I'm startled awake by the regretful ringing of a midnight call. One of the Watchers from Fauxpool called in a red flag to the Lowland office. The Lead Inspector there, I don’t know the name yet only that he’s new, immediately escalated the call to me. I listen to the whole message but I could have stopped at “Lowlands” and known I had to get my boots on. When I get a call in the small hours it’s always in the Lowlands and requires an In-Person trip, or as I'm supposed to call them, a Crisis Intervention. I’m hardly awake, but as I said, I only needed to hear where I’m going. I brace myself for it the same no matter which House it is this time. The call was for House Dion, which means it’s 50/50 odds that I’ll be seeing Paul or Rose this time. I do hope it’s Rose, I’d like an easier night.
There’s only one good thing about these late-night calls, and it’s an exquisite one. The under-rails are completely empty but for me and whoever is steering this iron worm. Daytime I find the under-rail more unbearable than the much-maligned standard rails. At least up there, though it may be sticky and stinking of the mysterious puddles hardening in the seats, everyone minds their own business. They almost avoid each other for sport. But on the exclusive under-rail, we may as well be a moving meet-and-greet party for us drab cogs of the State. I shouldn’t say that though, I’m a pretty important cog, so I’m approved for after-hours access to the under-rail. I wonder if there are others, or if this conductor drifts from post to post alone. Maybe he enjoys some mischief within the privacy of his cabin, it’s all the same to him anyway, passengers or not. I’ve wondered if he enjoys the emptiness as I do. Clearly, I’ve thought too much about it. The funny part is I don’t even know if there is a conductor, or if all the faith has been placed in some sturdy computer.
I refresh myself on the details of the call once I’m in the railcar. A closed-door Incident that became external after an estimated time-lapse of 10 moments. How informative. I don’t even mean that sarcastically, some of these Houses really do follow a pattern of outbreak. The last time I had to do an In-Person visit for House Dion was when Rose, the matriarch, had slept through her scheduled interview with the Directory for the third time.
Once I step off in Fauxpool the Lowland Lead Inspector, his name is Rory apparently, whisks me to the familiar wreck of House Dion in the standard-issue town car. He’s new though, so his car is a little newer and it’s a nice ride. We don’t talk much, he’s reiterating the flag report and I wish he wouldn’t because it’s just muddying things. When we get to the estate I head to the call box.
Rose answered immediately. I’d already had my skeleton out assuming the call would be ignored, or assuming they had disabled it again. Rose was obviously drunk or otherwise whacked out of her mind.
“What? What do you want, who the fuck are you, what the fuck yada yada yada."
“Hey Rose, it’s me. You want to come out and talk?”
“Just you.” She says through her teeth.
She meets me on her porch. She stood there with her small fists clenched at the sides, her battle pose. It’s almost cute if you remove it from the fact that it’s Rose doing it. There’s one silver lining to late-night train rides, and there’s one silver lining with dealing with House Dion. That is, Rose is an absolute faucet and will work herself up too much to be capable of withholding anything. She will air every single current grievance of her life on me once she gets going.
I only deal with red-level cases; all the flags, reports, files, and inspections. The red cases must be investigated and contained, as in kept confidential from anyone outside of the Directory. I deal with them all and all their subjects lie, except for Rose. I don’t think she has it in her even when she’s in a good mood. Rose is very loudly asking me what she can do about Paul, her husband and patriarch of House Dion. Paul had abandoned their sons downtown and disappeared. Then he came by the estate a day later to pick up a jacket before disappearing again. I could write a book on Paul alone, but I’d need a much quieter life and a lot more time. The House of Dion used to be one of the most powerful of the Old Families before they got butchered in the reforms. This has injected the House with something I can only consider outraged entitlement.
Tonight, Rose is screaming about getting Paul barred from the estate and kept away from the children. And she wants me to make it come true first thing in the morning. She catches her breath and looks at me, maybe for the first time. “For the boys' sake,” she says in a much softened tone. Her lip may have even trembled, or it could have been the wine stains. She has said and requested similar things before, always “for the children’s sake,”. In truth, this is all about getting attention from Paul, even if it’s negative attention.
Being the “red level guy”, I also have to receive every ridiculous tip and scrap of gossip that involves a member of the Old Family System. I’d recently received a tip that Paul had been staying over with a twenty-year-old from Roark. I have more like it in the House Dion case file.
“I followed him,” Rose says to whatever she's staring off at.
“Yourself?” I said. I'd be shocked if she did.
“I hired someone, took all the money I had too. But I heard him making a call to her myself. I picked up the emergency line in the cellar.”
“And Paul was speaking to another woman?”
“He always is.”
“Was the conversation inappropriate?”
“Are you going to help me if I tell you it was? How come anyone else could get out of a marriage for this, but because my parents were somebodies and you all decided to marry me to that…those bitches from Roark open their stupid stores after they ditch their husbands and everyone throws their money at them and makes them famous.” Rose is getting worked up past the point of use now, but this is what I meant when I said she was a faucet. She tells you everything whether you ask or not. Sure, she’s upset about Paul, but really she thinks all the tabloid rags are airing all sorts of Old Family problems this week, and maybe she will be able to get a mention or two and she'll get to feel relevant again.
I remain in my listening posture as she burns off the last of her tirade. I tell her I’ll start working on it and smile. She smiles back, like a calm child. If she wasn’t towering over me from her porch I may have even dared a reassuring graze of the shoulder. I ask her if there was anything more but she was already pacified.
On the drive back to the under-rail station, I tell the Lead to put in a report of her request to restrict Paul from the estate.
“They won’t approve it,” he almost laughs.
“I know, but they’ll have to come out here to deliver the denial and I want them to come to sort this shit once in a while. They deserve to see what it's like to try to control ridiculous people. It may keep their demands in check, and it’ll make them treat you better. If nothing else, you'll get fewer memos."
“I wouldn’t have thought they gave you shit too.”
“Why not? That’s what they do. Have you ever wanted to do a job like that, or does it repel you? It’s certain personalities that enjoy that kind of work, and they’re all the kind that are never happy with anything until it’s wrangled in legislation.”
Updates…
I wanted to add something to this file. Something I want to have a note of this in case it’s handy in the future. The Lowland Lead Watch wrote the report for the case we went to together. The proper clerks were sent to House Dion, then they surprised me at my office. I’m always very detailed in my reports, but apparently I need to be more observant of the behavioral state of my cases because that was their only concern.
“I did state that she could have been inebriated, but she was also very emotional so it’s difficult to tell the extent. I saw no evidence of substances on or around her.”
“Did you search?”
“In what way? She responded at the call box. She met me on the porch. There were no contents on the porch to search and I didn’t see cause to frisk her.”
“Why didn’t you suggest speaking inside?”
“Because most of the time, the moment that I make such a suggestion they reject the request and clam up. That makes resolving these cases a lot more difficult.”
The two bureaucrats did not seem interested in actually listening to what I said. How could they blame people for hating them?
“We need clarification on her behavior. She does not have a psychological profile that marks any high-risk factors. Much of this report points to the actions known to be common among narcotics abusers.”
“Narcotics abuse specifically? She seemed drunk if I must guess."
“It is her behavior that argues narcotics.”
“Over energetic, that one, too high of energy for her circumstances.”
I almost jumped when this one spoke. A small man with a face plain as the moon, some greasy hair wiped on top of it. I’d forgotten he was even here with that brick of a woman. I ask them for specific detail, a back-bite but they wouldn’t notice something as subtle. The little man pulls out a ream and nearly falls off his chair to hand it to me over the distance of my desk. Of course, he's a Witness, no wonder I forgot about him. Human fly on the wall.
> RD: Rejects official denial of Restriction order for PAUL DION; HEAD - HOUSE DION; SPOUSE. Demands Petition of Severance for the Court of Estates.
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> Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
>
> DIR REP SHOSA: Informs RD of conditions for denial in the case by the C of E.
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> RD: Rejects DIR REP statement, repeats requests for Petition of Severance. Adds that she intends to visit the C of E every morning to inquire of the Petition and will re-file if needed, indefinitely.
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> DIR REP SHOSA: Informs RD of the cost of a single Petition of Severance and the success rates of the Petition.
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> RD: Non-verbal response---[Shoulder shrugging].
I hate the way the Directory does transcription. They think this is somehow neutral. They make these and then have someone like Shosa the Brick here testify to their elaboration. They mean what the Directory wants them to do when they need them. “Anything more on the severance requests?” I ask.
“It is similar to the contents of the Restriction request. She seeks possession of the children and the estate.” Miss Directory Representative Shosa informs me.
“Did you see the children when you were there?”
“We did not. Madame Dion reported that they were visiting a neighbor so as not to disrupt our meeting.”
“I did not see them on my visit either. I doubt they are missing, but I also doubt that she truly views Paul as a threat to their safety. Though I have no evidence of that. The estate is a wreck and there are no other properties held by House Dion. If her severance is granted, it will indenture Paul to her even after the children are adults. Her odds of rejection are not a guarantee if she makes the initial request and with her being the mother, juries under the old system and our new one are sympathetic to these things."
“We will make note of your theory. What of the narcotics abuse?”
Every time. I give everything to them and they still look for another form to fill out. I know that Rose was wasted when I saw her, from a mixture of somethings no doubt. But I can’t prove it, and I don’t really want to. The Directory approaches these cases like a machine that needs a part swapped out. I sleep little in my life because of my cases, but at least I view them as human. I empathize with the fact that the Directory made their lives shittier than it was before. After all, my life was shitty before the Directory.
I give them their stupid answer. “I can only say that I suspected, but had not seen physical evidence of it.”
They made some notes and took their little roll with them when they left. I need to sleep this meeting off. Because when I wake up I have to go on my surveillance assignment at the infamous Cremorne.