Stars Rise

LXXV. The End of Portia's Work Day

Portia Nero tapped her fingernails on her desk top and began the same ritual as every time she had to call Fable in to connect her calls. Fable the magician. There was a throw pillow in Portia's bottom left desk drawer. She took it out, held it to her face and screamed.

The sound that came out was a hideous barely muffled shriek, but at least it was no longer inside her.

Then she raised her voice and, with as much dignity as possible, yelled, "Fable!" To her credit, she was an excellent assistant, and she was through the door and standing in front of Portia's desk in seconds. "I need a commlink to Matiz Castra in Casicaa, please."

A square reflected Portia seated gracefully in front of the sunset through the window over the capital, the view from a height that still made her stomach plummet if she stood too close to the glass, lights on boats in the bay twinkling on one at a time and then a dozen at a time. She smoothed her hair, cleared her throat and said, "Can I have a word please, Matiz?"

Matiz Castra appeared in the square with pitch black night in the background through the window behind him. "Yes, you can have a word, so long as it's about Benito Fortunato's murder," he said.

"All business," said Portia. "That's fine, I called to talk about Fortunato anyway. Listen, Justin Marius would like to extend deep, heartfelt sympathies and he wants to assure you personally that Benito's murder was not a part of our plan. We're deeply saddened over here, his loss is just, ugh, devastating. He was a true devotee to the cause, and the path forward without him is difficult to imagine. It's unfortunate that we can't all take time to mourn his passing. We're still counting on you to come through tonight, and I know that with Exequi Marius's personal assurance, you'll see that it's best to—"

"Wait, personal assurance?" said Matiz, interrupting the condolences she spent all day drafting. They went on for four minutes recounting Fortunato's decades of obstructionist escapades, celebrating his interferences with the company, ending with "Benito would want us to stand up and fight against magical development at the company with every fiber of our beings, starting tonight and ending never."

Derailed, she now had to listen to Adam's obstruction of her speech: "That's what you have to offer me? How is this personal? The Exequi didn't even take it upon himself to call personally."

"That won't be possible today, Matiz. I'm sorry. After the election, he'll call you as president, to express his gratitude. I'd also like to invite you to join the celebrations in the north tower, we expect to gather at first watch in the penthouse board room. Of course, if you plan to attend, we need to ask that you—"

"No," Adam interrupted. "Absolutely not. I asked for proof, not assurances. I need proof that  Fortunato was not assassinated to remove him from office on behalf of your vision for the company."

"This is proof," Portia asserted. "The boss man says it wasn't us. He didn't order the assassination."

"Are you telling me that the only thing that's changed since first light, the only difference since our conversation this morning, is that Justin Marius says it wasn't him? The only thing you did to uncover Fortunato's murderer was to call Justin Marius and ask if it was him? And with that assurance, I'll do everything Marius asks?"

"What proof do you want? It doesn't even make sense for our side to take out Fortunato." Damn, it was so hard to create her composure, and now she lost it.

"Take out? There you go again. A man is dead, and you're talking about his murder like it's a glitch in your play, or maybe a move with consequences you don't like right now, because I'm not going to do what you tell me to. Proof, Portia, would be the identity of the real murderer."

"Oh, well, is that all? The problem, Matiz, is we don't have time to detect, capture and prosecute Fortunato's murderer. One of the guardia saw the suspect. She reported a stranger running away down the hall and suddenly disappearing — not into a link, but just vanishing. She says it was a man, skinny, six-two and dark from behind, dressed in a dinner jacket. There, now you have the case file. All the information the guardia has. Do what you want with it. Oh, and the officer might have been lying, to seem like she was only slightly terrible at her job, rather than abhorrent."

Matiz sunk back in his desk chair and figuratively dug his heels in. "No, you do what you want with it. It's up to you to investigate who the murderer is and who he was working for. And whatever your findings, it is clear Fortunato died in the crossfire of your insane and bloody coup. This is out of your control, and a man died. Whether Marius pulled the trigger is irrelevant. This is your fault, and I'm not lifting a finger to help you or your movement. Did you say the killer disappeared, not through a link? How is that possible?"

Portia hardly heard him. Specific words faded to a homogenous hum where the tone was enough to know Matiz was lost.

"Which side has been developing that kind of magic in secret?" he asked. "Ours or theirs?"

"Theirs," said Portia, an offer of one last chance to save him. The realization that he knew too much crashed down on her, and it was mostly her fault that he knew it. 'Our side' had been developing all kinds of magic in secret. Knowing anything about it could really hurt the man if he tried to stand in Justin's way. "Come on, Matiz, it makes no sense. Our side developing cutting edge magic? Allowing its use to eliminate our own ally?"

"Be that as it may, I asked you for one thing, and one thing only. Benito Fortunato's murderer. That was my price. There's still a few hours before the election."

"Matiz, I'll try," said Portia. "There's something else, though. We determined you're the best person to speak with Novus Fortunato on our behalf." She wasn't finished yet, but Matiz was. "No," he said.

Flustered, Portia glanced down at her desk and grasped for words at the papers in front of her. She looked back up at Matiz and with a straight face she said, "Benito Fortunato would want us to continue to fight forward momentum at Constellation with every fiber of our beings, starting tonight and ending never."

The commlink flashed out of existence, leaving Portia alone in the silence of her office.

"Fine," she said. "I'll do that myself too."

Thank you for reading Stars Rise. The party will be starting up again shortly. Appetizers and cocktails will be served soon after hora octava. Let me know what you think of Portia's troubles!