24 — ReopenedTime went on, and forced nearly everyone to go along with it.

  Over a year had passed since Daelus’ “death” at the hands of a band of enemy entourage. Sheam had lost interest in getting answers. She was, after all, entirely alive, and was content enough to simply live her new life as an ordinary citizen.

  The delegation and the Benefactors had become a distant memory, or at least, she tried to think of them that way. The easiest way to be reminded that they existed was to catch sight of a newspaper, so Sheam did her best to avoid that.

  Other little reminders were everywhere. Once in a while she’d think she saw someone she recognized as a delegate, hurrying through the city, always busy.

  There was also the mayor, Charles Phaeros. He was an inescapable presence. There were statues. There were wire broadcasts on the loudspeakers throughout the city. Some businesses even piped them inside. The man seemed obsessed with the idea that he could be forgotten at any moment. Sheam desperately wished she could forget him.

  Jonathan never entirely abandoned the search, but he was overwhelmed with new work, and his deepening retionship with Tony. Every time he poked that anthill he was reminded that he too could find himself at the business end of shadowy home invaders controlled by someone who was tired of having stones overturned. If it was just himself, he’d risk it. But Tony was too precious to endanger.

  But then, one day, there was another murder.

  His name was Phillip Menzies, delegated duties included controlling who had access to medical care, while providing it freely to delegates.

  This was the third time a delegate had been murdered since Sheam had crossed over. The first had been Randall, a delegate whose role had been to infiltrate and manipute the criminal underworld. He had reportedly been killed by his own entourage.

  The second had been Daelus himself. It was a murder which, to this day, only Sheam and Johnathan knew was unsuccessful.

  The third was different. Menzies’ killing was out in the open, official, clean. It wasn’t an assassination, it was an execution, though done in the cover of darkness. It was accompanied by a statement that was supposed to have been from the Benefactors themselves. It stated their reasons in the vaguest of terms, and how other delegates may too earn this type of attention.

  “This is bold of them” Johnathan decred, staring up at the murder board's first update in ages. “Noone outside of this room had seemed to care at all that Daelus was done away with. I suppose they’ve learned a lesson from that. Why let it look like a murder, why waste the time and energy hiding their tracks, when they are perfectly capable of getting away with just killing one of their own out in the open?”

  I had reluctantly agreed to meet with Johnathan about the matter. The room still felt heavy from my outburst the st time I was here, even though that was now ages ago.

  We hadn't exactly grown apart. He had just realized that anything that reminded me too much of my old life could easily upset me, so he hadn't been inviting me over. Today's urgent summons was a departure from that.

  “So, okay, yeah, that looks fishy. And interesting. I'm not saying I'm not curious about what this Menzies could have been doing to get him executed. I'm just not sure what I'm supposed to—”

  “My dear friend,” Johnathan began and then paused for effect. “I know exactly where the records about this whole affair would be kept. We wouldn't have to wonder. We could know!”

  “That's… kind of exciting actually. So, what? You can get it? Or send an entourage after it, or—?”

  Johnathan shook his head. “As, it's at the lodge. I'm both one of the most recognizable delegates in the organization and, thanks to making a nuisance of myself over dear Daelus,”

  “I'm right here, Johnathan,”

  “Goodness, allow me the dramatic indulgence just this once? Very well. Thanks to me making a nuisance of myself over my dear Sheam's — your — attempted murder.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I'm not exactly granted access to every chamber without arousing suspicion. Also, as we both know, entourage are traditionally discouraged from use within those halls. We need a face, a flesh and blood human face, they won't recognize, but is also familiar enough with the yout so that they look like they belong there.”

  “So you've recruited another delegate to our cause? I thought you said we couldn't trust any—”

  “You, Sheam!”

  “Uhh? Oh!”

  “I know you're not exactly comfortable with these topics anymore, but—”

  “Actually, you know what? I'll do it.”

  “I… was sure you'd refuse.”

  “They have no idea who I am. No one delegate knows for sure that they'd recognize every other one on sight. We can't use you, or an entourage, and we can't trust anyone else. I want to know why this guy was executed. Maybe he saw the delegation as dangerous, like us? Maybe we can discover a lead that can connect us to other delegates we can trust? So yeah, I'm in. Let's do it.”

  I went that very night.