He sat on a simple chair in a large hall watching a monitor at the far end of the room. The monitor showed a high ceilinged office room, ancient dark faux wood panels, desk and other furniture surrounded a small officious man with a beak like nose and round spectacles. It was a strange thought, but technically everyone in this room was related to him. He knew a few of them, but hardly enough to feel comfortable.

Great-great grandmother Mirabelle, or as he and most of the rest of the family called her 'maam', was a formidable woman. She had been a Consul at the Guild of Reeves until her retirement only a couple of decades ago. The rank was unclear to him, it was not the very top, but he suspected from all of this pomp and circumstance that she was not far off. The Guild of Reeves was also who the lawyer on the screen belonged to, along with every accountant, administrator and banker on this planet and many more besides. Of course position may not be the only reason for the assembly, the one thing the Reeves had in abundance was bureaucracy, yet he suspected that the guild would not go through the effort of arranging every member of Mirabelle's vast family without both a good reason and ensuring the event was fully paid for in advance.

Thanks to some impossibly expensive elixor treatments Mirabelle had managed to outlive the last of her four children by just over forty years. From the anecdotes being shared around the room everyone here had been summoned to the house for a couple of days, every few years. They had all been required to provide the old woman with an update on their lives, accomplishments, etc. They were all comparing the experience to some sort of business report or appraisal. They did not know one another, but they all shared that experience. It was bringing them together.

So far the reading of the will had taken over an hour. Aunt Agatha had stormed into the lawyer's room several times already, everyone knew her. They had all been to the house and she had been in attendance of the old crone for as long as anyone could remember. In fact most considered her to be the head of the family. If they were a noble house, she may well fit the comparison. In this case her efforts to push the process along quicker were succeeding in nothing more than causing delay. Aunt Agatha had clearly not encountered the blunt walls of pure uncompromising bureaucracy, even with her experience as the old woman's housekeeper. Auntie Agatha was Mirabelle's primary carer and almost permanent companion. She had been in this role her entire life, having left school at the age of only sixteen to take over from her grandmother. Her role in the family also included the self imposed role of deputy manager, she arranged the dates of everyone's visits so that there were few clashes. To arrive unannounced met with a stern sniff and the lordly poise of any long serving ladies maid or butler. Everyone was expecting the primary inheritance, the vast wealth and the house to go to her. She was in no two minds either judging by the way she was lording it over the gathering.

The house was a terraced house, but there were smaller office buildings. It was run like a hotel, with Auntie Agatha doing the majority of the house work and the 'guests', chipping in whenever they stayed too. It was never possible to get the place to be actually clean though, the house was simply too big for the family to cope with. The house was also in one of the most exclusive regions of Reeve city. One of the lesser populated regions of the city planet of Liberty. This planet had been the seat of the second republic. In fact it's history dated back to the foundations of the second republic. Although there were many changes underway, and one of those included a change in name to the vast city world the city in which the Guild of Reeves resided was still the financial and administrative centre of the universe. A house in the nicest district here was a level of wealth even he could barely imagine. Though he had spent an hour lost in a day dream wondering what it would be like to be that lucky. He knew of course that the old woman would not consider him fondly. He had missed most of his 'appraisals' these last few years and she was notoriously strict about that sort of thing.

Mirabelle was not a pleasant woman. Cold, calculating and stern were more apt descriptive words. But they would not do justice to the hard faced stare she imposed during a visit to her house. This gathering was viewed as the results of decades of judgement. it was said that if a Reeve ever accidentally found a soul, that it would have been Consul Mirabelle that would have burned it out of them. It occurred to him, and it made him chuckle with the thought. That the only word that really fitted the woman was 'terrifying'.

He had been summoned every couple of years of his life. First with his parents, then after he was sent to study as a reeve at Sophonos College, aka the Great University, on his own. His entire life he had watched the old lady drink an extremely pungent liquid. She had never shared the drink with anyone, not even the ever dutiful Auntie Agatha. On his first solo visit he dared to ask what the substance was. Mirabelle was derisive, she did not answer, but she seemed to think less of him for not knowing. He found out from Auntie Agatha that it was coffee.

It had been a mistake to even mention it at university, it was in his mind like many pipe dreams of the time and when it was mentioned by Daryl Pustner who claimed to have seen it served at one of his father's functions. He asked Daryl about the smell, and Daryl had grown defensive. It was a meanigless challenge really, but Daryl had been ousted as a liar and had forced the act of proving it onto him. Though he had not himself made any such claim, to oppose Daryl was a key battle in the war for classroom popularity. Having simply claimed to have once smelled coffee was one thing, but if he could bring some back and show the class he would win.

Some may have said that the cost for victory should be considered before embarking upon any wartime strategy. The old woman had already summoned him, he was going all the way into the Reeve guild city that weekend. It was his second solo visit, which corresponded with his second year at university. There were three other relatives of a similar age that year, all studying at the great university, but only he was training to be a reeve. He felt proud to announce his successes in front of them at the dinner table. The old woman judged him emotionlessly as always, and his cousins were annoyed. He though little of either fact at the time. On the last evening he snuck into the kitchen and after a lengthy search found the coffee tin. Is was old and clearly high tech. It opened with a 'hiss', he scooped out a couple of spoonfulls into a resealable plastic bag. Carefully replaced everything with a care which any cat burglar would have been proud of and returned to his room. He attended both breakfast and lunch with a growing guilt, the old woman's ever present stare almost made him crumble but he held his nerve and was soon showing the powder of at school. His only problem was that he had no idea how to prepare it. He thought that it mixed with water in a pot, simply because a little pot containing the prepared liquid came with an empty cup when Mirabelle drank it. He tested the theory and the smell seemed right, really strong. He tasted it. It was pretty disgusting. He cunningly challenged Daryl to make the coffee, to cover his own lack of knowledge. Daryl however responded in kind, he confessed to ignorance and it was not long before pride was being thrown against the ramparts like a forlorn hope. He did his best, it smelled right, it tasted disgusting. Kind of gritty and bitter. Daryl and the other's laughed at him. They claimed it had been a hoax and that he was double the fool for drinking the disgusting juice.

He had then fought a different set of battles, his psi powers started to manifest and he struggled to keep them from keeping him back too. The battle for popularity was a life or death game and he had suffered a severe defeat. With the onset of his overactive brain clouding his thoughts and emotions with the feelings of people around him he was tumbling rapidly down the house of cards which constituted his university friends. He learned that too much knowledge was a dangerous thing. He also learned that friends and allies are fickle and willing to turn their backs on you at a moments notice. That may not have been the best of lessons, but he learned it all the same.

The invitation to the house came just after the exam season started, he was due to attend the day following the final one. It was his final year and his grades had fallen dramatically. In fact it would be a miracle if he passed them at all. The stress of that imminent visit only made his exam performance worse. What was the old woman going to say?

He stepped out of the cab and climbed the steps like a man going to his own funeral. The door opened and the frail form of Mirabelle herself was stood there before him. She looked furious. At the time he thought she already knew the results of the exams he had taken only the day before. But as she held up the coffee tin he remembered that twelve months earlier he had stolen from her. He kicked himself for forgetting about his crime and wished as hard as he could to simply be somewhere else. The cousins he had tried to impress with his student success thankfully did not seem to be present. Neither did Auntie Agatha.
"why?" she asked, he felt the words slash at him like a steel clawed whip
"I .. erm .. ", and then mustering the kind of courage only a trully doomed man can he stood straight up and said "I wanted to taste it, it is coffee isn't it?" in the tone of a pitiful clueless child. "I'm sorry grandmother but I was curious and could not help myself."
she turned and hobled on her cane towards the kitchen muttering in a bitter tone "you sound like a pitiful clueless child". he followed silent and ashamed

In the kitchen she sat him down, showed him the skill of coffee preparation and how to use the various implements. She explained the need for the vacuum canister in which she kept her blend, the age of the beans and how they are grown, and transported across the universe. To a boy who had only ever eaten flavoured and artificially textured kibble this was a remarkable treat. It was also why he coveted the reputation as someone who could get coffee at school. He studied this brief ten minute lesson with great interest. Intent on remembering every single detail he could, the smell, the texture of the mixture, the temperature, the density of the steam everything. Finally after the work was complete he was permitted a cup of real coffee. It did not taste like it had done, it was clearly prepared properly. However he did not like it.
"It is an acquired taste" the ancient woman explained.
They sat and drank the rest of the cup in silence. She watched him through her stern eyes, ever judgemental. But, his lie and the persona he had adopted had got him this teat where no other family member he knew had even come close. He felt a wave of devious cunning and success. It felt good to lie. To be on top again.


After the drink was finished, he lied "I could get used to that."
The ancient woman laughed. It was not a pleasant noise, more of a snort of derision actually. After it was clear there was not much else to say rather than start with the request for her usual report she told him to tidy up and retire when the kitchen was the way they had found it. She hobbled off to bed without looking back.

Auntie Agatha was present at breakfast the next morning. He felt that he had developed a connection with the old lady. He risked smiling at her. She did not reciprocate. Shortly after that Auntie Agatha disappeared to do some chores. He knew his job was to tidy the dining room and the kitchen and set to work. After a few trips back and forth the sound of a mechanical cleaning aide sucking air loudly could be heard from somewhere far away. The old woman grabbed his arm suddenly and said, "I know you took it because you were curious, and you wanted to show off to your friends. And you came up with that silly lie instead."

He panicked, he hung his head in shame and apologised repeatedly. Then she said "Your concerns over you exams are founded in fact, you will fail, you will never become a member of the reeves guild. That was most likely the only coffee you will ever taste, you pitiful wretched child." Her voice was quiet, venomous and bitter. It seethed rage like she was an entirely different person. He lost his temper at this, and against all decorum he argued back "what should I have done instead then?" he shouted at the frail old lady.
The old woman sat and stared fixedly at him, she seemed on the one hand absolutely confident. And on the other just as enraged as he was.
After a few seconds he realised his error. He thought about taking it all back and tried to think of some way he could undo the damage he had just caused.
The old woman laughed, it was another snort of derision, but this time she was smiling. Her face softened and in an instant she looked like the old lady he had met the night before who had taught him how to make real coffee, the face was his great-great grandmother in both cases, but her demeanour was so different he struggled to see her as the same person. "Looks like you do have a backbone after all, heh." She said slightly out of breath. He smiled slightly thinking the mood was changing for the better but she snapped and was once again the angry woman that had only just shouted at him "Now why did you apologise, no lie will ever work if you apologise."
A long period of silence passed, Auntie Agatha wandered in and detected the silence in the air. "Ooh, it's cold in here granny, shall I put on the chemfire for you? perhaps a nice cup of tea to wash down breakfast?"
He looked at her and realised then how clueless Auntie Agatha actually was. He could see the lie she had just told floating in the air. She had clearly heard the old woman snap at him, she was trying to change the subject, she was trying to control the situation. And then he wondered if his great-great grandmother could also see it. That is, see it like he could, like a psychic could. Mirabelle was staring at him. He felt at that moment a level of terror he has never felt before nor since. Yet there was no evidence for the feeling, there was nothing tangible that could threaten him. She was after all, already a pretty scary old lady. But there was something else there, a sharpness and a clarity which he could not explain. Like a predatory beast meeting another in the wilds of some distant planet where such creatures still roamed wild and untamed. Sizing each other up, the weaker one (him) recognising the power of the other (her) and deciding to back down. He took the hint.
After Auntie Agatha departed he stood proudly and said "It was as I said Maam, I was curious. I apologise only for having stolen from you because that is the only thing I have to apologise for." he lied, he knew full well that she knew everything about him, that there was nothing he could hide from her and he realised that he had been a fool, he realised that he had indeed tried to show off and nothing more. The rest were words that hurt, but he could not show consent to them.
"Good" the old woman said sternly "because consent to the truth even in the face of the simplest of lies could mean death."
He discarded the fact they had been private thoughts. "Can you teach me more?" he asked after Auntie Agatha had entered with a tray of sythcaf tea in a pot, with china cups from old urth, and then departed.
"No" the stern old woman said kindly, "There are no lessons, there is no skill. You must hide and reveal it Never, no matter who, no matter what. Tell your beloved, or your most trusted friend and you will see them leave you and the hunt for your head will make you hate them, or worse you will see them perish."
"Are you sure, because there are 40 billion people on this planet and .. well there are laws. Aren't there?" He asked confused
"Laws are to protect the majority and the common. The uncommon are persecuted, the rare killed in secret when no-one is watching and when no-one will notice they have gone." said the old woman

He left that afternoon, he had not been invited back. That had been eight years ago.

The lawyers assistant strode into the hall, her shoes echoed on the tiled floor. It was his turn. Like the other groups he stood, gathered his things carefully and walked into the room. He was aware that the reading was being broadcast onto the monitor and that a couple of hundred relatives he did not know would all hear some tidbit of information about him, some mundane reason for the pointless trinket he was about to receive.


The lawyer was lost behind a mountain of paperwork. The room smelled dusty, and stale. The lawyer took a sip from his water glass then read out the section of the will which pertained to one of the dozen people in this group. It was like a bizarre game show. "Consul Mirabelle recognised your studies, and was proud that you attained the grade of 'distinction' in the courses of human studies, and theology at Sophonos College. Seventeeenth row, quadrant three descendant of son Paul bracket deceased bracket, relative of numerical identification number six hundred and twenty two."
As with all of the previous four groups to have entered the chamber, and for all to see a girl stood up and said "I'm Julia, I erm ..."
she was cut off curtly by the lawyers hand, he looked down at the paper in front of him. "Box 622, sign on the panel" he said. She walked silently forwards, the lawyers assistant handed her a small plain box and indicated a thumb print was required. She was still stood at his desk when the lawyer began reading the next item, she decided to come clean to the room and of course the onlookers from outside "erm, I only got a pass actually ..."
The lawyer stopped reading, looked up and said. "The item is for 'Seventeeenth row, quadrant three descendant of son Paul bracket deceased bracket, relative of numerical identification number six hundred and twenty two'. Either you are that person or you are not."
"Erm, well I'm not really sure" she answered, "I'm not sure what the quadrant thingie stuff all means."
"Ignorance is no excuse. Fine 65 credits for time wasting." a machine bleeped somewhere in the room "can you pay immediately or do you require incarceration to renumerate the incident."
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asked confused, "I don't understand"
"Ignorance is no excuse. Fine 25 credits for time wasting." a machine bleeped somewhere in the room "can you pay immediately or do you require incarceration to renumerate the incident."
"Wait was that cumulative? erm, look I can pay with the thing inside the box." she said
The lawyer and the assistant looked at each other, then the assistant reached for the box as the lawyer stated. "Either you are relative 622 or you are not"
"I am, I am" she said, grasping at the box.
"Good, then the hand scanner does contain the correct data and you will not need to pay for it to be recalibrated." said the lawyer
"ahh, well. ok." she said and turned to make her way back to her seat.
The lawyer caughed. "The fine miss.." he said exasperated, but without explanation.
"Oh, erm. well I can't really .. well you see .. " she stuttered
He looked around the room he was in, they were like vultures, each greedily eyeing up her mystery box. He stood up and said "What my cousin means mr. reader is that I will be paying her fine for her." he strode forwards and pressed his thumb to the scanner. It read his DNA and confirmed his reeve bank details. The funds were displayed and he told the machine "confirm". The lawyer shrugged and returned to the last place his was at without further comment. When he sat down cousin Julia, incidentally a girl he actually recognised from his first two solo visits with Mirabelle, whispered "thank you so much, I don't even have that kind of money."
"That's ok, hopefully no-one else will have failed to read the family chart. They've kept it locked away for a century in the deepest vault for all, who have access, appropriate security clearance and the foresight to have studied it prior to it being moved before the will reading, to see." he said with a wink
"shh" she answered, "if they hear you you'll be punished for revealing their secrets" they both sniggered, the lawyers glared, but said nothing as the next prospective owner was handed a brass birdcage containing a 'non-functional bird golem' though he would have described the morbid curiosity as a dusty model bird.
"Consul Mirabelle recognised your studies, she recognised that you studied hard for your courses as a reeve, administration and taxation. You did not pass, but she noted your honesty in all things and felt a career in the reeves would not have suited you anyway. Seventeeenth row, quadrant four descendant of youngest daughter Jessica bracket deceased bracket, relative of numerical identification number six hundred and twenty seven."
It took a while, but as nobody else had stood and the lawyer had read it out a second time he realised it was him. He was handed the little high tech vacuum coffee container, it had been tagged with the number 627 on the lid. It actually brought a smile to his face.

The day wore on, he and Julia chatted for a while. And he started to become more friendly with his estranged family.
The room fell silent as the penultimate dozen were given various large items of furniture. A desk, a bureau, a high backed armchair which the at that time also very old Mirabelle had apparently raced around and chased the elderly man it was being given too, when he was a young child. He decided to ask Julia "Any idea how old she actually was?"
"Not a clue, Paul her third son was my great-great grandfather. Does that help?" she answered after giving it a bit of thought, "oh and the woman who was given the small writing desk is my grandmother, so that would have been her actual grand-daughter. She's 76," then after a short pause by way of explanation "we went to her birthday last month."
"I'm not sure it does actually, did you just skip a generation?" he answered
"Dunno, My dad says she used to take some expensive drug that made her young. Didn't keep her going forever though. Anyway turns out I got this gold bracelet in the box. What did you get?" she changed the subject, giving up on the complicated maths
"Oh, I didn't look. I figured it was just the coffee container." he answered
"Hey if it is real coffee it'll be worth more than a gold bracelet, go on. Let me see." she said
"Oh, ok" he said. He pressed the vacuum release and was greeted by the aroma of fresh coffee. However the pot did not have any coffee in it. What was there instead was a strange crystal on a black metal chain.
"Hey I used to go through all of her old stuff when I was a kid, I've never seen that before. Looks kind of girly for you though." Julia said, and she was right it was a girls necklace. He laughed and took the hint, she was hoping he'd give it to her. He quickly put it on and she laughed. A waiter came past with more fizzy wine in expensive clear plasteel flutes. The final group was going in.

Each one was granted yet more furniture. Though the items were more valuable, the ancient rug from the parlour. The think machine from the study. Then finally it was Auntie Agatha's turn. She was not only last but the house and the fortune had still not yet been granted to anyone, the room was silent.

"This grandfather clock is the heart of the family home and an ancient heirloom which travelled the universe with our ancestors before it cam into my possession. There can be no more fitting reward for the years of dedicated service Agatha has shown me."

The gasp was deafening.

"but .. but what about the house?" asked Auntie Agatha, tears welling up in her eyes.
"What of it?" retorted the lawyer matter of factly "The house belongs to the office of the Consul, not to your great-grandmother."
"Wait, that can't be true. She retired years ago." fought Agatha
"Yes, the house was initially granted with a number of servants. However to save money and to increase revenue your great-grandmother dismissed them in favour of her daughter's mediocre cleaning skills. The office of the Consul benefitted greatly with the sacrifice that she endured. The house was later granted to her as part of her pension remuneration package, as such she was permitted to remain in residency until the time of her death. She continued to endure the house without a qualified guild cleaner, and as such received a number of additional perks from the saving. Coffee for example. These perks were restricted in quantity so as to be sufficient for her own personal use of course."
"HER Sacrifice!" Auntie Agatha was furious and in tears "I've slaved for her for my entire life, my mother before did just the same .."
The lawyer cut her off "Your occupation choices are not a matter for discussion at a will reading, and given your age it would not be likely that you can be retrained anyway."
The assistant then ushered the final group out of the room. Auntie Agatha stopped at the door, "Wait, these items are only about half of the junk she had, what have you done with the rest of it?"
The lawyer sighed and checked the clock on the wall before answering "The remainder of her possessions were sold to pay for these proceedings, her funeral arrangements, which will be a modest state affair restricted to the city of the Reeves and a number of ancillary arrangements associated with those elements.
"You mean you've kept the rest of my money for yourself, you greedy .." Auntie Agatha was dragged out of earshot by a cousin.
The lawyer calmly picked up a mike on his desk and stated "deduct remuneration for the false allegations and an additional fourteen minutes of my and my assistants time. Session closes sixteen thirteen."
The screen at the end of the room went blank, Auntie Agatha and the others emerged, she was distraught with grief.