Page 27 of Skinwalker's Bane
Owns looked at her, startled. “Do you?”
Devin hesitated. “I might have once. I’ve learned that everyone is different. You can’t lump Plebians together any more than you can say all Patricians are the same.”
“Ah, yes. You lived in the Wall district as a small child,” Magorian said softly.
Devin’s gut clamped. “I thought most people had forgotten about that.”
“Magorian researches anyone who wants to talk to me,” Captain Owens said. “Which brings us to you. I presume you’re here about the shard business?”
Devin nodded. “I have an extensive list of questions that people have asked me to ask you. Before I even begin with them, though, I do need to confirm that the shard exists. Can you tell me that much?”
Both Magorian and Owens were silent. Devin could feel their surprise. “Did I say something wrong?”
“On the contrary,” Magorian said. “Most people sitting in that chair tend to be far more demanding.”
“I wouldn’t have expected anyone to ask if a subject can be openly discussed, first,” Owens added. She got up and moved back around to her side of the desk. “The shard exists,” she added. “The reason I didn’t release the information to the public was because of the very reactions it has caused now—rampant misunderstanding and fear. The Civil Guards tell me that the hysteria is building. They’re having a hard time keeping everyone calm and contained. Every additional day people are allowed to whisper among themselves allows the speculation and panic to build.”
“You are confirming the shard exists now to try to contain the reaction?“ Devin asked.
“It seems my hand has been forced. I would like to know who is doing the forcing,” Owens added, frowning.
“I’m working on that,” Magorian added.
“I asked Dhaval Bull who told him about the shard,” Devin said. “He wouldn’t tell me. It was important to him that it remain his secret, so I let him be. I would like to know who would find it advantageous for the information to leak now, after ten years of silence.”
“Alas, there’s no shortage of people who fit into that category,” Owns replied. She tapped at the desk, which put a heads-up display of the time in the air in front of her. Then she glanced at Magorian. He nodded.
Owens looked at Devin. “How much time can you spare me, Devin?”
“I have all morning free,” Devin said truthfully.
“I have a meeting in fifteen minutes time that I would like you to sit in on. I suspect a great many of your questions will be answered, in that meeting. Will you join us?”
Devin drew in a breath and let it out, her heart skipping. “Of course,” she said. “I would be honored.”
Magorian had been leaning against the wall with one shoulder. He straightened with a decisive snap. “Come along,” he said shortly and marched out of the office.
Devin realized he was talking to her and scurried to get to her feet and follow him.
There was a door to the immediate left of the Captain’s, that Magorian pushed open with a thrust. He walked through and held the door open for her on the other side.
Devin stepped into the room curiously. It was empty, which she should have expected, because the Captain had said the meeting would start in fifteen minutes. She didn’t know how it worked on the Bridge. At meetings she attended, people hurried in right on the appointed minute, or even a few minutes late. It was as if no one attending really wanted to be there. Given how boring and useless most meetings turned out to be, it explained the attendees’ reluctance.
There was a big table in the room, that was hollow in the middle. It followed the shape of the room, which made it roughly square, with round corners and an opening near the other door.
The size meant there was no room for anything else except the chairs around it. The chairs, Devin noted, were not the big, padded, upholstered monsters she would have expected to find in a room right next to the Captain’s office. They were, instead, upright, hard-seated chairs with narrow frames, meant purely for business. There were hundreds of similar stackable chairs all over the ship. Any printer anywhere on the ship could extrude the parts for such a chair, no matter what the width of the printer’s aperture, so if a chair was needed quickly, this free print file chair was the one usually dashed off to accommodate the need.
Devin approved of the workman-like feeling the simple chairs and plain table gave the room, although she did like a little padding on chairs she sat on.
“Have a seat,” Magorian told her. “The others will be along shortly. I’ll be back in a minute.” He shut the door on the room, leaving her alone in it. There were no windows, no paintings or pictures. The wall had been set to a neutral brown, too. It was one of the plainest rooms Devin had ever seen.
Because the chairs were simple, she felt no hesitation to sit at the Captain’s board table. She did pick a chair at the far end from the top, where she presumed Magorian and the Captain sat when they attended meetings.
She had barely gotten herself settled in the chair when the door opened again. It was not Magorian who stepped through, but a very tall woman with blonde hair and a sharp expression in her eyes. An even taller red-headed man was with her. They were talking softly and laughing as they came in and Devin suspected they were partners of some sort. When the man put his hand on the small of the woman’s back, she knew they were romantically linked.
The woman tilted her head as she looked at Devin. “I know you,” she said. “Yes. You’re Devin…something. The Shard woman.”
“Is that what they’re calling me?” Devin asked. “It’s a terrible name.”
