“I cannot be so in error in my calculations. You clearly understand our speech, and yet you act as if you do not, nor can I determine the pattern nor point of this behavior. You are not a Chimera, but somehow the Chimerae take you for one. This is a paradox, since the Chimera are well known for their race pride, and their deadly intent toward any who claim a genetic heritage above proper privilege and rank. I deliberately drew back the Followers and left the Chimerae free to kill you when you went by stealth to the dig site, but the Chimerae did not carry through as expected. But neither could a Chimera of ordinary intelligence be deceived on this point.”

Menelaus said, “That is easily explained. I am a Chimera from a period when the Eugenics Board attempted several novel experiments, including mixing surviving dawn-age gene groups into the bloodlines. It was thought that by taking the strains from several famous ancient mathematicians, we could breed for someone able to understand the lost and ancient sciences of the Giants. My family was one of those academic breeds. There were some irregularities in my cocktail, so I don’t look much like a normal Chimera. Genetically, I am a sport or mutant.”

Illiance nodded. “That is certainly a clever explanation, and it fits many of the facts in the pattern of data. I am impressed with the workmanship of the falsehood.”

“Thanks.”

“I suppose you can also explain away the appearance of intermittent acts of genius on your part by saying this is due to the presence of ancient genework from these dawn-men mathematicians, who were much advanced in intelligence?”

Menelaus drew himself up, “Why, Preceptor Illiance! Are you suggesting that, after Preceptor Yndech commanded me to eschew deception, I would do anything else?”

“I am Invigilator Illiance now. I was demoted.”

“Not if you go tell Ull you have proof that Larz wasn’t lying, and that Rada Lwa confirms his story.”

“Who are you?”

“Who do you think I could be? An ugly Nymph? A hairless Hormagaunt? A big Locust? A small Giant? No, strike that last suggestion. I cannot be from before the Chimera Age, can I? Not if I know enough to pass for one.”

Aanwen said in singsong Intertextual, “I theorize that this is one of the servants of the Judge of Ages.”

3. Lack of Caution

Aanwen continued: “He is Tomb Guardian, a Maltese Knight, and his purpose is to preserve the integrity of the Tombs.”

Illiance answered: “Unlikely. His coffin was found among the others, indiscriminate, and in the stratum expected for interments of circa A.D. 5290. Were he a Knight Hospitalier, where is his equine and equipage?”

Aanwen: “Note that he became violent when and only when the coffin equipment was being used to torment a relict: note the correlative that a Hospitalier would have a moral obligation to protect all clients. This theory accounts for his skill at empty-handed combat, and also for his abnormal proficiency in cryotechnology.”

Illiance tilted his ear as if listening, but did not take his eyes from Menelaus. “I am perturbed at your lack of caution. He understands our speech, and he controls the coffin weapons, and has already shown an ability to defeat our personal aggressive attempts. Your words, if selected with less than perfect caution, will cause him to attack us—is that not so, Sterlingas Anupsu-phalangetor?”

Menelaus stared at him blankly. “Come again? Did you say my name?”

Aanwen said. “Draw your weapon when I draw mine. Aim for his eyes, and I will aim for his lower legs. The beams will be undiffused by the tent material.”

Illiance did not reach for his pistol, but instead he closed his eyes and drew in a breath through his nose and breathed out through his mouth, a long, slow breath. He did this a second and a third time. When he opened his eyes again, they were clear and limpid as deep pools reflecting a windless summer sky.

Aanwen said, “Fear not! We are in no immediate danger. You have not perceived the mental fixtures that limit his actions. He will continue to pretend not to understand us no matter what we say. Psychologically, he cannot be a Chimera, since I uttered an unretaliated threat. Recall his blood pressure change when he discovered I was a revenant. As of that moment, I became protected by the same mental fixture or honor code that requires him to protect the albino.”

Illiance said dryly, “But by the same token, he is aware of our mental fixtures that require we fire only in self-defense. A Chimera who perceived the inadequacy of your threat might also condescend to ignore it. And, because you have told him, he is also now aware that the internal sensitives of the tent material he wears continue to broadcast his medical data to us.”

She said, “How can you be so blind? That is not a Chimera! Observe the antics of this man and compare them to the known genetic behavior markers of the Chimerae. Where is his Caste-based xenophobia? He does not have the cooperation code in his biohardware, neither in its original late-era Witch form, nor in its later perverted Chimera-era form. And there is no evidence of a second animal spliced into him. This implies he has accomplished an unprecedented level of deception, both on us and on other relicts in the camp. We don’t know who or what he is. This indicates a danger. In order to simplify the variables of a complex problem, we must eliminate the anomaly source: all the recent unexpected events, disappearances and mal-behavior among the Followers can be back-analyzed to a single source. Him! We must open fire.”

Illiance turned toward her, putting his hand on his pistol grip, and said, “Will the pistol emulator comprehend his deception to be a form of trespass for which violent retaliation is permitted?”

Aanwen did not answer, for she was staring at Montrose’s face. Illiance, seeing the direction of the gaze, snapped his head around.

The lanky face of the redhead was flushed with astonishment, mouth hanging open, as if someone had struck him in the gut. But oddest of all were his eyes, which seemed to blaze with a superhuman magnetism, but also seemed to open like two, deep, pallid tunnels into interior infinities. He was staring at the pistol in Aanwen’s hand.

Illiance found he could not meet that gaze; Aanwen also flinched, blinking.

Almost at the same moment, as if realizing he had lost control of his expression, Menelaus drew his hood closely about his features with an abrupt snap, and he turned his back to the puzzled Aanwen and Illiance.

Illiance said, “Again, I would be grateful for your wisdom.”

She said, “The mission is endangered. Summon Followers. He will kill us, they will kill him, and the remainder of our order will continue, without undue perturbation to the flow of events.”

Illiance shook his head. “While insightful, the proposal lacks several attractive prospects.”

Aanwen said, “What matter our two lives? The Bell is coming. Summon the Followers, Docent Illiance! Or I will.”

Illiance said, “With respect, you shall not. You have not seen clearly. You reason like a Locust, weighing one life against another. This is inelegant. Sometimes the simplest solution truly is best.”

And, without a further word or sign, Illiance turned and glided smoothly and without hurry out of the chamber, and the cobra pattern of gemstones glinted on the shoulders and back of his long blue coat as he moved away.

4. Simple Solution

Both Aanwen and Menelaus stared in astonishment after the retreating back of Illiance for a moment. Then the smooth slope of the curving corridor hid him from view.

Menelaus looked down at her just as she looked up at him, as if they both were surprised to catch themselves staring. He met her eyes, and smiled and shrugged.