Then my mind snapped back into function, I screamed, and I dragged myself over to Tarsem.
He was torn apart but not dead yet. I grabbed him and held him as his eyes searched around, looking for something to focus on. Finally he found me.
He said nothing—I don’t believe he could say anything at that point—but simply watched me looking at him, holding him in his last moments of life.
Then he stopped watching and left me.
As he did I became aware of the din and madness around me as representatives and their staffs climbed over each other trying to escape the Grand Assembly chamber. Then I became aware of Tarsem’s security staff swarming over me and him, pulling me off of him and dragging the both of us away, me presumably to safety, and Tarsem to oblivion.
* * *
“You need to be examined by a physician,” Oi said to me.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You’re not fine. You’re in shock and you’re yelling because you can barely hear. And you are covered in blood, Councilor. Some of it might actually be yours.”
We were in a secure room not far from the assembly chamber. I was surrounded by members of Tarsem’s security detail, who were no longer his security detail because they had somehow fundamentally managed to fail at their task. The anger I felt at that fact was growing within me; I held it down and looked at the security officer closest to me.
“Go fetch me a physician,” I said. “Preferably one familiar with Lalans.”
The security officer looked up at me. “Councilor, perhaps it would be better if you went to the hospital itself, once we’ve secured the area.”
“I don’t recall asking you for your opinion,” I said. “Do it. Now.”
The security officer scuttled off. I returned my attention to Oi. “How did you miss this?” I asked.
“I don’t have a good answer for you right now, Councilor,” Oi said.
“No, I don’t imagine you do. You don’t have a good answer to how you could have missed someone planning to assassinate the general.” I waved a bloody hand at the remaining security detail. “They don’t have a good answer, I’m sure, how someone slipped past them to place a bomb at the lectern. No one has a good answer for who is in charge of the Conclave right now. We are all without good answers for anything that actually matters right at this very moment.”
“What would you like me to do, Councilor?” Oi asked.
“I would like you to go back in time and to have done your goddamned job, Oi!” I said, and this time I was yelling not because I could not hear very well.
“When this is all over, if you want it, you will have my resignation on your desk,” Oi said.
I laughed, bitterly. “My desk,” I said.
“Yes, your desk,” Oi replied, forcefully. “And you’re wrong, Councilor. I don’t have a good answer for you about who killed General Gau. But I have a good answer for who is in charge of the Conclave. It’s you.”
“That was Tarsem’s job description, Oi. Not mine.”
“With due respect to the moment and your grief, Councilor, the general is dead. The position is vacant. And it needs to be filled, immediately.”
“And you don’t think that’s a thought that’s not already occurred to several dozen representatives?”
“I know it has,” Oi said. “I know that without even having to check with my analysts. And I know what an extended season of would-be General Gaus trying to claim his mantle would cost us.”
“You take the job, then,” I said. “You’re better qualified for it.”
“I’m not the right person for the job,” Oi said. “No one would follow me.”
“You have an entire directory of people who follow you.”
“They follow the job, Councilor. I don’t flatter myself that their loyalty extends to me.”
“What makes you think it would extend to me, then?” I asked, and then waved again to the security detail. “Or their loyalty? Or anyone’s?”
“Councilor, why do you think this security detail is here?” Oi asked. “This was General Gau’s detail. It’s yours now.”
“I don’t want the job.”
“Think of who does. Think of who will, once it occurs to them that it’s open.”
“So you would have me take the job simply to avoid something worse.”
“Yes,” Oi said. “Although that would not be my main motivation.”
“And what would be your main motivation?” I asked.
“To preserve the Conclave,” Oi said. It motioned out, toward the Grand Assembly chamber. “Unli Hado wants the position for his own personal ambition, as would a dozen other representatives. Prulin Horteen would take it to settle scores, as would another dozen representatives. Ristin Lause, were it offered to her, and it wouldn’t be, would take it out of the bureaucratic instinct to keep things running. None of them truly understand why the Conclave is more important than themselves or their immediate goal. In all three cases—in every case—it would end in ruin.”