The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters

Sir,” he deferentially called over to Chang. None of the other customers acted as if they’d heard a word. Chang nodded to the trooper and stood. This was happening more quickly than he’d expected. He collected his walking stick and left the paper for someone else to read.
    They did not speak as Chang was led to the river. The bright uniform of his guide seemed to vibrate against their monochrome surroundings of stone paving, grey mottled plasterwork, and black pools of standing fetid water. Chang knew that his own coat had a similar effect, and smiled at the thought that the two of them might be seen as a strange kind of pair—and how much the trooper would loathe such an idea. They rounded a corner and walked onto a stone balcony that overhung the river itself. The wide black water slipped past beneath them, the far bank just visible through the tracings of fog that had either not fully abated from the night or were already beginning to gather. The balcony had been a wharf for pleasure craft and boats for hire when the district was thriving. It had since been left to rot, despite being regularly used for nefarious transactions after nightfall.
    As he expected, Adjutant-Colonel Noland Aspiche stood waiting for him, with an aide and three other troopers standing behind, and two more waiting in the trim launch tied up to the stairwell. Chang stopped, allowing his escort to continue on to his commander, click his heels and report, gesturing back to Chang. Aspiche nodded, and then after a moment walked over to Chang, out of earshot from the others.
    “Where is he?” he snapped, speaking quietly. Aspiche was a hard, lean man, with receding hair cut close to his skull. He dug a thin black cheroot from his red jacket, bit the tip off, spat, and pulled out a small box of safety matches. He turned away from the wind and lit one, puffing until the flame took. He exhaled a blue plume of smoke and returned his sharp gaze to Chang, who had not answered. “Well? What have you got to say?”
    Chang despised authority on principle, for even when veiled by the rubric of practical necessity or the weight of tradition he could not see institutional power as anything but an expression of arbitrary personal will, and it galled him profoundly. Church, military, government, nobility, business—his skin crawled at every interaction, and so though he granted Aspiche his probable competence there was an urge in Chang, rising at the very manner in which the officer bit off the tip of his cheroot and spat, to savage the man with his razor then and there, no matter the consequences. Instead he was still, and answered Adjutant-Colonel Aspiche as calmly as possible.
    “He’s dead.”
    “Are you sure? What did you do with the body?” Aspiche spoke moving only his mouth, keeping the rest of his body still—from the back, as his men saw him, he was merely listening to Chang.
    “I didn’t do anything with the body. I didn’t kill him.”
    “But—we—you were instructed—”
    “He was
already
dead.”
    Aspiche was silent.
    “I followed him from Hadrian Square to the country, to the Orange Canal. He met a group of men, and together
they
met a small launch sailing up the canal. From the launch they unloaded a cargo onto two carts, and drove the carts to a nearby house. A great house. Do you know what house that was, near the Orange Canal?”
    Aspiche spat again. “I can guess.”
    “Evidently it was quite an occasion—I believe the given excuse was the engagement of the Lord’s daughter.”
    Aspiche nodded. “To the German.”
    “I was able to enter the house. I was able to find Colonel Trapping, and with a fair amount of difficulty, I was able to introduce a substance to his wine—”
    “Wait, wait,” interrupted Aspiche, “who else was there? Who else was with him at the canal? What happened to the carts? If someone else killed him—”
    “I am telling you,” hissed Chang, “what I am going to tell you. Are you going to listen?”
    “I’m contemplating having you horsewhipped.”
    “Are you
really
?”
    Aspiche sighed and glanced behind him at his men. “No, of course not. This has been very difficult—and not hearing from you—”
    “I was awake into the early morning. I explained that this was likely to happen. And instead of paying attention you first sent a uniformed man to collect me, and then appeared yourself in a part of the city you can have no decent social or professional business in whatsoever.