Scene #9706: So How Good Are You At Keeping Time?

Owner	Pose
Timekeeper	The central administrative tower of the Foundation campus-- really just another free-standing grey office building among many, but lent more gravitas by the circumstances-- isn't one Lilian has had much reason to go into before. The biggest building on the grounds, the bottom floor is where the grand and sterile entrance lobby is, and the emblem-stamped auditoriums that Lilian and the other Elites were shuffled after the Storm of 1966, but Laplace, either scientific or rehabilitative, has little intersection with this limb of the organism. It's as she knows it to be. Thirty foot high walls of blank concrete with brutalist pillars carved out, flanking more polished concrete for the floors and a central pathway of black and white marble that leads her like a hand on her shoulder to where she needs to go. This isn't an area with any meaningful security at all, but once she goes up the elevator to an admin-only floor as per Madam Z's instructions, it will be. The first elevator she comes across is out of order, doors propped open with someone inside working on it. Like a vast group of cells, a grey-suited paper-pusher flowing by informs her from around an armload of binders that there's a functional one down the hallway and to the right. It wasn't Z's office that Lilian was asked to meet her at, a fact she can only surmise from still being several floors down from the top, where presumably the Vice President's Chief of Staff's office would be. Even on these more private floors, there's a caustic insistence on marble flooring rather than bland office carpet, but the receptionist waiting at the desk that meets her does at least have a rug to soften it. Where she might expect to be grilled on authentication and juggled between faceless hostiles giving her the obligatory government runaround, instead the lady at the desk smiles at her, glances up at the hairpin, and then asks her name. She nods at the confirmation and cheerily informs her that Madam Z was expecting her, halfway standing up from her chair to awkwardly lean and point around the corner when giving her directions. Room 617, on the floor of legal compliance, human resources, and intraorganizational justice. Meeting Lilian in what qualifies for a courtroom is, at a glance, intimidating, but it's not in use right now. Familiar in how the Paladins have ever-fractally-smaller administrative wings, the court room is only slightly bigger than a typical classroom, with grey and white desks for the judge, prosecutor, and defense, and an upraised area for the panel to sit at. Madam Z is seated in the gallery, which only consists of eight padded folding chairs arranged in a grid. Madam Z herself is a short woman in a big bulky grey and white coat, with the Foundation insignia at her throat and the diamond pattern in the lining, and boots laced up to her calves. She's either Chinese or half-white, with thick black hair cut jaw-length and neatly parted, heavy half-rim glasses, and a bit of a perpetual catlike expression. She stands up when Lilian enters, offering her a hand-- both of which, for whatever godforsaken reason, are covered in elbow length black vinyl gloves. She has a heavy accent, clipped perfectly to be easily comprensible to the British ear but still consciously precise with every word rather than naturalized. "Greetings, Dr. Rook. It's good to finally have the chance to meet you in person. I am Z, the Vice President's Chief of Staff, sitting member of the Joint Council, and most importantly to both of our interests, the supervisor to the Timekeeper. Are you doing well today?"
Lilian Rook	Ever since the Storm of 1966, Lilian has been bothered by how she is essentially never called into that building again. That whole part of the campus. Her anchoring herself to Laplace, in the wake of the Voyager find, was in-majority motivated by intuition; a knowing that she didn't question that she would need to find any foothold she could to stay near Vertin at all, much less nearer than anyone else from the Multiverse. And yet, still, after half a year, the only sign of the famous St. Pavlov's Foundation had been teleportation chambers before operations; and even then, only once or twice. Kept at arm's length by the organization that was allegedly allied with the Paladins now, with even her membership at the LSCC hotly in question, according to TTT, the Foundation's distance, opaqueness, and silence, are all equally damning in her mind. Even now, deigned entry into its halls, Lilian can't forget that the only ones who'd ever told her anything were Manus Vindictae. As if they were shocked that she didn't know. Though it's Vertin's treatment that she has in mind, her motives to carrying around that searing blue ribbon tied to the sword-mounting ring on her belt aren't entirely pure. But Madam Z is someone Vertin asked her to trust. Moreover, Madam Z is someone she has spoken to, once, and found her clearly an ally in the moment; the only other person at the Foundation seemingly interested in advocating for an exhonerating moment. Lilian had even felt an ember of kinship at the time, as though she were recognized as the same. So as soon as she gets home from space, she sharpens up her look, runs down her infosec checklist, and unloads her sidearm before leaving. The receptionist's look at the desk bothers her more than she expected. Glancing back down from her hairpin, Lilian bristles with prickling, combative readiness, only released by a nod and prompt directions instead of any hint of an opinion. Only once she's thanked her and gone along her way does Lilian reflect on the fact that it's enough to identify her by. Of course the ornament is so absurdly expensive and finely hand-crafted that it'd be extremely difficult for anyone to match even a loose description of it, but the thought that she instinctively tries to deny, then uneasily accepts, is that she must be the only one in this world who'd boldly wear such a thing every day. Her opinion on the choice of a courtroom at least appears insignificant. Lilian stops outside the door only for a moment, then enters as if she's been here twenty times before. If there's any hint of feeling, it's that she approves of the intimate size, and current lack of relevance. She hardly has to scan the room to find the woman whose voice she'd already heard-- and for an instant, to be mildly taken aback by how unassuming she seems, in spite of the coat. She's a little more taken aback by 'Doctor Rook'. Lilian finds her smile a second later. 'I am Z, the Vice President's Chief of Staff, sitting member of the Joint Council, and most importantly to both of our interests, the supervisor to the Timekeeper. Are you doing well today?' "Everything is just about back to normal, so I'd say I'm doing fine." Lilian says, easing in ten percent of a tone like 'workplace chatter'. "And yourself? I can't imagine things have been exactly quiet on your end, with that 'Suitcase rebellion' and all." she says.
Lilian Rook	Finding her way over in short order, there's a sense of being evaluated to her handshake; not the kind that really has a positive or negative outcome in mind. "I suppose you might imagine that Vertin strongly recommended you." Lilian says. "After the nineteen-twenty-nine operation." It's only a tactful way of saying 'in the frantic 24 hours before returning'. "I appreciate how easy you've made it for me to see you. The Foundation is seldom so prompt nor cooperative in my admittedly limited experience so far." It's difficult for her to get a bead on how she should act in this situation; or rather, what band of familiarity to dial in. Is 'Z' someone trustworthy, or merely useful? Is she politically savvy, or just popular; or both? Lilian can't quite make out whether to take her for a politician or a mousy academic, nor can she find a snap guess as to think of her as sharp or particularly kind. Her first impression is just so contradictory with her ostensible importance to the organization that it causes a haze of hesitancy to hang around Lilian. So, unwilling to tolerate ambiguity, Lilian tries to collapse the waveform. "If I may be direct, as the Timekeeper's supervisor, would you happen to know how long they intend to detain her?"
Timekeeper	"Everything is just about back to normal, so I'd say I'm doing fine." "That's good to hear." Z's pleasantries hit the same tonal band, brisk and airy but not insincere. 'How Lilian has felt since the Storm' is, of course, a topic with a wide range of meanings and a load of baggage, and it's hard to say for sure whether Z is approaching it carefully or just making conversation. "I'm sure you've had your own difficulties outside the Foundation since then as well." "If the time lost to the Storm of 1929 put you behind in work with the Paladins, feel free to request assistance from us in making up for it; it was to our mission that you were delayed by several days, so if our personnel can be of use in returning that time spent, I will gladly grant them. That offer is open to your wife and the other Paladins as well, of course." Once the heavy door closes behind Lilian, the courtroom's acoustics are weighty for just a conversation between two people. Soundproofing mutes noise from outside-in and vice-versa, and their voices carry clearly but don't echo. Madam Z doesn't sit back down, and the clack of her heels against the marble, reflecting through the sharp-edged architecture, seems to convey the whole spirit of the 'St Pavlov Foundation'. She puts one hand in her trenchcoat's pocket, turning towards Lilian from the panel jury's seats. Her lips curl upwards at the corner, partly weary and partly coy. "The protest of the rescued arcanists has certainly created work for me on many fronts, but I hold them no poor feelings for that. Other projects occupy my attention as well, such as Sonetto's ongoing investigation. Have you been informed about that?" "The Foundation is seldom so prompt nor cooperative in my admittedly limited experience so far." Madam Z tilts her wrist, waving her hand in a faintly sympathetically exasperated kind of way. "As an organization, the Foundation struggles to... prioritize. I was quite interested to meet you personally, however." Z's demeanor is largely of someone who doesn't like to mince words, but absolutely will if the situation calls for it. There's an intelligent gleam in her eye, and for someone this high up in the political ladder, she's surprisingly plain in her promises and opinions. Vertin's name changes her stance a bit, introducing a hint of sentimentality that neither the academic nor politician properly contain. "Both on the Timekeeper's request, and because you are someone that Vertin appears to regard highly. To clarify my own position, for the past nine years, I have attempted to be someone that they were able to rely on when politics threatened to overwhelm them, and I knew them for all thirteen years before that." With that extremely thorough association of history, Madam Z's unhesitating response to Lilian's question carries a bit of extra weight to it. "As long as it takes to subsume or quell the rebellion." Z continues on more firmly, blitzing through the politics like the courtroom around them is in session. "These are the two end states, and the latter is an inevitability with the Foundation's forces. I am working to gather support for a proposal to the House of Integratus that would introduce a third option, creating a faction under the Timekeeper's command that would house these arcanists without forcing them into the Foundation, thus ending the protest and the impetus for Vertin's treatment under Artificial Somnambulism."
Lilian Rook	'I'm sure you've had your own difficulties outside the Foundation since then as well.' "To say the least." Lilian says. She forces a laugh, but doesn't dignify it with sounding natural. Everyone has had a horrible time, and it's those who aren't engaged in plucky rebellion who suffer the most. It's impossible to fully erase a sense of wistful bitternessabout her; one that was much more common years ago. 'If the time lost to the Storm of 1929 put you behind in work with the Paladins, feel free to request assistance from us in making up for it' But what an icebreaker. Lilian looks at Madam Z as if a bullet had just whizzed by her head and isn't sure if she imagined it, blinks, and looks again. "I'm surprised to hear that." she says. Plainly. Honest, even. "I had assumed that the Foundation would consider the events filed to report as beyond the scope of the operation they'd assigned. That's a very generous offer." An understatement, of course. The way that Madam Z just throws that promise around reassures her a million times over in Vertin's suggestion, and puts her slightly off-balance. She has a practiced ear for how people say 'your wife' as well, and the polygraph reads nothing much. 'The protest of the rescued arcanists has certainly created work for me on many fronts, but I hold them no poor feelings for that.' Once the door is closed, Lilian allows her expression to soften-- in the sense of becoming less rigid, that is, which makes it match the shift of her weight to one foot and her hand finding her hip. "As easy as it is to roll my eyes at the people involved, the fact that they don't want to be frog marched into the respective places the Foundation believes they will fit best isn't exactly unreasonable." she says, with a little up-twist of her palm and wrist. "I've gathered the impression that the Foundation has gotten comfortable with being effectively unchallenged in their authority since the first Storm. Being shaken up by a clear reminder that people do, if pushed far enough, have the ability to resist them, will be good for them." She only thinks to add a beat later. "In my professional opinion, of course." 'Have you been informed about that?' Lilian shakes her head. She knows the broad idea of it, of course, but she isn't about to casually admit to how much Vertin organized ahead of time;not even to Z. "I have a general idea, but only because Sonetto and I are on friendly terms, and I happen to see her every so often at my other job." she says. "I take it she has your backing as well?" Another few points of approval are easily won from that. 'I was quite interested to meet you personally, however.' The woes of bureaucracy are nothing new. Hearing that, from one that Lilian hasn't actively pursued negotiation with, causes her to tilt her head, then brush hanging hair behind her ear. 'Both on the Timekeeper's request, and because you are someone that Vertin appears to regard highly.' Lilian breathes deep, suffused with a heady mix of extremely complicated feelings. Most of all, she would like it if Vertin still regarded her as highly as Madam Z thinks; at least, if nothing else, after waking up after her long dream. The smile she wears at the thought is a little bit rueful, and much more focused than that. "I understand why Vertin recommended you, then." Lilian says. "I don't think of them as someone prone to trusting in people just because of nostalgia and familiarity, either." She lets her hands off her hip, and walks deeper into the room herself, following after Madam Z.
Lilian Rook	'As long as it takes to subsume or quell the rebellion.' "Then it'll be longer than you'd think, and less than you'd hope." Lilian says. She speaks with brisk professionalism like an indulgence, easily swapping back and forth. "The arcanists have the most to lose and nowhere else to go. The others have plenty of weight to throw around, but poor organization, lax discipline, and tend to let their attention wander away before long. I'd like to resolve this after they've given the brass a proper bloody lip, but before the larger gears get around to grinding them to dust." She detects no meaningful difference of opinion in Madam Z's estimate either. So she's sharp, politically savvy, personable, tactically-minded, and frankly a little too soft-hearted to be here. That's fine. '...creating a faction under the Timekeeper's command that would house these arcanists without forcing them into the Foundation, thus ending the protest and the impetus for Vertin's treatment under Artificial Somnambulism.' Lilian takes a while to breathe that one out. Her eyes roam around the corners of the ceiling for a second, then come right back down. "That's ambitious." she says. "They'll hate it." comes after. "Vertin could jump in front of a bullet for those people and they'd find a way to question her loyalty before she hit the floor." She folds her arms, then lets herself retreat into thought, half-present. Her fingers shortly reach up to fidget with her pendant, worn openly instead of under her top in this outfit. Of course, it's exactly what Vertin implied. She just hadn't expected even Vertin's patron saint to push for something almost 1:1 with it. "But we play to our outs." says Lilian, just before shaking her head to scatter the smoke of recent memory. "And it's about time, regardless." she says. "I don't know how feasible it really is, but I promised Vertin that I'd at least give it a try. So I can be patient for a little longer." Finding a certain comfort in this surprisingly close resonance between Z and Vertin, Lilian allows herself to quietly say "Tenth, eighth." She clears her throat, then continues. "Naturally, you have my support. Regardless of whether I look it, this isn't my first, or even my tenth time at a hostile negotiating table." The fact that she'd come back here instead of throwing in with the Rebellion, the only non-Foundation Elite who did, save for her wife, is easy to read into after that. "I hope you won't mind if I admit to having gathered a small amount of inside intelligence ahead of time. I know the shape of the dividing lines, but not the individual names like you would. I'd appreciate your personal assessment of where your faction stands at the moment; I can read the nitty gritty on my own time if you point me in the right direction." says Lilian. "Otherwise, I admit to some curiosity about what you hope to . . ." Hm, no, that doesn't need to be said. "My working assumption is that I'm not being viewed favourably by the upper echelons at the moment."
Timekeeper	"I had assumed that the Foundation would consider the events filed to report as beyond the scope of the operation they'd assigned." "Initially, you would be correct." Z allows herself a little self-satisfied smile, tapping a finger to the heel of her other gloved palm. "However, close reevaluation of the Field Agent Administration's Risk Hour Compensation and Contigency Costs Ordinance of 1999+7 revealed that legally, the same protections that apply to world-local outside contractors that survive to a new era are precedented for multiversals as well. Without payroll from the Foundation, this was deemed acceptable instead." "In my professional opinion, of course." "I can't condone their methods," Z starts, like spritzing febreeze into the air. Or-- maybe not so airy as that, actually; the curl of her finger and the lowering of her brow are at least somewhat sincerely troubled by it. "But you're right." "The Foundation is not, and cannot be, a closed system. Despite our separation ever since the Storm of 1999, we are still affected by the changing of the world, and affect it in turn. If we ever were to consider our laws at the time to be unchangeable, we would become self-centered and despotic. It is a part of the democratic ecosystem to allow for demonstrations of discontent." "I take it she has your backing as well?" Madam Z upturns her palm at the state of the room, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the panel seats. Looking closely, there's still a couple of papers left strewn on the podiums. "She does. In the interest of studying and improving the Foundation's outreach record and reputation, she subpoenaed the administrative staff of the Chicago branch for records of their correspondence with Headquarters and their documentation of local arcanist sentiment in the era. I was familiarizing myself with the statements they gave to advise her later. You may find the subject of interest as well." Madam Z rubs her hands together like the muscles are weary from hard work, and then turns her shoulder to angle her torso partway to the far door. "Would you mind walking and talking? Even through Vertin's current circumstances, I believe you are owed a tour." "The others have plenty of weight to throw around, but poor organization, lax discipline, and tend to let their attention wander away before long." "The multiversals, you mean." Z nods at Lilian's assessment of the situation, twisting the handle to step out into the hallway. She doesn't seem to have much hesitation against talking about this stuff while walking where others might overhear, and it's possible she even wants to be seen alongside Lilian right now. "In all fairness, the unknown properties of Elites are what delay the Foundation from taking action right now. Their abilities, as well as political affiliations, introduce complications-- a fellow Paladin, I'm sure you're aware, is among them. But the Foundation has a good deal of practice in maneuvering around unpredictable elements, so this state will not last forever," The extent of her tour for this floor is to nod at the legal offices as she passes by them, giving a polite word to an aide and pointing him in the direction of the not-fully-cleaned courtroom. "Legal is already working on a case to bring to the Commonwealth court about it. I am not given to the details, however."
Timekeeper	"Vertin could jump in front of a bullet for those people and they'd find a way to question her loyalty before she hit the floor." "There are those who doubt the Timekeeper, but others who support them. Neither voice is unquestioned, though the ratio changes." Z's mild rebuttal comes alongside her opening a stairway door, leading into a more humid hallway of linoleum and plastic rather than marble. "I remain certain that Vertin is loyal, as do others. Both her education at the SPDM and her track record as Timekeeper are significantly in favor of the Foundation's interests. Moreover...." Madam Z comes to a stop in front of a window and folds her arms against her chest. Turning away from the wall to look back at Lilian, she taps a finger against her bicep, a small consternated frown on her face. "It is my belief that the Storm Reformation bill will strengthen, rather than weaken, Vertin's synergy with the Foundation. This allowance for her, where the arcanists she recruits through personal admiration and loyalty are reserve military for the Foundation to deploy in all but name, benefits all of us. It is not, as some have put it, political charity or pity." "I'd appreciate your personal assessment of where your faction stands at the moment; I can read the nitty gritty on my own time if you point me in the right direction." It's gratifying to Z how quickly Lilian takes to the dreary politics of it all. The comment about her familiarity with hostile tables was taken attentively, but not with much surprise on her face; as an affiliate of the Paladins indirectly, Lilian's political history and her proven competency precedes her to anyone who looks, and Madam Z doesn't seem careless enough to miss that. "There are a wide range of opinions held by councilors of the Joint Council, but three primary factions have slowly formed around them. There are those who believe that opposition to the Manus Vindictae can only be found in rigorous documentation and regulation of the arcanists within our own ranks, spearheaded by Councilor Pedra. The introduction of an armed force of arcanists outside the control of the Foundation, they say, will not only create an internal political threat, but undermine the trust that the constituencies of associated governments and social groups have in the Foundation as a governing body." One hand slides into her jacket pocket, and the other pinches her glasses to adjust them. "For my own part, the supporters of the Storm Reformation: Manpower and Discipline bill are those who see the need to adapt with the times and expand the options available to the Foundation in recruitment and militarization. Sonetto's investigation will be invaluable to accompany my proposals to the unconvinced council members." "Lastly..." A complicated expression turns Z's lips downwards slightly, the hand on her glasses now a fidget. "There are those who take personal issue with the Timekeeper. She has little ability to advocate for her own trustworthiness while comatose, but neither course can wait for the other to finish. To that end, as the sole person who accompanied the Timekeeper during the entirety of the Storm of 1929, I'd like to keep in regular contact with you."
Lilian Rook	'Initially, you would be correct.' Those words tell Lilian so much that Madam Z flexing her bureaucratic knowledge afterwards is almost a formality. Lilian's eyebrows inch upwards. 'If we ever were to consider our laws at the time to be unchangeable, we would become self-centered and despotic. It is a part of the democratic ecosystem to allow for demonstrations of discontent.' Lilian considers airing her own token disclaimer, but thinks better of it a split second after opening her mouth. "I'd hope that's a popular opinion within the Foundation." is what she chooses to say instead. "I'm afraid that my personal background prior to the Paladins was one that was perhaps defined by less-than democratic circumstances, but I think if the Foundation doesn't have the checks, balances, and internal inertia endemic to democracy, then it has practically nothing over its foes." She only just barely doesn't say 'Manus Vindictae'. 'Would you mind walking and talking? Even through Vertin's current circumstances, I believe you are owed a tour.' "Oh I'd love to." Lilian says, with a little puffed sigh of relief. Her arms fall back down by her sides. It is, indeed, her usual way; whenever she isn't trying to hit someone over the head with the gravity of something, at least. 'In all fairness, the unknown properties of Elites are what delay the Foundation from taking action right now...so this state will not last forever.' "So. Better than I'd feared, worse than I'd hoped." Lilian says. It's an intentional reference to what she'd just said about the Elites. She smiles, one part chagrin to ninety nine fondness in mutual understanding. "That does a lot to convince me that there are sensible people in there, despite the prevailing attitude of the whole; when viewed from outside. The multiversals have a habit of making a strong initial impression and trying to get things done before their deadly flaws have time to bring them down. As a veteran nearing seven years of service, I'm used to working around it." Why be modest? The more she can advise on them, the more the Foundation might have to listen to her for five minutes. Mentioning Riku does sting, though. Not personally. But . . . "I'm disappointed as well. But at the same time, I can't help but think it's important that a Paladin is amongst the dissenters." says Lilian. "Otherwise, we run the risk of the dissenters being easily dismissed as foreign agitators advocating against the Foundation out of self-interest." 'Legal is already working on a case to bring to the Commonwealth court about it.' "Really now? About Asakura? Or . . . ?" 'There are those who doubt the Timekeeper, but others who support them. Neither voice is unquestioned, though the ratio changes.' "I'm surprised, though not unpleased to hear that." Lilian says, also unconvinced. "I'd hope both of those qualities count for something. As would . . ." Here it is. The snarling dragon that casts its shadow over the elephant in the room. Lilian thought she was more prepared to make her choice on whether to acknowledge it or not, but Madam Z's unusual attitude makes it more difficult than she expected to find her way forward. She goes silent for nearly twenty steps. "Coming back. Filing a report. Attending treatment. You know what I mean." she says. She means so much more than that. Vertin leaving Manus Vindictae is still, on some level, a very personal stab. No matter how she wracked her brains, Lilian couldn't imagine ever going back in her position. The fact that she is here, having this talk, and not there, wherever Arcana is, comes down to faith in, and debt to, Vertin, and nothing else. She fidgets with the blue ribbon when she thinks about it.
Lilian Rook	"No one has ever had a better opportunity to spite the Foundation in their lives. I can't imagine that she'd forget what she owes you." Assigning that allegiance to Z and not 'the Foundation' makes it easier to say in the moment, but makes it easier to believe, too. 'It is my belief that the Storm Reformation bill will strengthen, rather than weaken, Vertin's synergy with the Foundation.' "So that's the name of the motion?" Lilian asks, only to pause in anticipation of a much longer one. "Hearing that it's a bill is reassuring. Nothing means anything unless it's in print when it comes to these sorts of people." She means 'humans', but her bearing is vague enough to mean 'bureaucrats'. "I wish the ongoing protest had done a better job of showing them just how devoted everyone is to Vertin, and less to encourage them to imagine the arcanists are shirking oversight." "Vertin's loyalty is an absurdly rare thing in its simplicity and reliability, and the people who have followed after her are far more devoted than they realize. The mechanics should be obvious, I'd think. They've already been telling Vertin to tell them to deploy in the Foundation's name. Whether or not they've noticed, the Foundation has been relying on Vertin's charisma as a tactical asset for a long time now." 'There are those who believe that opposition to the Manus Vindictae can only be found in rigorous documentation and regulation of the arcanists within our own ranks, spearheaded by Councilor Pedra.' Lilian spares a glance out the window, curious about the change of scenery, and given an opportunity when Z stops to start from the top. Those words spark such a flash of heat in her chest that her blood boils. She fights to control her expression when she sharply turns her head back to Madam Z. "If I were a paranoid woman, I'd suspect him of being a Manus Vindictae plant." She quietly clears her throat. "In my professional opinion in the capacity of and intelligence officer, and in my personal opinion, having seen for myself in closer proximity than anyone in the Foundation, Manus Vindictae thrives on the epidemic of alienation that runs through the arcanist diaspora. If he begins cracking down on arcanists now, they may as well start paying him for his recruitment efforts." She means every word of it. As a Paladin, as a trained operative, and as a political veteran, Lilian now considers Pedra and his faction as the most serious threat to the future of the Foundation. She means every word of it, because in the future where that sort of suspicion becomes the norm, she tries to see if Manus Vindictae will still take her back. The sickly heat that spreads from her chest into her stomach and her throat, pushed through her veins from the sickening thudding of her heart, pushes her on to greater honesty than she'd like. All of it hinges on an honest mistake that she's made at the moment she met Madam Z; one that works in Z's favour. 'To that end, as the sole person who accompanied the Timekeeper during the entirety of the Storm of 1929, I'd like to keep in regular contact with you.' "I'd like that." Lilian says, brushing it out of the way like an obstacle. "Though I'm afraid what you're asking for entails an unfortunate degree of telling the truth." She says it like 'speaking my mind' was too dirty to air. "And I can't understate the importance of impressing on them that, during the Storm of nineteen-twenty-nine, Manus Vindictae already made her this offer. So as the sole person present for those events, I will go on record saying that anyone who can't figure this out should lose their job."
Timekeeper	"But at the same time, I can't help but think it's important that a Paladin is amongst the dissenters." Z's nod doesn't betray whether she agrees with Lilian on political or practical grounds, or whether she's just acknowledging the position. She slides the Foundation emblem closer to the base of her throat, the absence of fingerprint through the vinyl glove leaving the gold still shiny after she's touched it. "It would, without a doubt, simplify the Foundation police's decisionmaking in responding to the protestors. The young lady Sotheby, Druvis Weyerhauser, and the Awakened Bellwhistle all pose complications in their own ways as well, but sympathizers within the organization would be much harder to find without a certified Chevalier within the crowd." Madam Z hesitates, which she's rarely done thus far in their conversation. "Certain parties from 1929, saved through the Timekeeper's actions-- I'm sure you can gather whom-- have expressed frustrations about being separated from the rebellion themselves. Their voices would likely be helpful in providing supporting evidence for the Storm Reformation bill, but they will talk more freely with someone who experienced that time with them than they will with members of the Foundation." "Really now? About Asakura?" "About Chevalier Asakura, as well as the Foundation's political standing with regards to the Commonwealth as a whole. Namely, enough doubts have already emerged from the protestors' performance that the lawyers and multiversal correspondence are ensuring that their paper trail is spotless if it comes to using riot suppression practices on a Paladin." With the air of sharing something in confidence, but not so secretive that she would get in trouble if it was leaked, Madam Z adds, "Through contact with Commonwealth legal, they're interrogating the possibility of improving our relationship with the Concord as well. Mr. Parsons, a Partner of theirs, has reached out to the Vice President to work together already, so even the Partners supporting Regulus's rebellion pose political challenges." Lilian's long trailing silence catches Z's attention, but not until partway through it. She had figured that what she said was a fairly uncontroversial statement, but Lilian's absolutist partisanship in how she views the matter of Vertin's loyalty takes her by surprise one moment, and then not at all in the next. Lilian can't tell whether her eyes flicker towards the ribbon, or whether she's just adjusting her glasses. "You know what I mean." "It does count," Z sounds about ten percent more reassuring than she did a minute ago, when she was just business and cunning. That touch of the same sentimentality she had when talking about Vertin only lasts noticeably for a moment, but it doesn't fully recede when she goes on. "But most of them don't know Vertin personally. They hear of her when she has caused trouble, and so when they hear that she has joined the Manus Vindictae, they easily jump to the worst conclusions. They weren't there, but you were."
Timekeeper	"So that's the name of the motion?" "'Storm Reformation: Manpower and Discipline Bill of 1999+13', officially. The primary issue posed by it is the creation of Team Timekeeper, but her name isn't mentioned first until the twenty-first page." Z smiles a bit, not entirely humourlessly. "Correct, the bill is necessary. If it was only a matter of securing safety for the arcanists in Vertin's care so that she could be woken up, it would be possible to invoke emergency staffing measures, exemptions for the new era, or even just trade favours. But with this bill, if I were to die the day after it passed, Vertin would still hold the same legal rights over the management and recruitment of her team as she did the day before." "They've already been telling Vertin to tell them to deploy in the Foundation's name." Madam Z raps the papers in her hand, rasping against her glove. She's clipped-pleased in her response, emotion tempered and tamped-down by the level of control she exacts over each syllable. "Yes. In fact, if we can manage this correctly, we will be able to bring Regulus in to testify as to the Foundation missions she assisted with, as well as others such as TTT-- a physically disembodied arcanist also fond of following the Timekeeper around." ". . . having seen for myself in closer proximity than anyone in the Foundation, Manus Vindictae thrives on the epidemic of alienation that runs through the arcanist diaspora." Beyond the window where Madam Z stops is a view into the messy industrial tangle of the backsides of all the buildings of the Foundation. A power plant spits out steam; a tanker truck from the 70s, Ship of Theseus'd with patches and repairs, rolls down a dirt road away from it; a group of workers in grey overalls sit beside an unearthed pipe and quickly pound down meals brought to them by someone on a golf cart with a hot tray doing rounds. Each glimpse of movement implies a thousand other supporting gears, and Z watches them move for a bit. "Few of the staff here have ever encountered the Manus Vindictae personally. Councilor Pedra and I disagree on many fundamental points, but he's not an unreasonable man. What he is seeing every day is a population of representatives of constantly changing urban centers, where a billion people hold as many differing opinions, and any sudden unconsidered action could tear what we've built apart at the seams. He is conservative, yes; but thousands of other staff members are as well, and without their support, the Foundation would not function." Madam Z holds her elbow, finger pensively to her chin. "I am more optimistic on changing his mind on this proposal than I am certain others. After all, we are in agreement that the Storm Reformation proposal will improve the relations of arcanists with the Foundation's bureaucracy, even lacking direct oversight." "Though I'm afraid what you're asking for entails an unfortunate degree of telling the truth." "I understand." Z turns away from the window and makes eye contact with Lilian, the corner of her lips tugging in an unreadable expression. "My apologies for asking you for these bitter trades. I never dreamed of being a politician when I was younger."
Timekeeper	She releases a heavy breath of air, adjusting the weight of her trench coat to settle it comfortably across her shoulders, like bracing armor for moving on from this small private hallway. "But this work has a purpose for all of us. I hope this place can be more like home to you eventually. So, shall we go?" Out in the more public areas, Madam Z keeps up a steady back and forth of small talk with Lilian. She isn't especially charming in a conversation-carrying way, but she's highly intelligent and deliberate, chatting about academic pursuits in the sciences and curious about Lilian's studies in her HTO research. While touring, she's not shy at all about introducing Lilian to people they come across, and shows her several locations over the next hour before they both get too busy to continue. » The International Delegations Wing, where representatives of the countries of 1999 advocate for the interests of the people that approximately correlate to the regions they were from » The Foundation Cafeteria where, unlike in Laplace, the cafeteria is actually a centralized location for socializing instead of a half-abandoned space, with a courtyard and a corkboard plastered with announcements of something or another. » Training Presentations, where new hires from this era are onboarded and broken into little focus groups. » A Worship Room, of all things, including mats and symbols from the major faiths of Earth, but also bowls of incense or pagan jewelry. » The Joint Council Chamber itself, where the council and the House of Integratus meet, speeches are made, and votes are passed. » Madam Z's Own Office, the last stop, where Lilian is invited, even encouraged, to come by whenever she needs. After all, she says, as part of goodbye, "The work we do at the Foundation begins and ends with each other. Vertin has never forgotten that, and neither will I. I hope to have a long working relationship together, Doctor Rook."