The Forest at the Edge of the World(140)
His partner scoffed. “Who, Gadiman? The most paranoid creature to have ever skulked in the world? When we began this you said you wanted balance. Gadiman is as unbalanced and shifty as the land around Mt. Deceit! You replace me with him, you’ll both be discovered and overthrown in less than a year. There’s tragedy, and then there’s outrage. Keep this research to creating tragedy, and you can continue it for decades. But if it produces outrage, someone will start digging, and at the bottom of the pit they’ll find you!”
Mal met his stony glare. “The return of the Guarders is tragic, my good doctor,” he said slowly. “If Shin wants to avoid tragedy, and wants his woman to birth another baby, he’s going to have to make sure of her safety himself. Shin’s a test subject. If you can’t handle that, I’m sure Gadiman can. What’s it going to be, Doctor Brisack?”
Brisack swallowed hard. “Speculation—fatherhood has made Shin so fierce a bear that not even a dozen Guarders could bring him down.”
“A dozen you say? Fine,” Mal smiled thinly. “A dozen for Captain Shin it is, then.”
---
It wasn’t unusual to see the Administrator of Family Life out in the city of Idumea, not even this early as the sun was rising. Of all the administrators he was the least intimidating and most gregarious. He smiled at people as he passed and was known as The Good Doctor, be it for his effectiveness or his manner, no one was quite sure. But his eyes had that twinkle one hoped to see when they’re being told it was indeed a raging infection, but he just might have something new to treat it that didn’t involve cutting, sucking, or bleeding, so don’t worry, sit tight, and be sure not to touch anything on your way out.
Ten years ago he joined the university working with other surgeons to experiment with sulfurs, resins, herbs, and anything else nature provided that might be medically beneficial. The university work was occasionally more time-consuming but certainly more predictable than panicked knocks on his door at all hours.
Still, he was frequently stopped along the road to “take a quick look” at something. It never failed to amuse him how modesty vanished in public places when the most famous doctor in the world could be persuaded to examine a body part usually kept under wraps, even in one’s darkened bedroom.
But The Good Doctor marched with single-mindedness this morning through the mansion district and on to the official messenger service several blocks away. Something like this shouldn’t go through the regular messenger service, because that mode of delivery would serve only to confuse, not enlighten.
The fifty-five-year-old man, his gray-brown hair balding on top—and no, he wasn’t working on a cure for something as vain as that; besides, balding men are more virile, everyone knew that—didn’t notice the waves to get his attention, or the elderly man who held up a wrapped foot barely outside his peripheral vision. The Good Doctor stared only ahead of him, dodging citizens, carts, horses, and anything else that suddenly appeared in his shortened view.
He only hoped he worded it correctly. It had to be subtle yet obvious, while vague yet telling. But writing complex details, cataloguing findings, choosing words for their specificity, not their ambiguity, was all he’d ever done before.
Yet he couldn’t allow this. This was beyond research, running into senseless revenge. Revenge for a purpose, yes; he could see the reasoning for balancing the scales once they’d been brutally upset.
But this? To call it research insulted science, and he wouldn’t stand for that. It was now a cruel game, and the main participant didn’t even know he was playing. He deserved a fighting chance.
The Good Doctor was going to give him one.
After all, it was the doctor who gave Wiles’ map of Edge to Mal, marked with the future Mrs. Shin’s home. He was merely evening the odds.
---
Chairman Mal took a deep breath and sighed. “Yes, I actually do want to see him again,” he said to the page that stood at the door.
“Told you!” said a voice full of heartless glee, and the lanky man barged through.
The page backed up quickly, shutting the door behind him.
“Well, Gadiman?” Mal asked calmly.
“I had him followed all the way! Found the message, too!” His small eyes brightened as he licked his lips.
“Where’s the message now, Gadiman?”
“On its way. That’s what you wanted, right?”
Mal nodded. “Yes. Were you careful?”
“I’m always careful!” Gadiman bristled. “No one will be able to tell the seal was broken or the message read.”
“So what did it say?” Mal clasped his hands together.