“I suppose not,” Mal said with a slight glare. “You know, it sounds as if your appreciation of our captain, and now his wife, is increasing. Objectivity, my good doctor?”
Brisack waved that off. “Oh, come now, didn’t you ever feel a bit of personal interest in your research subjects?”
Mal sighed. “Only occasionally, for a moment. But once that personal connection is recognized, it can be dealt with and destroyed. I’m warning you—don’t get too attached to Shin. Or his wife. All research subjects will eventually be terminated. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
“Perhaps, perhaps,” Brisack said reluctantly while Mal scowled. “But I can’t help but wonder, might you be intrigued by Mrs. Shin?”
The older man shrugged grudgingly. “While I hadn’t considered observing her, she just might be worth our attention. Now, read the entire letter.” An odd, somewhat sickly smile appeared on his face.
It was as if Nicko Mal wasn’t used to demonstrating genuine happiness, and it nauseated him.
Seeing him truly happy about something naturally put Brisack on edge. The good doctor held the letter up to his eyes to read it in the dim light.
“This is really quite bold, suggesting that the Administrators are extending the practices of the kings. But it’s subtly worded, so I’m surprised Gadiman noticed it. Only an intelligent woman could craft such a sentence,” his voice warmed without his noticing. “No wonder the administrator over education couldn’t recognize it.” He chuckle softly. “Something concerned him about the letter, but he couldn’t discern exactly what.”
Mal nodded. “Initially I wondered, is she truly intelligent or did she accidentally write the wrong words?”
“Sounds like another question for us to test,” Brisack grinned. “I wonder if her husband knows what kind of thinking she’s committing. Look at this line, suggesting that parents be allowed to supervise their children’s education and not hold the government liable!” He chuckled as he shook his head. “No, it’s not accidental. She’s far too clever, and too often.”
His tone grew so appreciative it dangerously approached adoration.
“Indeed, she’s a little too perceptive. No wonder her letter made it all the way to the top.”
Mal sat back in his chair, watching his companion’s growing ardor with amusement. “Keep reading. I don’t think you’ve reached the end just yet.” His smile took on an uncomfortably pleasant, yet also intestine-knotting, quality.
Brisack squinted to read the neat, careful handwriting. A moment later his breathing stopped. His eyes quit moving across the page. His chest inflated and his lips pressed tightly together.
Mal’s smile turned positively diarrheal, spreading all over his face.
Breaking their rule, Brisack grabbed a candle and lit it in order to make sure he actually read the words correctly.
He did.
“Why, that little . . . sow!” the good doctor swore in aggravation.
Mal’s eyebrows went up, never before hearing his companion use that vulgar term for women, and his smile grew to epidemic proportions. “I see you found it.”
“How dare she?!” Brisack spluttered. “Did Gadiman notice this?”
“He didn’t mention it,” Mal said easily, almost cheerfully. “He was more concerned about what the Administrator of Education pointed out to him. I suppose that since that section was also so subtly worded, he didn’t notice it. But apparently you did.”
Brisack flattened the letter on his lap and read the sentences out loud that caused his face to contort and his language to burn.
“‘I therefore request that I be allowed to conduct such a trial, the results of which I would happily share with the Administrators and Chairman. While what I am requesting is untested, it is only through conjecture, then trial, that we can see if such an alternative to education would be beneficial for this small segment of our citizenry. After all, it is through conjecture that we have accepted that the rest of the world is poisoned and uninhabitable, and it is through conjecture that it is assumed women are unable to safely bear more than two children.’ Conjecture?! Assumed?!” Brisack exploded.
Mal wiped a bit of Brisack spittle off his face.
“I proved conclusively that women can’t bear more than two children! How dare she question my research methods?!”
“Keep reading,” was all that Mal said, his smile settling in for a long pandemic.
Brisack’s eyes bulged and he turned back to the letter. It took only a moment for the next explosion to occur.
Mal had pulled out his handkerchief in preparation.