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Association / Ch. 23: Plans

ASSOCIATION / CH. 23:PLANS

U.N. OFFICES, ASSESSMENT DEPARTMENT, TUESDAY, 30TH, JAN.

“Yes, I am sure that a internal investigation is appropriate.” Vivian said from behind her truthsayer mask.

“Why?”

“Because I was asked to torture.”

“No, Maam, you were not.”

“No?”

“The internationally agreed definition of torture does not include misinforming someone, or misleading someone, or showing someone nasty pictures. If the things you were asked to do left any visible scarring, or physical disability, then we would not have asked you do do them. You were dealing with an acknowledged agent. She's had training in dealing with such things.”

“Not administered mind-to-mind.”

“OK, so it's more effective that way, but that doesn't matter.”

“It would have given her nightmares for weeks if not forever.”

“So what?” he asked callously.

“Pardon?” Vivian let her voice express the shock she felt.

“She's selling out her country, she's lying to everyone who cares for her back home. I don't care if she gets a few extra nightmares. It'd probably do her some good. You can't come in here, hiding behind that silly mask and tell me how to do my job, miss, I'm a professional at this. You have /no idea/ what it takes to crack a spy's persona. She probably just took you in, girl. If your country wants to give a spy a passport that's your business, but there's no need to investigate. Application refused.”

Vivian heard his lies and bravado, along with the decision 'I should have sent her those pictures myself, instead of calling for this do-gooder woman. That would have that little traitor squirm.' She hid her thoughts, not wanting to hear more. He was head of assessment, and obviously a thought-hearer. Vivian was sure it would have helped him in reaching his position..

She feigned resignation.

“I requested a formal investigation about who decided to hire a truth-sayer to play the thought-stealer who tortures victims, but it's obvious that you are that person. So, I suppose my curiosity is satisfied, and since you think such behaviour is entirely reasonable, I'll have to think about another approach.” she turned to go then turned back “Oh, you need to sign a piece of paper to say my application is rejected as unfounded, don't you?”

He grinned at her viciously, and handed it to her with bare fingers, she was pleased to note. “Already done.”

Carefully folding the paper to preserve his finger-prints, Vivian turned to go then said, “By the way, she didn't, 'take me in'. She spoke truth. She reacted with unfeigned terror when she thought I was a counter-agent. She was entirely honest with me during the entire interview, unlike certain people who can't even control their thoughts in-front of another thought-hearer, and who idly gloats over the terror he'd have caused an innocent. So, the question in my mind is, are you an amoral spy catcher who has lost any sense of compassion, or are you actually a thought-stealer, abusing your power for profit and control whenever you can? You have the right to remain silent, but anything you do allow me to hear can be used in a court of law should you ever enter my jurisdiction.”

“I'm no criminal, woman.” he growled.

“That's good. So, why are you encouraging people, nay, commissioning them to torture?”

“We've been here before. Showing people disturbing images is a legitimate interrogation technique, not torture!”

“I see. In other words, when you do it, it's not torture, but if someone did it to your daughter it would be?”

“If my daughter were a professional spy, she'd be used to it.”

“I firmly believe you're wrong about that. I'm not aware of any country preparing thought-hearing agents for that kind of direct, believable attack. The other point I wish to raise is that most truthsayers are not expert interrogators, and the truthsayer vow specifically excludes the use of lies and deception. If I had been more awake when I received your briefing I would have refused it. It is entirely inappropriate to ask a truthsayer to do what you asked me to do.”

“Yes. You're not up to the job.”

“I do wish you'd stop lying to yourself and me. The only people that young woman is deliberately deceiving are the fanatics in her home country. I'm fifty-five percent sure that even her handler knows she's not loyal. Lilly herself doesn't think that, but I've got other sources of information.”

“I wish I was as naïve as you.” he said. Then he processed what she'd said a little more “What do you mean other sources?”

“I don't trust you, and the information you requested is on a need-to-know basis. Good-bye.” Vivian said.

“If you have evidence in this case then I absolutely have a need to know. I don't have the men to spare following her if you've got real evidence that she's not tricked you.”

“Lilly has failed to report her brother's faith since she found out he was a Christian years ago. The Christian who's execution she fabricated and you couldn't find is living in Alaska. One of the fifty-seven has verified that Lilly is a committed Christian. I witnessed her absolute hatred for the regime in her home country. What more do you want? Read my lips, I speak truth. Not unfounded guesses.”

“What do you mean 'the fifty-seven'? Who are they?”

“You might have heard of the fifty-six? You're out of date, God's added another one.”

“Alaska?”

“Yes. I know the name of the town/city/whatever but I don't trust you with that much information.”

“You've spoken to him?” he asked.

“Not personally. Unsurprisingly he's a little wary of talking to strangers about his past. I can get a message to a member the church he's part of if you really need it.”

“I need it.”

“Why?”

“Proof! Evidence, required paperwork. I can't close the file otherwise.”

Vivian considered. “OK. What's the message?”

“You know too much to be the delivery agent.”

She smiled. “Consider what you're asking. You want me to tell you who to give a message to, but you don't trust me to be involved in it's delivery. A little circular, isn't it?”

He had the honesty to look uncomfortable. “I've got to trust someone a bit. But you're on Lilly's side, and you know her side of it. That pollutes the evidence.”

“Hmm. But I certainly don't trust you to give you access to my sources. So, do you trust the man I handed my assessment to?”

“He's a good worker.” he nodded.

“I tend to agree. You come up with the question, I'll tell him who to call to deliver the message to someone else. Don't bother trying to get him to think of who he called. He's just going to get a phone number.”

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MINISTRY FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS, WEDNESDAY 31ST JAN

“How much lee-way do you actually have in negotiations, Mr Ambassador?” the minister for foreign affairs asked, as soon as he'd entered. It was characteristically blunt, but still, the ambassador for the Beautiful Peninsula winced inwardly, and he appreciated Ralph Trinket's look of dismay at his minister's approach; it was too soon to ask such questions.

The ambassador tried not to react badly. “I have a free hand over all matters of provisional planning, minister. But nothing I agree to will be final until the Great Leader agrees.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Oh, I understand. But I presume you have certain parameters that would make such agreement unlikely.”

“Of course. But I think my superior and I have reassured the Great Leader that talks could be advantageous. Although I cannot promise anything until it is confirmed. Actually, with politics being what it is I cannot promise anything even when it is confirmed. Nothing is final until it happens.”

“Your ruler is noted for his spontaneity.” Ralph commented.

“Spoken as a true diplomat, Mr Trinket.” the ambassador acknowledged, thinking that total unpredictability might be a more accurate description.

“Would you like to lead the way into the discussion, then Mr Ambassador?” the minister asked, keen to press on to the meat of the agenda.

This minister was acting as though he was new to his job: too keen, too rushed. What was eating the man? Had he personally suggested this meeting? The ambassador's sources had suggested otherwise. It was most odd, the ambassador pondered. Was he due somewhere else soon?

“Obviously, the question of when and where should figure in our discussion. However, I think there are a few... shall we say, concerns that we should probably address first. Our great leader is not entirely convinced of the good intentions of any nation which might offer a meeting place. The noises coming out of the United Nations are not encouraging. He obviously has no desire to step into a trap.” Seeing the minister draw in his breath in indignation he quickly added “Not from their majesties, of course, but perhaps others? Perhaps the host nation might see it as scoring some points with powerful interests, and would look the other way as some U.N force move against the Great Leader? Stranger things have happened.”

“The suggestion was that the host country should be an ally of yours.”

“Ah well, allies and allegiances... The rulers of small nations, sometimes they feel the pressure of international focus a little differently than we might hope.”

“Sorry, Mr Ambassador, I have a bad tooth and the both the pain and the medication are affecting my ability to think clearly.” the minister said. “Am I right in understanding you to say that you don't actually trust your allies?”

“I sorrow for your pain, minister.” Pain, yes, that might explain it. He obviously wanted the meeting to be over. “Please allow me to simply state that finding an ally you can put your trust in for every circumstance is not a very common occurrence. And at the moment...” he shrugged. At the moment there had been angry messages from each and every ally, asking why they'd thought to start a world war without any warning to them. The Great Leader wouldn't trust any of them them not to be angry enough to make a deal with another country.

“So, your government are happy to accept the idea of a meeting, but you can't actually name a location?”

“Let us say, rather, that my Great Leader would like some guarantees. Principally, I expect that he'd like to return home without anything untoward happening.”

“I'm fairly sure their majesties can not guarantee that when the meeting occurs on someone else's sovereign territory.” Ralph pointed out, after the minister looked at him for help.

“That was our conclusion, also,” the ambassador agreed. “Which leaves us with just two locations, doesn't it? But hosting a state visit is an expense our poor nation can ill-afford. I have stated to the Great Leader that the King's word is entirely trustworthy, and the Great Leader's primary consort has often expressed her desire to travel more.”

“I will discuss this with their majesties, Mr Ambassador, but I expect they will agree to your leader coming here.” The minister paused, “You mentioned a state visit.... ahh, I'm sorry.” he shook his head, and clutched at his face. “I must see my dentist really soon. Ralph, please?”

“I think what the minister wanted to ask was whether the, ah, level of formality of a state visit was necessary? Their majesties were interested in a meeting that would be easy to arrange, and would cover real issues, not one that would look good for the media.”

“I think we can negotiate, Minister. An informal state visit is still a state visit. The most important point, really is genuine protection, publicly promised by your monarch. Now, I think that perhaps you'd like to cut short this meeting, and see what your dentist says?”

“I think I'd better, I'm sorry.”

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I.H.M. 5PM, WED. 31ST JAN.

The installation engineer handed Kate the test certificates. “Well, Maam, the generator is functioning normally, it's live, it reacts well to changes in loads and the automatic full systems check will take another thirty six hours or so. We'll be back on Friday to make sure the results all look good, if that's all right?”

“Very. Thank you very much.”

“Should anything seem out of the ordinary, feel free to call us, any time of day.”

“Have no fear, I will.” Kate said.

“Everyone says that. It must be the thought of molten salts spraying across their facility like a private volcano that does it.”

“Yes, probably. Is that just film industry, or might it really happen?”

“Film industry's special effects, Maam. I mean, yes it's hot, yes it's dangerous, but it's not white hot, or even orange, like they like to show in the films and it's not under much pressure either. It doesn't need to be, see.”

“That's reassuring.”

“Thought it might be. But on the other hand, if it does start leaking then your reactor would shut down pretty quickly, and you'd loose power. I'm sure you don't want that to happen.”

“No. Does it happen often?” she asked curiously.

“No, Maam. We try do it properly the first time. That's called professional pride.”

“Good for you.” Kate agreed.

“I've spoken to some of your staff members about your urm... cooling circuit. I understand you intend to pipe heat to your neighbours eventually?”

“Yes.”

“Good. But even then...” he shook his head “you're not going to dump much heat during the summer months.”

“I know. We are only thinking of short term loads, not long term.”

“Fair enough, just thought I ought to mention it. We can offer some cooling solutions, if you'd be interested.”

“Thank you, maybe after we've seen how well the experimental forcefields protect us against the impact.”

“Of course, Maam.”

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EMBASSY, NEAR U.N.H.Q. 6PM, WED 31ST JAN.

Maggie Right happened to look out of the window to see Vivian speaking to the embassy guard, and leaving. Calling the guard-post, she asked.

“The young woman who's just left...”

“Yes, Maam, she left a message for you.”

“Oh, she didn't ask to enter?”

“No, Maam, just delivered a message.”

“Well, out with it? What did she say?”

“I can't leave my post, Maam, my colleague's escorting another visitor.”

“Oh, she left a crystal?”

“A piece of paper, Maam. It's actually sealed with wax.”

“How very unusual.”

“My thoughts exactly, Maam.”

“I'll come and get it.”

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Maggie read the note. It wasn't long.

“Dear Maggie, the other day you asked a question. Wear gloves. The reply is: not as such; a patriot with very low morals.” Not a thought-stealer, she guessed the answer meant, but she should be wearing gloves. There was someone listening in to other's thoughts. Someone who was doing it for their country, not for personal gain. It was a subtle but important difference, Maggie knew. So, why the wax-sealed envelope? Why had Vivian sent that? Maggie looked again at the seal, and realised there was a second piece of paper within the wax. Curiouser and curiouser!

She took the paper into the embassy, and to her study.

Was this some kind of clue? Why was Vivian leaving clues, rather than just telling her things? So... was 'wear gloves' talking about the thought-hearing spy, or what was in the wax?

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I.H.M.

“Hello, Institute for the Human Mind. How can I help you?” Sarah answered the phone.

Regan, assessor grade four, hadn't known he'd be talking to the Institute. “Hello, I'm calling from the United Nations, I have a message to send, and I'm told I need to send it via a rich Christian with initial S. I err, don't know if that person is staff or a client.”

“That's OK, I'll see the message gets through.”

“Thank-you, Ms. Sorry, I mean Maam. The message is for an assistant-pastor in Alaska — Anchorage to be precise — who knows an employee of that person.”

“Do you know this employee's name?” Sarah asked, curiously.

“No, sorry, nor the name the assistant-pastor is using, either.”

“Let's hope it doesn't matter.” Sarah said.

“The message is: 'Someone tells me you owe a lot to a flower and a pig in a sack. If that's true, please contact me.'”

“That's a little cryptic.” Sarah said.

“I think that's the intention.”

“When you say 'contact me.' that means they should send a message to you directly, at the number you're calling from?”

“Yes. Well, it should probably be via an intermediary. There'll need to be a little bit of dialogue.”

“But you don't know who the message is for?”

“I don't know the name he's using now.”

“I'd be a bit suspicious if I heard my pastor was lying about his name,” Sarah pointed out.

“I'm sorry. Urm, I'm permitted to say that he's got very good reasons for it - there are people who think he shouldn't profess his faith. Also, we're just confirming the truth of that story, it would let us leave someone else alone. We're not interested in him at all.”

“I see. So, you wouldn't mind if I called you back, as long as I had the pastor on another line?”

“Not at all, Maam. Or even if you had someone the pastor trusts on the other line.”

“Did you say which branch of the United Nations you're in?” Sarah asked.

“I'm in what we call assessment, Maam. We mainly assess risks, in this case, we'd like to decide that someone isn't one.”

“Oh, OK. May I pass that on?”

“Yes, Maam. If you can get the pastor on line, then please call me any time, night or day.”

“I'll take you at your word on that.”

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EMBASSY, NEAR U.N.H.Q.

“You're certain of the fingerprint match?” Maggie asked her assistant.

“Absolutely, Maam.”

“That is a very interesting result.” Maggie mused.

“Can I ask why, maam? Why would someone send us a fingerprint of the U.N.'s head of assessment? Was there more than scrap of paper on the wax?” the assistant asked.

“What would your guess be, Jane?”

“I'd guess the wax was stuck to something, which had more information.”

“It was. It was a note concerning thought-stealers. It informed me that there are none at the United Nations, but there is a 'patriot' with low morals. So, there is an implied link, but it it not a clear statement, which is just as well, since a clear statement would be violating the privacy of the head of assessment. And while we don't know, gloves would be very appropriate if you're discussing anything with him.”

“Oh. Oh wow. So I might have been the source of the leak?”

“Not entirely. I can't think why the U.N.'s head of assessment would have passed on everything. But... advice I got from someone who knows: don't make decisions around him. Play with ideas, weigh pros and cons, but don't actually decide. If you decide not to tell a thought-hearer something, apparently they hear it. If you have to decide, then make sure you're thinking of 'item three' and that sort of thing, not the actual information. Thought-hearing is not magic — if you don't think it then they don't hear it. Wear gloves, and watch out for any metal surfaces.”

“I wish there could be some kind of training for this!” Jane moaned.

“There can be. Interested?”

“Very!”

“Good. Your name's already third on the list along-side mine and my husband's.”