We passed through the open courtyard in silence. The sun beat down on the backs of our necks as a light breeze blew throughout the city. The screams that had once echoed into the sky had come to a halt – everybody must’ve locked themselves in their houses by then.
As we exited the courtyard and began to head down the street, I caught a glimpse of bright red fabric. Once I fixated my eyes on the end of the road, I could see the Empress, a service bot trailing behind her. Her brown hair was braided and wrapped into a coil on top of her head. She held what appeared to be an umbrella equipped with a golden fan powered by clockworks.
She looked at Ellie’s solemn face and guessed, “You saw?” Her voice didn’t sound sympathetic. Come to think of it, it was completely devoid of any emotion.
Knowing Ellie had a particular dislike for this ten year old girl, she turned her gaze over to the side.
Not wanting to appear rude, I decided to speak for her. “We did,” I sighed. “He was obviously killed.”
The Empress frowned. “I was told he killed himself . . .”
I shook my head. “The other patroller explained how that wasn’t true. I believe him, too. Recaro had no reason to commit suicide.”
The Empress nodded thoughtfully. “Which patroller said this?”
I held back, realizing that I had said something that she wasn’t fond of. The last thing I wanted was to cause another nullification ceremony. “I . . . I don’t know.”
The Empress shook her head and smiled sweetly. “All patrollers have some sort of hallmark. It’s distinctive in their appearance. Now, with that said, tell me which patroller informed you of this.”
I sighed. I knew exactly what this patroller’s hallmark was. “He had long, spiky black hair,” I explained.
I looked at Ellie, who had given me a look full of worry.
The Empress, on the other hand, gave me another grin and said, “Thanks Darrel.”
She sounded way too cheerful, given the grim situation that had just occurred.
Walking off towards Recaro’s old house, she called over her shoulder, “Don’t forget, the Tascaque will be held in two hours!”
I stared at her in surprise. “Two hours?!” My voice rose out of rage. “Even after what happened last night?!”
Ellie grabbed my hand. “Don’t . . .”
“How can you possibly hold a ceremony when someone has just been murdered!” I continued.
The Empress stopped in her tracks, though her expression remained unchanged. “Don’t worry, Darrel. We’ll still give Recaro a proper funeral. But after that, the Tascaque will be held.” She looked at me and assumed that I was giving her a puzzled look. “In case you’re wondering, all the other citizens have been informed of this. I held an announcement while the two of you were gone, telling everybody to calm down and what not.”
I could remember the Empress’s high voice that projected through the rigged speakers throughout the city right after we arrived. We had apparently missed a huge chunk of the announcement. “And, by the way,” she continued, “I am well aware that everyone is camping out in their homes. I made sure to tell everyone that their presence will be mandatory.” And at that, she spun her head around and continued to walk down the street. Her service bot emitted a clanking noise, spewed a cloud of steam, and rolled behind the Empress on its bicycle wheel.
Damn, Ellie was right, I thought. She’s really obsessed with Tascaques.
