At the measured tones of a gong Salvo cleared his mind of thoughts as all the men turned as one to face a patch of murk. In the gloom, a door slowly opened. Behind a filmy gauze curtain, a golden light, suffused in pastel hues, slanted down from above. The gong struck thirteen jubilant strokes, and the shaft of muted golden light became a glare. Right before the glare faded to its previous soft hue, a dark figure appeared within it.
The baron had arrived.
Salvo, in twenty-three years as a Magistrate and his five years as a member of the Trust, had never gotten a clear, unobstructed view of Baron Cobalt. With his eyes still recovering from the sudden glare, and with the figure drifting, always in nervous motion, pacing back and forth behind the golden filter, he received the same impression as alwaysa gaunt man under six feet tall, head bowed as if in intense concentration, one hand under the chin, the other behind his back. He appeared to be wearing a flesh-colored bodysuit with a short cape drifting from the shoulders.
The baron’s face was in dark shadow, but Salvo was able to glimpse a long, narrow visage and a round, hairless skull that seemed just a bit too large. He had no idea of the color or shape of the baron’s eyes.
“Milton Reeth.” The voice was pitched to a pleasant, musical contralto. It was Baron Cobalt himself who spoke.
Salvo didn’t respond for a moment, and inwardly he cursed his hesitation as he stepped forward. “The termination warrant was served. By my own hand. I collected all the evidence of the arrangement.”
The slim figure of the Baron paced into the murk, a flitting shadow, then it returned to be silhouetted by the golden light. “Regrettable. His merchandise was excellent in the beginning. Why he thought he could continue supplying such execrable, substandard substitutes remains a puzzle.”
“Greed,” said Abrams, the Magistrate administrator. “He was offered a unique opportunity, we set him up to take full advantage of it, yet he desired more and he desired it more rapidly.”
“Yes,” Salvo declared a bit too loudly. He wanted to keep the Baron’s attention focused primarily on himself. “He found it easier to attract Dregs with his promises of smuggling them into the ville. Healthy outlanders were skeptical of him, and the Dregs had nothing to lose.”
“Yes,” agreed Baron Cobalt contemplatively. “Greed. It’s a kind of sickness, a compulsion, isn’t it?”
No one answered.
“What of the men you chose to implement the termination? Did they see or hear anything that would arouse suspicion?”
“No, Baron,” replied Salvo stolidly. “Reeth was too afraid to reveal anything to them. He evidently thought a mistake had been made in administration, and it could be rectified if he spoke with me.”
“He was correct in a way, wasn’t he?” The baron’s laugh was the trilling of a bird.
Lakesh, the wizened senior archivist, asked gruffly, “What about that loose blaster of yours whom you took along?”
Salvo didn’t hide the irritation in his tone. “I have no such men under my command.”
“Come now, Salvo,” said Baron Cobalt. “Lakesh is being annoyingly oblique, but you know to whom he refers.”
Taking a breath, Salvo declared, “Kane saw nothing of importance. If he did, it was beyond his understanding. I spoke with him privately only a few minutes ago, and he accepted the cover story. If he is curious, I kept it in check.”
“Superficially, perhaps,” Abrams argued. “Curiosity runs very strong in the Kane line. We all remember his grandfather and father, possibly two of the best Magistrates in any division in any ville.”
“And,” intoned Guende, the small-statured staff member, “they suffered the same fate as the fabled cat. At least in the case of your predecessor, Salvo.”
The baron moved again, drifting gracefully toward the shadows, then back into the light. “The Dulce operation is a very critical one, as we know. The need for raw materials seems to increase exponentially, the closer the program comes to fruition. Therefore, Salvo, it’s been decided by the Trust, after a consultation with the Directorate, that you are instructed to take charge of the accruing, processing and transportation of the merchandise to Dulce.”