Episode 124: Vetting Greg (Konrad)

This should be simple – Konrad just had the one key point to discuss with Greg – but he had the feeling it would be anything but simple.

To begin, Greg wasn’t where he was meant to be. Both conference rooms stood empty.

He verified with Aadya, via the dragons, that she had delivered Greg to one of the rooms. She assured him that she had.

This meant that Greg had taken it upon himself to wait elsewhere, knowing he would be looked for.

A survey of the grounds spotted him easily, leaned against a tree, his eyes on the gathering crowd of fairies as the opening of the festival approached. “I knew I’d find you alone eventually,” Konrad told Greg.

They faced each other.

Konrad would prefer not to make a scene here. He worried that Greg might not move, merely for the sake of proving that Konrad couldn’t make him.

Greg wore a blank expression briefly and then his eyes settled into recognition. “Is this the part where you kill me for talking to the butterflies?” he asked. From what Konrad could discern, it was more greeting than mockery.

Konrad was also impressed that deaged, and without wings, he still was recognizable to Greg. Some of his best men hadn’t recognized him today, but Greg, a near stranger, had.

Still, he had a job to do. Intimidation to accomplish, against the backdrop of his emotions about Aadya.

“You were supposed to meet me in a conference room,” he admonished.

“Down here was more interesting,” Greg said, casually, as though Konrad had no sword and no reason to be angry. Konrad hid a slow smile; it was the sort of thing Nell might have done.

“I’ve seen at least a dozen butterflies in the past five minutes,” Greg added. Now he goaded; earlier had been friendly, but this was an attempt to see how Konrad would react, whether he might induce Konrad to respond with anger.

“Did any of them warn you I was coming?” he asked Greg with an amicable tone.

With men like Greg, nothing worked half so well as calm.

Sure enough, Greg used his upper back to push himself away from the tree, a smile written across his face. “You must be feeling better. What do you want me to tell you?”

This would be a challenge, in a way; it was clear that Greg was accustomed to taking charge of situations, but Konrad needed him to understand there were rules which he must follow in this kingdom, specifically with regards to dating Aadya.

He drew on a sternness which he didn’t feel. “I’d like to know what you think you’re doing, entertaining the idea of a queen, of a kingdom you know nothing about.” He began the walk towards the palace. With any luck, Aadya would see them walking, relaxed, and be unconcerned. “Do you prefer one of the conference rooms you’ve seen already, or one on the ground floor?”

“Whatever’s easiest for you,” Greg said. “I’d hate to cause problems. I’m just a very cooperative guy, not entertaining the idea of anything.”

His statement reminded Konrad that he had two points of interest to address with Greg.

“I’m happy to hear that you’re cooperative,” he told him. “That will make this much simpler.”

As it seemed that Greg had no preference about where the interview took place, Konrad opted for the dungeon. It had more security cameras and sent a more intense message than either of the conference rooms.

“Before you get started on what is probably an impressive list of questions,” Greg said while they walked. His eyes looked around, alert and attentive to more than the average man. “This is only temporary. I’ll probably stay around because my son’s here, but I’m not serious about the queen.”

Konrad wondered whether he was in denial or merely hadn’t gotten there yet.

“She needed a date,” Greg continued, “I needed new clothes…everything just fell into place from there.”

“Is that right,” Konrad murmured. He knew for Nell, at least, Aadya finding Greg marked the end of an opportunity to absorb her into their own relationship. Nell had fallen for her, hard. For his part, Konrad had as well.

The idea of this stranger, thinking he knew her, understood her, after less than a full day.

And yet he must, because Neither Meldrick nor Drey nor Konrad had ever elicited this level of happiness from Aadya.

Konrad opened and sealed the series of doors between the dungeon and the rest of the palace. Once inside, but not deep into the dungeon where cells were, he led Greg to his office.

He poured two drinks and passed one of them to Greg, before he sat in his wheeled chair and offered Greg the folding metal one Spence typically occupied.

When Greg was seated, Konrad asked him, “Let’s start at the beginning; how did you find the king?”

Greg eyed the bank of television screens which displayed the image from each camera, on a rotating cycle. Scipio, the resident technology expert, had helped him to set up a high-tech system a few years ago.

Greg whistled. “That is a lot of surveillance cameras,” he observed. “Who set up your system?”

Konrad took a long swill of his drink. It was important, in building trust with Grey, that the man not be aware of Konrad’s developed resistance to truth serum.

“A team of people,” he told Greg. Vague, give the impression that it wasn’t down to one person’s skills and knowledge base. It shouldn’t be down to one person. They needed to send a fleet of students to learn this sort of thing. Konrad knew basic maintenance, nothing further. “We try to integrate technology and magic from every realm.”

“That’s good,” Greg said. He hadn’t had any of the truth serum yet. “I like that you work so hard to keep her safe.”

Konrad took another sip, pointedly. “Flattery won’t work here. How did you find the king to begin with?” he asked again.

Greg shrugged his shoulders. “We just happened to be in the same tea shop when I upset him. He’s a very touchy guy.”

Konrad happened to know which things did and did not upset Meldrick.

He also had no idea what Greg would be doing in a tea shop halfway around the world from his home. Bits of his explanation were missing, such as the majority of it.

“He’s a generally calm man,” Konrad pointed out. “Either you exaggerate his reaction or you were exceptional in some way, to elicit his anger.”

A pleased smile crept across Greg’s face at his use of the word exceptional. At last, he took a drink of the truth serum.

Konrad smiled as well. Perhaps flattery would work here after all, so long as it went in the right direction.

“I wanted to annoy him,” Greg declared. “Annoying people are memorable and I needed him to remember me so he’d help me.”

“On the quest for your sons?” he followed up.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he confirmed.

The unfortunate trait of truth serum was that, while it guaranteed honesty, it didn’t always guarantee openness. Those like Greg, who were accustomed to the art of secrecy seemed to have a natural resistance to the substance.

It was no matter; Konrad was ready for the first of the two important issues. “How long have you been an alcoholic?” he asked Greg.

Alcoholism was less common among fairies. Rather, it was equally common, but fairies were less likely to suffer the ill effects of the disease. Nevertheless, Konrad recognized the symptoms.

“What?” Greg asked, perhaps too a bit too shocked for the reaction to be genuine.

Konrad leaned forward in his swivel chair. “I’ve reviewed Apa’s memories of your efforts to steal the eggs, as well as some of the barn and garden security footage.” He tapped a television screen, where he’d freeze-framed an image of Greg in the garden shortly before Aadya hugged him. “Before Aadya deaged you, you had liver disease,” he accused. “Your skin was mildly jaundiced, and a man with anything else that would cause that isn’t likely to be going on any quests.”

That was a bluff. Konrad suspected there were other causes of jaundice which allowed for a high level of function. He was banking on Greg lacking the knowledge to argue.

He did argue, but not in the way that Konrad expected: “I’m Polish, with a Russian heritage. There’s a reason Americans refer to us as yellow.”

“Is that why you’re yellow now?” Konrad asked him, pointedly.

“I’m not yellow now,” Greg argued.

Konrad smiled, as he watched Greg’s expression fall to one of confusion. “What did you do to me?” Greg asked. “What kind of magic is that?”

It was none of his business magic, the best sort. Konrad stood. He needed Greg to move further from the door before he continued the remainder of this conversation. In the meantime, he continued to pursue the matter of alcohol and addiction.

“You’ll stop with the alcohol, he informed Greg. “I won’t allow someone in your situation to date the queen, or be seen in public with the queen. The resident doctor has a medicine he can give you to help with the symptoms of withdrawal.

Greg wasn’t angry as Konrad anticipated. If anything, he was amused. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t drink,” he said with some force.

Konrad had encountered this same phenomenon with Niels; the belief that rights in Babylon were universal to all realms. It struck Konrad as absurd, given that those same rights weren’t even universal across Babylon.

“Then you don’t get to date the queen,” he said in his patient voice. “It’s simple: You can either date the queen or you can have alcohol.”

Nell had shared enough of Greg’s history for him to at least understand the root cause of the drinking in his case. It was defensible, in its way, but it would not serve any good for the kingdom, if Aadya’s new husband liked his liquor too much.

“I’m not dating the queen,” Greg responded, with the smugness of a man who has won more arguments by derivative logic than by common sense. “I’m dating Aadya.”

“At the moment,” Konrad told him gently, “it is impossible to separate the two. If that changes, and you choose to hurt her, you’re welcome to take up the old habit again. Until then, choose.”

He waited, expectant.

Greg looked at the wall a moment. His eyes strayed to the bank of television screens, one of which showed the final preparations for the festival, Aadya speaking with Meldrick and Giana.

“Go on,” Konrad urged. “You can see better from this chair.”

Greg moved to the wheeled chair further from the door and Konrad took the the folded metal seat, positioning himself between Greg and the door.

“You say the doctor has medicine?” Greg asked finally. “The kid or his dad?”

Konrad expired in relief. He hadn’t been certain, despite the dragon, what Greg would choose.

“Either, although you may enjoy a chat with his father. His name is Zero.” He looked for the recognition that would confirm Nell’s suspicions that Greg was interested in stealing from Zero; sure enough, it was there in the way he seemed to tuck his enthusiasm away.

Fair enough. It gave Konrad an opportunity to watch how Greg thought, and it gave everyone an opportunity to test Zero’s defenses.

“I’ll be sure to find him today,” Greg said.

It would be difficult for him at the festival. All that summer wine. Even the older children drank the less potent stuff. Konrad had a suspicion Merlyn was going to try to get ahold of some this year. He had another suspicion, stronger still, that Robert would help him in this endeavor.

“Good,” he said to Greg. “One final thing…”

Greg shook his head, amused. “I don’t have any other vices for you to fix.”

“I was under the impression you had a penchant for thieving,” Konrad teased. “No, the final thing concerns the doctor’s son, Spaden. Specifically, your encounter with him in the barn.”

“Yes,” Greg said. “He was…very helpful. I’ll have to thank him.”

“Helpful?” Konrad pushed. He slid his chair closer to Greg’s. “Is that why you assaulted him?”

“I did it to teach him a lesson,” Greg said. Annoyed. Konrad recalled his earlier comment about annoying people being memorable and smiled.

“What lesson is that?” he asked. “What did you assume he needed to learn?”

“Respect for adults.” Greg was clearly remorseless. No amount of simple logic would get to him. Alright. Konrad stretched his arm back and closed, locked the door. He saw Greg’s eyes follow his movements, but he was skilled at concealing whatever anxiety he felt.

“What about respect for children?” he asked Greg. “I have no doubt he saw traits you could improve on, yet he did not take it upon himself to educate you.”

Greg said nothing. He folded his hands across his lap, as though he was calm, but Konrad could see the whites of his nail beds where he pressed his fingers into himself to contain his frustration.

“Am I memorable yet?” Konrad goaded.

“Is that your goal?” Greg said. He released his hands, with a laugh. “I think you’re pretty memorable.”

“Good,” he said. He looked at Greg. He didn’t much care to do this, but he needed to drive the lesson home.

“Anything else?” Greg asked. “Or am I allowed to go to the festival?”

Konrad nearly laughed again. Oh, he would be good for Aadya. All that energy and intensity, like a living ball of lightning. Pushing rather than backing down, exploring and prodding with his every word and action.

He could see why the dragon had preceded his arrival.

Still, the lesson.

He drew in a long breath and stood, hands on the drawstring of his pants. He leaned over Greg in an ominous, predatory way. “You shouldn’t assault someone unless you’re prepared to deal with the consequences.”

Greg used his feet to back the wheeled chair away from Konrad, his eyes on the door. No doubt he’d already hatched some sort of plan to escape or talk his way out of this.

Konrad stood upright, and laced his voice with disgust and disappointment. “It’s not pleasant, is it?” he demanded. “Don’t assault another member of this house again, especially not a child, or you will find yourself in the prison.”

He handed Greg a vial with the serum to release him from honesty. He certainly didn’t want Greg to be open and revelatory at the festival. “This will allow you to stop being honest.”

“Thank you,” Greg grumbled.

“No drinks,” Konrad reminded him.

Greg saluted him, of all possible unexpected responses, and left.

He walked with deliberate slowness out of the dungeon, a clear message that Konrad didn’t scare or upset him, and Konrad laughed again.

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