Missing Elements (The Lament Book 3) (22 page)

It was a strange thing to
consider. After a bit, she simply failed at it.

Luckily she wasn't the one he had
to convince. It was, she feared, that he was right however. She
didn't
dream of anything other than what she'd been told to, did she? The very best
that anyone could have was a good job and a nice, quiet, life.

For some reason it seemed
wrong
to even try for anything more.

Which was the point that Mr. Nix
was trying to make, no doubt.

Darnel Nix was the first person
to show up for the meeting, but not even close to the last. By noon the little
Bard's office space had filled with both chairs and people. Men, women and even
children had all come to make certain their side of the debate was heard and
understood.

Pran hadn't known that they'd
have differences of opinion like that still, to be honest. Of the eleven people
there, not one of them truly claimed to side with the others in more than a
loose fashion. Luckily Bard Clarice came about then, looking refreshed and
pleasant, wearing a dress that looked new, but not strange. It was the kind of
thing that only a High Councilor would ever be able to do, having that many
fine gowns to wear like that. So many that even after nearly a week, her new
assistant hadn't seen them all.

"Ah! I see that everyone is
coming then? That's a good thing. I need to fill you all in on what's happening
then, before we actually meet with the leaders of the local population."
She looked at Pran directly, but didn't ask her to leave, which would have been
fair, she guessed. Why would these people want someone like her, an outsider,
to be aware of what they were doing and thinking? Not that they'd been shy
about telling her how wrong everyone else in their group was.

The High Bard actually smiled and
waved at her, which was inclusive, rather than a thing designed to reduce her
role.

"You've all met Bard Pran?
Good then. Perhaps more than anyone else, she is responsible for us having this
chance. It's been arranged on
her
orders and suggestion, and the fact
that this hasn't descended into violence and death already is based mainly on
the fact that Pran has stopped all of it, standing between the most likely
sources of danger and ourselves. On
both
sides of the issue. If we do
nothing else in this, we should all dedicate ourselves to making certain she
gets out unmolested and unharmed." There was a look that cast over the
entire audience, and it was clearly commanding of attention, even if the words
were silly.

Why would anyone care about her?
These people had differing ideas, but also one thing in common. They'd waited
hundreds of years to get their various projects going.

She was just some girl to most of
them. Not anyone important. Oh, to herself, of course, but these people didn't
even know who Pran was.

They all nodded in agreement
anyway. Even the woman from the Firmament, who kept glaring at the others, and
negating most of what anyone else said, over and over again. She didn't use
real arguments, just claiming that the end times were upon them and that god
had called for the faithful to return to the land of the living, rise up and
strike down the unbelievers. It wasn't very sane seeming to her, even if the
lady managed to be more polite about it than would have normally been expected.

The High Bard looked from one to
the next, fixing each with a solid gaze that was without fear or even angst.

"We will, of course, most
likely die trying this again. That has been the outcome before, and there is
very little different this time. The Guardians still hold to their mandate, and
we have been unable to infiltrate them, like always. I believe our best hope is
to trust in Pran here, to help us this time. She's a most sensible
person..."

A little boy, who couldn't have
been older than ten looked over at her.

"She's very young, isn't
she? Not one of us, I mean, but an
actual
child. Is it wise to put our
faith in someone with so little experience?"

It didn't sound like he meant it
to be mean, so rather than lash out at him for being insulting, Pran shook her
head, trying to sound reasonable.

"Of course it isn't. Ask
yourselves however, what has being
wise
gotten you so far?" She
grinned, and the boy smiled back, a bit shyly. It was charming, even if he was
only average in looks. Too thin through the face really, with teeth that lacked
straightness by far too much to be pretty. She went on, since everyone was
listening to her anyway. "I have one piece of advice however... You
have
to go into this as a single unit. With one message. If you show up scattered
like you are, all acting for your own little group, you'll get nothing. If, on
the other hand, you speak with one voice, and give in to the demands of the
Guardians at every turn, you can have a start. Trying for more than that right
now is probably a bad idea. It's going to take a long time for anyone to really
trust you here. You
have
time though, right? People keep speaking of
hundreds of years and many lives. You all seem so hurried though. Like you have
to rush to total completion in one day, or things can't possibly work
out." That was an observation, and one that was probably wrong, but
Clarice smiled at her.

Then she looked at Darnel Nix,
which was a name that she'd recognized, even if the face was new to her. Like
Tims she'd seemed shocked to find the man was a scientist now. Not doubtful
however.

"I have to agree. My take on
this is that we should offer a host of new sciences to these people, and not
ask for anything in return. We owe them,
not
the other way around. If we
go in with hat in hand and beg them to let us improve their lives, and then let
them choose how it will be done, that's our best hope."

That got disgusted looks from
half of them and a sigh from Nix.

"If the Firmament or one of
their splinter groups doesn't kill us all to bring Jesus back early." He
glared at the woman who had been saying things that sounded a little like that,
but not exactly, and she started to retort, her first syllable angry and bitter
already.

Pran cut them both off, the
wooden chair already making her behind a bit sore.

"Stop." She held up her
right hand, not looking at either of them, because that was confrontational.
"Don't do it. Either of you. Like I just said, work
together
. That
or leave right now. If you even start into these things in front of High
Guardian Saran, or the High Judge, they'll
have
to mistrust you. For
that matter, don't tell them any lies. It won't work. Go and mean what you say,
and trust in them not to let things go too far wrong. Very little may happen
today, but that's all you really need. Tiny steps will work, I think."

The young boy, or the ancient man
that seemed that way to her, stood and moved to the front of the room, near
Clarice's desk.

His voice was high pitched, but
calm and a bit reserved.

"I suggest that we allow one
voice to speak for us today."

That was fine with everyone else,
but the problem was who that speaker would be. Things got heated then, as
people went back and forth, not choosing either High Bard Clarice, who was a
very obvious choice to Pran's mind, or Doctor Millis. The man who had at one
time founded their culture. Both were considered too controversial, one being a
spy and the other claiming to be... The man that founded the current world. It
was a good point, Pran decided. It sounded fake to her as well.

Bard Clarice didn't speak for a
long time, but finally attracted the attention of the room with a small wave of
her hand. It was about an hour later, and no one really seemed closer to a
single nominee than when they'd started.

"We're running out of time,
ladies and gentlemen. I have a proposition... Why not let Pran decide who
should represent us? As I mentioned, this whole thing has been set up on her
command. Hearing that she chose the voice for us all will, perhaps, lead to
these people trusting us a bit more."

Pran looked at the woman, who was
clearly insane. Why would
she
be the one to pick someone like that? If
these people couldn't decide for themselves...

Which was the point. They
couldn't. They were too tied in to their old ways of thinking and doing things
to change in the half of an hour they had left before they needed to leave for
The Lament. They didn't even know that was going to be the plan, either. She
did, however.

It was pretty obvious that everyone
in the room expected her to pick Clarice for the job, but they
hadn't
been wrong there earlier. She was a spy that had moved to the highest place of
power already. No one would be trusting her just then. Not if they were sane.

Likewise with Doctor Millis.

For a half of a moment, she
almost said that she'd do it herself, but that was no better than those others.
Worse, since Pran was just some girl really, not anyone that would be trusted
or respected.

"Fine. I suggest that you
get... Judge Brown." That got everyone in the room to look her way at
least. After furrowing her brow for a long time, Clarice finally started
laughing, then clapped a few times.

Everyone had stopped bickering at
least.

"Oh! That's
brilliant
,
Bard Pran. He can confirm our general agreement and homogenize the message for
us. Judges are amongst the most respected of individuals, and largely beyond
reproach. Also, by placing our fate in the hands of one of their people like
that, it will show our trust in them. People trust those that have faith in
them
,
after all."

That should have lead to a major
argument, but for some reason there was only muttering instead, and finally
Clarice called for Walden the floor boy to send a runner to find the Judge they
wanted. It didn't take too long, since the man was just down on the first
floor, in the High Judges office, waiting for the meeting to start himself.

On the good side, he'd dressed
for the occasion, in very proper white robes. He looked good, and stately,
which Pran tried to memorize, wanting to capture his expression and carriage
for the statue in the other room. It would take some rearranging of the mouth
and the set of the eyes, but not so much she couldn't do it. Thinking about
that she ran to the other room, to get a piece of drawing paper and a pencil,
then snuck back in to draw the man as everyone else spoke to him.

He was, naturally, confused.

Not for long however.

That was good, since Pran was
able to get her quick sketch done, and then get it put away, before trying to
herd them all out of the office space without telling them what the plan was.

No one was too alarmed by that
either, even though they ended up with a group of nearly fifty people walking
down the street, following her and Captain Jacques, about ten minutes later. Ten
of them were Guardians, and they ran around the outer edge of the crowd,
vanishing and coming back in different places. Pran tried to drop into a trance
state, and watch them all, but they were working together, in a highly
disjointed fashion, meaning that she couldn't even see the ones right in front
of her most of the time. There were too many fast moving distractions for that.

The air was chilly still,
afternoon or not, and it really seemed like snow might be possible, if the
clouds in the sky were any indication. Their breath made large steam clouds in
the air as they marched, and she shivered the whole time, trying not to let
anyone get lost or separated, since that would make her look bad.

The door to The Lament was open
when they got near it, after crossing the large open area of stone that was the
Lincoln landing area. She went in first, or tried too. That was in case someone
had managed to take the ship already, and they had to run. Clark took her arm
however, suddenly being at her side.

"No. That's Salle's job for
this mission. If we have to fight, remember to take cover first. Get the High
Councilors out, if you can." It was official sounding, but he didn't
mention that her job would be protecting Clarice, not the others.

She was still the High Bard, and
that meant, being from the past or not, Pran's boss.

Salle was gone for a long time,
as she stood outside, shivering, her arms across her chest for warmth. Most of
the others had jackets on, but Pran didn't own one, herself. It made the short
wait, only about seven minutes, seem like a much longer time, as she stood
there with her teeth chattering and her skin turning blue.

When the Guardian came back, he
waved from the door.

"All clear."

That meant, finally, that she was
allowed to get inside. After everyone else, of course. To her surprise however,
even as she waited for the rest of them to get aboard, Bard Clarice came over
and took her by the arm.

"We should get you inside,
before you catch your death. Why aren't you wearing a coat?"

She didn't speak until the warmth
of the interior hit her. It wasn't hot inside the airship, but it was warm
enough that it felt good, after being out for a while. Without thinking about
it, she turned to the left and started to walk toward the dining room. It was
the only place large enough for all of them to sit, after all. They wouldn't
have enough chairs, but the truth was that Pran hadn't been expecting more than
twenty people for the whole thing. Most of the High Councilors had come, and a
few had assistants along with them. Plus, there were people already there,
having come to the ship directly. That was mainly Doctor Millis and his people,
she saw.

On the good side, all of the
tables had been removed from the space, and a lot of chairs added. They were
all wooden and lacked seat cushions, but everyone got to sit down. Things were
a little unsettled, for a bit, but the cook had a constant stream of coffee
coming out, even as they took off into the air.

Looking a bit nervous, Bard Ben,
her friend, came in, holding his guitar. It was a good idea, since the plan
wouldn't have the meeting getting underway until they were up in the air
safely, and a bit away from the city.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Bard
Benjamin, I think we have time for a few songs, while we all get settled?"
He actually sang, and did a good job of it. His playing was still a bit weak,
but not horribly so. In all, he looked and sounded like a very proper Bard,
even if a young one. As the ship leveled out, he strummed the very last note of
his final song, and silenced the strings, which got everyone to look toward
him, waiting for something to happen.