Dominions

9-2

“These principles still hold firm today, and they form the basic ideology behind the four branches of the Dome’s Council,” he continued, speaking slowly so that he could plan his words. “One section focuses on security, with Authority seeking to keep individuals safe from themselves as well as other groups looking after the physical structure of the Dome itself. There is another section that offers freedom from oppression through providing a voice for members of society, via open meetings and friendly one-on-one discussions‌—‌the living embodiment of the notion that open dialogue will always defeat tyranny. A third section concerns itself with comfort through not only mediating in disputes but also through attempting to prevent any such issues arising. And finally, there is the section involving the wide range of cultural and sporting activities the residents might enjoy, thereby providing opportunities for each individual to develop.”

Not the best speech, and Rodin wasn’t sure if he’d explained things clearly, but at least the answer was verbose enough. Cat must have thought so too, as he nodded, and his cheeks twitched as if he were about to smile.

“Very good,” he said. “A fine attempt to dilute a complicated matter into something succinct. But let us move on. I take it you’ve read of the position of employment awaiting Mister Terrell, correct?”

Rodin nodded. He‌—‌or rather Terrell‌—‌would be working for, and living with, an artist named Sertio, something of a celebrity within the Dome. Apparently, his fame (and the pieces he created) had spread to other Domes too. His earlier works were in paint, but now he focused on sculpture.

“What are your initial impressions of the man?” Cat asked, and Rodin answered after a few moments collecting his thoughts.

“I think he carries his art into his personal life,” Rodin said. “Where so many others have alterations to achieve a healthy, young impression, he opts for a size approaching obesity, yet he uses his mass to make a statement, to be larger than life.” That sounded like bad poetry, but Rodin continued. “His lack of hair can be understood as a symbol of his openness‌—‌he is honest in his art, and he has nothing to hide as an artist.”

“An intriguing assessment, Mister Terrell, although possibly you’re reading too much into things. I believe it more likely he simply finds comfort in being hairless. But what of his public persona?”

“The word ‘avuncular’ comes to mind. He’s gregarious, well respected, enjoys the company of others‌—‌but at the same time he is also secretive about his work. I notice that, while he might hint at his current project, he gives nothing away until it is unveiled. I would also add that, from watching some of the unveiling videos, he encourages others to praise him through mock self-depreciation.”

“An astute observation, and one that calls for elaboration.”

It didn’t, because the look on Cat’s face told Rodin the man understood, but Rodin had to play the game. “In each of his unveiling speeches, he talks of the troubles creating the finished piece, and then he lists what he sees as its shortcomings. His tone is apologetic, and he promises that his next project will rectify these faults.” He shrugged. “I can’t say I find such false-modesty attractive.”

Cat nodded, but said nothing more on the matter. Instead, he asked what Rodin thought of the man’s work.

The pieces, when Rodin studied the files, were surprisingly violent. They focused on the human body, but limbs were deformed and broken, sometimes missing altogether. Flesh was ripped and b****y, and on the few occasions Sertio focused on faces, expressions were tortured, the pain as much emotional and mental as physical.

They seemed to fly in the face of the Dome’s non-violent nature, and Rodin was at a loss to explain what he thought. Rodin compared them to other pieces he’d studied‌—‌Anatov’s Charred, with those blackened, twisted figures sprouting vivid green shoots, or Bewarney’s Reversal, where the flickering monochrome images flashed up faces etched in agony. Then there was the Sanem sequence of performance body art pieces by Lilithong, and the way they blurred the line between cries of s****l ecstasy and screams of pain.

CharredReversalSanemOf course, there were the comments from critics and reviewers, and Rodin repeated these words to Cat. The man nodded, but his expression remained impassive.

“Very good,” he said when Rodin had finished. “But I asked what you thought of Sertio’s work, not the waffling of self-important journalists whose primary motivation is the next free lunch. Tell me what you think.”

youRodin snorted. “It’s art. Frivolous and unimportant.”

Cat leaned back. “And that is the response of the enthusiastic art-lover Mister Terrell, is it? Please, try again.”

Rodin clenched and unclenched his fist, annoyed more at his inattention than at Cat’s condescending attitude. “I believe I already gave that answer. In my role‌—‌former role‌—‌in the art world, my own thoughts were immaterial. I said what was required to buy any particular piece for the best price possible, and I took my cues from those more adept at understanding art.”

He, too, sat back, pleased at his performance.

“Not bad,” Cat said. “But that was too confrontational. And I believe you will need to ponder this matter in some depth. Art is more important than you realise.” Then he raised his hands, and a cold smile spread on his lips, never reaching his eyes. “But onto other matters. Tell me about the target.”

Rodin took a breath. This was the kind of work he was comfortable with. “Councillor Leopold. Thirty-two, impressive academic record, works in the section of the Council tasked with listening to residents. One of the youngest Councillors to rise to tier four. Many name him as a potential leader of the Council. In error, obviously.”

“As long as you succeed in removing him. What else?”

“Patron of the arts, wide social circle, lives alone but has been romantically linked to various others, both female and male. Physically active, enjoys running and sailing especially. Liked by many, but starting to ruffle feathers. Seems to speak ideas others find off-putting.”

“And there is a reason why you mention this?”

“The contract states that his removal must look natural, which will likely involve getting close to the target. This will be easier to achieve if I build up some kind of rapport, some kind of trust. Aligning myself with his world-view seems like a good place to start.”

“You seek to befriend the man?”

“I don’t have friends. If Terrell befriends Leopold, it is so that I can fulfil the contract as instructed.”

TerrellThe corners of Cat’s mouth turned up. “And here I was thinking that Mister Terrell had taken over. It’s most pleasing to know that Mister Rodin has not forsaken us.”

“You don’t get rid of me that easily.”

But the comment felt too light-hearted, and although Cat still smiled, the coldness had returned to his eyes. Rodin held the man’s gaze, and he once more wondered what he’d got himself into.

Jimny’s words‌—‌a good friend, and a dangerous enemy. Rodin still had no clue which Cat was.