The Orbs of Tala

06 | Do You Have Something to Hide?

When she was finally done, Isla felt as though she had traveled miles on foot. Every single one of them had concerns tucked somewhere in every bloody door.

One, however, was so loud that she could not concentrate. His mind echoed loudly, forcing Isla to draw back and glare at Al. He pestered her with questions. Why was she here? Was she banished from the family? Was she here to dissolve their department? What happened to the western office? How did their Booth get broken? Could it be fixed? What time would this end? Oh, he felt tingly. Was it because she was in his mind?

Isla stumbled back and scowled at Al. "Now, I understand Fran," she growled under her breath.

Al blinked. "Understand Fran?"

Fran stiffened, afraid Isla would tell Al of her ultimate dream that concerned him.

Isla smiled. "I can't tell. I don't reveal anything I see in your thoughts unless I find the need to. And that's what I also expect from everyone I'm working with." Isla lifted her hand and Cris dutifully handed her a black folder. "You all heard about what happened with the western office. Their Booth is currently getting fixed, which means that all other offices should expect more clients. I'm here to improve the performance of this office. But while I'm here, I want everyone to grace a contract."

"Grace a contract?" Al asked, gulping, looking at the folder.

"Of confidentiality."

The five Opulents frowned.

"Reviewing everyone's file, it seems that all previous managers have neglected to let every staff grace a confidentiality contract whereas all matters concerning the department could not, in any way or form, be repeated to anyone else in any manner—written, oral, or mental. Such as the likes of a novel or any form of storytelling, gossipmongering among them," she added the last words with her eyes on Al.

"We don't speak about our work to anyone—"

"I know, Das," she answered the priest, realizing just now that the man was wearing a priest's collar around his neck, tucked under the collar of his white shirt. He could put on a robe and they would all be in a bloody mass. "But Opulent security is a concern that all other previous managers ought to have thought about. With the delicate information this department handles, you should be the first to grace nondisclosure agreement. We cannot have anyone start spewing secrets to enemies, can we?"

Esha gulped. "Enemies? But we only work on—"

"The Department of Lost Things was created not to find a goddess' missing trident, Esha. It was created, first and foremost, to investigate memories and provide assistance to all other Opulent departments. But it seems that it had strayed away from its mission. The Department of Lost Things started to focus on collecting payments rather than actually using them to their advantage." She smiled at Zaara. "And yes, Zaara, to answer your question, the Office of the Emperor rarely considers your help for this reason. You may have a bank of memories, but all of them are useless because, yes, Al, your clients have been paying you short."

"But if we do not accept their terms—"

"Then we do not offer our services."

"Then we do not receive payment!"

"They pay us with their memories," Isla said, voice stern and cold. "That is what we are after. Not them or whatever they have lost. We want their memories because we want to use them against them or someone else if we need to. We need their memories to improve our research, our weapons—everything. We use their memories because they are leverage. If you let them give you a day or three of their memory for their missing underwear, then you are not doing your job."