The Twisted Way (Champions of the Crystal Book 3)

Chapter 3.3

With the emergency over, Sabrina returned to her previous list of worries. Her first task as Regent, she knew, had to be getting a substantive grasp of Praxatillus' current situation, along with a crash course in the details of its governmental system. She knew how the Ministries operated, but her idea of the government beyond the central core was practically nonexistent. Sabrina began to wish fervently that this had been a deep-laid plot rather than an improvised bright idea; she could have forgiven the plot if only Mara had arranged to leave her better informed.

Prime Minister Rassir had likely been thinking along the same lines, she realized when she found him waiting for her in her apartments. He gave her a brief bow, scrutinizing her, and she inclined her head in acknowledgment. "Prime Minister," she said. "I'm glad you're here; I was just going to go looking for you."

"I am at your disposal," he said, "and as your time is now as valuable as mine, I suggest that we communicate through the channels set up for that purpose, rather than by random searches through the labyrinth of Dansestari."

"Yes, of course," Sabrina sighed. It was not a good omen, she felt, that his first action was to make her feel like an idiot. I have to earn their respect, Regent or not, of course. I'd be worried if it was any other way. "I will have a lot of adjusting to do, I'm afraid. Do you feel it would be more efficient for you to give me a general briefing, or for each Minister to report in turn?"

"I think," Rassir said, his gray eyes lightening a bit, "that you would end by wishing to strangle me if I subjected you to a parade of Ministers on your first day as Regent."

Sabrina didn't quite smother a grin. "A shrewd assessment, Prime Minister. Please have a seat. Would you like some refreshments before we begin?"

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The briefing lasted until Rayland came in and kindly but firmly insisted that Sabrina eat dinner with him and Scotty. Rassir must have felt that he had given Sabrina enough to absorb for one day, for he acquiesced without protest, bowing to her and Rayland with equal deference on his way out.

"How did it go, my dear?" Rayland asked as they sat down in the dining room to wait for Scotty.

"I think he thinks I'm an idiot," Sabrina sighed. "There's just so much, and my instincts are all based in a different culture. I kept asking questions that made sense from my perspective, but in the split second after I'd spoken them, I knew they sounded like nonsense from his. We're still a ground-based culture, with ground transportation and distribution networks...everything here is done by air transport, it seems. And yet there are some real problems in food distribution, and the infrastructure needs immediate attention. It took me an hour of severe puzzlement before I realized that Rassir and I mean two separate things by 'infrastructure.' In my culture that means roads and waterways and utilities. Here it means solar collectors and information/communications channels and the status of the merchant sub-orbital fleet. All of which are dismal. I just...I never dreamed that a society this advanced could have such basic problems—food production and distribution, and even communicating!"

"The long war has wreaked more havoc than is apparent even to most of us," Rayland said. "And our infrastructure, as you call it, is based on a premise of abundance. Before the Xoentrols crippled our Guardian, we had been prosperous since Miah's time. The war brought on not a gradual regression, but a cataclysmic one, still partly hidden beneath the veneer we have kept up."

"I suppose no society, no matter how advanced, can survive if its arable land and food distribution systems are wrecked," Sabrina sighed, rubbing at her forehead. "It's terrifying. Praxatillus is standing on the brink of its own Dark Ages, unless we can come up with some kind of miracle. From what I can tell, nobody here seems to realize how bad it's gotten."