cannot be ignored. Taking action will hurt him; Ayed, the venerable police chief, is the closest thing he has to an ally, but a martyr like Amos does not shy from pain. The script practically writes itself. Even at the highest levels, police pay is meagre. Ayed has four daughters; one of them was involved in that messy scandal with the rubber costumes, and an opportunist who caught the incident on camera is bleeding him dry to keep it off the news feeds. All I have to do is let Amos draw the dots.
‘And what urgent action must I take against the man who is your primary obstacle to becoming even wealthier, Silas? I don’t understand you at all, you know? As far as I can tell you don’t even do anything with the money.’
‘These are matters of state, Amos. You would do well to take them seriously.’
‘I asked you here to talk about the fires. If you don’t know anything, you might as well leave. We’re both busy men.’
‘And I wouldn’t dream of wasting your time, minister. I’ve requested a briefing from one of my analysts who’s been looking into the matter, but he’s running a little late. I was merely trying to make best use of the opportunity to talk. Communications between our departments are not what they might be.’
He nods acknowledgement, mollified or unwilling to press the point; I cannot tell which. This testiness is unusual. In another man, I’d say I’d touched a nerve, but it would be unlike Amos to show it. Could there be something else, deeper, troubling him? Is it possible the years spent papering the city-state’s cracks are finally taking a toll? He has always seemed eternal, immovable – a foundation stone for the city’s government while other ministers come and go – but the city is changing. The new faiths upset the old balances. The preliminary police report into the fires suggests a radical faction within the Greek Orthodox community may have been responsible for at least one, and the Machine Cult tops the list of suspects for the remainder. It’s all so wrapped in caveats as to be functionally useless. A discreet cough from the doorway interrupts the train of thought. A man in a grey suit hovers.
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