Session 147 - The Prosecution Calls An Anxiety Attack To The Stand

Previously, Across the Horizon...
Over the last several months, Bast adjusted to commanding a ship.
It did not differ strongly from his role in a gang in the Triad; the person most adept at their work naturally took on a leadership role, because any who sought out that role without first earning it found that no one would listen to them. As captain of the Starfall, an entire ship of fools stood ready to follow his orders and obey his commands, and what's more, they'd actually been the ones to put him there. Once he realized no one was actually going to shiv him in the back, he found he was well-suited for the role.
Over the past several minutes, Bast's newfound talent at command has extended beyond any reasonable expectation.
He stands before renowned explorers, titans in their specific industry. He stands before them as an outsider, someone with no claim on their rank or status in their court. He stands before professors and doctors, directors and captain, and they listen to him.
All this, without even twitching a finger toward his crossbow.
The Captain of the Starfall has the floor.
**
"After all, I'd think that the two attacks are themselves evidence enough. Or is that also in question?" Bast looks over the seated members of the Board, lingering in particular on those who spoke up against Celeste's work.
Captain Antonia Kasurinen clears her throat. "There have been claims that Meracydia's map is not what she claims it to be."
"Unfounded claims," Director Juha Faden states.
"They have no less merit than Celeste's own claims that the map is the genuine article, at the very least," Doctor Annika Durrie says.
Bast looks politely curious. "Pardon me, we have been at sea a while. Has someone else located the Forgotten City?"
"I mean, it had to be located somewhere in order to forget it, right? Otherwise it's just 'the brand-new city.'" Linnet catches herself after the words escape her head and promptly shuts up, blushing.
Professor Sami Lake regards Linnet with an expressionless stare.
Professor Martti Ehreth leans forward. He rests his elbows on the table in front of him and clasps his hands together. Dark brown eyes dart between the captain and his assistant. When he speaks, it is as if he is letting them in on a trade secret. "Another candidate found evidence that Celeste falsified important landmarks on her map."
"Given that the expedition has not actually happened yet, of course the map's not a hundred percent accurate. All maps are a matter of guesswork until boots hit the ground, and then they're only as good as the mapmaker's artistic skill. Even Orrey over here can't make a photorealistic map of his hometown without standing in it." Linnet nods toward her companion.
(Out in the hallway, Yves is humming an old harvest song quietly to himself, still holding the sack. Oh gather ye mushrooms while ye may... Whenever it's wet and cold and gray...)
Orrey pauses before adding a "well, actually" and then nods at Linnet's statement instead.
Bast leans slightly forward, hands clasped behind his back. "How...interesting. My impression of Miss Meracydia, from her work as my navigator, is that she...perhaps would not throw someone who wants her to falsify her maps overboard. But would at least strongly consider it. Of course, if true, this would jeopardize the entire ship and everyone on it. Is this evidence available for us to see here?" He stands up straight again, in anticipatory silence. "Huh, so that's what happened to - oops, sorry, never mind." Linnet's habit of talking to herself has begun to escape her rigid confinement.
"Mountains sixty miles in the wrong direction. A mining town copied from a map discredited eleven years ago. Tales of her 'intrepid adventure' to a village buried in a landslide six years prior. It is not that she made up the entire endeavor. It is that she -- allegedly," Ehreth adds after that same flat look from Lake falls on him, "came up with her own conclusions prior to acquiring her data, and then either omitted the facts that proved her wrong, or did not attempt to verify any of those facts herself."
"We do not have the evidence here for your perusal." Captain Sorsa Randle cannot keep the derision completely out of their voice. "As fate would have it, the person who brought it to our attention is in Thalatte. Shall I send a runner to fetch them, Captain?"
"Ah, excellent. Was it one of the candidates who were on that stage with her? They didn't strike me as cartographers, but people do have their interests."
"Lynn Fairband," Lake says bluntly. Ehreth sets his jaw, but says nothing.
Bast smiles brightly at that response. "Ah. Miss Fairband brought these concerns to you herself, then? Settlements and mountains and all?"
"She uncovered them during her research on her own presentation," Ehreth says, "and brought them to the attention of her sponsor. He then brought them to the Board."
That gets an outright grin. "Thank you, that clarifies things." Bast fishes an opened letter out of his coat and carefully hands it over to Lake. "Would any of you be able to recognize this handwriting, by chance?" Lake reaches into the interior pocket of his coat and withdraws a pair of glasses. He looks down his nose at the envelope, sniffs once, and then hands it to Ehreth.
One by one, it winds its way around the Board.
Six of the seven Board members give no indication of recognition. The seventh, however... Professor Brig Grevendonck huffs their pompom back out of their eyes. "I know this hand," they say.
"Who would you say addressed this letter, then?"
"Osvald Temenos," they state clearly. "I'd stake my reputation on it."
Bast nods slowly. "Now, we wouldn't want to act on one person's word in something like this, I'm sure." Bast smiles at the Board and produces a sheet of paper that looks finely dusted with charcoal, with a few lines standing out in sharp relief, handing it to Professor Grevendonck. "Would any of you say the hand in this inscription doesn't match the letter?"
The new piece of paper makes the rounds. No one raises a dispute. Randle looks thoughtfully up at the ceiling. Kasurinen writes in a small lime green notebook.
(Linnet looks up at the ceiling too, trying to see what's so interesting.)
Bast follows the progress of the letter, and the associated expressions, with narrowed eyes. When everyone's had a chance to see it again, he gives a faint, jerky nod, as if punctuating something in his head. "What you just held in your hands was a deadly weapon. Armed with the Foundation's supplies, and aimed at Miss Meracydia - by Osvald Temenos.
So we come back to my original question. Why?"
The Board's attention returns to the letter in Grevendonck's hand the instant Bast identifies the letter as the weapon. All but one. Lake watches Bast closely. "Well, Captain?"
"I was hoping to see what the Foundation has to say on the matter, Professor. He's been either quite sloppy in his attempt - or he acts like a man who doesn't have a reason to be afraid of being discovered. Is there, perhaps, a reason for him to be so fearless?"
"I fear I have nothing to tell you, Captain." Lake leans back in his chair. "I have precious little firsthand knowledge of Temenos. I daresay the rest of the Board has little as well. He is not a common sight in the Foundation. He wasn't, at the very least."
"Then perhaps we should hear from someone who knows him better."
Elsewhen, across the Horizon...
It's the morning after a certain impromptu party - late morning, in deference to the partiers - on a street known for its student cafés. Luca Ficarra strolls along, out of visiting student disguise and in their most absolutely swaggering bravo's garb. Their smile is easy and casual but their eyes are flicking to either side of the street, skimming outdoor tables with purpose. They find their target, eventually, and offer a polite throat-clearing as a bid for attention. "Miss Fairband?" they ask. "Might I have a moment of your time?"
Lynn looks up from the middle of her three notebooks, and blinks. Her eyes attempt to take in Luca's entire everything and fails, necessitating a blink to reset. Two more resets do nothing to remedy the confusion. "...yes?" she answers tentatively. "Is 'yes' an okay answer?"
Luca's smile only widens. "'Yes' is a marvelous answer. I'd like to speak to you about your advisor..."
She sits up straighter. "Of course!" She closes her three notebooks into each other, each flap keeping another notebook's place. "You can sit down, if that's something you want to do." She really does not know how to handle this situation.
Luca takes a chair after a gracious bow. They get a server's attention for a quick order, and then turn their full regard back on Lynn. "Thank you. My name is Luca, I don't believe we've met face to face before," they lie. "but I'm aware of your work. It's impressive."
"You are?" Lynn searches Luca's expression for any sign they are being condescending. She searches for seven seconds longer than is socially acceptable to stare at another person's face without speaking. "Thank you?"
They chuckle, a bit. "You're welcome, though I have to confess I am a poor student at best. More a scholar of the world, as it were. So while I'd love the chance to talk about it with you, I'm afraid I would make a poor showing as an interlocutor. No, today I can only offer a more dour topic of conversation. I've had to pay some attention to Osvald Temenos lately, and I am concerned about some things I have learned."
"Really?" She remains just as confused, but this is more immediate and troubling. Someone liking her work and finding it inspirational? What sense does that make? Someone telling her that her sponsor is troubling? That makes more sense -- that would be something bad for her, and that she understands. "What do you mean?"
Luca's morning pick-me-up arrives, and they take a moment to sip while the server retreats. "Mm. I find myself at a point of some delicacy. You see, if I tell you what I have learned, and I have judged you wrong, well, then I will be at your mercy."
"It's okay, I don't know what to do about that," Lynn says automatically.
"Very well then," Luca says, and watches her face carefully. "I believe that Temenos has gone beyond the pale in his efforts to promote you, and thus himself. I believe this extends as far as an earnest attempt to murder someone he sees as a threat to his ambitions. I also believe - and this is where I must trust my feelings - that he is doing this without your knowledge or consent."
Lynn stares a full twenty-one seconds longer than she's supposed to stare. "That... that can't be right," she finally manages. "He -- why would he -- murder?!"
"I don't know," Luca says, "but I hope that you might know him better than I.'
Now.
Luca has been waiting by a door, where they lean over to knock three times on. Not twice, as that would summon Yves. Three times prompts Lynn Fairband to enter the chamber, looking as if she is having all the appropriate emotions for the situation at hand.
(Yves stops humming and straightens! ...oh, third knock. He gives an awkward little nod of empathy to Lynn as she goes through the door.)
Lynn steps into the Foundation's Board room with her hands clinging to a notebook raised like a thin-ruled shield in front of her. Every step is another step closer to religion. Seven gods examine her, and she looks away from their brilliance lest they strike her blind.
Luca gives an encouraging nod, and flicks their eyes towards Bast.
Lake shifts his attention to the Captain's assistant. "Could I impose upon you to bring our guest a chair?" he asks Linnet, not unkindly.
Linnet nods graciously and gives Lynn a seat, and a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder.
Bast gently pushes the chair towards Lynn when she hesitates to seat herself in front of the Board. "Miss Fairband. Welcome. I hope we're not taking away too much time from your work, but we find ourselves in need of your assistance."
"I am always willing to assist the Board," Lynn squeaks.
"Miss Fairband," Lake says gently. "Please share with the Board your experience working with Osvald Temenos."
Lynn's breath comes in rapid, shallow gasps. With some effort, she opens her notebook and begins to write. Lake gives her a quizzical glance, and sharply raises a hand when he hears an intake of breath from elsewhere in the room. Lynn then begins speaking, reading from her writing even as she continues to add lines to the page.
"Mister Temenos approached me when I first came to the Foundation. I wanted to join and become an explorer, but I didn't know where to start or who to speak to. My friends told me that almost everyone that comes here is either rich or has a recommendation, but that there were people who could find a sponsor if they had enough skill or passion. I couldn't bring myself to talk to anyone, though. But he came and talked to me. He said he was a member of the Foundation, and asked me more about myself and my dreams. I said I wanted to join, and he asked if he could help. When I realized he wanted to sponsor me, I almost passed out. I didn't believe it was real.
"When I told him about my plan to find the Phantom Train, he said that sounded very dangerous, and he said he was worried about my safety. His wife had been tragically killed on an expedition years earlier, and he didn't want anyone else to come to that same fate. He said he would hire a guardian for me, though. A whole team of guardians, to make sure I never came to any harm. When I started my trips to the northwest to follow the tracks, I always had bodyguards with me. He took this very seriously and never wanted me to be in danger on my own.
"Every time I came back to Thalatte he wanted to hear about my trip, no matter what else he was doing or how busy he was. He has taken such a personal interest in seeing me through this entire presentation, it's been such a relief. I have met with him every day for the past two weeks to go over my presentation to be absolutely certain it is ready for the end of this week. There are times that I think he is more invested in it going well than I am, but I know that I am more nervous." The more Lynn writes, the stronger her voice becomes.
Bast's pom dips slightly as he suddenly frowns, glancing at Lynn as she continues writing, before the frown melts away in the space of a slow breath. "Have you, at some point, examined the evidence Celeste used to put together the map she was presenting? Enough to form an opinion of her work?"
"No, I have not." Lynn narrates. "I was devastated that Miss Meracydia's presentation came to an end before the map could be revealed. I wrote her a letter after it happened, but I do not know if she ever received it."
Bast nods, not taking his eyes off Lynn. "And that protection team that you mentioned. Different people each time, or one group on a long-term contract?"
"There were seven people total. Guston was always there, but the second or third changed."
"That was just for the expeditions, though? They weren't with you when you were watching Celeste's presentation?"