7 — A Murder
Three months after Daelus began his delegated duties, something happened.
Early the previous night, Randall Cunningham, a well respected member of the delegation, was murdered; strangled to death. This was discovered when the perpetrator turned himself in. The murderer was described as being tall and lanky, and most importantly, immediately recognized as the delegate's own entourage.
Daelus found this perplexing, and immediately compelling.
Impressive and versatile as they were, entourage were dependent on their delegate. They needed instruction. They could not be spontaneous, nor act on impulse, nor passion. They didn’t think. They did not feel. They could react, but only in ways in which they had been preconditioned to react.
An entourage projection could be set in motion to perform a series of tasks without a delegate’s supervision or participation. They may also be given the ability to act reflexively; otherwise they wouldn't make good bodyguards.
With all of that in mind, one could imagine, with some horrible bad luck, an entourage behaving in a way that resulted in the delegate's own death. The logical explanation was that this entourage had been given open-ended instructions to kill a person fitting a certain description, one that could be imagined to resemble the delegate. He had simply failed to realize this, and had not excluded himself from consideration as a target.
It would be a stretch to call this a murder — more of an accidental death caused by poorly calibrated equipment — but many enjoyed hyperbole, so the term murder was being used.
The entire scenario could have been seen as a cautionary tale. Another delegate would soon cross over to resume the delegated duties of the deceased, and life would go on.
But things weren't that simple. The way that the entourage had turned itself in for the crime remained a sticky detail that defied explanation. It should have vanished instantaneously.
Not only that, but during the hours after turning itself in the entourage was seen reacting to its environment with uncanny lucidity for what should have been a marionette with no one at the strings.
Finally, the cherry on top, it then escaped from its cell, drawing on knowledge the delegate could not possibly have known before his demise.
As Daelus took in the news, he couldn’t stop thinking about what this meant. While the other delegates theorized and panicked or enacted elaborate plans to hunt down and capture the rogue puppet, Daelus' mind was set on an entirely different track.
“What do you think?” Daelus asked Grégoire.
Grégoire, like Johnathan, was a curious sort — far more than most in their society — and like Johnathan that curiosity was closely linked to what he was delegated to do: control an institute of science research. The actual role assigned to him was to keep a close eye on scientific progress and keep society consistent. The Benefactors disapproved of areas progress considered unnatural, or could risk destabilizing the social order, and it was Grégoire’s job to do the culling.
“I am still pondering,” the portly, bearded, bespeckled man replied, still in the process of reading the report Johnathan had prepared and disseminated about the event with his usual lightning-fast proficiency. From his tone it was clear that Grégoire was concentrating and would not speak again until asked another question.
Daelus had taken the initiative to contact Grégoire several weeks ago in the hopes of making some of the museum displays bear more accurate descriptions of many of the artifacts that Jossimer had procured.
These artifacts had been liberated from neighboring nations. The displays and the accompanying plaques were intended to present the peoples behind such artifacts as worthy of uplifting. The idea was that it would keep the population of the home nation enthusiastic about Jossimer’s endless military campaigns if they understood that his conquest was benefiting the peoples in those nations. Imagine the advancements and improvements to their lifestyles if our way of life was brought beyond their borders?
Daelus wanted his museum to also explain how that would be true. To that end, he wanted to draw a clear comparison between the crafting techniques of the displayed artifacts, and what was common locally. Reasons why the local methods were superior would then be articulated. Grégoire appeared as an ideal partner in this ambition, having what seemed to be an inexhaustible encyclopedic knowledge of such topics.
Grégoire had, at first, resisted the interaction, and dismissed the subject. This had lasted less than a minute, as his desire for breathless explanations of the history of certain techniques could have him rambling long into the night. Not long after the first few meetings, Grégoire began to invite Daelus to meet, curious to see which stories he could tell about the latest curiosity Jossimer had liberated.
That afternoon, the two of them sat in the same chamber that welcomed new delegates. It was said that the slain’s replacement would be brought up soon, so Daelus decided it wasn’t worth it to travel all the way back home, only to have to return hours later. The memory of Daelus’ welcome gathering was still fresh in his mind. He wasn't sure how he felt about being on the other side of the experience so soon.
After reading Johnathan’s report that morning — it had been personally delivered to Daelus, as a small perk of their friendship — Daelus had asked to meet with Grégoire as soon as possible to discuss the event. Grégoire was curious, so he came straight away.
Daelus pushed on. “The report doesn’t say anything about how he was using this entourage. Are you familiar with that at all? Anything peculiar?”
“Fully automated.” This topic seemed to activate Grégoire. He put the report down and leaned forward. “He and the projection were very often apart. Its predetermined routine was that of a mob enforcer. It made the rounds, collected the protection fees, and would only require additional instructions in the case of a collection gone bad. Jaegré—”
“Jaegré?”
“It's what the entourage called itself.”
A delegate naming their projections was not unusual, but Grégoire’s choice of words were.
“Curious…” Daelus said with deep contemplation. He knew they wouldn’t allow this killer of delegates to get away. If he couldn’t be imprisoned, he’d be eliminated.
It was likely that the delegation would send Kaite. She was called when they needed someone to disappear. She and Daelus had only ever interacted once. The memory of that encounter still stung, slightly.
Could he even be killed, though? An entourage could be forced into
demanifesting through violence. If enough damage was done it would become so out of sync with the delegates’ intentions that the projection would not be able to persist. But, if there was no longer a delegate?
Daelus pressed. “And we're sure it was his entourage? Couldn’t another delegate have just copied him? As a misdirect?”
“Oh, no, it was his, of that there’s no doubt. Randall was very boisterous about his affinity to the ability and very often called an audience when he had developed a new technique with Jaegré. We all bore witness to the thing’s development. Another among us wouldn’t be able to replicate it so perfectly, and it would take years to fine tune its behavior the way Randall had.”
“What if,” Daelus began, and then hesitated. He found that what he was about to ask was a question that had a hold on him. It had loomed large over his thoughts for some time. “What if it was all
just
Randall the entire time?”
“Explain?” Grégoire asked, lowering his glasses to the tip of his nose to look at Daelus.
“What if there was never
any
automation? What if there was no trick to Jaegré — it could have been simply Randall inside the entourage’s head the entire time, no? We are able to do that. I’ve done it.”
Grégoire made a face like he wanted to dismiss the idea, but his analytical mind couldn’t quite allow it. “Possible, surely, but then what had happened posthumously would be doubly inexplicable. How would Randall have continued to control Jaegré after death?”
“Ah, yes,” Daelus said, sheepishly. “That wouldn’t make any sense.”
“Further, what a waste of effort, of time,” Grégoire went on. “The purpose of the entourage ability is to allow us to be many places at once, to do many things at once. A fully automated entourage is the aim — several operating at once is the ideal. One that is under manual control at all times is nigh useless. In fact, I dare say that the Benefactors would consider it negligent — worthy of reprimand. A squandering of the delegate’s potential and a breach of their delegated duties. A perversion of the intended use of the gift.”
Daelus sunk into his chair, deeply embarrassed to have brought it up. He felt exposed, like at any moment he would be escorted somewhere dark to be punished for even suggesting the idea.
And yet, he couldn’t let it go. He didn’t feel ashamed to be curious, as he did not accept that it was
wrong
. He simply realized that he couldn’t be caught asking these things nor behaving this way. He would need to tread lightly.
Daelus also realized that he didn’t feel immediately in danger. In spite of the lecture, Grégoire did often bend the rules when it suited him. There was a certain safety in confiding in him — they’d be ne'er do wells together.
“Of course, certainly, and I agree completely,” Daelus began, hoping that the lie was unreadable. “So, Randall was without question an expert at automation. I suppose he kept notes? About the process?” Daelus knew writing anything down about the entourage ability was forbidden, but he trusted that Grégoire’s enthusiasm for knowledge would tempt him.
“Oh, I suppose he must have. Johnathan would know, and likely could get his hands on those notes before they’re destroyed. But you must wait your turn. I call first dibs!” Here, Grégoire grinned broadly. Daelus’ gamble had paid off — the two had become accomplices.
“Though, if memory serves,” the man continued, “didn't you say you had no interest in the ability? Couldn't get the knack for it? Threw in the towel?”
“I did say that,” Daelus replied slowly, considering his answer. Even if the notes didn’t contain the knowledge Daelus sought, it would certainly be far from useless. “Isn’t that all the more reason for me to desire a little extra instruction?”