Winter 2007 6

Weft volunteered 'all of it into the bag', 'nice slow movements, buddy', 'don't make my associate here angry' and 'you haven't seen anything, got it?'

Noticing the trend in phrases, Daaren stared at the trio with distate. By contrast, Nico quite cheerfully helped out.

"What are they teaching that girl?" Suitov said quietly. By contrast to Daaren, he seemed amused.

During a lull in the lesson, he called over to Weft. "If anyone here gets arrested, good brother, I hope you will be thoroughly ashamed of yourself."

Weft smirked delightedly at him.

"Wonderful," Helmine said dispassionately, having repeated after Weft, then looked around at the others in the same fashion. "How does one say 'run for your lives', then?"

"With loud, firm voice? Alternatively with a manic edge." Nico immediately followed that with a translation of the requested phrase.

Daaren took a deep breath and held his peace.

"Think of it this way," Suitov remarked. "If she tried any little stunts like that without knowing the language, there would be more chance of someone getting hurt."

He hoped Helmine wouldn't try any 'little stunts' around here. Up until now, she'd seemed a bright young lady.

Possibly Nico had some thought along those general lines left, rather than running with the flow altogether, because next she presented a list of terms for lawkeepers, followed by things on the lines of "bounty hunter", prison, forced labour, execution, and various topically related terms, just as cheerfully as before.

Daaren gathered that Suitov was not joking, and thus gave the logic a try. It made a twisted kind of sense, but that didn't mean he liked it.

"All right," Helmine said, not looking at Weft or Nico, but at her papers instead. "Now I know how scum is going to talk to me -- now how do I tell these lawkeepers that I was robbed or in danger of being raped?" Pause. She had to admit she didn't want to know why Weft was teaching her phrases that common criminals used.

Because she looked like a criminal.

"If it's civic police..." Weft began, and gave her the usual phrases, including 'officer, arrest this person', 'stop thief' and 'make this scum disappear and I'll make it worth your while'.

"If you're asking a monk, say 'good brother, please assist me on a matter of civic order'. We like that kind of thing. It isn't a request we're obliged to obey, but he'll probably help you if it's appropriate."

Nico was delighted about Helmine's change of tack, more for the twist of the conversation than for any moral reasons. She interjected a point here and there in Weft's lesson, including "I'm sorry, I had no idea there was a law against that here." She found it a useful phrase.

At that last point, she said, "Depends on the order, though. How does one recognise monks belonging to yours, exactly?"

"Dress code," Weft said immediately, "and behaviour and attitude. Mainly little things missing that you'd expect to see on most guys -- jewellery, long cuffs, scarves. Obvious to anyone who grew up in the city. You can easily learn to pick us out, or so aliens have told me.

"Of course not everyone who looks dumb, fast and menacing is a field agent like me. Civic police have uniforms. The difference to look for between a combat brother and somebody's hired muscle is that we're stiller, nicer, we talk less trash and we tend to call people 'citizen'."

Helmine didn't quite understand the significance of stillness. Nicer, well, she wondered. This monk seemed a fair bit arbitrary... and then, she had her own cultural expectations of law and, hm, field agents. "Back where I come from, an agent calling you a citizen is usually a sign to either run for it or hope you have enough money to bribe them."

"We can't be bribed." Weft gave a small laugh that contrived to be a lot more disturbing than any of his scowls. "It's a matter of status, really. By law, strictly speaking, we're not citizens."

"Notice I said where I come from," she said in a slightly irritated tone. What a horrible little laugh.

"Yes. And where I come from monastic agents are trustworthy."

"That's good. What's the difference between citizens and non-citizens?" Nico threw in.

"For example, they can be licensed craftspeople and take part in the political system under whatever aristocrat they choose. Non-citizens can't." They could earn a licence, actually, but it would be purely symbolic. You'd never get permission to begin trading. "Everyone born within the city belt is a citizen, though, unless they do something to get it taken away."

"Like becoming a monk?"

Weft shook his head. Hadn't thought of it that way. "We're a different case. Besides, we wouldn't have any need to pledge to politicians anyway."

"What's that pledging good for exactly, anyway?"