01-25-2018, 10:13 AM
Oh, well that's okay then. The sarcasm armed her tongue but the words never left it. Brandon's cool stoicism did not suggest he would appreciatively receive her sharper side. Not that he did not deserve it. His words were wrapped in politic, the kind Edward used to calm the crowds demanding answers outside Westminster. Hollow words that promised much and delivered little the moment you unpicked their stitching to peer within. Just a pretty package.
"There's no school in Masiaka now.
"At the refinery the survivors ran to, Danjou took a risk. To get coverage and thus aid for Sierra Leone's plight, I think, and I suppose he was successful in that. But it came at a great cost; one he knew might need to be paid.
"There's no school in Masiaka now because there are no children."
They were talking about a man who allowed his own hand severed from his wrist because it served his purpose at the time. Reassured was the last thing she felt. Not just because she knew something of the sacrifices Jacques would make chasing the greater good, but because no man was above the law, and no accord could prevent justice. That Danjou would even have a say suggested a context she was unaware of. Though she could hazard a guess. And it chilled her.
He knew something.
No. He knew more than something; he knew where Jay was. And her primary concern was no longer the charges railed against him; it was no longer bail and lawyers and smoothing over a mess before it had a chance to escalate. It was a confessed channeling murderer caught between two powerful men.
It was what that smoke-screen covered. It was what that smoke-screen justified.
Was Jay even a registered citizen of the CCD?
But she doubted Brandon was going to tell her any more than he already had, and she had no leverage here to force more willing answers from his lips. At least no leverage she was willing to use, though Lawrence Monday's face did hover in the back of her mind. Threatening a scandal would only make an enemy though; one she was not yet prepared to make.
"It would reassure me more to know where he is."
There was more intensity to that than she had intended. More than she could explain or justify beyond qualifications of 'because he saved my life', which seemed poor reasoning considering he had been paid to do it. It stilled her for a moment, distance creeping in like fog on the horizon. She didn't care what Brandon thought, and if he truly had nothing to hide she was not asking for the earth. But it did concern her how vehemently she chased this.
Like if she could fix this it made amends for past failures.
"Forgive me, I hope you don't mind if I sit. I'm sure you've surmised by now that I've had a tumultuous night."
She lowered back down without awaiting permission, and with only the barest hint of a wince. Her foot did throb, but it was not unbearable. The weakness was calculated as much as it was for comfort. Easing the pressure, she slid her legs into a crossed position. Hands neatly entwined on her lap. They were at an impasse. He stood with the tolerance of a patient parent, expression neutral, and she had no way to gauge the thoughts within. Her gaze rose, the differentiation in height underlined and the confrontation diminished. Because even if they crossed swords, she was not looking for war.
"I'll tell you how I did handle the situation. I questioned the necessity of sedation and your men reluctantly stayed their hand. Let me remind you once more, he was severely injured at the time; he did not fight back. The paramedics treated him without issue and without threat. The last I saw, he was loaded into an ambulance on route to the hospital."
One word had rung clearer than the rest as Brandon expertly twisted the question against her. Criminal. Because she had mentioned nothing of that, at least pertaining to Nox's circumstances when he was found. It confirmed her suspicion that Brandon did know more than he was saying, but did nothing to ease her worries. Moscow was a large city, and she doubted he was made aware of every arrest. Even if he kept himself apprised on the activities of his more delinquent channeling citizens -- and she imagined he must -- it was unlikely most found his attention as quickly as the next day. Unless they were something significant.
Still, she did not call him up on it.
"So you sedate them, these criminals. And then what? Are they any less dangerous when they come round? Or perhaps they simply do not come round.
"Consider then that we are all loaded guns, and perhaps it would be prudent to drug and confine us all before we present a problem? Since man and weapon cannot be parted, and the potential lies in all of us. Though I understand there are those who feel that way already, and do not share your preference for non-lethal methods. I'd have thought you'd be rather more concerned about the fact a channeler was attacked openly on your streets."
She stopped, biting back the urge to continue in that sharp vein before the blade was turned back at her. He wouldn't care to hear himself criticised. Who would? But he asked, and she'd never been inclined to sugarcoat the truth. Instead she chose a less hostile path.
"I am not an enemy of necessity. Sometimes the path we must take is hard, and ugly. That's not my qualm here; do not misunderstand me in this. I was talking about prejudice and the readiness of your men to act upon it, not the method itself. Criminal or not, at the time he posed no threat."
Her gaze flickered momentarily to the man flanking Brandon's side. Because she doubted he had darts up his sleeve to subdue her should she prove a danger. Not that she could tell, of course, but it didn't take much guesswork to surmise that he had not been selected purely for his physique, or that meetings with young women usually required such protection even in these troubled times.
"We're not all blind to the gun, though. If your friend there had this whole room filled with shining threads, ready to detain me should I prove it necessary, am I right to think you would know? Could you stop it, too? If you chose?"
She didn't know the answer to that, but he would. The hint of a smile hovered again, but never took form. She tipped her shoulders instead, alleviating herself of the burden of concern. Ultimately these were not her problems. "We're wildcards. To each other as well as those to whom we are a mystery. You could snap my neck as soon as blink, I would warrant -- though I trust you not to do it. But the rest of us haven't had forty-odd years to learn this power. For us it's a Sickness that steals our children. It's the fear of men and women who cannot be held by cells and prisons. Who can decimate buildings with no more than an apparent thought, and bring our society to its knees in the process. And for those of us born with it? It's an uncontrolled instinct. Something unknown and frightening and sometimes dangerous -- both to us, and to those around us.
"Let that fear fester and a divide will grow.
"Let the people fear, and they will act upon it. Let them act upon it and where does the chaos end? People do stupid things when they're afraid. Channelers and non-channelers alike.
"Education is a greater tool than fear. Its very antithesis. I would have started there."
Hardly a revelation, really. Natalie was not a politician or a soldier. She did not yearn for power, or even for the great accolades her mother garnered in her humanitarian work. She was not a leader, nor even the greatest bastion for sound morals. She offered nothing but an unshy opinion and the rash confidence of one unafraid to speak it, even if it ended up burning her in the process. Ideological differences aside, he would hardly be swayed by a few pretty words. Likely he already twisted it to his own justifications and cast aside the pieces that did not fit. And she didn't care. She wasn't here to convince him. Doubtless he was not here to be convinced either.
Edited by Natalie Grey, Jan 25 2018, 10:17 AM.
"There's no school in Masiaka now.
"At the refinery the survivors ran to, Danjou took a risk. To get coverage and thus aid for Sierra Leone's plight, I think, and I suppose he was successful in that. But it came at a great cost; one he knew might need to be paid.
"There's no school in Masiaka now because there are no children."
They were talking about a man who allowed his own hand severed from his wrist because it served his purpose at the time. Reassured was the last thing she felt. Not just because she knew something of the sacrifices Jacques would make chasing the greater good, but because no man was above the law, and no accord could prevent justice. That Danjou would even have a say suggested a context she was unaware of. Though she could hazard a guess. And it chilled her.
He knew something.
No. He knew more than something; he knew where Jay was. And her primary concern was no longer the charges railed against him; it was no longer bail and lawyers and smoothing over a mess before it had a chance to escalate. It was a confessed channeling murderer caught between two powerful men.
It was what that smoke-screen covered. It was what that smoke-screen justified.
Was Jay even a registered citizen of the CCD?
But she doubted Brandon was going to tell her any more than he already had, and she had no leverage here to force more willing answers from his lips. At least no leverage she was willing to use, though Lawrence Monday's face did hover in the back of her mind. Threatening a scandal would only make an enemy though; one she was not yet prepared to make.
"It would reassure me more to know where he is."
There was more intensity to that than she had intended. More than she could explain or justify beyond qualifications of 'because he saved my life', which seemed poor reasoning considering he had been paid to do it. It stilled her for a moment, distance creeping in like fog on the horizon. She didn't care what Brandon thought, and if he truly had nothing to hide she was not asking for the earth. But it did concern her how vehemently she chased this.
Like if she could fix this it made amends for past failures.
"Forgive me, I hope you don't mind if I sit. I'm sure you've surmised by now that I've had a tumultuous night."
She lowered back down without awaiting permission, and with only the barest hint of a wince. Her foot did throb, but it was not unbearable. The weakness was calculated as much as it was for comfort. Easing the pressure, she slid her legs into a crossed position. Hands neatly entwined on her lap. They were at an impasse. He stood with the tolerance of a patient parent, expression neutral, and she had no way to gauge the thoughts within. Her gaze rose, the differentiation in height underlined and the confrontation diminished. Because even if they crossed swords, she was not looking for war.
"I'll tell you how I did handle the situation. I questioned the necessity of sedation and your men reluctantly stayed their hand. Let me remind you once more, he was severely injured at the time; he did not fight back. The paramedics treated him without issue and without threat. The last I saw, he was loaded into an ambulance on route to the hospital."
One word had rung clearer than the rest as Brandon expertly twisted the question against her. Criminal. Because she had mentioned nothing of that, at least pertaining to Nox's circumstances when he was found. It confirmed her suspicion that Brandon did know more than he was saying, but did nothing to ease her worries. Moscow was a large city, and she doubted he was made aware of every arrest. Even if he kept himself apprised on the activities of his more delinquent channeling citizens -- and she imagined he must -- it was unlikely most found his attention as quickly as the next day. Unless they were something significant.
Still, she did not call him up on it.
"So you sedate them, these criminals. And then what? Are they any less dangerous when they come round? Or perhaps they simply do not come round.
"Consider then that we are all loaded guns, and perhaps it would be prudent to drug and confine us all before we present a problem? Since man and weapon cannot be parted, and the potential lies in all of us. Though I understand there are those who feel that way already, and do not share your preference for non-lethal methods. I'd have thought you'd be rather more concerned about the fact a channeler was attacked openly on your streets."
She stopped, biting back the urge to continue in that sharp vein before the blade was turned back at her. He wouldn't care to hear himself criticised. Who would? But he asked, and she'd never been inclined to sugarcoat the truth. Instead she chose a less hostile path.
"I am not an enemy of necessity. Sometimes the path we must take is hard, and ugly. That's not my qualm here; do not misunderstand me in this. I was talking about prejudice and the readiness of your men to act upon it, not the method itself. Criminal or not, at the time he posed no threat."
Her gaze flickered momentarily to the man flanking Brandon's side. Because she doubted he had darts up his sleeve to subdue her should she prove a danger. Not that she could tell, of course, but it didn't take much guesswork to surmise that he had not been selected purely for his physique, or that meetings with young women usually required such protection even in these troubled times.
"We're not all blind to the gun, though. If your friend there had this whole room filled with shining threads, ready to detain me should I prove it necessary, am I right to think you would know? Could you stop it, too? If you chose?"
She didn't know the answer to that, but he would. The hint of a smile hovered again, but never took form. She tipped her shoulders instead, alleviating herself of the burden of concern. Ultimately these were not her problems. "We're wildcards. To each other as well as those to whom we are a mystery. You could snap my neck as soon as blink, I would warrant -- though I trust you not to do it. But the rest of us haven't had forty-odd years to learn this power. For us it's a Sickness that steals our children. It's the fear of men and women who cannot be held by cells and prisons. Who can decimate buildings with no more than an apparent thought, and bring our society to its knees in the process. And for those of us born with it? It's an uncontrolled instinct. Something unknown and frightening and sometimes dangerous -- both to us, and to those around us.
"Let that fear fester and a divide will grow.
"Let the people fear, and they will act upon it. Let them act upon it and where does the chaos end? People do stupid things when they're afraid. Channelers and non-channelers alike.
"Education is a greater tool than fear. Its very antithesis. I would have started there."
Hardly a revelation, really. Natalie was not a politician or a soldier. She did not yearn for power, or even for the great accolades her mother garnered in her humanitarian work. She was not a leader, nor even the greatest bastion for sound morals. She offered nothing but an unshy opinion and the rash confidence of one unafraid to speak it, even if it ended up burning her in the process. Ideological differences aside, he would hardly be swayed by a few pretty words. Likely he already twisted it to his own justifications and cast aside the pieces that did not fit. And she didn't care. She wasn't here to convince him. Doubtless he was not here to be convinced either.
Edited by Natalie Grey, Jan 25 2018, 10:17 AM.