Profess Keen Interest In the Welfares of the State

August 483 I.C., Odin

Kircheis was glad to be back at school, he decided. Even though his parting with Martin had been sad, he was relieved to be getting away from his family, and he had a weird feeling of anticipation about taking Leigh’s SW class. He wondered how much different it would be, taking a real class with him, rather than just having Leigh set up individual games between him and Hilde on those few occasions that both of them had visited the Mariendorf house.

Some of this excitement and happiness to be back at school had faded by the time that Thursday, the day of the sophomore practicum, rolled around. In terms of his classmates, absence had made the heart grow fonder, and as he attended his classes, he was forced to remember that he was joining the imperial fleet, a thought that didn’t exactly please him.

Still, on Thursday, he arrived at the appointed room a few minutes early, and slid into one of the front seats at the lecture hall, looking around at his classmates. His attention was caught by the sound of an argument in the hallway outside. He had the unfortunate sensation of recognizing all of the voices involved-- a few of his more argumentative peers, and Hildegarde von Mariendorf. He stood, hurriedly, leaving all his belongings at his seat, and headed out into the hallway to resolve the dispute.

“I can’t believe you’re still here,” John Gramlich, a sturdy looking boy who hovered somewhere around tenth place in the class, was saying. He was turned towards Hilde, so he didn’t see Kircheis as he arrived. There were a couple of other students hovering around who had been speaking before, but when Kircheis appeared, some of them scattered back into the classroom. Kircheis was well known for both liking the young Mariendorf and for being the top student in the mandatory physicals, so no one particularly wanted to get in his way.

“Where else do you think I should be?” Hilde asked.

Gramlich leaned forward a little. “Uh, looks like you should be at ‘Saint Germain Ladies’ Academy.’” He was reading the little crest on Hilde’s backpack, which she had slung over her arm. She had apparently not come directly from her school, since she was dressed in an unmarked suit rather than the top half of her usual uniform.

“I have permission to come here,” she said.

“Did you take the entrance exam?”

“She would pass, if she did,” Kircheis said, making his presence known. Gramlich turned to him.

“And you would know this because…?”

Kircheis smiled. “I’m sure you’re about to find out.”

“We’re taking a test?” Hilde asked, looking suddenly slightly alarmed. “I didn’t know there was summer reading.”

Gramlich was confused. “Why would we take a test? There’s no tests in SW.”

“SW?” She looked at Kircheis. “Commander Leigh told me he was teaching Modern Military Strategy.”

“I lied,” Leigh said, appearing behind the group. “Good to see you again, Kircheis, Gramlich, Fraulein Mariendorf. I hope we’re all ready to go in and start class, instead of causing a scene in the hallway.”

“We weren’t causing a scene, sir,” Hilde said.

“Of course you weren’t. Let’s go.” He grinned at her.

“Does she really have permission to be here, sir?” Gramlich asked.

“Well, sure,” Leigh said. “Chancellor Steger doesn’t care that much.” Leigh paused, rubbing the back of his head. “Or, if he does, there’s not really very much he can do about it.”

Gramlich was nonplussed by this, but Leigh continued to usher everyone into the lecture hall, so there was little time for disagreement. As was his usual manner, Leigh situated himself on top of the desk at the front of the room, sitting cross legged. There was a non-trivial amount of muttering from the assembled students: Commander Leigh was no Captain Staden, and apparently a few students had not read their schedule closely enough to see that the professor teaching the class had changed.

“Welcome back, everybody,” Leigh said. “I’m sure the vast majority of you thought you would be free of me after taking your required history class last year, but, unfortunately for all of us, Captain Staden has decided that he no longer wishes to be a fixture of the IOA, and has left for greener pastures. I’m sure we can all continue to have a productive class without him.” He smiled awkwardly at the assembled students. “I’ve taken the liberty of reading through some of the previous game transcripts for each of you, and seeing how the class rankings stand, but that’s not exactly a substitute for getting a feel for how you all operate myself, so I’d like to get us directly into the thick of things. We’re going to play two short games today, so that everyone gets a chance to play, and everyone gets a chance to GM. Standard ruleset, except for the strict timer so we keep things moving…”

Leigh explained the first game scenario, then sent everyone off to their desks to begin. Although Kircheis didn’t know for certain, since it was supposed to be a secret, he suspected that he was playing this first game against Hilde. It was the type of thing that Leigh would do. The more interesting question was, who was the GM? It didn’t matter, he supposed.

The situation was simple, really, to facilitate quick games. Kircheis was responsible for a small armed group of ships escorting a large convoy of supply ships out towards a base on the Alliance side of the Iserlohn Corridor. The base was fully under imperial control, but the route in between the exit of the corridor and the base was a treacherous one, and that was where the game was taking place. Kircheis suspected that most of the groups playing the game would end up having the engagement right outside the system to which the supplies were headed. It was the necessary choke point, and even if he was very stealthy and lucky on his trip through the navigation lanes, he would have to show himself eventually, to get to his known destination.

Kircheis wanted to avoid that. In fact, if at all possible, he would like to avoid fighting completely. He had developed a bit of a reputation for caution in his games, which was usually fine, but he knew that Hilde would be able to take advantage of that. He wished that he could confirm that he was playing against her, but that was impossible.

Kircheis had navigable routes available to him that led him through all of the relatively close star systems. He didn’t think it was that realistic to have this information, since navigation, especially on the other side of the Iserlohn corridor, was a question that haunted every description of strategy he had ever read, but it was nice that Leigh had provided it to them for the purposes of the game.

He needed to get the ships into the system without being caught, or at least that’s what he would prefer. Kircheis was relatively certain that if things came to a head-on battle, he would be able to defeat Hilde tactically, but he did not like to commit even these imaginary forces to a battle if he could help it. Though, if he tried a strategy to avoid fighting, he would be automatically on the back foot if Hilde saw through his tricks.

The clock was ticking, and already Kircheis had hesitated too long. He committed, typing out the commands that would divert his forces on a long and winding route through several star systems. There was no sign of Hilde anywhere, so Kircheis wondered if she was setting up a defensible position outside the base-- far enough away that the base forces couldn’t attack her, close enough that she would be able to see Kircheis’s approach and intercept. His strategy was giving her plenty of time.

In the last star system hop, Kircheis split his forces. The majority of his armed ships and the entirety of the supply convoy would be remaining behind here, while a sliver of armed ships would be proceeding to the planet, hauling behind them huge chains of asteroids, ones that would look on radar like Kircheis was bringing his whole fleet with him. He was hopeful that this trick would allow him to lure Hilde’s forces out of range, letting his real convoy sneak into the protection of the base without difficulty.

As soon as he had committed to this plan, though, Kircheis was skeptical that it would work. He suspected that Hilde would see through him immediately, but it was too late. Leigh had told him, a while ago, that he hedged his bets. Kircheis needed to move forward.

He brought his decoy ships in, and the GMs told him that he could see Hilde’s forces, or at least a contingent of them-- he wasn’t aware of how many ships she actually had at her disposal. Her ships began turning towards his, and Kircheis hurriedly gave the order to move his decoy ships out towards the edge of the system, moving around it in a huge circle, half trying to escape, half trying to move closer to the planet with his base.

Hilde’s ships followed for a second, then Kircheis cringed as they did something odd. She split her force in half, sending half to chase him and half to remain where they were, keeping out a watch. The GM must have reported to her, or she must have divined, that his ships were moving oddly, constrained as they were by their extra burden.

He desperately wanted to abandon this strategy, now that he knew he had been found out. She had more ships than he did, even with her forces split in half. She would be able to wipe out his convoy if it came close to her ships still waiting in ambush. He wasn’t in control of the ships he had left behind-- he would have to wait until they came back within communications range, acting on his pre-given orders, before he could stop them or change his strategy.

All he could do now was try to deal with the half of Hilde’s forces that were coming after him. Kircheis changed tactics. He used the navigation program on the computer to do some dirty calculations about where Hilde’s forces and his would meet, and he sent an order to the GMs that he wanted his little group of ships to accelerate to that point as quickly as possible, without decelerating. When both groups of ships came close, Kircheis ordered that his ships detach the cargo they were hauling, sending the huge rocks free-flying towards Hilde’s ships. His ships, suddenly free from their burden, could accelerate away and avoid being hit by the rocks, but Hilde’s couldn’t simultaneously avoid the asteroids and Kircheis’s guns, so even though his forces were at an extreme size disadvantage, he was in a far better position, and he inflicted severe losses on Hilde’s detached force. It wasn’t enough, though. As Kircheis pulled his forces back, he had his eyes on the game timer, watching the clock tick down until the rest of his forces were supposed to come in. They arrived right on time, and, as he predicted, the remainder of Hilde’s forces pounced.

It became a purely tactical fight, but Kircheis was at a disadvantage, both in terms of the strength of his fleet, and the fact that he was trying to protect the convoy of supply ships. He ordered some of them to run towards the base while his armed ships kept up a rear guard, and many of them made it, but his armed ships suffered heavy losses. Kircheis couldn’t really consider it a win at all, and he exited the game feeling annoyed at himself, though he tried not to let that show on his face when he stepped outside into the hot August sunlight for the lunch break.

He found Hilde, sitting on the grass outside, eating a sandwich. She waved at him to come over, and he sat across from her. She offered him her lunchbox, and Kircheis found that she had packed enough food for both of them. “I would let you into the dining hall, you know,” Kircheis said. “You don’t have to bring lunch for me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” she said.

“When it gets cold, we will want to eat lunch in the dining hall.” But he took her offered sandwich and cookies. “Good job in there, Fraulein.”

She laughed. “And how did you know you were playing against me?”

“It felt like you. I’m right, though?”

“Of course. Hank told me it was you.”

“Ah.” Kircheis leaned back on his elbows in the grass, tilting his head to look at the sky, puffy white clouds sliding across it gently. “I should have done better.”

“If I didn’t know it was you, and I didn’t know that you would try to be too-careful, you would have won, easily,” she said. “And you did win. You got your ships down.”

Kircheis turned to smile at her. “Do you think that Commander Leigh will consider it a win if the technical goal was met, but the losses were that heavy? Staden might have, but…” Kircheis shrugged.

“You’ll have to ask him.”

“I might.” Kircheis changed the topic. “Are you staying for the rest of the class, or do you have to go back to your, uh, school?”

“My dad arranged it so I could have the whole day. I didn’t understand why, but I guess I do now. You should have told me that he was teaching SW. I would have--”

“I don’t know how you could have practiced,” Kircheis said with a laugh.

“Done different reading, anyway.”

“He thought you would like the surprise.”

“I do, I suppose. Or, at least I’m very glad to be taking the class. I never thought I’d be able to. It’s…” She trailed off. “Nice.”

“Yeah.”

Their conversation was momentarily interrupted as Gramlich came over. He didn’t seem as combative as he did before, mainly pensive. He stood in front of Kircheis and Hilde with his hands loosely in his pockets. “I GM’d your game,” he said.

“Oh?” Hilde asked. She sat up straight and leaned forward, clearly interested in what he had to say. “What did you think?”

“I got Leigh’s message loud and clear,” he said.

“What was that?” Hilde asked.

“To lay off you.”

Hilde frowned. “He doesn’t need to--”

“That’s not what I mean,” Gramlich said. “If you can hold your own against him, then I don’t have an issue with you. That’s all.” He jerked his head at Kircheis, who was undefeated against his peers.

“Oh, well, I have a lot of practice against Siegfried. I don’t know if I’d be able to beat anyone else.”

“But you’re going to stick around and find out, I assume.”

“Yeah,” she said with a smile. “If I can.”

He nodded a little. “Leigh is a smart man, even if he is weird.”

“Why do you say that?”

“People would resent you if you beat them before you fought him.” Again, Gramlich nodded at Kircheis. “Good to establish yourself against someone we respect.”

Kircheis smiled a little. “Thank you.”

“You should hang out with the rest of us more often,” Gramlich said to Kircheis. “Instead of disappearing on the weekends.”

“I didn’t know that anyone was looking for me,” Kircheis said.

“Well, you know,” Gramlich said with a shrug. “I’m just saying.” He seemed somewhat uncomfortable, but Kircheis had to appreciate his honesty and his willingness to slightly apologize to Hilde for their confrontation in the hallway before class.

“Alright, I will,” Kircheis said. “You can invite me next time you go to Joseph’s.”

Gramlich was surprised by that. “Oh. Sure.” But he smiled. “Anyway, I should go get lunch.”

“See you around,” Hilde said as Gramlich turned to go. When he had walked about ten yards down the green, he stopped and turned suddenly.

“Hey, Mariendorf! You should get a uniform, if you’re going to hang out around here,” he called to Hilde. “Looks weird if you don’t.”

She nodded solemnly. “I should, shouldn’t I?” she said to Kircheis, who shrugged.

“You should ask Commander Leigh.”

January 484 I.C., Odin

It would have been a stretch to say that Kircheis became friends with the rest of his classmates after that, but he was less reluctant to be social with them than he had been. There had always been mutual respect-- on Kircheis’s behalf because he tended to naturally respect people, and on the other students’ behalf because, no matter how hard the other students looked, there was nothing that Kircheis had done to merit disrespect. After all, while every other member of the class nurtured memories of being solidly and fairly beaten by Kircheis academically, in the SW practicum, or during physicals, Kircheis had never lorded it over anyone. The only flaws that people could have pointed to were his attachments to Commander Leigh and Hildegarde von Mariendorf, but now that Leigh was running the most important class in the school, and Hilde was just as good at beating people in SW games as Kircheis was, those became less areas of disdain and more areas of confusion. No one seemed quite sure what to make of the fact that Kircheis and Hilde were friends, or that Kircheis always spoke enthusiastically about Leigh, in a way that he didn’t about anything else.

Hilde did start wearing a uniform, and she wore it with such surety and pride that no one made any comments on it, at least in Kircheis’s hearing. She wasn’t exactly accepted as a member of the class-- even though SW took up an inordinate amount of everyone’s time and attention, there was no escaping the fact that however much she might want to be, Hilde was not an official student-- but the other students didn’t mind her presence, and didn’t complain when they were matched up against her during games.

This cordial acceptance was to the point that, on the day of the mandatory hunt for top students at Neue Sanssouci, when Hilde and her father “happened” to be in court that morning, everyone was fine with Hilde tagging along with the sophomores on their horse ride. She was an excellent and sturdy rider, better than most of the other students through years of practice, though she didn’t have the arm strength to control the bow very well, a fact that annoyed her. Still, she had a good time riding with the pack, and she was a cheerful sight as she laughed and urged her horse to leap at every given opportunity, clinging to the pommel with one hand while waving to the boys behind her with the other.

Life was pleasant, in an abstract sense. He still missed Martin, and he still had misgivings about being a student at the IOA, but he was kept busy enough that these feelings rarely had the occasion to become thoughts that he dwelled upon.

It was only when he returned home for the winter solstice break that he was pulled out of the odd comfort he had found there.

He was able to see Martin only once over the entire break, as the early part of it had been spent travelling with his parents, visiting his paternal grandfather who lived several districts away. They returned home before New Year’s, and so it was at a New Year’s party that he finally got a chance to see Martin.

The party was held in a house, a squat looking but well kept place a few streets away from the tavern where Kircheis worked over the summer. The host of the party was Maria Taubert, who was Kircheis’s age and who had had something of a crush on him before he had left high school to attend the IOA, and her twin brother Josef, who had been Kircheis’s classmate. Their parents were out of town, which meant that any of Kircheis’s peers who could escape their own houses were headed here, the building’s windows lit like candles in the darkness, and a low thrum of music sounding out into the empty street.

Inside, the number of people crammed into the living room of the house seemed almost overwhelming, everyone shoulder to shoulder, making it difficult to navigate the house or find people he wanted to talk to. It was strange to be surrounded by so many people he recognized, and at one point had known well, but now felt like he belonged to a completely different world from. He made his way through the crowd, exchanging shouted greetings with people who wanted to speak to him over the throb of the music, looking for Martin. He found him in the house’s finished basement, seated on a couch, watching some movie playing on the television. Martin was the only one paying attention to it-- there were plenty of other people in the basement, but most were involved in playing or spectating an elaborate game of beer pong.

Kircheis sat on the couch next to Martin, who didn’t notice Kircheis until he did, and then broke into a wide smile. “Sieg!”

“Hey,” Kircheis said. “Glad you got here before I did-- I’m glad I don’t have to wander around by myself.”

Martin raised his cup of beer, and Kircheis knocked his against it. “You only don’t have that problem because you’re fashionably late.”

“I had to wait until my parents were asleep to sneak out,” he said.

Martin laughed. “They’re not staying up for the new year?”

“They have the good sense to go to sleep early.”

“Are you saying I lack such a thing?”

“They would say so,” Kircheis said, but he was smiling. “But I’m willing to sacrifice my good sense and my sleep in order to see you.”

“How kind of you.” Martin smiled, but looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. No one was, even though there were plenty of other people in the basement. Kircheis was sinking down into the overstuffed couch further every second, feeling like he could disappear inside of it. “I suppose if I knew you were going to have to sneak out, I would have suggested some other venue.”

Kircheis shrugged. “Did you think my parents would give permission for me to attend a house party?”

“You’re an adult. Anyway, they might,” he said, considering.

“Well, it’s nice to see everyone from school again anyway.”

“For you, maybe,” Martin said with a slight smile. “Familiarity breeds contempt.”

“You shouldn’t say that, since you’ll be coming to the capital next summer. I wouldn’t want you to become contemptuous of me.”

“True,” Martin said with a smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Yeah.”

“How has life been in the IOA?”

“Good,” Kircheis said.

“You happy there?”

“I feel like that’s some kind of trick question.”

“No, it’s not,” Martin said. His hand brushed Kircheis’s leg surreptitiously.

“For the most part, then, yes, I am. Commander Leigh and Hilde make it pretty worthwhile. But classes are good, and the other guys aren’t so bad.”

Martin nodded. “I’m glad you’re not miserable.”

“How generous of you,” Kircheis said with a laugh.

Martin leaned back on the couch. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“How is Hilde?” Martin asked.

“She’s good,” Kircheis said. “I told you all about how she comes to Leigh’s class. Oh, I have a photo of her in uniform.” He pulled out his phone and showed the picture of a triumphant looking Hilde to Martin, who looked at it appreciatively.

“I like her,” Martin said. “I shouldn’t have been so rude to her, that time we were in the city.”

Kircheis laughed. “It’s fine. She’s always been happier with people who tell her the truth than those who don’t.”

“That’s something that I can understand.”

Kircheis looked over at Martin, hearing the tone in his voice. “Of course.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“About?”

“That day we went to the city,” Martin said. Kircheis tilted his head, waiting for Martin to continue. “You remember Baroness Westpfale, right?”

“I could hardly forget,” Kircheis said.

“Do you remember what she said-- how Friedrich remembers his father’s mistakes?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been talking to some people,” Martin said.

“You’re being safe, I hope.”

“I’m always safe.”

“Okay.” Kircheis knew this wasn’t true, but he wasn’t going to argue with Martin about it.

“Remember--a while ago--when Prince Ludwig died?”

“Yeah.”

“There was that group of republicans who were arrested.” Kircheis nodded. “I’ve been talking…”

“You think they had nothing to do with Ludwig.”

“Yeah,” Martin said. He pushed his hair out of his face, sweating a little in the too-warm basement. “And I think Baroness Westpfale knows it.”

Kircheis raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I mean, maybe just in the sense of court rumors,” Martin said. “She doesn’t seem like-- I mean, she doesn’t like republicans, clearly.”

“Strange that she’s friends with Leigh, I guess.”

“Is he a republican?”

“He wouldn’t ever say so. I shouldn’t speculate.”

“You’re the one talking dangerously, now.”

“I think that we can be reasonably assured that there’s no wires hidden in this basement,” Kircheis said.

“If there were, someone would have shorted them out by spilling beer on them,” Martin said with a bit of a chuckle, looking over at the exuberant beer pong players. Their shouts were drowning out most of Kircheis’s and Martin’s conversation anyway.

“True,” Kircheis said.

Martin paused for a moment. “Are you… opposed to staying in the capital over the summer?”

“I’d prefer it, if you’re going to be there,” Kircheis said. “Why?”

“Would you be willing to do me a favor?”

“Of course. What kind?” Kircheis asked.

“If you take Hilde von Mariendorf up on her offer of finding you an assistantship in Neue Sanssouci, you could see if you could find out what happened.”

Kircheis looked at him. “What good would it do?”

“Someday,” Martin said, looking around and lowering his voice, “the Goldenbaum dynasty is going to fall. When it does, we have to make sure that we remember everything right. We can’t forget.”

“Okay, I will.”

“Thank you,” Martin said. He sounded relieved.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to find much,” Kircheis admitted. “I feel like that’s not the kind of information that you just stumble upon.”

“If the baroness knows…” Martin trailed off and shrugged.

“Maybe I should just start with asking Leigh, since they’re friends.”

“Don’t,” Martin said. “Better to not have anyone know you’re looking.”

“You’re giving me safety advice now?” Kircheis asked with a smile. “I trust Leigh.” Martin narrowed his eyes, but Kircheis bumped their shoulders together companionably, distracting Martin from whatever unpleasant feeling had risen to the surface. “I’ll look around for you,” Kircheis said. “Don’t worry.”

Martin’s hand landed for a brief second on Kircheis’s thigh. “How could I worry, when you’ve never given me anything to worry about?”

Kircheis smiled. “I doubt that’s true at all.”

April 484 IC, Odin

“Count Mariendorf tells me that you asked him if there were any open positions in Neue Sanssouci that you could take for the summer,” Leigh said, tilting his head to look at Kircheis, who had come to his office hours, intending to discuss his actual class work for once. He was startled by Leigh’s immediate question about something else.

“Oh, er, yes, sir, I did,” Kircheis said, taking a seat in front of Leigh’s messy desk. “Was that inappropriate of me?”

“I’m sure Fraulein Hilde suggested it in the first place,” Leigh said. “It’s fine. If it was inappropriate to ask things of Count Mariendorf, I would have crossed that line a long time ago.” He let out a little chuckle, then shook his head. “He’s a generous man, and he likes you.”

“I’m very grateful to him.”

“Yes,” Leigh said. “I’m surprised, though. Why Neue Sanssouci?”

“Several reasons, sir,” Kircheis said.

“Oh?”

“Well, it seems more beneficial than bussing tables in a tavern back home.” This made Leigh laugh. “And I’d like to stay in the capital over the summer. And, like you said, Hilde did suggest it.”

“All fair points. You’re making me look bad in comparison to you,” Leigh said.

“I’m sorry, sir.” His apology was immediate, his classic reaction to when he felt like he had wronged someone he cared about, but he was confused, and that confusion showed plainly on his face and in his voice. Leigh laughed at him.

“When I was your age, I abused Count Mariendorf’s generosity by staying at his house over the summer, eating his food and drinking his wine, doing absolutely nothing to improve myself or the world. I was the laziest I had ever been in my life, and I enjoyed it greatly. But you’re offering to work, and you’re the number one in the class. I was the mere number two.” Leigh was joking, of course.

“I see, sir,” Kircheis said, relaxing a little.

“Will you be staying with the Mariendorfs over the break?”

“No, sir, I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

“Oh? Hilde would love to have you nearby, and it would be easy to share a ride to the palace with the count.”

Kircheis shrugged. “I would feel like I was asking too much.”

“I understand. So, where will you be staying?”

Kircheis kept his voice even and looked very calmly at one of the odd trinkets on Leigh’s desk, a patinated bronze statue of someone Kircheis didn’t recognize, being used as a paperweight. “My friend Martin is going to be attending ONU, and his uncle is letting him rent an apartment from him for cheap, so he said I could stay with him for the summer.”

“Oh, excellent,” Leigh said with a genuine smile. “Glad you have someplace to go.”

“I would be able to rent somewhere,” Kircheis said, “even if Martin wasn’t here. Since I’ll get paid.”

Leigh just smiled. “I hope being a glorified assistant in the colonial affairs office is an entertaining way to spend your summer.”

“I’m hoping to make the best use of it,” Kircheis said. “It should be good to get a sense of how things operate.”

“True. Personally, it seems like it would be torture to spend that much time in the palace, but to each their own.”

“Even though the kaiser likes you, sir?”

Leigh just smiled a little. “You should be sure to pay a visit to the palace archives while you’re there.”

“I was planning on it.”

“Oh?”

Kircheis realized he had said a little too much. “Well, it just seems like it would be interesting.”

“Any particular subjects that interest you?”

Kircheis shrugged. “There are some things about Otfried’s reign that I have questions about.”

“Let me guess,” Leigh said, rubbing the back of his head. “The construction of Iserlohn Fortress?” Kircheis had not been thinking about that at all, and his surprise at its mention must have shown on his face. “No?” Leigh asked.

“I’m not disinterested,” Kircheis said. “But I didn’t know that there would be any information on it in the records that I’d be able to access.”

“Here’s a little tip: sometimes the absence of a thing provides just as much information as the thing itself.” He held up his hands, making a circle with his fingers. “Tell me, Kircheis, is the shape my hands, or the gap in between them?”

“You can’t really have one without the other,” Kircheis said hesitantly, as Leigh looked at him through his hand circle.

“Very true,” Leigh said, dropping his hands. “Sometimes, you can get a sense of the story just by lining up little pieces around the edge of it.”

“I see, sir.”

“Well, I don’t know what one could want to know about Iserlohn, anyway. That’s just an example off the top of my head. Now, looking into how things are with Phezzan, that’s a more interesting question.”

“Thinking about that a lot, are you sir?”

“It’s my job, I think,” Leigh said. “To worry about the challenges that you all will face, and prepare you for them.”

“And you think Phezzan is one of them?”

He smiled, a little grimly. “I think that, sooner or later, the balance of power is going to shift, in one direction or another. And Phezzan has a vested interest in the status quo, for so many different reasons.” He shook his head and sighed. “Well, nothing any of us can do about it. It’s not really something you can be proactive about, unless you’re the one tipping that balance of power.”

Kircheis nodded.

“I’d also say, if you’re spending a lot of time in the palace archives, you might want to see if you can get access to the other archives around. There’s the big one in the capital, and a specialized one in the Ministry of War… If you cozy up to the right librarians, you can get access to lots of places.”

“Are you speaking from experience, sir?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Leigh said with a grin. “Don’t tell anyone I’m telling you to sneak around.”

“And learn things over my summer vacation?”

“Yes, it would be against my nature to encourage my students to be anything other than as lazy as physically possible.”

“Then I shouldn’t come to bother you during your office hours, I suppose.”

“I’m being derelict in my actual teaching duties, aren’t I?” He straightened up in his seat. “You probably came to see me about something else.”

Kircheis smiled. “I just had a question about the team game last week.”

June 484 I.C., Odin

Kircheis’s job in the colonial affairs office did turn out to be something of a glorified secretarial position, but he did his duties with his usual quiet cheerfulness, typing out missives to send to government offices on outer worlds about minor changes to imperial policy, filing staff paperwork, reading complaints directed to the colonial affairs office and sending polite responses to those he could do nothing for and passing along those that he could. It was not difficult work, and it wasn’t particularly stimulating, but he took as much interest in it as he could. It was good, he thought, to learn how the empire functioned, especially at its periphery. Having lived on Odin all his life, Kircheis didn’t have a real sense of what life was like out in the far colonies, and he was coming to realize that it was quite a different world than the capital.

His position was easy, so he had plenty of time and energy left to do with as he wished. He enjoyed going on runs around the vast palace estate-- there were an almost unbelievable number of gardens and shady, forested paths that he could jog along during his lunch break or after work. He also liked spending time in the palace archive, as both Leigh and Martin had suggested he do, though he had discovered very, very quickly that it was unlikely that he would find out anything useful about Prince Ludwig’s death from random trawling of documents. He needed some kind of hook, something that would get him started.

Of course, what Kircheis enjoyed most was spending his evenings and nights in the apartment he shared with Martin. It was the happiest he had been since he was a child. They would sit out on the rickety wooden balcony of Martin’s third floor apartment and watch the sunset, drinking very cheap wine and talking about very little of any substance. When they went inside, they would close the blinds but leave the windows open, to relieve the sticky heat of the unairconditioned rooms, keeping as quiet as possible.

In the mornings, when his alarm would go off, Kircheis would lay in bed and stare up at the slowly lightening ceiling and feel like days like these might last forever. It was that kind of summer.

He didn’t really expect anything to change, and, for a while, it didn’t. He settled easily into a routine.

One rainy Wednesday, Kircheis was staring out the windows of the office where he worked, watching droplets slide down the glass and feeling mildly disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to go walk around outdoors on his lunch break, unless he wanted to come back muddy and damp. Since he had no desire to stay in the office, he supposed he would rearrange his usual schedule and spend some time in the library, then go home directly after work. He finished the last of his morning work, then stood and stretched, fingers just about brushing the ceiling.

The hallways of Neue Sanssouci were usually quite empty, since the palace was so large and sprawling. Kircheis took his time heading to the library, taking a path through the narrow ‘back’ hallways to one of the rear entrances. He had begged for swipe card access, so he no longer had to sign in at the front desk, which saved him a lot of hassle. As he swiped his ID and started pulling open the heavy library doors, he heard an unusual sound: the rather out of breath and silly laughter of a very young child, coming towards him at top speed. Kircheis turned to look at the source of the sound, holding the door open as he did. The child in question was probably about three years old, maybe a little younger, chubby and strawberry blond, and dressed in quite a nice little purple vest and black pants. He was clutching a torn piece of white fabric in his hands and moving at the fastest speed his little legs could carry him, giggling all the while. As Kircheis scanned the hallway for the child’s caretaker, who he assumed was around somewhere, the child darted past his legs and through the open door into the library.

Whoever the child’s minder was was nowhere in sight, and Kircheis realized he had just made a mistake, letting the kid into the library, where there were endless rows of shelves and desks a child could hid under, and no one would know that he had slipped in except for Kircheis. He gave one last glance down the hallway, not hearing the footsteps of any adult, then let the door swing shut behind him as he entered the library to look for the child.

The sound of laughter had stopped, possibly because the boy had run out of energy. He hadn’t gone too far, though, and Kircheis found him, laying down on the floor in one of the aisles. He was wrapping the fabric scrap around his hand so tightly that it was red and puffy. Kircheis crouched down next to him.

“What’s your name, my friend?” Kircheis asked, smiling.

The boy considered him for a second. “Ewin.”

Kircheis held out his hand. Erin rolled onto his side, then struggled to sit up. He finally grabbed Kircheis’s hand, which allowed Kircheis to gently pry the fabric strip off of his wrist, letting the blood flow back into it. He absentmindedly put the cloth into his pocket.

“Where do you belong, Erin?” Kircheis asked.

Erin was far too young to understand such a question, of course, so Kircheis didn’t really expect an answer, and he didn’t get one. Erin giggled a little, then grabbed at Kircheis’s hair.

“Can I pick you up?” Kircheis asked, reaching under Erin’s arms.

“Up,” Erin said, and struggled to stand, his chubby hands trying to find support on Kircheis’s arms. Kircheis picked him up instead, and then stood, easily, if awkwardly, holding the child. Erin squirmed a little, but didn’t complain, aside from tugging on Kircheis’s hair, but Kircheis didn’t mind very much. He carried him back out to the hallway.

He headed down the hallway the way that he had seen the young Erin run from, but when he got to an intersection, he realized that it was probably better to stay where he was for a little while, as whoever had lost the child would probably be looking for him in this general area. After all, Erin was small, and really couldn’t have come from very far away. So Kircheis leaned on a nearby windowsill, holding Erin up to the window, entertaining him by letting him watch the raindrops drip slide down the glass. Erin babbled happily, pointing out the window whenever someone walked by outside, seemingly unconcerned about being in the arms of a strange man.

Kircheis decided after a few minutes that if no one showed up to claim the boy, he would take him down to his office and see if someone could put out a memo to the staff of the palace. He wasn’t sure what else to do, really. When he had just about resolved to do this, Kircheis heard the sound of footsteps and quiet, rough breathing coming from around the corner. He took Erin away from the window, which caused the boy to make a frustrated noise, and walked towards the sound.

Down the hallway, there was a young woman in a servant’s uniform, leaning against the wall. She was red faced, as though she had been crying, and she didn’t notice Kircheis at first.

“Pardon me, ma’m,” Kircheis said. “Is everything alright?”

She looked up at him, and her face paled. “Erwin!” she exclaimed, then ran towards Kircheis. Not really knowing what to do, Kircheis held out the child, and she practically snatched him out of his arms. Erwin, since that was apparently his name, yelped, then tugged on the maid’s hat, causing her to wince as its pins ripped free of her straw blonde hair. She seemed so relieved at the reunion of herself with the child that she barely paid any attention to Kircheis for a second. When she had confirmed that Erwin was in one piece, she turned to Kircheis.

“I’m so sorry about this, sir,” she said. She had a half pleading, half evaluating expression on her face, eyes wide and innocent, but carefully studying every movement of Kircheis’s, her hands gripping the child harder than she needed to.

“It’s fine,” Kircheis said with a smile. “Is he your son?”

“No, sir!”

“Oh, do you need help bringing him back to his parent?” Kircheis asked. He looked at her rather disheveled state. Her apron was slipping off her shoulders, her hat was now in Erwin’s triumphant hands, and her skirt was sideways, the buttons that were usually in the back slipping around her leg.. “If you want, I can take him while you get cleaned up. I have a half hour left in my lunch.”

She shook her head. “What’s your name, sir?”

“Kircheis, Siegfried Kircheis. I’m working in the colonial affairs office.”

“Herr Kircheis, it’s for the best if nobody knows that either of us were involved in anything here,” she said, hoisting the squirming Erwin higher on her hip. He tossed her hat to the ground, and started sticking his hands through the collar of her apron, trying to pry all the buttons off her blouse. The maid was ignoring this activity, staring at Kircheis’s face.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Is something the matter?”

“You don’t know who this is, do you?” She glanced down at the child in her arms, a not-quite tender expression on her face.

“No,” Kircheis said.

“This is Erwin Josef von Goldenbaum. If anyone finds out that I lost him, or that you found him, I’ll be in trouble, and you probably won’t be in much better of a state.”

“I see,” Kircheis said. “I won’t say anything.” She was correct that he had no interest in being seen holding the kaiser’s grandson. Still, she was out of sorts, and he couldn’t help but ask, “But are you sure everything is alright?”

“Yes,” she said. Her expression was gentler, now that she was reasonably assured that Kircheis wasn’t going to report the incident to anyone. “If you want to know what happened-- I was walking him back to his nursery from lunch, and he likes to pull on things…” She nodded to the way that Erwin was fumblingly trying to untie the knots holding up her apron. “And he managed to get my undershawl caught in the elevator.” She laughed a little bit. “Isn’t that right, Erwin?”

Erwin pulled triumphantly on the string of her apron, causing her to shift him to her other arm before he could completely undo the knot.

“He escaped while I was trying to get myself free,” she said. “I’m very grateful for you finding him. And for your discretion.” She batted her eyelashes at him, and Kircheis took a half step backwards, suddenly uncomfortable. He bent down and picked up the hat that Erwin had tossed to the ground, just as an excuse to get her to stop looking at him so intensely. He handed it to her, and she took it with a grateful smile.

“It’s not a problem,” Kircheis said. “I’m just glad it’s alright.”

“Yes, everything is fine now. But it wouldn’t be good for us to be caught standing here talking.” She laughed a little. “Come on, Erwin. Do you want to walk?”

“Yes!” he said, and she put him on the floor, holding his hand tightly as he took a few steps forward. She glanced back at Kircheis with a smile as she led the boy away. He watched them go for a second, then turned back the way he had come, returning to the library.

Although the incident had been curious, Kircheis didn’t think very much of it. It was a surprise to have met the dead Prince Ludwig’s son, but it didn’t surprise Kircheis at all that the boy lived in the palace. After all, his mother had been sent away (it wasn’t exactly clear to where, and Kircheis suspected that she might be dead), but the boy was still a member of the royal line, for better or for worse, so he needed to be looked after by someone. He mentioned the incident to Martin, who laughed about it.

“I hope that someday you won’t say that one day you held the future kaiser,” he said.

“It seems unlikely. Maybe he’ll grow up to be secretary of state, or something. His cousins I think have a better claim to the throne than he does, since their parents are still living.”

It was only later, when Martin was fooling around attempting to remove Kircheis’s pants, that the scrap of fabric that Kircheis had taken from Erwin Josef fell out of his pocket. Martin stopped what he was doing to investigate.

“You found religion today, Sieg?” he asked, holding up the cloth.

Kircheis was unprepared for the question and was most decidedly focused more on helping Martin get his pants off than he was on Martin fishing around in his pockets. He didn’t even realize Martin was distracted, so he mumbled something approaching, “Only if this is what you’re calling religion now,” and lifted his hips off the bed so that Martin could get better purchase.

“No, really, Sieg, what is this?” Martin asked.

Kircheis heard the tone in Martin’s voice, opened his eyes, and finally sat up. “What is what?”

“This,” Martin said, and held out the cloth.

“Oh, that was-- I took that from Erwin Josef. He was cutting off his circulation with it.”

“What’s the kaiser’s grandson doing with an Earth Church prayer shawl?”

Kircheis leaned over to see what Martin was talking about. He held up the strip of white fabric. Embroidered across it in white thread, barely visible in the dim light of their bedroom, was a string of words, repeated over and over. Earth is my mother. Earth in my hands.

“Hunh,” Kircheis said. “Weird. How did you know that’s what this is?”

“One of my cousins is deep into this stuff,” Martin said. “I don’t really understand it, but I’ve seen all the prayer books, since she keeps begging me to go to meetings with her.”

“Okay, well, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “Erwin took it off his nanny, I think.”

Martin looked at it for a second more, then shrugged and tossed it down to the floor where their shirts were. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said, and then gently pushed Kircheis back down onto the bed.

Although Kircheis paid little attention to the cloth that day, when he returned to work, his bored thoughts wandered back to it. Something about it seemed off. He didn’t think that the Earth Church had a huge population of members, and after doing some cursory research into their positions, he found it very strange that any of them would want to work in the palace. After all, their whole philosophy was in recognizing Earth (and their church) as the ultimate destined ruler of all humanity, a position antithetical to the existence of the Goldenbaum dynasty.

It might have been nothing, but Kircheis thought he had a “hook”, or at least a subject towards which to orient his research. He sent a message to Commander Leigh a few days later.

Dear Commander Leigh,

I know while you were researching your book, you were able to look at palace employment records. Could you direct me to someone who could give me access to those records? I’m curious about something. Also, if you know where I could find tax information about charitable donations people have made, I would be very glad to have that as well.

Hope your summer is going well.

Very respectfully,

Siegfried Kircheis

Leigh sent him back a plethora of information about who to talk to and where to look (surprisingly, he didn’t ask any questions about why Kircheis wanted this information), and so Kircheis got the access he needed. The Earth Church certainly didn’t publish a membership list, but Kircheis was able to track through tax information who was giving large parts of their income to either the church directly, or various shell charities that were linked back to them. He cross referenced this list with the palace staff list, going back several decades.

He was somewhat alarmed to find that a steadily increasing number of palace staff belonged to the Earth Church. Not enough to be obvious, and Kircheis suspected that they hid their religious ties fairly well, but a not-insignificant number, either. A surprising number of these staff seemed to be concentrated in the orbit of the young Erwin Josef-- his nanny, who Kircheis already knew, but then several other of his caretakers, his personal nurse, his tutor… It alarmed him.

It wasn’t that Kircheis was particularly attached to the Goldenbaum dynasty, but at least they were understandable. The Earth Church was not.

He had to wonder if the Earth Church was trying to influence someone who may be the future monarch just because there was an influence-vacuum around Erwin Josef (since he lacked parents, and, from what he could tell, his grandfather wasn’t particularly interested in him), or if there was something even more sinister at play. He had no proof, but he had a nagging fear that the Earth Church had killed Prince Ludwig, in order to create this kind of space around the child, for purposes of their own.

Although he now had this information, Kircheis wasn’t sure what to do with it. He didn’t say anything to Martin, not yet, because he didn’t want to get his hopes up about having solved the mystery of Prince Ludwig’s death. Kircheis definitely didn’t know enough to say that. He wanted to talk to Leigh about it, but decided against it.

One cool and grey day, Kircheis was going on his usual jog through one of his favorite wooded paths on the palace grounds. He had made it a little way into the first grove of trees when he heard someone coming up behind him. Since he was usually the only person on these paths, this surprised him, and so he moved to the side of the path to let the other person pass him by. When the footsteps slowed to match his pace, Kircheis turned to look to see who was there.

The man approaching him was pale, with an owlish face, and he was wearing a fleet uniform-- a commodore.

“Siegfried Kircheis?” the commodore asked, bringing Kircheis up short.

Kircheis stopped and saluted. It felt a little odd, since he wasn’t in uniform, but it seemed like what he should do. “Yes, sir.”

The commodore smiled, a bit of a grim expression. “I was told I could find you here.”

“Did you need something, sir?” he asked.

“Need is a strong word,” the commodore said. “I would like to have a little talk with you.”

“Of course, sir.” He was very confused, and growing a little worried. “About colonial affairs?”

The man chuckled a little. “No, Cadet. The affair I’m interested in is much more internal.”

“Oh.”

“Has Commander von Leigh ever mentioned me to you?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know who you are, sir,” Kircheis said, his blood running a little cold.

“How rude of me,” the man said, though his tone indicated he knew very well that he had not given Kircheis his name. “I’m a former superior of Leigh’s. He used to work under me in the Personnel Intelligence unit.”

“You’re Commodore Bronner, sir?”

“Correct. So, he has mentioned me.”

“Only in passing, sir.”

“Hmph, and here I thought that Leigh would have the courtesy of giving me first billing in the story of his life.” Bronner’s tone was vaguely amused. “Are you close with Commander Leigh?”

“May I ask why you would like to know, sir?”

Bronner’s smile was predatory. “I have a special interest in his success, Cadet. I’m simply curious.”

“I enjoy his class, and he has been something of a mentor to me,” Kircheis said. “That’s all.”

“Really?”

Kircheis’s heart was in his throat. “I’m not sure what you’re implying, sir. Commander Leigh has always been very professional.”

“I do love to hear the tone in someone’s voice when I’ve poked a sore subject,” Bronner said. “You think I would have reason to believe that Leigh is being unprofessional. In what way, I wonder?”

Kircheis had to say something, so he said, “I wouldn’t know, sir. I am just surprised that you’re here asking about him.”

“It’s nice of you to defend him, but, trust me, Leigh does not need your defense.”

“I see.”

“It’s really you I came here to talk about, anyway,” Bronner said.

“Sir?”

“What exactly have you been doing, with all your research?”

“Nothing, sir,” Kircheis said.

“One does not beg and plead their way into access to all the palace employee records, and get Leigh to pull strings on your behalf, out of idle curiosity,” Bronner said. “Be honest with me, Cadet. What are you trying to find out?”

Kircheis narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t see what actual harm there could be in admitting it. “I want to find out who actually killed Prince Ludwig.”

Bronner laughed, which surprised Kircheis. “Oh, now that is very funny,” Bronner said. “Did Leigh put you up to it?”

“No, sir. He said I should research Iserlohn, or Phezzan, since they’d be important to my career.”

“Then what has you so interested in Prince Ludwig?”

“It really is curiosity, sir,” Kircheis said, which wasn’t true, but he definitely wasn’t going to tell Bronner about Martin.

“You’re lying to me, Cadet,” Bronner said. “I can always tell when someone’s putting on an act.”

“I--”

“You are not the only person who can get access to personal records, you know,” Bronner said, almost casually. “And I have more of a legitimate reason to be looking at them than you do.”

Kircheis said nothing.

“Were you friends with those republicans who were arrested, perhaps? Should I report that you have been breaking the terms of your punishment, and have you sent back off to jail?”

“No, sir,” Kircheis said, face pale. “I don’t know them at all.”

“Then why do you have such an interest in exonerating them?”

“Sir, even if I were to uncover some kind of evidence that proved they were not guilty, I’m sure that it would do nothing for them,” Kircheis said.

“Answer the question, Cadet,” Bronner said.

“If you really must know, Baroness Magdalena von Westpfale made a very strange comment once, and it sparked my interest.”

“Baroness Westpfale!” Bronner laughed again. “Now what was she saying?”

“Just that the republicans were innocent. That’s all.”

“I honestly would have loved to hear you tell me that Leigh had put you up to investigating that murder, Cadet,” Bronner said.

“Why is that, sir?”

“Because, for a little while, Commander von Leigh and Baroness Westpfale were very close to the top of the list of suspects for that murder.”

Kircheis took a step back in surprise. “Sir?”

“You should ask him about it,” Bronner said. “He’ll try to tell you that he was sleeping with the baroness that night, rather than committing a murder. I don’t know what he was actually doing, but as far as that particular story goes, I don’t believe a word of it, since she’s a homosexual, which got her banished from court, at least temporarily.” His voice was brutally dry.

“But she said she was going to marry--”

“If the two of them were going to get married, they would have done it already,” Bronner said. “Regardless, it would have given me some peace of mind to know that Leigh was still trying to clear his own name from the whole affair, by sending you after it. It would have been rather funny.”

“Should I tell you that he did?” Kircheis asked.

“No, since I know he didn’t. That’s the kind of question that he would ask, though.” He shook his head, then looked at Kircheis with his piercing stare. “So, Cadet, what secrets have you uncovered about the murder of Prince Ludwig?”

“None,” Kircheis said. “I don’t know anything about who did it.”

“You must have learned something. You were looking at very specific records.”

“Well-- I have suspicions, but no evidence.”

“Oh?”

Kircheis briefly described to Bronner what he had learned about the Earth Church.

“Interesting…” Bronner said. “And have you told anyone else about this?”

“No, sir,” Kircheis said.

Bronner nodded. “Cadet, I highly recommend that you keep your nose out of other people’s business. Generally speaking, it doesn’t end well.”

“Am I in trouble, sir?”

Bronner smiled, an evil looking expression. “You’ve put yourself on my radar, Cadet. It’s a rather unfortunate place to be.”

“I see.”

“You may be unprepared for the spotlight that is now on you.”

“May I ask a question, sir?”

“You may, though I might not answer it.”

“How did you know that I was investigating anything?”

“Oh, whenever I’m having a bad day and need to amuse myself, I read through all of Leigh’s messages.”

“You spy on him, sir?”

“He knows very well that I do it,” Bronner said. “And it’s for his own well being.”

“I don’t understand how that could be, sir.”

“You take one look at that man, who is clearly a foreigner, who appeared out of nowhere with no family connections and no birth record, who caused a very public mishap as soon as he was unleashed onto the fleet, and tell me that it’s not to his benefit to have someone looking over his shoulder, who can say that he’s probably not a spy, just a very, very strange man. I’m the best thing that ever happened to Leigh, and he would do well not to forget it.”

“I see, sir,” Kircheis said.

“And, as for you , Cadet Kircheis, I highly recommend that you also do your best to look less suspicious.”

“Thank you for the advice, sir.” Kircheis said, trying to sound contrite and sincere. He paused for a second, then looked at Bronner. “Are you going to do anything, sir?”

“About you?”

“No, sir. About the Earth Church.”

“Do anything? What is there to do?” Bronner grinned, a little wolfishly. “After all, the culprits were already found, weren’t they, Cadet?”

Kircheis tried to stifle the frown that rose to his face. “Yes, sir,” he said finally.

“I’m glad we understand each other.”

Kircheis talked to Martin that night, though first he said that he wanted to go out for dinner, and then after they had eaten dinner, they had taken a walk together in a nearby park. Kircheis just needed to make sure they were alone and out of their apartment.

“I think our apartment might be bugged,” Kircheis said.

“What?” Martin asked.

“Today, while I was at work, this man, Commodore Bronner, came up to me and confronted me about the research I’ve been doing,” Kircheis said. “He said he learned about it because I had sent Commander Leigh messages, and he spies on Leigh. He knew all about the stuff that happened our sophomore year.”

Martin’s face was pale in the twilight. “And you think he’s bugging our apartment?”

“He might be. I don’t know. It’s better safe than sorry.”

“Yeah,” Martin said. “But wouldn’t we already be in trouble if he was?”

“I think he’s interested in bigger things than, you know.” Kircheis felt flushed.

“Like treason.”

“Yeah, but don’t talk so loud,” Kircheis said. “I’m just saying, we should both be careful.”

“Okay, yeah.” Martin frowned deeply. “Did he confront you because you found something?”

“Maybe?” Kircheis said. He debated for a second if he should tell Martin, since Bronner had heavily implied that he shouldn’t tell anyone anything, and then decided that he would rather have Martin know. So he quickly spoke about the evidence he had found about the Earth Church.

Martin nodded along. “That makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“If their goal really is to get Earth to be the center of the universe again, then getting rid of the Goldenbaums isn’t a bad place to start,” Martin murmured. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Don’t tell anyone else,” Kircheis said. “Besides, I don’t really have much proof.”

“I won’t,” Martin said.

“Should I ask Leigh about all of this?”

“Yeah, probably. At least about the man who visited you.”

Kircheis nodded. “I don’t know what I should do about this.”

Martin stared across the park, watching the trees as they bent in the breeze that was stirring up. “You? I don’t know if you have to do anything about it. Maybe you just have to wait and see what happens.”

Kircheis looked at Martin. “You think something is going to happen?”

Martin shrugged, and there was an odd tone in his voice. “I don’t know if the Earth Church will keep their status quo for long. Now that someone has seen what they’re doing.”

“Yeah,” Kircheis said. “You’re right.”

Martin smiled. “I’m always right.”

August 484 I.C., Odin

Kircheis waited until he returned to school to confront Leigh, although the desire to do so felt like it was eating him up for the rest of the summer. He found Leigh at the very end of his office hours on the first day of classes, though Kircheis had not had Leigh’s class that day. He waited outside his office, and when Leigh came out and locked the door, without really looking at Kircheis, said, “Did you have a good summer, Cadet Kircheis?”

“Can we talk, sir?”

“Certainly,” Leigh said. “Let’s take a little walk, shall we?” Did he know his office was bugged? Or was he offering Kircheis the security of speaking elsewhere, regardless of whether he thought the office was bugged or not?

“Yes, sir.”

They exited the building together, and walked silently off campus, towards the nearby Eaglehead Park. When they were far enough away from all other people, Kircheis, with his hands in his pockets, asked, “Did you kill Prince Ludwig, sir?”

Leigh let out a little laugh. “No, Kircheis, I did not.” He sounded sincere, but rather unhappy.

“Commodore Bronner suspects that you did, though,” Kircheis said.

“No, he doesn’t,” Leigh said. “Not really. Not anymore.”

“Why did he think that?”

“Kircheis, it’s not really a pleasant story.”

“The commodore told me about why Baroness Westpfale was banished from court.”

“Did he tell you that Baroness Westpfale and I were with Ingrid von Goldenbaum, Prince Ludwig’s wife, on the night that he died?”

“No, sir.”

“We were.”

“Oh.”

“Are you unhappy that I didn’t tell you this before?”

“It’s not my business,” Kircheis said. “I’m sorry that I accidentally found out.”

“It wasn’t so much of an accident,” Leigh said. His voice was wry. “Bronner provided me with information about you, as well.”

“Oh.”

“I think you can trust me not to go divulging your secrets, Kircheis.” Leigh was smiling. “And I hope that I can trust you to do the same.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

“Do you know who killed Prince Ludwig?” Kircheis asked. “Do you know about the Earth Church?”

A shadow passed over Leigh’s expression. “Kircheis,” he began, then stopped and collected himself. “It’s just like I said before. Everyone has pieces of the story, and everyone has tried to line up their pieces of the story into a shape that they think is true. There’s the shape that the public can see, there’s the part that Commodore Bronner can see, there’s the part that you can see.” He pointed at Kircheis. “There’s the part that the kaiser sees, and all the people who are giving him information.”

Leigh paused for a second. “I’ll tell you who the kaiser thinks killed Prince Ludwig.”

“Who?”

“Either Duke Braunschweig, or Marquis Littenheim, or Marquise Benemunde. He believes one of the three of them paid for someone to kill the prince, so that their own child could be kaiser one day.”

“Is that true?”

“It’s true for the kaiser.”

“What does that mean?”

“And what’s true for the public is that it was republicans. And what’s perhaps true for you is that the Earth Church killed the prince for their own reasons. It’s all the shapes of the stories that we tell ourselves, with the information that we have.”

“But only one of those things is really true.”

Leigh closed his eyes and tilted his head back to the sky. “The only person who knows what really happened in the last moments of Prince Ludwig’s life is the person who stabbed him to death in his bedroom.” He sighed a little bit. “A friend of mine once told me that I shouldn’t worry so much about the injustices of the past, because there’s nothing that anybody can do to right them. Everyone who was ever hurt is going to stay hurt, everyone who died is going to stay dead. All we can do is use what we have-- the stories we have, the resources we have, the power we have-- to build the future, and maybe stop new injustices.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Finding out who killed Prince Ludwig won’t bring him back to life, and I don’t think you’ll ever be able to put enough pieces together to really answer the question to your own satisfaction.”

“But don’t you want to know?”

“I know as much as I need to,” Leigh said. He shook his head. “And I want to be free of the whole thing.”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” Kircheis said.

“It’s fine,” Leigh replied, sounding a little bit better. He put his hand briefly on Kircheis’s shoulder. “You know, maybe I’m telling you to be a bad historian, by telling you to stop digging. But I don’t really think there’s anything in there worth finding.”

“Yes, sir.”

Leigh smiled and nodded.

It was only later, when thinking over the conversation, that Kircheis realized that Leigh had avoided answering any of his questions directly at all, and the thought put a seed of discomfort in Kircheis’s heart.