The Mansions of Idumea (Book 3 Forest at the Edge series) (34 page)

Mahrree stared at him, picking out his
important words and discarding the rest. She was struck by the
thought that this man might be useful . . .

“We intend to borrow some of the village and
neighborhood organizational strategies and procedures you created,
devised, used, and implemented in order to facilitate, improve, and
increase the reaction and response time in the event or occurrence
of another disaster and/or emergency.”

Having followed all of his extra words
without stumbling, Mahrree felt a surge of confidence. “If you’d
like, Administrator, I could write up all that we did in Edge and
have it delivered to you,” she blurted out. Then, realizing that
she was only to smile and nod, she added lamely, “If it would
help.”

Perrin poked her back, a bit belatedly, but
with a great deal of warning packed into the tip of his finger.

To her surprise, Giyak broke away from the
official smile and tried on a real one. “Yes, yes actually I’d
appreciate that. Excellent idea.”

“I have some other ideas as well,” Mahrree
plowed on, ignoring the incessant jabbing in her back. She
had
to say the words—they were burning so hot in her chest
she’d begin smoking if she didn’t. When, ever
,
would she
have such an opportunity again? “You see, by the fourth day we
still had people at our home in the morning, begging us to tell
them what to do.”

“Really?” asked another administrator who
scowled severely. “Where were the soldiers?” He glared at
Perrin.

Mahrree answered for him, taking a step
closer to the table to give her back a rest from the pokes. “Far
too busy, sir. Much of the commerce section of Edge burned to the
ground the first day, but the lieutenant colonel and his men
successfully prevented it from spreading to the homes. I’m sure
you’d agree a fire would’ve been a far greater disaster.”

Several of the Administrators nodded.

Mahrree noticed that one of them watched her
earnestly, and he caught her gaze and held it. A small smile grew
on his face as he nodded additional encouragement. He raised his
eyebrows and parted his lips slightly as if to prod her to
continue. The glare of sunshine bounced off his nameplate, but
Mahrree could make out ‘Family Life.’

Emboldened by the support, she continued,
despite the less-than-subtle throat clearing of her husband behind
her. If he needed a drink of water, he should leave to get one.

“After the fires, every soldier was on detail
to remove rubble and assist citizens. With all due respect, I
haven’t seen nearly the level of destruction here as we experienced
in Edge,” Mahrree explained. “Every house was affected. We even
left ours damaged and exposed to the elements to come to Idumea.
Each soldier has been working double shifts to attend to everyone’s
needs. The soldiers are now rebuilding houses with the citizens as
quickly as possible.”

“Yes, we’ve heard a bit of that plan too,”
Giyak told her. “We wanted to hear it all from the colonel, here.
That’s why we invited him . . . and you. We’re very impressed.”
When he was out of his official mode, he spoke more succinctly.

Mahrree nodded and breathed comfortably,
despite hearing Perrin take a small step closer to her to get back
into poking position.

“Thank you, Administrator. But I didn’t get
to my point that I wanted to make.” She took another judicious step
forward out of stabbing range and bumped the table in front of her.
Her chest sizzled with unspoken words.

“What concerned me about the citizens, and
I’m sure would concern each of you as well, is that no one seemed
to know
what
to do. No one could discover for themselves how
to evaluate damage, or assess what needed to be done first. No one
dared make a decision. Everyone just wanted the soldiers to come
rescue them or tell them what to do.”

“Do you see that as a problem, Mrs. Shin?”
asked another Administrator whose name Mahrree couldn’t make out
because the name plate was at the wrong angle. She couldn’t tell if
his tone was accusatory or concerned.

“Only when all of the soldiers are busy
helping others, sir. Edge loves the fort and appreciates the
presence of the soldiers. But there are only so many of them to go
around. What I think needs to happen, Administrator,” she turned
back to Giyak, “is that people need to be taught how to help
themselves in a crisis.”

“Well that’s what we’re hoping to accomplish,
Mrs. Shin,” he assured her. “We are putting together a step-by-step
plan that will help the citizens see exactly what to do in every
situation.”

Mahrree nodded slowly. “Sounds like it has
great potential,” she said. “But I wonder—”

She felt her husband suddenly at her side,
followed by the most severe stab yet, up under her ribs, making her
breath catch in her throat.

Effective, she thought, but not enough,
Perrin. She kept her face as placid as possible, because there was
still more that had to be said. “I wonder, sir, how can you account
for every single scenario? Can you create enough different plans to
account for every kind of problem citizens may encounter?”

“Most likely not,” Giyak admitted.

“So then, sir, instead of creating plans for
each scenario, why not teach the people to think for themselves?
Give them some guidelines, yes, but also allow forums for people to
discuss problems and share their ideas?”

The Administrator looked at her for a moment.
“A forum, you say. In every village perhaps? I must consider
that.”

Mahrree beamed, feeling the intense rush that
accompanies the realization that people in power are actually
listening. “Please do, sir. It’d be similar to what we used to
have, at after-congregation meals, when people talked with each
other instead of watching some silly show at the amphitheater.
Because after all, I can’t imagine you would want an entire
populace that relies on the Administrators and the forts to make
every decision for them.”

And . . . just that quickly, her confidence
vanished as twenty-three pairs of eyes glared at her.

Perrin didn’t even need to stab her. She’d
gone too far, she knew it. She’d been dancing merrily and safely,
then suddenly ran headlong over a cliff.

There was still sun shining in the room, but
the warmth of it was gone. A cold darkness had come instead, and
the light left the Administrator of Security’s eyes. His smile
remained, but frozen in place. “Yes, indeed. That would be a
problem.”

Someone coughed, and across the room a chair
scritched the stone floor as it was repositioned. And then there
was only silence.

No, Mahrree realized with growing horror.
That’s not a
problem
. That’s their
solution
: a
population that can’t think for themselves but blindly follows
their leaders. Because when people stop thinking, they become
passive.

She remembered the day of the land tremor
when her neighbors gathered around her like lost toddlers, because
they were. The Administrators had positioned themselves as Parents
of the World, never wanting their Children to move on to lives of
their own. The Children wanted someone to make their decisions, to
alleviate them of all responsibility, and it was the Administrators
who greedily took everything.

She’d hit it directly on the head, and didn’t
even realize she was swinging. What she’d suspected for so many
years was now verified in the presence of the very men who
implemented it: people who don’t debate don’t think.

And when they don’t think, they don’t
question their leaders except to ask, “What do you want me to do
next?”

She heard Perrin’s breathing right behind
her, and thought she heard him hiss, “Mahrree!”

Smile, smile!

It was her father, nudging her. Mahrree
formed a large smile and tried to think of the most innocent and
motherly thoughts she could, hoping they’d reflect on her face.
Kittens. Fresh baked bread. Kisses on the forehead. Laughing
babies.

SMILE!

It must have worked, because the frozen
appearance of Administrator Giyak began to melt, his eyes
brightened again, and his smile became genuine. “Mrs. Shin, I look
forward to your information. When do you think you may have it
ready?”

Mahrree took the reprieve offered her as the
room slowly—

warily—warmed up again. “Would tomorrow be
satisfactory?”

“Yes, yes, of course! My goodness. That is
prompt. I don’t think we’ll have a plan for a few more seasons, you
understand, it having to go through committees then sub-committees
then be approved by all the Administrators—”

He stopped abruptly. A twitching near his eye
suggested he’d just received a poke in the back, but Perrin was
nowhere within stabbing distance. But another administrator
was.

The Administrator of Security recovered
quickly. “Your information will undoubtedly help. And I thank you
again for coming.” He extended his hand to her. “You’ve done great
things for Edge, you and your fine husband. Congratulations again,
Colonel Shin.”

Just keep smiling, she thought as she shook
his hand. Keep smiling.

A gentle throat clearing from the head of the
table turned her back to face Chairman Mal. His position had not
changed at all during the discussion; his hands still remained
clasped in front of him. “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Shin. I hope
you’ll have the opportunity to tour all of Idumea. I suspect your
in-laws hope your presence here will be permanent. Perhaps we
should see what we could do to help facilitate that.”

Despite all that had just transpired, Mahrree
couldn’t stop herself. “We’re quite happy in Edge, Mr. Chairman.
Please don’t go to any trouble on our account.”

The Chairman’s thin smile returned. “It’d be
no trouble at all, Mrs. Shin. We like to keep our family close to
us. Especially such
interesting
ones.” He nodded once to
dismiss them.

Mahrree had never been so grateful to exit a
room. She turned around and felt Perrin’s hand in the small of her
back, gently pushing her, but unnecessarily. The doors swung open
for them, and as they reached the waiting room Mahrree expelled a
big breath.

“Not yet,” Perrin snarled in her ear. “Say
nothing. Just get out.”

He continued to push her through the waiting
room to the crowded corridor, nudging her through the throngs of
people that barely moved away in time. When they reached the large
main doors he instead continued to direct her to the opposite
hall.

With growing dread she asked him, “Where are
we going?”

He came to her side and gripped her arm
tightly. “There’s one more office you need to see.” The growl in
his voice startled her.

The crowds were substantially thinner here on
this side of the building, and several paces before the last door
of the great hallway no one milled about, or even stood, as if an
invisible shield kept away all intelligent life from approaching
too closely. And if someone did near it, it’d whisper,
Turn
around now and run
.

Mahrree imagined she heard the warning, but
her husband obviously didn’t. Perrin stopped abruptly and turned
his wife to face the final door. The gold words above it
proclaimed, Administrator of Loyalty.

“
That
, Mrs. Shin,” his voice was cold
and angry and quiet, “is the next door you’ll walk through if you
don’t learn to control that tongue of yours!”

Tears of frustration and anger filled her
eyes. “Nothing happened!” she whispered fiercely back. “I just gave
them some ideas, and, and . . .”

He spun her to face him, and he looked around
briefly to see if anyone was watching. If they were, they did so
only out of the corners of their eyes, which was the only way
anyone ever looked toward Gadiman’s door.

Perrin yanked his wife to a corner and pushed
her right into it. The back of her head banged the stone wall, but
he didn’t seem to notice her wincing.

He stooped down to look her straight in the
eyes. “You just stood in front of all the Administrators and
Chairman Mal and revealed to them you can see that they are trying
to
control
the
world
. You really think they’re just
going to let that go?”

Mahrree ignored her new headache and
murmured, “I didn’t say that.”

“Not in so many words, but yes, you did!” he
snapped. “What’s wrong with you? Smile and nod. That’s what I told
you. Didn’t you even feel me poking you? You’re lucky I put my long
knife in my boot instead of my waistband today!”

Mahrree stared into her husband’s eyes that
looked like black stone. She wouldn’t back down. Not today. “I said
what needed to be said. Don’t I need to do my duty, no matter the
consequences? I had the whole of the government in front of me. All
I suggested was for them to help people respond better in a crisis
situation. If they read more into it than that, that’s not my
fault. I did nothing wrong.”

She ran the entire discussion in the main
conference room through her mind. It
was
fine; she was sure
of it. The words flowed easily as if she was prompted, and many of
the Administrators were smiling and nodding to her, especially the
one that was bald, had very warm eyes, and may have been Doctor
Brisack.

There was just a lull in the conversation,
that was all. Lulls are always uncomfortable.

Perrin’s jaw was working on something. He
stood straight again and looked at the cut stone wall next to him,
as if ready to interrogate it. He glanced behind him to the
corridor, where a dozen people many paces away suddenly began to
move as if they’d just remembered they had somewhere important to
go.

Perrin turned back to his wife. “Let’s get
out of here. We need to . . . talk.”

He gripped her again, digging his fingers
into the space between the muscles of her upper arm. She gulped as
he steered her through the crowd, and noticed most people jumped
out of his way before they even reached them. She didn’t dare look
at his face to see what everyone else saw to make them scatter, but
a few people tossed her glances of sympathy.