6 — A Murder Two months after Daelus began his delegated duties, something happened.

  Early in the night, a well respected member of the delegation was murdered–strangled to death. This was discovered when the perpetrator turned himself in. The murderer was described as being tall and nky, and most importantly, immediately recognized as the delegate's own entourage.

  This was, on its face, perplexing.Impressive and versatile as they were, entourage could not act nor exist in any way independently of their delegate. They needed instruction, or at least a tempte of an expected behavior if they encountered a situation they had no instructions for. They could not be spontaneous. They didn’t think. They could react but only in ways that they had been preconditioned to react.With this in mind, what had reportedly transpired was not completely inexplicable. An entourage projection could be set in motion to perform a series of tasks without a delegate’s supervision or participation. They may also be given the will to act almost with reflex instinct–otherwise they wouldn't make good bodyguards. So, some combination of these uses may, one could imagine, with some horrible bad luck, result in a delegate's own death. It would be a stretch to call this a murder, but many are prone to hyperbole, and this could easily be seen as such a case.

  It grew more complex. Mere hours after turning itself in, the entourage was seen reacting to its environment with uncanny lucidity for what should have been a marionette with no one at the strings. As uncannily as it had turned itself in, it escaped from its cell, drawing on knowledge the delegate could not possibly have known before his demise.

  As Daelus took in the news, he couldn’t stop thinking about what this meant. While the other delegates theorized and panicked or enacted eborate pns to hunt down and capture the rogue puppet, Daelus' mind was set on an entirely different track.

  “What was his name?” Daelus asked Grégoire.

  Grégoire, like Johnathan, was a curious sort – far more than most in their society - and like Johnathan that curiosity was closely linked to what he was delegated to do: control an institute of science research. The actual role assigned to him was to keep a close eye on scientific progress and keep society stable. The Benefactors disapproved of areas progress considered unnatural, and it was Gregoure’s job to do the culling.

  “Randall Cunningham,” the researcher replied, still reading over the report Johnathan had prepared and disseminated about the event with his usual lightning-fast proficiency. From his tone it was clear that he was concentrating and would not speak again until asked another question.

  Daelus and Grégoire began colboration due to the slight overp with Daelus' delegated task of operating a museum. Artifacts would be liberated from neighboring nations–work that (regretfully) forced Daelus to colborate with Jossimer. These would then be dispyed at Daelus’ museum in a fashion intended to paint the rest of the world as uncivilized, yet worthy of uplifting. The two of them had to draw upon the same set of resources to do their work, so they often encountered one another while visiting the delegates’ lodge. Soon they began comparing notes and assisting one another.

  The two of them met nearly every week. Normally after a brief meeting they’d share a drink in the same chamber where Daelus’ welcome party was held, before returning home. Tonight’s commotion, which had transpired not long before their arrival, compelled them to stay a bit longer and discover what was going on.

  Daelus pushed on. “And how was he using this entourage? Anything peculiar?”

  “Fully automated.” This topic seemed to activate Grégoire. He put the report down and leaned forward. “He and the projection seemed to almost never be seen together. Its predetermined routine was that of an enforcer. It made the rounds, collected the protection fees, and, according to Grégoire when asked, would alert him and only require additional instructions in the case of a collection gone bad. Jaegré–”

  “Jaegré?”

  “It's what the entourage called itself.” A delegate naming their projections was not unusual, but Grégoire’s choice of words were.

  “Curious…” Daelus said with deep contemption. He knew they wouldn’t allow this killer of delegates to get away. If he couldn’t be imprisoned he’d be…It was likely that the delegation would send Kaite. She was the one the delegation called when they needed someone to disappear. She and Daelus had only ever interacted once. The memory of that encounter still stung, slightly. “And we're sure it was his entourage? Couldn’t another delegate have just copied? As a misdirect?”

  “Oh, no, it was his, of that there’s no doubt. Randall was very boisterous about his affinity to the ability and very often called an audience when he had developed a new technique with Jaegré. We all bore witness to the thing’s development. Another among us wouldn’t be able to replicate it so perfectly, and it would take years to fine tune its behavior the way Randall had.”

  “And he kept notes? About the process?” Daelus knew this was forbidden. He asked anyway.

  “Oh, I suppose he must have. Johnathan would know, and likely could get his hands on them before they’re destroyed. But you must wait your turn, dear friend. I call first dibs! Besides, didn't you say you had no interest in the ability? Couldn't get the knack for it? Threw in the towel?”

  “I did say that,” Daelus replied slowly. “Very well, then. Second dibs.”