If the students hold their ground, the teacher is next.
I expected it.
That did not make it any less unpleasant.
Interrogator Barkhan Dello closed the individual interrogation records of the four candidates one after another.
Adela.
Liana.
Eveline.
Seria.
Each of the four had held their ground in her own way.
They stopped at the points where they had seemed likely to break, did not answer statements that should not be answered, and did not make the answers of those before them into their own.
It was a good outcome.
And that very good outcome became a blade aimed at me.
‘They did too well.’
‘So someone instructed them.’
‘So the teacher fed them the answers.’
Aristocratic society suspects failure, but it also suspects success.
Especially when those who succeeded are connected to a teacher of common birth.
Barkhan spoke.
"Education Officer Leon Cart. Move to the witness stand."
I was already seated at the witness stand.
But procedurally, he had to call me again.
I stood.
I stepped forward.
I stood at the center of the witness stand.
The candidates were not in the interrogation room.
Once their individual interrogations ended, they had been moved to a separate waiting room.
They could not hear my answers.
Nor could I see their faces.
Was this fair?
No.
But it was useful.
Even if I faltered now, they would not be affected immediately.
Clarisse sat at the procedural advisory desk.
Martin was still outside.
Kaiden and Arsene sat in the observer seats.
Barkhan asked,
"Leon Cart. All four candidates used sentence structures covered in your public lecture hall training. Do you acknowledge this?"
He went straight to the point with the first question.
"I do."
The interrogation room fell silent.
Barkhan’s eyes shifted slightly.
Had he expected me to deny it?
Denying it would have been easier.
But it would have been a lie.
I trained them.
In the public lecture hall.
Before recordkeepers and observers.
I continued.
"However, I did not make them memorize sentences themselves. I trained them in a procedure for distinguishing questions from judgmental statements and limiting themselves to the scope of their own observations."
Recordkeeper Elma wrote it down.
Barkhan asked,
"Does that distinction matter?"
"Yes. Feeding them answers and training them how to answer are different things."
"The candidates all answered in similar ways."
"Because they were subjected to similar pressure."
Barkhan’s hand stopped.
I said,
"Do not answer statements that are not questions. Do not make the unverified answer of someone before you into your own answer. Speak within the scope of what you have seen. Those three things are procedures, not specific answers."
Barkhan looked at me for a moment.
"Does calling it a procedure mean it is no longer coordination?"
A good question.
I steadied my breath.
"No. It could be coordination. That is why we did it in a public lecture hall, with recordkeepers and observers present."
The recordkeeper’s pen moved faster.
"I did not tell the candidates what they had to say in an interrogation. I taught them what they must not say in place of their own words. The records can verify that distinction."
Barkhan looked at Clarisse.
"Procedural Advisory Desk. Do records of the public lecture hall exist?"
Clarisse waited for permission before answering.
When Barkhan nodded, she spoke.
"They do. However, as an interested party, I have no authority to determine the authenticity of the originals. The provisional scribe was Candidate Martin Gray, and the records have been sealed and preserved."
Barkhan said,
"Martin Gray is a candidate. His independence is limited."
Clarisse replied,
"That is why they are reference records, not grounds for determining the authenticity of the originals. However, His Highness Kaiden Astrea and Lord Arsene Berhardt attended as observers. Both observers accepted restrictions on their right to speak."
Barkhan looked toward Kaiden and Arsene.
Kaiden was not smiling.
Neither did Arsene speak.
Barkhan turned back to me.
"Very well. Leon Cart. Do you claim that the candidates answered independently?"
"I do not."
The interrogation room fell silent.
Barkhan’s eyes narrowed.
I continued.
"It would be a lie to say they were completely independent. They received my training. They learned some of my phrasing and were influenced by my judgment. That is why my influence must be entered into the record."
I took a breath.
"However, the records must distinguish whether that influence supplanted the candidates’ own wills, or whether they learned how to protect those wills."
Silence fell.
This was an extension of the answer I had given Kaiden in Chapter 37.
It is both.
My own interests must also be entered into the record.
The same was true this time.
My influence was there.
I could not hide it.
The moment I hid it, Arsene’s private-classroom framing would fit perfectly.
A system window appeared.
[Leon Cart: Educational Influence Acknowledged]
[Direct Response to the Private Manipulation Frame]
[However, your personal interests and influence will be added to the official record.]
Barkhan seized on that point.
"What are your interests?"
Of course.
I said,
"Remaining as the education officer."
The recordkeeper’s pen stopped.
"And ensuring that the candidates are not ruined."
Barkhan asked,
"Ruined?"
Ah.
That word was too strong.
Thoughts of the original story’s routes had nearly slipped out.
I had to be careful.
I immediately corrected myself.
"I retract that. That expression was excessive. I mean ensuring that the candidates do not suffer unfair disciplinary action or irreparable damage to their reputations because of the interrogation and the incident."
Clarisse’s eyes moved ever so slightly.
She had probably noted the word ‘retract.’
Barkhan said,
"If remaining as the education officer is in your interest, then you have a motive to make the candidates dependent on you."
"I do."
Another silence.
I did not evade it.
"That is why, to reduce that risk, I trained the candidates last night not to look to me. In arranging the interrogation room, I did not request a candidate assistance seat."
Kaiden shifted ever so slightly in the observer seats.
It had been Kaiden who proposed that arrangement.
But I had not asked for it.
And I accepted it.
Barkhan asked,
"Then you have both an interest in remaining by the candidates’ side and a procedure intended to keep the candidates from looking to you?"
"Yes."
"Is that not a contradiction?"
"It is a tension. Records are necessary to keep it from becoming a contradiction."
Silence fell.
I continued.
"I want to remain by the candidates’ side. At the same time, I must not become someone they cannot speak without permission from. That is why both my interests and my limitations must be recorded together."
Barkhan was silent for a moment.
A system window appeared.
[Leon Cart: Continued Disclosure of Personal Interests]
[The Educator Dependency Frame Partially Mitigated]
But the interrogator did not stop there.
Barkhan took a small card from the evidence stand.
The speech restriction card.
The card I had lost.
The card with blue writing added to it.
‘Those who can speak learn silence.’
‘Recordkeepers are no exception.’
Barkhan said,
"You lost this card. Do you acknowledge that?"
"I do."
"It may have been used in the forged ledger and the imitation of the recordkeeper’s seal. Do you acknowledge that possibility?"
"I acknowledge the possibility. Whether it was used requires verification."
"And your responsibility for its management?"
"I bear it."
I answered briefly.
If I spoke at length, it would become an excuse.
Barkhan said,
"Does that management failure alone not raise an issue with your qualifications as an education officer?"
That hurt.
It was a fair question.
Losing the card had been my mistake.
Because of that mistake, it might have become possible to forge Clarisse’s seal and a ledger in my name.
I said,
"It does raise an issue."
The interrogation room fell silent.
"Accordingly, I may be subject to disciplinary action or restrictions for that matter. However, responsibility for losing the card and the interrogation eligibility of the four candidates must not be tied to the same conclusion."
Barkhan’s eyes shifted.
"You mean you will accept responsibility for yourself, but want to separate it from the candidates?"
"Yes."
"Convenient."
That was not a question.
It was a provocation.
I said,
"That is not a question. Please ask what you need to ask."
The interrogation room stalled for a moment.
He had likely expected me to use that sentence.
But hearing it firsthand was different.
The teacher used the sentence he had trained them to use.
It could look like collusion.
But at the same time, it was also consistency of procedure.
Barkhan asked quietly,
"You use the same sentence as well."
"Yes. I must follow the procedure I taught."
"Then did the candidates imitate you?"
"The candidates followed the procedure as well. If the procedure is mine alone, that becomes a problem. That is why public records and outside witnesses are necessary."
Barkhan set down the card.
"Leon Cart. Do you want to make the principle you created into a public rule?"
I paused briefly.
A principle.
At first, I had not thought of it as anything so grand.
I only wanted to keep my students from being ruined right away.
I wanted to stop the rumors, organize their words, and avoid dangerous questions.
But somehow, the principle had been posted on a notice board, used in public questioning, and brought into an interrogation room.
This was not the scale I had wanted.
But it had already grown.
I said,
"I do."
The recordkeeper’s pen stopped.
"However, I want it to remain not as my principle, but as a verifiable procedure. My name must not be attached to it."
Barkhan asked,
"Why?"
"If my name is attached to it, the candidates will once again look like my people. A principle must exist apart from the person who made it."
Silence fell.
For the first time, Kaiden raised his hand.
A request for an observer to speak.
Barkhan considered it briefly.
"Your Highness. You may have one sentence."
Kaiden said,
"A good principle must be able to endure without the person who made it."
He said nothing more.
The recordkeeper wrote it down.
Arsene looked at Kaiden.
Then he looked at me.
His expression was difficult to read.
Barkhan posed his final question.
"Leon Cart. Can you present evidence that the answers shown by the four candidates in today’s interrogation were not your answer sheet?"
That was the heart of it.
A teacher is not an answer sheet.
But how could I prove it?
I trained them.
I taught them phrasing.
I made the principles.
The sentences they used resembled my lessons.
I was silent for a moment.
Then I said,
"I cannot present it."
The interrogation room fell silent.
Barkhan’s eyes gleamed very faintly.
I continued.
"The evidence is in the candidates’ answers. Candidate Eveline Rosette said that she was afraid. I could not have instructed that answer. Candidate Liana Bell said she would not answer whether she was a good person. I could not make that decision for her. Candidate Seria Blanc herself stated the limits of testimony that favored her as a victim. Candidate Adela Carmion pointed out the Secretariat’s interests and acknowledged her own possibility as well."
I drew in a breath.
"Those answers are not answers that are solely advantageous to me. That is why they are not my answer sheet."
Silence.
Recordkeeper Elma’s pen moved.
Slowly.
But without stopping.
A system window appeared.
[Leon Cart: Key Response in Witness Interrogation Successful]
[Private Manipulation Frame Weakened]
[However, the education officer’s management responsibility remains in the official record.]
Barkhan looked at me for a long while.
Then he said,
"The witness interrogation of Leon Cart is concluded."
It was over.
Was it really?
No.
The conclusion still remained.
Barkhan had the recordkeeper gather all the records.
He rang a small bell at the front of the interrogation room.
A clear chime.
"Prepare for the first determination in the preliminary inquiry for provisional admission. The four candidates and Education Officer Leon Cart are to wait before the determination chamber."
The determination chamber.
I would be able to see the four of them again.
But we still could not speak.
I rose from my seat.
My legs felt a little heavy.
Was it because I had stayed awake all night?
Or because the tension was only now leaving me?
The door opened.
At the end of the corridor stood the four of them.
Adela.
Liana.
Eveline.
Seria.
They looked at me.
This time, it was all right to look.
The interrogation was over.
But no one spoke first.
Good.
The determination still remained.
We needed to be sparing with our words.
I only nodded.
Each of the four gave a small nod in return.
That was enough.
For now.
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