one at the bottom: "Be skeptical, but sincere."
She would have to be sincere with herself, first, and then she could be skeptical. And the sincerity was her skepticism. She thought Yelgiv had sabotaged the train track and caused the catastrophic accident. To keep the Assemblyman from giving a speech designed to stop Yelgiv's aggressive actions into her country.
Rule number one was "Take it seriously." She took her tea into her office and sat down to read her speech.
Yona smoothed her hair back and knocked on the immense door. A few seconds later, a bald, wrinkled man appeared in the crack as the door opened. He squinted, expecting the knocker to be taller, but eventually his eyes drifted downward to settle on her. "Yes, young lady," he said, breath wheezing out, "can I help you?"
"I'm here for my meeting with the Assembly head," Yona said.
"Young lady, I do not know who you are, and there is no meeting on the schedule at this time." He began to close the door.
"Excuse me-" Yona was able to put enough strength into her voice to stop the motion. "I called half and hour ago and requested a meeting. My name is Yona Wairin and I am the Assemblywoman for Balgarv. I...will be giving a speech tomorrow, and I must meet with the Assembly head."
"Young lady, I do not appreciate such cruel jokes. I know as well as anyone that the Balgarv Assemblyman, as well as his entire staff, died not a day ago, and you are certainly not old enough to-" He peered at the badge she held up to his nose.
"I am acting Assemblywoman at this time," Yona said. "I was not on the train that crashed. As acting Assemblywoman, I request a meeting with the Assembly head, and I'm afraid I must insist."
A few minutes later Yona stared straight ahead at a blank wall, over a second couch. She sat on the first, hands clasped in her lap to keep them from shaking. Behind her, a door swung open, and she heard someone bustle in as she rose.
She came face-to-chest with a man wearing an impeccable suit, and the short mantle of the Assembly head, the elected chairman of this year's Assembly period, master of ceremonies, and the Assemblyman of one of the world's larger countries, Missai: a military might, trade leader, and scientific ground-breaker. Just one of its many provinces contained two, three, or four times the entire population of her country.
"You aren't Ceylmas," the man said. "I was told Ceylmas was waiting for me!"
"I'm afraid not, sir." Do not take yourself seriously. "As you can see, I am not him." Yona smiled and extended her hand. "My name is Yona Wairin. I was an under-assistant until yesterday." The head nearly had to bend down to shake her hand. "But until a new election takes place, I am acting Assemblywoman."
"How did you survive?" the head said, sitting on the couch across from her. He hadn't introduced himself, but Yona knew his name. Do your homework: Frederik Polstadt. "I'd heard there were no survivors!"
"There were no survivors, sir. I took a different train that arrived today."
"Well, I'm glad you survived!" Frederik said. He leaned forward. "You still mean to make a speech?"
"Yes sir. If I do nothing during my tenure except a single speech, tomorrow, I will consider it a successful tenure."
"You will have a hard time of it, you know. Nobody even knows who you are! Why will they be forced to listen to you? I wouldn't be surprised if not many people even attend the speech."
Try as she might, Yona couldn't keep from frowning. "Unfortunate, I know," Frederik continued, "but there isn't much reason for them to attend. A small country, discussing unfounded claims of military aggression, delivered by a...junior under-assistant to the previous Assemblyman."
Hot blood surged through Yona's face. "Unfounded," she whispered to herself. To her surprise, the word stopped the head short, and he lost some of the color in his face. She leapt before she could think about it. "Sir, I must be sincere. They are not unfounded. In fact, if what I believe is true, there is concrete evidence of Yelgiv's aggression." She stood up, trying to make her posture straight, like Ceylmas had been. "I mean to call my country's violent neighbors onto the floor tomorrow, and demand an explanation."
"I'm afraid there is not much time on the schedule," Frederik said. He donned a pair of small spectacles, retrieving a card from a pocket of his coat. "The time slot Ceylmas had requested has been filled. In fact, there aren't any other times available for..." the head muttered to himself, pulling another card out. "Oh dear. There isn't enough time left for you. I can ask some of the other Assemblymen if they will be accommodating, or I can notify you if an opening-"
Yona waited through his explanation. No time. No time to discuss aggression into her country. No time to discuss an accident in which a hundred of her countrymen and women had perished.
"Sir, forgive my interruption." The head stopped, gazing at Yona in surprise. "Statute 947-2 of the Assembly laws allow a demand for speaking time under the provision of 'extreme danger to a country and/or criminal action between countries.' My speech involves both. So, Assembly head Frederik Polstadt, I hereby demand speaking time, and you have not the power to deny me it."
Her heart was about to leap from her chest. Her knees barely kept her upright. Frederik scowled. "Now just a minute, young lady, it's very late, and these things must-"
"I agree, Assembly head, they must. And believe me, they will." Yona looked into his eyes. "Tomorrow, at the time originally dedicated to Ceylmas. No need to contact the Yolut Assemblyman--I believe he had the slot--I will be sending a formal apology to him, explaining myself."
She spun. "Forgive me, Assembly head, there is much I have to do before tomorrow."
"Young lady, the concrete evidence...what is it?"
"I'm afraid you must wait until tomorrow, sir."
Because she did not have it yet. Inside her office, she fell to her knees, clenching her arms around her stomach, wondering if she was about to cover the floor in bile-strewn tea. Tears clouded her vision, saliva filled her mouth, a din of sirens flooded her ears.
In a few seconds it passed, without expulsion. She pressed her forehead to the frigid tiles under her and took steady breaths until she was able to rise. Wobbling to her desk, she sat in the big chair. The small clock on the wall next to her told her it was nearly nine at night. She should still have time.
She lifted the phone from its gold wire cradle and spun the dial to reach the operator. "Balgarv two, 3143 please." The phone buzzed as she was connected. "Mother?"
"Yona! This is a surprise! We figured you would be hard at work! How is the Assembly building? Is it as beautiful as Ceylmas told you? How is he? Nervous, I bet!"
"Mother, I need to speak to father."
"Oh, sorry, dear, he's just gone down. The doctor said-"
"Mother." The nausea returned. "Wake him."
She heard nothing from the other end. "Dear...has something happened?"
Yona breathed in deep, clearing her head, silencing the sirens. She heard the clock tick away a few seconds. "Assemblyman Ceylmas died yesterday. The train he was on, with the rest of his staff, crashed. Mother, wake father and give him the phone. I need to know something for my speech tomorrow."
There was a clunk--the sound of the phone striking wood. Yona waited for several minutes, and then she heard her father's sleepy voice. "Yona? Your mother is too excited to tell me what's happened, but something clearly has."
"I don't have a lot of time, father: I am the assemblywoman for Balgarv. Ceylmas perished in a train crash."
A short pause. "The crash on line nine? Yesterday? The assemblyman was on it?"
"Yes."
As if from a distance: "Issla! Fetch my rolo! Yes, the one for the office!" Back into the phone: "I heard about it just after you left, Yona."
"Did you see how the crash happened? A gap in the track."
"Reindeer piles. There's no way that's true. Someone would have had to come along and chop a piece out. Sabotage."
"Father, I know you need your rest, but I need your help. Find out everything you can about the track and the accident: where it was, when it was, details about the track, everything you can." She relayed a number he could use to reach her. "You may have to leave a message; I will be away from my desk."
"Yona, do you suspect foul play?"
"I shouldn't say, father. Can you help?"
"Certainly!" She could practically hear her father puff out his chest, then grimace and grab his back. "You can count on me."
"Thank you, father. Say goodbye to mother for me, I must go."
Now I'm ordering my father around.
The pad of paper on the big desk in front of her had a single item on it: Call father. She crossed it off and wrote a few more things, wracking her brain to make sure the list was complete. It was shorter than she expected.
Chell had her coat and bag in hand in the hallway, ready to head to the hotel her Assemblyman's staff used, when she heard the Balgarv office door open. "Hello, Assemblywoman."
"Hello Chell. Clocking out for the night?" Yona had her bag as well, though had placed anything important in hard-to-reach pockets on her person.
"Indeed. How are you? Keeping your spirits up?"
"I think I am. I bossed the Assembly head around just an hour ago."
"Then you'll fit right in," Chell said. "What is it you need?"
"A few things from the city. I won't keep you...just tell me the best place to find them." She handed her list to Chell, and the older woman scanned down it.
"I have a few places for that...somewhere for that, though I must admit I am confused why you would need it...there are several places you can go here in the building for that." She scowled and tilted her head away from the paper. "I have no idea where you would get that, and I advice you destroy that section of the list, just in case someone with official status lays eyes on it."
"Noted." Chell took the list back and nodded. "Thank you, Chell. I hope to see Assemblyman Aron tomorrow."
"He will surely be there. I won't let him skip."
She followed the instructions on Chell's hand-written note until she reached what her mother called a "frippery store." The most expensive dress Yona had ever seen dominated the front window, too slim and lengthy for her to ever fit inside. She stepped through the door.
"Greetings, young lady!" a voice said, and she found a woman standing next to her. "I would love to help you but we are mere moments from closing for the day! Perhaps you could return tomorrow? I'll have you looking spectacular!"
"My name is Yona Wairin," Yona said, pulling out her badge. "Due to unforeseen circumstances, I am acting Assemblywoman for my country, Balgarv, and I have a speech to give tomorrow." The woman frowned. "And I need a dress. You look like someone who knows her dresses." Yona smiled. "And I need someone who knows her dresses."
"You'll want something flashy, yet sensible," the woman said, a few minutes later. Yona stood in front of three floor-length mirrors, examining her snowman-shaped body from three angles. "Something they won't mutter about later, something they'll notice as soon as you enter. Something serious. Something exciting."
"Do you...have something like that?" Yona asked.
"Madam Assemblywoman, we have everything."
A moment later a dress was pushed into her hands. "Try this on. Don't worry if it isn't a perfect fit, I can adjust it." Yona stepped into a small changing cubby and disrobed, slipping the dress over her head. When she exited and stood in front of the woman, the woman tilted her head back and forth, tapping one finger against her lips. "No."
A whirlwind of styles, cuts, colors, and lengths issued forth from the endless closets of the shop, piling in Yona's arms as the woman went back and forth, talking to herself and Yona in equal amounts. Some of the outfits never reached the newly-minted assemblywoman before the woman deemed them irresponsible, irreverent, trash, last year's hopeless looks, an unconscionable pairing of color and shape, or too small. Yona ended up with two she liked.
"Both wonderful looks, miss," the woman said. "Slimming, daring, attractive."
"You can make adjustments to them?" Yona asked. Both of the dresses were hanging from hooks in front of her. Her eyes went from one to the other.
"Of course! Anything you want! All you have to do is decide which one you prefer...and, of course, tell me the bank account number to charge."
Yona nodded. With a final glance at the runner-up, she pointed at one of the designs. "That one."
"Excellent! When I'm finished, you will stun them!"
"I'll want adjustments done," Yona said as the woman took the winner off the hook, folding it gently over her arm, and flung the loser back into the closet whence it came.
"Certainly! Why don't you don it once more, and I can make notes. There's nothing at all to fear, miss, I'll be sure to have it finished by...nine o'clock tomorrow morning! I will work until sunrise if I must!"
"I will need special adjustments."
The woman looked over her pad of paper, squinting. "Whatever do you mean?"
Yona would pick the outfit up at ten the following morning, likely dragging herself to the shop after a sleepless night. If only I had just one assistant. This would be so much easier. "Go pick up my outfit for the speech, so I have time to convince the Assembly our country is in danger."
She stood at the train station, inspecting each person she saw. The young man who had come up to speak to her was likely long gone, but there would be others.
So, when she saw the same gregarious man who had distracted her with facts of the building she worked inside, scanning the crowd in search of a new mark. It took her a few seconds to wipe the surprise off her face. She double-checked to make sure none of her personal effects were within reach of prying fingers.
She started hyperventilating, mussing up her hair, mis-arranging her clothing, trying to look like the overworked under-assistant she should have been, and then she went running up to the young man, waving her hand. "Excuse me! Excuse me!"
The young man's eyes went wide, Yona saw, but only for a moment. In the next, his bright smile appeared. "Why hello! Strange to see you again! I expected you to be working hard! Whatever brings you back?"
"Oh, yes, quite hard. Quite hard indeed, actually, harder than I thought I would. Well, actually, the Assemblywoman is in need of someone like you. Someone who knows the history of the Assembly building."
The young man raised an eyebrow and tilted his head toward her. There. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you?" Yona shot her left hand down, latching her chubby fingers around the wrist reaching for the pocket of her coat. She looked at the hand, then up at the face it was attached to. It was a younger man than the other, maybe still a boy, and it was white in the dark train station. "Stay, if you would. You wouldn't want me to raise my voice, now would you?"
"Let him go," the older man said. "I'm the one you want. He's just helping me."
"I want both of you," Yona said, hanging on to the wriggling wrist. "You're going to do something for me, or I'm going to drag this young man right over to that nice armed guard and demand satisfaction."
The older of the two reached into his pocket. "You want your money back, fine, here, take it, you didn't have that much anyway, just let him go."
"I don't want my money back. I want something worth much more." Yona snatched the money from him anyway. "Say yes, or I will start shouting. And trust me, when an armed guard discovers someone has stolen from an Assemblywoman, they take these things seriously. Why don't you tell me your name?"
The older spiked the younger one with a harsh look. "Ulys."
At first, the two had refused her request--too difficult, too risky, too illegal. A little bit of pressing, however, and the two--brothers--agreed. They set up an hour, a cover story, and a few extra details; Yona was on her way to her last task in the city. Another purchase, this one less popular but, she feared, more important than a simple dress. She was able to get a little bit of information out of Ulys and his brother, Fainn, and then headed to the darker part of town.
It took some time to convince the proprietor of the establishment she chose of her sincerity, but eventually she left with her purchase in hand. Getting it inside the Assembly building was another task, however, and she stopped around the corner to consider her options. She couldn't walk through the door, they would never allow it. Disguise it as a delivery? No, they search each one. Have the brothers bring it? No, they couldn't escape without a frisk. She asked herself what Assemblyman Ceylmas would do, but he wouldn't have even considered doing such things.
Well, she didn't know if he would or wouldn't, in fact. I only met him once, during the meeting he had with her and her parents. The man had been cheerful, laughing, accepting of his own faults, but he did make a mess. Her mother hadn't even noticed until after he had left. He was such an engaging conversationalist, they overlooked small missteps. And perhaps bigger missteps as well?
She looked down at the package in her hands. Anyone who opened it would be able to tell what it was at a glance, and then it would be out of her hands. So, just don't let anyone open it. The four guards at the door may have something to say to such a request, though.
Finding a nearby bench, Yona sighed. She set the package on her legs and breathed out a cone of steam, shivering. If Ceylmas had found her sitting there, and known what she wanted to do, what would he say? Would he take the package out of her hands and throw it into a frozen river? Help her hide it while she snuck in? No, he would probably sit next to her and help her do it right, do it properly. Within the bounds of the law, unlike her opponents. Surely the laws of the Assembly had something to say about her situation.
She would find it. She would do it the right way. She would walk into the center of the grand audience room with the right and might of the entire Assembly behind her, and more.
What to do with the package. Hide it somewhere, perhaps, but someone might find it and take it away, or worse, use it. Have the guards hold it. They would look inside. It was back to the train station, spending a few recovered coins to rent a night locker. She jammed her package inside and hoped no one would grow suspicious.
Now nearly midnight, it was even colder inside her office. She turned the heater back on and started a pot of water. The building was silent, even though she knew she wasn't the only Assembly member working late. She might end up being the latest, but she wasn't alone.
She read her speech again. She noted where things might need to change, then lifted the phone next to her. She dialed the message system and found a recording. "Yona, I would bet my back on it," her father had said. "If it wasn't foul play it was a one in a million chance. Part of the track was removed! The rail service is going to do a full inquiry starting soon. I've wired the pictures you wanted me to try and get. Couldn't find all of them, but I think you'll be pleased."
The pictures wouldn't arrive for a few hours, even with express delivery. Yona replaced the receiver and turned back to her speech. She found a pad of paper and started re-writing it, leaving blank spots for later information. After an hour she leaned back, nearly swallowed by the immense chair, and stretched. Her fingers were cramping.
Taking her tea into a different room, she once again found the list of laws the Assembly followed, in which she had found the rule allowing her to demand speaking time from the Assembly head. She took the final volume, entirely an index and glossary, and scanned it for relevant terms. Flipping to the correct spots in the other volumes, she read everything she could. It wasn't necessary to have her package with her, but it would make her feel better.
Well, to allow the package inside security would require reasonable need. Her father's pictures would help her there. She changed gears, hunting down a few other rules and ideas. Some of them didn't pan out--or were impossible for her to maneuver with less than a day. One, however, looked just right. She filled her arms with rulebooks and hauled them to her big desk. It was two o'clock in the morning. It was silent, and calm.
"Yes ma'am, of course, I will send the pictures to you as soon as possible," said the mail shop worker, a tired man sitting behind a desk. "The same way I send everything. No need to fret, really." The man lifted a limp hand to pacify Yona, who hadn't said a word or even moved. "You can count on me."
"Excellent. Thank you. That's wonderful to hear." Yona gave as big a smile as she could. "I look forward to seeing them arrive."
Next she went down several floors, walking through the cold, quiet, empty hallways and clattering down the stone staircases of the sleepy building, until she got to multi-media assistance. The one worker there similarly assured her everything she requested was not only possible, but common. "Picture aids are frequent, dearie. I tell you, I've seen some gruesome stuff. War criminals get my blood up, I tell you what. Which Assemblyman did you say you worked with?"
She got back to her office before four o'clock, and found the brothers inside, sipping on cups of tea and looking around. "Your office is a lot smaller than their's."
"Balgarv is a smaller country," Yona said. They followed her to her desk. Seeing them sit on the other side of the desk, waiting for her to begin, Yona had to take a deep breath to keep from getting dizzy. "Any luck?"
Ulys glanced at Fainn, who let a small smile creep onto his face. From his sleeve, he drew a piece of paper--it was almost as if it appeared in his hand out of thin air. He pressed it onto the desk and leaned back in his chair, crossing a leg over the other.
She slid the piece of paper closer.
Ulys and his brother watched her eyes slide across the rows of text, sometimes jumping ahead, sometimes going back to re-read. They watched her hands form fists, and her brow clench. When she reached the bottom of the page she turned it over, finding the other side blank.
They waited until she pushed the piece of paper back toward them. "What now?" Ulys asked. "Take this to the authorities?"
"They'll never accept it. Yelgiv will say I just made it myself. They have to be caught with it."
"By who?"
"Leave that to me."
The brothers left an hour before. Yona was bent over her speech again, tweaking the words. It looked good. If only I had some experience with this.
She heard a clunk of something landing in the mailslot, and ran to see. There were two items: The first was a copy of the day's schedule. In place of the Yolut Assemblyman's demonstration of fishing tariffs, her name--and her title, "Balgarv Assemblywoman"--were written in red. The item stood out like a snowball to the face. At two o'clock, about nine hours away, she would stand in the center of the marble platform, the rising rings of the Assembly members and their assistants around her.
Seeing the red proclamation, after thinking the Balgarv Assemblyman and his entire staff had perished a few days prior, no one would be absent. She will give her speech to the full Assembly.
Including the Yelgiv Assemblyman. The second item was an envelope full of pictures from her father, along with explanations, construction data, diagrams, even physics explanations. It was clear and evident. But she already knew it would be, thanks to what the brothers had lifted from the Yelgiv Assemblyman's office. What the pictures did was make it evident to everyone--the entire Assembly.
She had to finish her speech--add this new information in--but a few things first. She opened the door to the hall and poked her head out, checking both directions. She knew she was being a touch dramatic, but she didn't know what to expect. Likely most of the building knew there was another Balgarv representative now, she would have to be careful if she wanted to use her time wisely. To the train station.
Her package was still there, undisturbed. She tucked it under her arm and marched back to the Assembly building, armed with her pictures and a few pieces of information.
As expected, the security office took the package from her hands and opened it. When they saw what was within, they told her they would have to confiscate it. As soon as they did, one of them picked the package up and began to remove it from the room.
"Just a moment," Yona said. She took her folder of pictures--already checked--from under her arm. She laid the pictures out on the table and began to explain what had happened. After a few minutes she looked up. "Someone made a successful attempt on the life of the previous Balgarv Assemblyman, as you can clearly see. Now I have thoughts about who is responsible, but I should not say. What I can say, is under statute 800.2 of Assembly law, an assemblyman--or woman--is allowed to have an item of self-defense carried with him or her if he or she demonstrates a probable danger to him or herself. In less than half a day, I plan to give a speech before the entire Assembly about this event, and more. If what I think is correct, my life will be in danger."
"We will have to register it."
"Fine."
"It will take a few hours."
Yona frowned. "A few hours? Why?"
"Do you have a proper license?"
"What kind do I need?" Yona hadn't thought about a license.
"The kind we're going to give you after we've registered it. It gives you the freedom to carry within the Assembly building only. If you use it in a criminal act, you are fully responsible."
"Of course. How long will it take?"
The security guard leaned back in his chair. "The captain has to check it off for something like this. But we can do all the legwork before he gets in. Shouldn't take more than a few hours."
"Thank you. It's good to know security is taken so seriously here." Yona began scooping her pictures back into a pile. "Expect me at noon, no later."
The halls were a bit busy by the time she got back to her office, but she couldn't rest yet. She took another look at her speech, deciding where to add the information her father had sent her, and then it was back to walking through the building until she reached the multi-media assistance office. The same woman as before accepted the pictures, then prepared giant-sized slides Yona could use during her speech. Yona watched the process carefully, wondering if the multi-media woman could be trusted and berating herself for thinking such a thing. But, in a few minutes, it was done.
She still had some time before she had to fetch her dress from the shop, so she sat behind her big desk and re-wrote her speech, inspecting each sentence and word. Would it work?
Would it do what she wanted? Would it do what was right, proper? It could potentially throw the Assembly into chaos. If she misstepped, or misspoke, her country would pay the price. Blood rushed to her head, and her heart pounded. But, no. She knew what was at stake, and she knew all of the information. She held all the cards, and some other things as well. Maybe things wouldn't fall into place as she hoped and imagined, but she was doing the right thing. She knew Yelgiv was at fault. She knew if she did nothing, her country's bigger neighbor would take advantage--no Assemblyman, as they had tried to pull off, would make sure the eyes of the other, larger countries kept away from their small northern territories.
She pushed the thoughts out of her head. She would drown in her own perspiration before she even entered the audience hall at her current rate. Perhaps she should turn the heater down.
Some time before ten o'clock Yona once again went to the dress store, and found it quite a bit busier. Women of all ages entered and left with alacrity, numerous employees ran to and fro with outfits draped over their arms. It was louder, brighter, and hotter than before.
Yona detected an employee not currently helping anyone, and wound her way through the racks and bodies. "Excuse me," Yona said. "I was in last night. An employee told me she would have my dress ready at this time."
"Certainly, miss. If you would come with me?" The woman led Yona to a small table in a corner, away from the noise. "Your name, please?"
"Yona Wairin." She spelt it. "I hope there's no problem. It's very important."
"Wairin, Wairin." The woman scanned down a list. "Aha, yes. Overnight job, rush...would you like to pay now?"
"Yes. Charge it to the Balgarv Assembly account."
"Of course miss. Let's go and see, shall we? It looks like...oh."
Yona frowned. "Oh?"
"It's nothing. Please, follow me." The woman departed, but Yona hung back for a second. The woman moved quickly, making a beeline for a door. Yona trailed her, squeezing between the other shoppers. The woman pulled open the door, allowing Yona to enter first, who stopped a few feet in, jolted to a halt.
The woman Yona had talked with the night before--at least, she thought it was the same woman--stood in the middle of a room full of tables, half-finished outfits, sewing materials, and bare dress forms. Same height, same size, same hair color--though the hair was now free of its bun and dangling in the woman's face. She seemed pale, and here eyes were wide and tinged with red. There were cuts on her fingers, and small bits of fabric strewn about her person, clinging to her body and outfit. The woman looked up, saw Yona standing shocked, and bolted to her feet. "Madam Assemblywoman! What perfect timing you have! I have just finished your dress!"
"You're the Assemblywoman?"
"Thank you, very much!" Yona said. She hurried forward and found the outfit she had picked out the night before on lying flat on the table. "You made all the adjustments I asked for?"
"Madam, this will fit you like a dream. It will fit you like a cloud. You may believe you are wearing nothing at all!"
"Are you all right, Tiertia?" The wide-eyed woman looked at the other employee. "Have you been up all night?"
"Yes I have! The Assemblywoman trusted me to make a very special outfit for her very important speech today, and I've spent all night making sure it is perfect! And look!" Tiertia grabbed the shoulders of the dress and held it aloft. "Perfect!"
"It certainly looks nice," Yona said. "Thank you Tiertia, it looks wonderful." Tiertia's face broke into a wide smile. Yona could see a vein pounding in the woman's forehead. "You must be exhausted."
"Yes I am, madam!" Tiertia said. "Haven't slept in nearly a day! Goodness, it's like forgetting to eat!"
Yona stomach growled, at a volume capable of hearing in distant corners of the room. She felt her face grow hot. "You and I have something in common, I guess!" She looked at the outfit in Tiertia's hands. "It doesn't need any more work?"
"Not a stitch, not a seam, not a cut! You could wear it into the sun from this very shop!"
"Well done, Tiertia," the other woman said. "I'll take that; why don't you lie down for a little while?"
"Wonderful idea!" Tiertia said as she handed the outfit off. "I think I shall!"
She fell forward onto the table the dress had been lying on--scissors bounced--and began to snore. Yona started forward, but the other woman stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "She'll be fine. Tiertia is quite a woman alone."
"So it seems." Yona looked at the other woman, bracing herself. "How much?"
Her stomach continued growling all the way back to the Assembly building. When she got to her floor, she made the turns to go down her hall, wondering what was the best thing she could eat before an important speech, and found a group of men standing outside her door. She stood for a few seconds, then whirled back around the corner, pressing herself against the marble pillar.
"The door is locked, sir."
"She isn't inside?"
"No sir."
"Do any of you know for a fact she actually exists?" Yona frowned. The demanding voice acted as if it was in charge. Likely, it was. "What if it's just a trick? Something to make us show our hand!"
"In such a case, sir, perhaps you should pretend to not know any better."
"Surely I don't know what you mean. I'm just here to see if the rumors about part of Assemblyman Ceylmas' retinue surviving is true. But alas, there is no one here. Back to the office. If there is any truth to the announcement, we should prepare." The man's voice lowered. "Get rid of anything, do you hear me?"
"Yes sir." Yona heard a trio of footsteps start to head her way. Her eyes flew open. Her head twisted and turned, trying to find somewhere she could stuff her body and avoid detection.
Why? Because she didn't have protection yet? Because she was afraid of the man walking toward her? A man who was in the employ of a violent, aggressive nation--one responsible for border skirmishes, armored cavalry pushes, naval quarrels, and terrorist sabotages? What could he do to her?
A few stomach-turning options came to mind. A stab in the back, a pistol to the forehead, a nasty fall down any of the stone staircases in the building, finding herself lying on the tracks as a train bore down on her. These and more.
But people knew. Her father knew, Chell the helpful receptionist next door knew, the building's security knew. Even Ulys and Fainn knew, they more than anybody. If something did happen to her, the finger would land pointing at the man coming down the hall toward her, and for good reason: He would be responsible. And they couldn't do anything to her here, in the hallway, could they? They would never get away. Her head spun; her empty stomach flipped. She stood her ground, running through Ceylmas' rules in her head, and waited until the three men rounded the corner toward her.
They skidded to a halt, finding a short, portly young woman with a garment bag folded over her arm and an odd smile dimpling her cheeks. She jammed her hand forward. "Assemblyman Jhor, how nice to meet you." Jhor, the tall, thin man with heavy eyebrows, had two flanking assistants, though Yona might have called them bodyguards if she was being charitable.
"And who are you?" Jhor asked, ignoring Yona's offered hand. "Get out of my way!"
Should I be so surprised? Yona let her hand drop. "My name is Yona Wairin. Assemblywoman Wairin. The woman who's office you were just trying to break in to." She pressed the garment bag against her body, trying to keep herself steady. "I figured since you so much wanted to meet me, I should introduce myself."
"You're the Assemblywoman? I suppose next they'll be letting my nephew represent a country!" Jhor laughed, as did his bodyguards, a half-second after he started.
"I suppose I am quite young." Yona flipped her hand up as if to say too true, good sir. "But that's what happens when the previous Assemblyman and most of his staff die in a tragic accident." At the last word, Yona's eyes hardened. "I would love to stay and chat, but I have much to do. There's a speech I must work on." She surged ahead, managing to startle them into letting her pass. "I hope you'll attend! It's sure to interest you."
A few seconds later she got to her office, fumbled the key into the lock, slammed the door behind her, and slid to her rump. Once more she wondered if she was about to coat the floor with half-digested tea.
Though it wouldn't be tea, would it? There wasn't much of anything inside her. She would heave and retch until tears blurred her vision, but the tiles under her would remain dry and cold. She had to get something to eat; she hadn't had anything since arriving at the Assembly building. She hadn't even slept.
"Assistant," she said aloud, hoping it would invoke a human being to appear out of thin air in front of her with a tray of sandwiches. "If I make it through this, I'm getting an assistant. And a secretary."
A knock rattled her skull, and she rolled away from the door, flopping onto the floor like a shovelful of snow. She rolled onto her knees and got up, trying to make herself half-presentable.
Her hand stopped on its way to the handle. If she opened the door and found two mealy "bodyguards" waiting on the other side, she would have to find something to defend herself with, and quickly. She breathed in, then out, and pulled the handle down.
"You look like you've seen a spirit," Ulys said. Fainn stood behind him, a box under one arm. "Working hard, I hope. The train station is dead this time of day so we decided to come early."
"Right." Yona hastily brushed her hair back into place. "What's that?" She pointed at the package Fainn had.
"When we got out badges, the security office said they had this ready for you. Fainn."
The younger brother handed it to Yona. "I would have loved this about five minutes ago."
"Why? What's in it?" Ulys asked, entering the office. He found the chair the secretary would have sat in and put his feet up on the desk. "Felt pretty heavy! You got hardware in there or something?"
"No, no, it's just something for self-defense." As Yona turned around the place the package on an empty chair, Ulys and Fainn exchanged exasperated glances. "How did you get in?"
"Front door," Ulys said, spinning in the chair. "How did you get in?"
"No, I mean, they don't just let anybody in, you have to have a reason!"
"Oh, right." He held up a badge, almost identical to hers. In the picture he had a rakish grin. "Fainn and I are your 'assistants.' Just today, of course, and then-"
"Get me something to eat!"
"...What?"
"I haven't eaten anything in more than twenty-four hours! I have to try and prevent a war in less than three hours! I need to eat something!"
"Oh. Oh!" Ulys shot to his feet and looked around, whipping his head back and forth with his arms out to his sides. "Like what?"
"Anything! Anything at all! I will eat anything if you put it in front of me and tell me it's food!"
"Right! Fainn, give her the paper!" Ulys rounded the desk. "Don't worry, Yona, we’ll have something for you right away! Come on, Fainn!"
She had a little more than two hours before her speech. The room was quiet and empty, cool, but not too cold. The ticking clock next to her desk was a calm, hypnotic noise. Her big chair, behind her big desk, swallowed her up, so full of padding it felt like her bed. Her eyes started to droop, and her head bounced forward; her spine lacked the energy to keep it upright.
A little bit of light intruded as she stretched her eyes open. The piece of paper Fainn had handed her was lying under her face, on her big desk. A few words jumped off the page at her, highlighted as if bathed in golden radiance, vibrating, built of staticky sound--she could not ignore them: "Troublesome." "Tracks." "Remove." "Assemblyman." "Simple." "Accident."
Accident.
She slapped the sleep out of her cheeks, and pulled her speech close, mouthing each word as he pen drifted over it, practicing motions and emotions, feeling the blood surge through her. She forgot her exhaustion. Ulys and Fainn returned with hot soup, fresh bread, cheese, a pitcher of tea. After getting confirmation the food was not stolen, Yona ate as she worked, not looking up from her speech.
"Madam Assemblywoman." Ulys said when Yona came out of her office. It was a half-hour before her speech. Her new dress fit her perfectly--despite her mania, Tiertia was gifted with a stitch. "You're going to leave them stunned!" Standing next to Ulys, Fainn was nodded, arms crossed over his chest.
"Thank you." Yona shouldn't have eaten so much. Her stomach roiled. "But the outfit isn't ready yet." She opened her package and took the item out.
"Do you really think you're going to need that?" Ulys asked. "Do you want us to come with you?"
"As much as I'd like someone having my back, you two have your own task. It's as important as mine."
"Right. They won't know what hit them." Ulys watched Yona part a hidden fold in her dress and slip the item into a holster she had put on first. "Good luck to us all, I suppose." Yona smoothed the fold shut, then practiced diving her hand inside it. She smoothed it shut again. "All your work comes down to this."
"Right." Yona continued smoothing the fold shut, over and over. She stood in the center of the entry room, eyes on the blank wall. "Thank you, Ulys, and you Fainn. I couldn't have done this without you."
"You did threaten to have us imprisoned."
"I did, didn't I?" She stood up straight, breathing out and letting her eyes climb up the wall until she was gazing at the peeling ceiling above her. "You'll get a real reward. I'll pay you under the guise of counseling services, I promise."
"How about something else?" Fainn said. Yona jumped--his voice was thin, timid, reedy. "You hire us. As real assistants. Brother and I, we steal to survive. We have to. You won't have to pay us much." He shuffled his feet. "I enjoyed working with you, miss."
"So did I," Ulys said, as his brother fell silent once more. "You need a staff. You nearly killed yourself, and you've only been here for a day. What do you say?"
Yona looked from one brother to the other. "I don't know. The people of Balgarv are going to appoint a real representative; I might not even be here in a month."
"Sure you will. You're going to save the whole country," Ulys said. "Oust the killers of the previous Assemblyman, and bring Yelgiv down. You'll be the most famous Assemblywoman in this whole big building."
"People working for the Assembly have to be citizens of the country they work for."
Ulys shrugged. "Big deal. We're orphans, and more or less homeless. I know Balgarv is a colder place, but a salary from here should give us enough."
Yona nodded. "I...I'll see what I can do. I can't promise, but...I'll try."
"Right. Good." Ulys straightened up. "Fainn, we have a job to do. As do you, madam Assemblywoman."
"You look ready," Assembly head Frederik Polstadt said. "I hope you know what you're getting into."
"I'm already into it, Assemblyman Frederik. I've been into it for a full day now." She smoothed her dress. "Yes, I'm ready." They stood in an antechamber for the grand audience room: A massive area with rising stadium benches and desks full of Assemblymen, Assemblywomen, and a select group of their assistants. There was about five minutes left.
Without another word, Frederik left the room and entered the grand audience room, taking the podium, thanking the previous speaker, and beginning Yona's introduction. The place was abuzz; not a single representative was missing. I could flee. Go back to Balgarv and live with my parents. We could move. No one would ever find us. And then Frederik announced her by name, and she had no choice. She walked down the hall and entered the dizzyingly high, hot, quiet room.
The silence paid attention to her as she rose up the steps into the center of the massive room. The lamps in the ceiling poured heat onto the top of her head and shoulders as she walked to the middle of the raised floor, covered in marble, ebony tiles creating a design of hands clenched in détente. She filled her lungs with air, holding it inside until she reached the podium. She spread her papers out, raising her eyes to over four hundred men and women sitting in rising rings around her, waiting for her to begin.
They rested on Assemblyman Jhor, from Yelgiv.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining me today." Her voice took advantage of the room's careful acoustics. "My name is Yona Wairin, and I have been Balgarv's Assemblywoman for...twenty-six hours. I arrived yesterday, by train, after spending a day taking care of my father, an injured railway worker. I wasn't on the train the previous Assemblyman, Ceylmas Nodiea, and the rest of his staff were on. That is why I have survived, while the Assemblyman, his staff, and everyone else aboard the train perished in a...catastrophic accident."
She paused, and let her breath stream out. She felt like her shoulders were going to bend into a right angle behind her. "Accident." Her eyes scanned the crowd again. She lifted her right hand, and her index finger extended toward the ceiling just as she hit a switch with her left hand. A blown-up picture of the accident appeared on the blank screen hanging on the wall behind her. Everybody in the room had already seen it. "Terrible." She swallowed. "A hundred of my countrymen and countrywomen died in the accident, including Ceylmas, a kind, generous man who allowed me to become a junior under-assistant because he thought I had 'pluck.'"
She hit the switch again, and the picture changed. "What you see here is the reason the accident occurred. You are looking at a zoomed-in image of a section of track, obtained from my father through the rail service. When I said my father was a railway worker, I meant he is the head logistics supervisor for the country, in charge of maintaining every single work crew in Balgarv. He was able to get me this image, and those following. You may notice something interesting." She hit the switch. The image zoomed in. "Now, surely we all see the gap in the rail. How could a gap possibly appear in the rail of such an oft-used track? Quite a hefty section missing, as well. There is no scale, but I'm told the missing section amounts to more than three yards. More than enough to cause an accident." She hit the switch. The picture zoomed in farther. "Here is a picture of the end of the rail, after which is the missing section. Witness the marks, seen at regular intervals. These are telltale marks from a rail-cutting saw."
She had turned away, pointing herself at the suspended images to better point out the details. Now she turned back to the crowd. "Ceylmas' death was no accident! The deaths of over a hundred citizens from Balgarv was purposeful and intended." She smoothed a hand over her dress. "Which leads to this."
She hit the switch, and the crowd gasped. An image showing a pile of burnt bodies, painted in white, gray, and black, covered the wall behind her. "This is from a small border town called Negil. It houses...excuse me, housed...about three hundred people. It is also the town in which former Assemblyman Ceylmas grew up, and the town about which he was coming to make a speech.
"The country of Yelgiv, our neighbor to the north, committed this atrocity." She hit the switch a few more times, showing soldiers, tanks, mounted cavalry, prisoners led in chains, burning homes, smoldering fields, and corpses, corpses, corpses. All the while, Yona stared down Jhor, who was unable to meet her eyes. "The town is part of a border dispute--Yelgiv believed it was within their territory, Balgarv believed it was within theirs. The town decided, some time ago, it was of Balgarv. An escalation of words, actions, and intentions produced this: madness. Chaos. A butchering of bodies and homes our country has never seen.
"My late predecessor came here to draw your attention to this scene! He came here because Yelgiv had burned his home to the ground! He came here because there was a great crime committed, and such a small act may have escaped your notice otherwise! He wanted justice! He wanted action! He wanted the guilty brought before the whole of the world! Instead he, and a hundred others, perished at the hands of saboteurs!"
She placed her shaking hands on either side of the podium, leaning upon it. She took a few breaths. "I...believe Yelgiv is guilty of the murder of Assemblyman Ceylmas."
Sound fired down upon her from all sides. Jhor stood at his desk, roaring and pointing at her, and all around him Assemblymen and women and their assistants were muttering, speaking, shouting over the increasing din. She stood in the center, watching Jhor attack her with words she couldn't hear, until silence fell again. Jhor remained standing, watching her, mouth curled into a toothy grimace.
"It doesn't matter if you believe me or not," Yona said. Her heart felt ready to blast out of her new dress. She smoothed her hand over it. "It doesn't. I know Yelgiv is guilty, and I intend to make my actions swift and immediate!" she howled over the shouts. "I will not rest until Yelgiv, and Assemblyman Jhor, who I believe had prior knowledge of the successful attempt on Assemblyman Ceylmas' life, are punished for these heinous acts!"
Jhor was whipping his head back and forth between his burly assistants, pointing, gesturing to her. A smile grew on her face, topped with eyebrows sharp enough to cut glass. "I invoke the emergency action Silence and Calm, to immediately and without delay freeze and put all holds upon the Yelgiv office, including the Assemblyman himself, every member of his staff, and all documents within the office!"
She glanced to her side and saw members of security racing out of the room, she turned back to Assemblyman Jhor and brought her smile back to life. He had gone whiter than the snowy plains of her country.
The hall containing the Yelgiv office was mad, swirling with security, Assemblymen and women, and members of Jhor's staff, some of whom shot sharp glances at Yona when she appeared. She had Ulys and Fainn with her, both trying to keep from grinning--they had been in this hallway twice before, and once just an hour earlier.
She couldn't enter the office, of course--not only because it was packed with bodies, but because security would never allow her to possibly contaminate the scene she had just designated under investigation.
"Assemblywoman Wairin," Frederik said. "You do understand if no evidence of wrongdoing is found, you will be under severe punishment?"
"I understand, Assembly head," Yona said. "All too much. I am confident. But it doesn't matter, does it? Even if I am punished, I have accomplished Ceylmas' original goal. The Assembly knows of Yelgiv's horrors. What happens to me doesn't matter." Yona sighed. "But I don't think anything will happen to me."
She looked down the hall and spotted Assemblyman Jhor, jabbing his finger into a security officer's chest, waving his hand toward the office other security guards were currently investigating. He turned his head and saw Yona watching him, and she almost looked away. His face purpled, his nostrils flared, and his hands became fists. It looked to Yona like he was straining against chains, keeping him from rushing for her and reaching out to strangle her. A commotion in his office assumed her attention.
A security officer went to his captain, offering a familiar piece of paper. Yona watched the interaction, telling herself over and over not to react to anything she saw.
Jhor should have been repeating the same mantra. "She set me up!" he shouted, from down the hall. "She's responsible for this! I demand you search her office as well!"
The security captain handed the piece of paper to Assembly head Frederik, who scanned it. His jaw set, he handed the piece of paper back, then gestured at Jhor, who had approached and watched as Yona had. "Arrest him."
"No!" Jhor pushed away from the closest security guard, then his eyes landed on Yona. "You'll pay for this!"
He leapt forward, hands outstretched and curled into claws, and then fell, trying to slide to a stop before he got any closer as his expression changed from fury to fear.
Yona bent down, pressing the barrel of her hand cannon against his chest. "I figured I should find something I could use to defend myself, if necessary," she said. The entire hall was silent. "I decided not to put it past you to be just as murderous and under-handed as the country paying your bills." She stood upright and slipped the weapon back inside her dress. "I hope to never see you again, Jhor."
She started making her way back to her office, and word was already spreading. She would give her second of many speeches as Assemblywoman a week later, at the funeral for Ceylmas and all the others lost in the terrorist attack on the train, the honor guard of dozens of countries behind her.
She found her desk and chair had shrunk; they fit her perfectly.