Chapter 30 - Monkey Business

It had been two days since the first session of the Panel of Peers[1], and Myria had found the wait tiresome. Hardlee had explained that they had likely spent the time discussing both his and Slant's opening arguments. Finally, the third morning, he had arrived at the hotel with Cheery bearing word that Myria's presence had been requested. "They simply wish you to answer a few questions. With me present, of course. And after that, both I and Slant will be able to ask you follow-up questions if we feel the panel didn't bring out a particular point."

Leaving Cheery outside to trade insults with the Palace Guards, Hardlee and Myria reached the atrium to the hall, where Myria paused. She was hesitant to ask the question, because she suspected she already knew the answer, but…

"It is my understanding, that it is common practice to discuss potential questions with your own counsel before such an event?"

Hardlee shook his head. "Maybe so, but I prefer not. Just answer their questions truthfully. If you get in a bind, look over at me and I'll try to bail you out."

"But, Mr. Hardlee, what if I know something that might be important, and because you do not ask for the information you are unaware of it? What if the opposing counsel brings it out before you can?"[2]

"Bah. How should I know what might be important, and what is just extraneous information that would distract us? Besides," he removed his glasses and began polishing them vigorously, "as an attorney, I have survived on the premise that practically nothing the opposing counsel says has any bearing on the case at hand." He laughed, but Myria could not see what was so amusing. "Are you ready?" He gestured toward the door to the Chamber of Rats.

"I… feel very unsettled."

"That's just nerves."

She considered. "Yes, I believe it does involve involuntary nerve impulses."

There was a long pause as Hardlee looked at her carefully. "Can you not do that after we go through those doors?"

"Do what?"

"Talk like that."

"I am not sure. I believe it depends on which aspect of my speech you refer to."

"Well try. And remember. When someone asks you a question, you answer only the question, with as few words as possible. Got it? If I want more information, I'll ask for it. If old "Deadwood" wants more information, he'll have to work for it. But do not lie. That would invalidate the entire proceedings and look very bad for you.

"But, is not omission a form of lying?"

"Absolutely not. And try to relax. At first they will just want to meet you and put you at ease. These are your Peers, not magistrates, so it's likely to be informal. But don't be fooled into believing they actually like you just because they are polite. Understand?"

"I believe so."

"Good. Let's go."

Myria's first reaction upon entering the room was an intense desire to empty her stomach contents.

It was not the rat motif. Though the images were everywhere.

Nor was it the sight of the panel members. She barely noticed them at first.

It was the axe. A very large axe. Imbedded firmly in the conference table.

"Myria, you look like you've seen a ghost." Hardlee hissed. "What is it?"

"It is the… axe. I have had quite negative experiences involving… axes."[3]

The human male peer, who could only be Lord Selachii, cleared his throat, drawing her attention. "Ah, Lady LeJean. I must apologize for the… barbarity of the Patrician's little décor. I am as incensed as you. I have protested several times that it sets entirely the wrong tone during meetings." He looked at the axe sourly. "Unfortunately Vetinari will have his little jokes."

"I… thank you, my lord. I do find it quite disturbing."

"Indeed. We shall give you time after the introductions to collect your wits, madam."

"Thank you, my Lord Selachii, I presume?"

"Indeed." Selachii smiled, causing his rather impressive mustache to rise, apparently in an attempt to hide inside his likewise rather impressive nostrils. "It is a pleasure to meet such a lovely lady, and obviously one of," he cast what might have been a disapproving glance at Lady Sybil, "delicate constitution. I would wish we could have met under other circumstances."

Myria found herself warming slightly, though the gleam of light on sharp metal in the center of the conference table kept vying for her attention out of the corner of her vision.

"Hmph. Don't mind Albert, madam. He's a hopeless flirt, though harmless even so." The female peer interjected. Selachii's face pinched slightly at her remarks, but Myria wasn't sure what that signified. Myria turned to the speaker, and found her to be a woman, certainly, but far from delicately built. She made the obvious guess. "And you must be Lady Ramkin-Vimes?"

"Please, call me Sybil."

"I am not sure it would be appro-"

"Hogwash. Why we are practically friends already, since you have become well acquainted with my husband."

"Yes, my… Miss Sybil. Commander Vimes was most kind, even when the execution of his duty was unpleasant."

"That's my Sam. And don't I know it, too." She gestured to her right. "And have you met the Librarian?"

Myria turned to the third member of the panel, immediately remembering what Jessica had told her previously about the University Librarian. Observing him quietly for a moment, she mused aloud before she could stop herself. "Hmm… it appears that my friend Jessica was wholly mistaken. You are not, in fact, a monk-"

"Don't say it!" Lady Sybil's eyes were wide, and Lord Selachii looked poised to crawl under the table.

Myria turned to Lady Sybil, then back to the Librarian, clearly puzzled. "Why should I not properly identify this individual as a member of the genus Pongo, species appearing to be agataeus?"

"Ook!"

Myria frowned, and based on intonation hazarded a guess. "You are welcome?" The Librarian nodded vigorously. "Although I must say am not aware of previous instances of the Great Agataean Orang Utan holding administrative posts at Universities."

"Ookeek." He raised his shoulders, in a passable substitute for a shrug.

"Yes, there is indeed, a first time for everything that occurs. Of this I am well aware. It is a pleasure to meet you."

The Librarian likewise found himself pleased to find at least one entity that did not require an education on ape etiquette at first meeting. However, he also found himself slightly puzzled. The Myria person certainly looked like a human, but there was definitely something odd about her. This bore further investigation.[4]

Lord Selachii again cleared his throat. The man seemed in a perpetual state of vox interruptus. "Please do feel free to take a few moments to collect yourself, madam. We are still waiting for Mister Slant to arrive." Whereupon, Hardlee took her by the arm and maneuvered her to the far corner of the room.

"That went better than I expected," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

I fail to see how it could have gone worse than you expected, Myria thought, considering your philosophy regarding expectations.But she didn't see the point in saying so out loud.

Hardlee regarded her carefully for a few seconds. "Ah, you are learning."

"I am sorry?"

"About the first rule. You remember what that was?"

"I believe it was-"

"Answer the question I asked you, not the question you wanted to answer."

"I am attempting to answer the question."

Hardlee shook his head. "No, you are not. I made a statement first, but I asked a question that only required a yes or a no, and you attempted to answer with an essay."

"I see. I am sorry, I did not-"

"Stop right there. Now you're violating Rule Number Two. Don't volunteer information or explain yourself unless they ask for an explanation!" He hissed.

Myria sighed. This is going to be difficult, if not impossible.

There was the sound of Slant entering the room behind them. "There's old Tinderbox. Let's get started, shall we?"

Myria thought carefully. "No?"

"Now you're learning. But that was the wrong answer."

Three hours later, Myria was exhausted, which made no sense at all. She had barely exerted herself physically, but her body insisted it had been put through an extremely trying experience. Her back ached. Her limbs felt oddly light and heavy at the same time. And her head seemed to contain a fog.

It was, she decided, exactly like being questioned. And it was truly horrible.

It wasn't that they were rude. Even Mister Slant had been coldly polite, and Lord Selachii had generally been pleasant. Lady Sybil appeared to show warmth and even empathy.

The Librarian hadn't really asked any questions, and at times seemed more interested in the fruit bowl than the proceedings, but he didn't throw any fruit peelings at her.[5]

No, the horrible part was the internal war she experienced with each question. Every. Single. Question… each one represented a battle between the part of her trying to follow Hardlee's advice, and the part that wanted, desperately, to explain herself. Not just to explain herself, part of her brain wanted to 'spill her guts' as Jessica termed it. And she knew that urge was stupid. How could that part of her brain desire to do something so stupid? Was it damaged somehow? It was… it was like watching a spinning set of blades, mesmerized, and feeling the intense urge to reach out and touch it… even knowing that doing so would result in being short a digit.

But she managed, barely, for most of the meeting, to both answer the questions and not lie through some verbal gymnastics. For example, with answers like:

-"I am Lady Myria LeJean."

-"Morporkian is not my native language. I also speak Genuan of course. But Morporkian is practically my first language."

-"I have no living family in Genua."

-"I have travelled for much of my life."

-"I brought the gold with me. I have never used a bank before."

The difficult question had come, surprisingly, from Lady Sybil.

"Sam told me that the gold was inside the flagstones of the floor, which seems impossible. How did you manage it?"

The question had come like a hammerblow, and she could feel her mouth opening, the answer forming even as part of her screamed at the other part to not answer.

"I OBJECT!"

Myria turned in shock to find it was, not Mister Hardlee, but Mister Slant who had raised the objection.

This makes no sense. Her whirling brain tried to take that information and fit it into one of several boxes she had been constructing in her head to put human behavior into. This particular bit seemed to have far too many corners and bits sticking out, and no matter how she spun it around, it would not be filed away properly. She looked helplessly at Mister Hardlee for an explanation.

Hardlee stood, mouth agape for a moment. Then his mouth snapped shut and worked. When he finally spoke, it was as if each word was a struggle. "I…" he swallowed and seemed about to be sick. "agree with opposing counsel. I would like some time to confer with my client regarding this question."

Lady Sybil looked at Slant and Hardlee suspiciously. "Hmph. Well this must be a first. And you, young man, look like you just ate a live toad. Perhaps you would like a break? I could certainly do with one and I am sure it is mealtime for baby Sam." She turned to the other two peers. "How about you two?"

"Ook."

"I agree."

Sybil nodded. "Very well, how about we pick back up after the noon meal?"

As soon as they were outside the room, and outside Slant's earshot, Hardlee turned on Myria. "What did she mean the gold was inside the flagstones?"

"What she said was accurate."

Hardlee stared at her like she had grown tentacles on her forehead. "That's impossible!"

Myria shrugged and shook her head sadly. "It is not."

Hardlee spun around, paced a few steps, then spun back. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Myria felt her hands tighten. Is he testing me? Or has he truly forgotten? Or is he simply lying to himself? She gritted her teeth but got the answer out. "Because you would not allow me to do so! You insisted that I not volunteer any information."

"Oh. Right. Well sometimes it works better than others."

His admission caught Myria by surprise. "I see. Yes. But… why did Mister Slant object, if he knew it was impossible?"

Hardlee rolled his eyes, some of his sarcasm recovered. "Because it is impossible! He doesn't know how you did it, and he knows that Rust can't answer the question either. He's afraid that either you would able to answer the question, which would shoot his argument all to hell, or that they would ask the same question of Rust, and he can't answer it either. He wasn't willing to take the risk."

"I…. see." Myria turned this over and over in her head, and had to admit that it did make a sort of sense. She could sense Hardlee doing the same.

Finally he continued in a quieter, queer sort of tone. "You… really put gold inside flagstones?"

Myria sighed. "Yes, Mister Hardlee."

"Can you demonstrate it for the panel?"

"I cannot."

"We're doomed."

"I had believed that to already be a given."

"Yeah, but now we're really doomed." He heaved a deep sigh himself. "Let's go eat something."

[1] Or, as Jessica had begun calling it, the Nexus of Nobs. And no, Myria had not found it amusing.

[2] Such as, for example, the facts that she was not human, had conspired to destroy all life as we know it, and had already left behind a body count / dust pile of Auditors and humans that would have impressed General Tacticus. You know, trivial stuff.

[3] For those who have not read "Thief of Time" by Terry Pratchett, one of the other Auditors-turned-human became very handy with using an axe to enforce his authority. It wasn't pretty.

[4] Translation: Ook. Ookook. Ookeekook.

[5] Slant on the other hand had been the target of two orange peels, a banana peel, and a near miss by a coconut halfshell. Myria considered that encouraging.