Equations of Corruption
It is just a ledger.
There are names, dates, notations, amounts of payments, amounts in arrears, accounts payable and receivable - in short, precisely what a ledger should contain. Not much is coded in the ledger and the code that is there is not so cryptic that it cannot be readily deciphered. It was in the lockbox left to me by Ibrahim, the large southern man I first encountered at the party for Bonnane. After the news of two more dead in the ranks of the Magisterial Offices, I was compelled to finally look inside the box. I wonder now what, if anything, I might have done. I wonder if I would have done anything. I think, perhaps, I should say something to the others that are named in this ledger. I do not think it is necessary, however, with Bonnane and the two that followed him into the City of Dust already expired. It does not take a mathematical genius to sort out the equation. Someone, an individual or a collection of individuals, has taken exception to the conduct of a select group that, unfortunately, happens to be counted among my peers. One would hope those that have this coming to them know precisely who they are.
It would beg the question 'why?' on several levels. Why was the attempt made on my life? If, of course, it was truly an attempt at all. Why was I given a front row seat to the execution of one Magistrate and what appears to be a guidebook to the next in line to fall? I have some of those answers. I have had them for some time. At least, I think I understand. The weather in Ar is regarded as temperate, but when it rains, it pours. Like any other city, great or small, the detritus, blood and filth accumulates in our gutters. Something has to wash it all away.
Coincidentally, just a few evenings prior, I spoke with my own provocateur. She has made progress and she, too, has a list of names, but I do not know if this list of names coincides with those in the ledger provided by Ibrahim. I will have to meet with her, speak with her in confidence. Something tells me this is beyond the scope of my Office, but something greater tells me it is not beyond the domain of my Citizenship.
There are names, dates, notations, amounts of payments, amounts in arrears, accounts payable and receivable - in short, precisely what a ledger should contain. Not much is coded in the ledger and the code that is there is not so cryptic that it cannot be readily deciphered. It was in the lockbox left to me by Ibrahim, the large southern man I first encountered at the party for Bonnane. After the news of two more dead in the ranks of the Magisterial Offices, I was compelled to finally look inside the box. I wonder now what, if anything, I might have done. I wonder if I would have done anything. I think, perhaps, I should say something to the others that are named in this ledger. I do not think it is necessary, however, with Bonnane and the two that followed him into the City of Dust already expired. It does not take a mathematical genius to sort out the equation. Someone, an individual or a collection of individuals, has taken exception to the conduct of a select group that, unfortunately, happens to be counted among my peers. One would hope those that have this coming to them know precisely who they are.
It would beg the question 'why?' on several levels. Why was the attempt made on my life? If, of course, it was truly an attempt at all. Why was I given a front row seat to the execution of one Magistrate and what appears to be a guidebook to the next in line to fall? I have some of those answers. I have had them for some time. At least, I think I understand. The weather in Ar is regarded as temperate, but when it rains, it pours. Like any other city, great or small, the detritus, blood and filth accumulates in our gutters. Something has to wash it all away.
Coincidentally, just a few evenings prior, I spoke with my own provocateur. She has made progress and she, too, has a list of names, but I do not know if this list of names coincides with those in the ledger provided by Ibrahim. I will have to meet with her, speak with her in confidence. Something tells me this is beyond the scope of my Office, but something greater tells me it is not beyond the domain of my Citizenship.
No comments:
Post a Comment