The Fall of Chance (13 page)

Pearson didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, but I did, sir. Twice, sir.”

Lasper frowned at the lie but couldn’t argue it without admitting he’d heard the knock in the first place. “Well,” he said, “it must have been done quietly because
we
didn’t hear you.”

He looked at his apprentices as though commanding agreement. The room was so deadly quiet that the emptiness told the lie.

“I’m very sorry, I expect you were too busy to hear,” Pearson spoke loudly as though he thought Lasper was deaf. He weighed it just right so Lasper could get the implication but couldn’t challenge him without bringing attention to it. Pearson’s look of bland innocence never slipped, so how could Lasper argue? He’d apologised, albeit in a back-hand fashion and Lasper looked like he was wrestling with how to counter Unt’s friend. Finally, he seemed to give up the effort as not worth it.

He fixed Unt with a dark look, “So, you’ve brought me our new Novice.” The word “Novice” was a snapping of his jaws.

“I have,” said Pearson.

“Well, I’m sure it must be a very daunting experience for him; all these people in such a strange place: one where he never expected to be.” “Expected” was another stab of the fangs.

“Everyone’s been very helpful,” Unt spoke. He didn’t want to speak. He wanted to run and hide but he knew if he didn’t stand up to Lasper now, he’d be cowering from him forever.

Lasper’s scowl deepened like a wince of pain. “I hope so. It must be difficult for one more used to tilling fields.”

“Unt’s too smart to be a farmer,” Pearson defended him.

“Yes,” Lasper rasped the word, “it seems he has been a very great thinker.”

“Councillor Brooker and I are delighted to have him,” said Pearson.

“Oh, I’m certain Councillor Brooker will make him most comfortable. I’m afraid I might give you a rougher ride, Unt. You can attest to that, can’t you Pearson?”

Whatever the implied history, Pearson didn’t waver, “It’s fair to say you’ve an eye for the little things, sir. Like you say, you’re not a man to worry about.”

Lasper, who had said nothing of the sort, blinked. Pearson had used a compliment to neatly box him in again.

“Well then, Unt,” he spoke at last, “What is it you wish to know?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You came here to find things out. As a boy well-suited to this job you must be burning with questions. What would you like explained to you?”

Unt floundered and Pearson stepped in. “Councillor Brooker just wanted Unt to meet everyone and get a little taste of what they do.”

“I’m sure Mr Brooker does,” said Lasper, “But I’m equally sure an intelligent lad like Unt has questions of his own, don’t you Unt?”

“Er, nothing specific,” Unt managed.

Lasper cocked an eyebrow. “Really? A shame. There is so much that I would like to teach you.”

“I’m sure I’ll have questions later,” said Unt.

“I’m sure you will,” said Lasper, “And there will plenty of time for us to discuss those questions when you’re under my wing.” There was a hint of blue poison in his wintry smile.

“True enough,” said Pearson, “And I think we’ve wasted enough of your time.”

“Oh, no,” said Lasper, “I have all the time in the world for Unt. Well, goodbye for now.”

*              *              *              *

When they got out a minute later, Unt could feel sweat like a sheet down his back.

“Well, I reckon that was a respectful draw,” said Pearson.

“You think?” said Unt.

“Definitely. You were in a new place, on his turf and you avoided him wiping the floor with you.”

“Thanks to you.”

“Hey, I’d have done more if I could. He loathes you well enough but he’s got plenty of hatred left for the rest of us. The way Lasper acts when he dislikes a man, there’s no room for hatred to make anything worse.”

“How do you cope?”

“What you just saw: match him with amiability. The nicer you are, the madder you make him and the beauty is, he can’t exactly complain about it.”

At last they were at the final door. It lay at the back of the great building, behind the antechambers of the hall. They found Kelly all alone. His apprentices were on errands and Kelly was poring over reams of lists.

“Unt,” he greeted them and waved them into seats. “How are you finding things?”

“Fine,” said Unt.

Kelly smiled. “The eloquence of youth. So you’ve been given an overview?”

“Yes.”

“Which leaves only the function of Chairman. The important thing you must remember is that ‘Chairman’ doesn’t mean ‘Leader’, though people tend to use both terms. The Chairman has a ceremonial role but his most important function is one of mediation.”

Unt nodded.

“The Chairman must be as indifferent as the dice. He is responsible for all other Councillors and the entire Order. When it comes to work, the Councillors and Acolytes are all your superiors but if you have any personal issues, you come to me. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” said Kelly, rising. He took Unt’s hand and shook it, “Then I wish you the warmest welcome.”

*              *              *              *

“That was short and sweet,” said Pearson as they wandered into the main hall, “It’s not like Kelly to miss an opportunity to blow air.”

“It was short,” Unt agreed.

“And now that’s over,” said Pearson, “it’s time to show you the perks of the job.”

“Perks?”

“Twenty one Councillors. Seven women. None young. It’s got to be balanced somewhere, hasn’t it? Unt, I’m taking you to the Hall of Clerks.”

It was now that Unt realised they weren’t taking the stairs back to Brooker’s chambers. They were leaving the building. “The Clerks?” he asked.

“Unt, I’m about to show you the best thing about being in this Order,” Pearson was grinning now. “As a Novice, your main job’s going to be running around, fetching information for the guys above you. And where do we get that information? Not your brother Councillors: they’re as lost as we are. It’s the Clerks who keep all the records and it’s them you’ll be seeing often.”

They were out and among the Square now. Unt was familiar with the Hall of Clerks: as you left Fate Hall it stood off at a forty-five degree angle to the left. It was the second-largest building in town; almost as large as Fate Hall itself.

It was fronted by a covered walkway which was held up by stone columns. The columns might have been placed with some intention of decorating them but in the end, they’d been left plain and smooth. The face of the building was lined with many double doors but they all led into a single massive chamber. There were so many doors so as to allow the heavy flow of traffic that came in and out all day. Society might embrace a kind of chaos but it still relied and thrived upon bureaucracy and that was what the Clerks provided.

Pearson led him through the closest set of doors into an open hall as broad as the building’s entire front. A dozen yards in, across a polished marble floor, one great wooden desk ran almost to the side walls at either end. The Clerks had many functions and every function had many queues. Unt had spent a lot of his life in queues like those, registering for this and that - and that was just as a child. A lot of adults seemed to spend their lives here, queuing.

“This is what you wanted to show me?” asked Unt.

“Not here. This way.” Pearson took him round the left of the desk, through a closed door and into a smaller hallway where another counter stood. Pearson went straight over and leaned against it.

“Unt,” he said, “I’d like you to meet the lovely Necta, font of all knowledge and the most beautiful girl in town.”

The lady in question was a woman, not a girl. She had to be ten years older than Pearson - way too old for Unt, but he had to admit, he could see the attraction.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, young pup,” said Necta, smiling.

“Not in my experience,” grinned Pearson, “And besides, how can it be flattery when it’s true?”

“’The most beautiful girl in town’, indeed. What would your wife say?” Necta leaned on the counter, her nose was just inches from Pearson’s.

“I’m sure she’d agree with me. There’s nothing wrong with her eyes - I don’t need to tell you how sharp they are.”

“Naughty boy,” Necta dangled a pen over Pearson’s fingers. She had very neat nails.

“I do try,” Pearson raised a slow finger and coiled it around the pen.

“And you can keep trying,” Necta flipped the pen out of his reach and clipped it to her blouse. Unt was feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

“So who’s this handsome young man?” asked Necta with a smile. Unt had never been on the receiving end of such a smile in his life.

“This is Unt,” said Pearson. “He’s going to be taking over from me.”

“You mean you’re leaving me?” Necta pouted.

“Under great protest and heartache,” said Pearson, “Duty drags me from my heart’s desire.”

“And my duty drags me away from smooth-talking rogues,” said Necta.

“I don’t see you moving.”

“I will. Unless you have any business pressing?” She arched a neat black eyebrow.

“Oh, you’re just too cruel,” said Pearson, “I come to give my tearful farewells and you abuse me. I love and adore you and you torment me, you wench.”

“Which is your way of saying you have no business,” said Necta. “Some of us have work to be getting on with, so I’ll say goodbye to you Pearson. Unt, I look forward to seeing more of you.”

With that she turned and walked away – ‘wriggled’ would be a better word.

Pearson clapped an arm over Unt’s shoulder and wheeled him away. “There, what did I tell you?” he said.

“Nice,” said Unt.

“Nice?” scoffed Pearson. “You’re a monster of understatement. That, Unt, is all woman”.

That was the youngest Unt had felt all day. He’d gone into the adult workplace and not been intimidated too much - even by Lasper - but that encounter was beyond him. He felt more like a child than he had in a long time.

Unt looked around and noticed they weren’t going back to Fate Hall. “Where are you taking me?” he asked.

“Unt,” said Pearson, “There is one last, great, worldly wonder that you have yet to experience and that, my friend, is the pub. What do you say to a spot of lunch before reporting back?”

Unt felt he should say no but didn’t feel like he could. Besides, his stomach argued, he realised he’d not given a thought to food all day. So, with Unt’s consent, Pearson led them off down a side alley.

“You know,” said Pearson, dropping his voice even though they were outside, “If you think Necta’s too old for you right now, you could always try Orla.”

“Orla?”

“She pulls the other half of desk duty there and I’m sure you’ll like
her
. Blonde, doe-eyed, got it all going on everywhere,” he traced an outline with his hands, “And just a few years older than you.”

Unt didn’t know what to say so he said something that had been playing on his mind. “Didn’t Necta say you were married?”

“Of course,” said Pearson, “Isn’t everyone?”

“Don’t you feel bad, talking to other women like that?”

“It makes me feel good,” Pearson replied. “We all marry who we’re told to but that doesn’t make us dead. There’s nothing wrong with a little playful fun.”

They had reached a cream-fronted pub called the Pickled Bear. The sign above depicted a bear in a pickling jar and its chipped paintwork matched that of the building. Colour had peeled in some places and elsewhere, lumps of render had fallen off entirely but the Bear was apparently so pickled, it didn’t care about its appearance.

They stepped past a man by the front door who was lighting a monstrous black pipe. He looked like he was a regular and Pearson acted like he was too but the two men didn’t exchange looks, never mind words.

This was Unt’s first time in a pub. He’d had glimpses of the inside of some and his imagination had filled in the blanks but the Bear was a distorted view of those visions. The dingy interior was lit by a mix of candles and gas lamps whose greasy light struggled against the dark wood of the floors, tables and seats. The small space was divided into cubicles that were packed close and divided by coloured panes of bubble-effect glass. Those panes were a barrier to what light there was and what did pass through was so warped that Unt felt drunk just looking at it.

He was surprised at how busy the place was for the middle of the day. Lunchtime might be looming but it looked like these patrons had been here since opening. All eyes turned to the new arrivals with instinctive hostility. Chief among them was the landlord who filled the narrow-fronted bar, dead ahead.

Pearson led Unt straight up there. Unt eyed the mysterious coloured bottles that hung upside-down at the back. They and the brass fittings of the pump were strangely welcoming - the only welcoming things in the pub.