Глава 12

Doctor of Rhodes Island, do you like your job?

Yes.;......;No.

Well. It seems you believe you're doing something meaningful.

Does the question need such protracted thought to answer?

Hah. So you have grander schemes than your current cause.

Regardless, I can't say I like mine.

Nobody's born in love with all the jockeying and maneuvering. I know I wasn't.

If it was possible, I'd use my noble name to buy a big plot of land in some far-flung county and while away my afternoons by the fireplace.

With a small tuskbeast to keep, ideally, and a forest behind the manor, for walks, and pondering questions of literature and poetry and such.

I'm ashamed to say, I'm a lousy poet. Sometimes I get some practice works of mine published in the Londinium Daily's literary supplement.

The man before you fiddles with his hat, almost visibly embarrassed.

The critics take no notice, but it sends me over the moons.

Still, we know that's not an easy life to make real. The ideal never is.

This is the age we've been cast into. All we can do is act in the way it educates us to.

Tell me, who was here just now?

A Rhodes Island operator.;The owner and doorman of the hotel.

You know who I mean, Doctor of Rhodes Island.

How about this? We can make a deal on the side.

You bring that operator of yours out of this hotel, and continue on with your mission as previously discussed.

Then once it's done, I'll give you and Her Royal Highness Alexandrina a referral to the Duke.

Not as a pawn or a hostage, but as a guest and a friend.

We're worth working closer with.

You can be assured, to forever honor her commitments is a tenet of Her Ladyship's.

You're more interested in a Victorian than a Sarkaz.

Of course. We're in Victoria, after all.

Don't be fooled by her appearances. Do you really think this plate is no more than a lovable little Sarkaz-built prison cell?

I don't think this place is <i>lovable.</i>

Fine. Miserable, then. Suit yourself.

While you're occupied with proclaiming yourselves the royal heirs apparent to Victoria and giving the Infected their jabs, I'll be busy, anyhow.

There are common Londinium folk in torment here, but those aside, there are great numbers of—

People taking care to cover their tracks. People with ulterior motives.

The Duke I serve wishes sincerely that Victoria regains its glory after it strides over the coals, but some aren't envisaging the same thing.

I have to root them out. It's another part of my work.

While saving the citizens here is nothing to do with you?

Let me guess—you're ready to pull from the textbook to criticize me.

So. No. It is something to do with me. I pray wholeheartedly that every person may live in peace and good health.

But it's not possible, is it?

Some people can cling to the now, tweaking every little thing by themselves, but some have weightier callings to undertake, even if it's not what they wish for.

Such as... seeking a future where a nation can find its footing.

I respect the former type, but all the same, I hope you wouldn't reject the latter.

Every duke could claim the same thing.

They all think they're seeking a future for the nation.

That's the source of the disaster Victoria's in now.

—I won't deny it.

Some superficials would say the dukes are merely contesting over authority and advantage. It appears you're not one of them, Doctor of Rhodes Island.

Authority is only a means, and advantage is only a tool.

What the dukes are truly vying over are the qualifications to lead this country into the future.

Victoria has been dust-laden for long enough.

And the Sarkaz will be the sandpaper that wipes Victoria clean. With some polishing, our nation will shine with glory again.

You really are a lousy poet, Mr. 'Trilby Asher.'

I see you're finally here, Miss Ines.

I thought I wouldn't catch you in time.