章節 47: At The Mouth Of The Den
Upon entering the greeting chambers, powerful voices and variety-filled dialogues besieged them, bouncing across the length of the space. Spread around the entrance and disappearing around the ends on both sides, the initial experience retained cramping and packing tight.
Fortunately, they weren't the last people to arrive, and those further inside were conscious enough of the fact to continue moving inward. This was how the Prime Beacon found himself guiding Pa-5 with a hand on her harness through one small gathering after another, polite, yet firm.
Someone in her condition was rare, so Pa-5 attracted quite the collection of gazes about her figure. He knew the majority focused on her lack of limbs or odd floating position; there was an extra minority that sought to catch glimpses of her not because of what she went through, but because of who she was next to. He cared more for those gazes.
He traced some of them back to their source. The Fourth and Seventh Headmen were together, scowling at him with identical faces. Their visages lined with vehemence and age, an unhealthy combination to keep in mutual company for long periods.In-3 was speaking into a communicator, waving his arms around in a corner by himself, though he would no doubt join one of the small gatherings as soon as he finished.
He looked back, studying Pa-5. Already, she had a sheen of sweat across her face, pronounced deeper by the lighting above. Affairs here were either too noisy or crowded for her, so he sped up, turning around and pushing until they escaped the immediate wall of bodies. Beyond them, it was quieter, with fewer echoes traveling one way and back the other along the ringed infrastructure's interior. He heard a relieved sigh from her.
"Boring man!" Hearing the exhalation ahead of him and the sharp intake of breath behind him, the startling tension that pressed his fist, wrapped around one of the harness' straps, down, he wanted to twist and yell at Eighth Headman to close her mouth until they were closer. His mouth opened, then closed, and he grunted while pulling Pa-5 all the quicker. It seemed the militarists had already anticipated Pa-5's situation and found a cluster of seating to discuss at while they waited for him far from the entrance.
"Boring man," came the affectionate greeting a second time, "are you so bored with your life that you prefer to come late now? Have you gone so low?"
He placed her outside his consideration, leading Pa-5 to one of the free seats and letting her lower herself into it before greeting the others. He shook hands with the Sixth Headman, exchanged wary smiles with the Ninth, and tipped his head at the Third.
The fact that together, they were a majority bloc within the Directory's governance, should have brought him comfort; none appeared, and worse yet, an additional person was inflating their numbers. Once again, an uninvited guest. "Why is she here? No, I've got a better one: why are you still letting her sleep in your lap?"
The uninvited guest was of course Ch-4, curled up in the middle of Eighth Headman's legs with her head buried out of sight under her neck. The older woman shrugged. "I'm very comfortable. Have you tried stealing some sleep on me before? You'd become a less boring man, I'm sure."
"I'm sure. But I'll have to decline; my bed fulfills that role well enough," he said, dry with any humor he might've found another day. Sitting up, he spread his arms. "How do matters seem for us?" This time, he didn't bother with checking to see if Ch-4 was faking her sleep, choosing to assume she was. On meet days, aides from both sides intermingled and listened in on every gathering before everyone entered the central chamber anyway. He'd already spotted a few lingering nearby, pretending to skim data on their screens or share sparse conversation.
"They could be better." To his surprise, it was the Sixth's who spoke up first, glaring at Ch-4's prone body while he did so. "Although you spared my ray from the energy budget reduction, the Second still moved against us. We lost priority access to the energy network almost as soon as the other day's meet concluded. Our timeline wasn't affected enough to cause worry on our end, but," and he looked at the Prime Beacon with a grave face, "the rise of delays is inevitable."
"I see. What about the rest of you?" He addressed the ensemble around him. "Has the home interest taken hostile action?"
He grew grim as the others shared their news. The Seventh accosted the Third and Ninth, using the pretense of wanting to secure further resources for adolescent information distribution to streamline those processes. The Eighth held a brief dispute with the Fifth over the deconstruction of some of their districts' infrastructure. As for his ray, the status quo was stagnant; the home interest antagonized his people so often that they had taken to considering them a second enemy in the hierarchy following Aud.
While he was deep in thought, Eighth Headman leaned forward and rapped her knuckles against the low round table. "Why are we discussing this? Didn't we know they were going to be sore over their loss? They're going to be as petty today." She turned to Pa-5. "Sorry. We'll be sure to assist you down there in any way we can."
She then looked down at Ch-4, prodding her. "My legs are tingly."
"Mhm…"
"I'm serious. I can't feel my toes."
"...five more minutes?" The words remained void of clarity, spoken into Eighth Headman's neck.
She snorted. "You're lazier than a rock. One of those can at least prop my door open."
Ch-4 peered up at her. "...sorry."
"That's alright, I'd--"
"You told me to work on my balance, remember? When you start talking, I stop listening." Her head vanished back whence it came, leaving Eighth Headman in silence. The Prime Beacon looked on in pity. He knew, with everything in him, that to exchange blows using wit was the worst form of combat to undertake against Ch-4.
"Excuse me, sir, what happened to your nose?" Pa-5's interest left the far ceiling when she noticed a patch stretching across the bridge of the Second Headman's nose. The sight of a headman with an injury was rare, rare enough that she pulled her tumbling thoughts long enough to voice her curiosity.
"Oh, you're here." The words remained muffled. "You hit me."
"...what?" For the first time since he saw her back, she displayed full emotion. Mortification stretched her features wide, crushing lines into her brow in a pattern reminding him of his own. "I never--"
"You don't remember, but you did."
Now all the headmen aside from Ch-4 beheld Pa-5 with kind, pitying eyes. She swallowed, loud, audible over the distant echoes. "I…I hit a headman? Da--" She cut herself off, swallowing a second time. "Will I…receive a demotion?"
"Pfft." All eyes turned to him. A second later, Eighth Headman muffled a similar noise, and they turned to her.
"What's funny?"
"You're about to enter a meet that could end your career and prospects, and you're concerned about a demotion?"
Pa-5 frowned, her facial muscles slow to shift. She looked tired, and sluggish. "I'm--"
They all jerked their heads back when a shrill buzz echoed throughout the greeting chambers, far louder than even In-3's impressive vocalizations. The doors to the stadium were opening, and already there were those eager to claim their seats moving inside.
He stood, monitoring Pa-5 as the others mirrored him. "We're to limit the damage as much as possible. Don't let them gain the advantage in Re-5 and Pa-5's hearings, first and foremost. Anything involving Fort Io, leave it to me." He turned and led the congregation back to the others, this time avoiding placing a guiding hand on Pa-5. He blanched as she shuddered brushing up against one of the aides.
He wanted nothing more than to hold her close and escape from the meet with her. But they needed to present her with an image of…sustainability, if not strength. Dependence would ruin that.
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