Nobody's Servant, Act 1

Into The Archives

Go ahead and call me a fool, you'd be well within your right to, but we're still doing it.

Kyra was smarter than to agree to it, of course. Let's get you up to speed, actually.

Three days ago I said something like "Hey Kyra, wanna help me steal something?"

And she said something like "Fuck yeah, property is for theft, what are we stealing?"

So I told her "Oh, you know, just some ultra-classified documents right out of Warden Oleander's own personal archive," and that killed basically all her enthusiasm right then and there.

It should have killed mine, and yet, here I am, staring out at that imposing tower on the far side of the canal, its offshoots and challenges to the assumption of what one is meant to be able to do with concrete casting an odd shadow. It stretches out onto the surface of the dearsenated water standing between it and myself, as the rippling, liquid fake sun reflects from behind it, dull, scabby violet-red, and gentle on the eyes. Paliputra doesn't tilt on its axis enough to have actual seasons, but the sun will dim and brighten on a rough schedule, which at least emulates seasonal affective disorder if nothing else. I can't help but take it as ominous but I know it's just my nerves.

But for Lurrah's sake, I tell you I'm right to be this nervous. Getting past the front door is easy, provided you take no issue with the surveillance inside continuing to follow you out for a week or more after your visit. It's basically a museum trip, if most museums had several office floors of background-checkers looking up the historical prevalence of your assprint as soon as the pressure sensors in all their cushioned benches bring it to their attention. Don't think you can get out of it by standing either, they will find a way to record your presence; you're an exhibit too, but studying you like one takes credentials most of the public doesn't have.

I don't know how long it is that I spend staring out, more so in the general direction of the tower than directly at it, before a hand laid on my shoulder snaps me out of it. It's Nym, of course, unbothered by having to reach so far up to do it but at least my slouching against the low, crenelated wall makes it a little easier. At one of the low points in it, he mimics my posture, looking out, made inconspicuous by his change in attire.

He's got the look of an auditor, clipboard and all, with a sharply fitted burgundy robe and oxidized copper regalia to match.

"You came prepared for the worst, I see," I say, trying to maintain some levity. "Don't you think your face is a little recognizable though?"

"Of course it is, but one person can wear many hats as they say, and this is a hat I've actually worn before, so to speak," he reasons. "They won't question me so much as long as we stay in the areas they expect me to stay in. That's why we've saved the face cover for you."

He hefts the bag in his other hand, flipping the cover open to briefly show me the headgear resting on top of a similar outfit. An elongated thing of wicker and brass, as if once a perfect circle, now creased down the middle at a sharp angle and pinched at the back to secure a large, reflective lens at the front with a few smaller ones placed irregularly about it. A generously proportioned, opaque veil helps obscure the rest of the wearer's features.

"As long as we don't let them look under that," he continues, "and you don't let them sample any of your very recognizable materials— you know, fur, saliva, don't even use the restrooms honestly —they'll believe you're whoever I say you are, and then we can figure out how to send you off to snoop on your own while I keep up appearances."

My ears droop. "...You mean you haven't figured it out in advance, and you're not coming with me?"

He chuckles. "More like we're spoiled for choices. I've identified a few comfortable routes on my last visit, you know, the one I told them I'd have to come back with someone with keener eyes for? After that I'll find a way to join you. Probably. But you know what to look for anyway, right?"