Chapter 275: A Question of Trust

The Thirteenth Society possessed an impressive amount of money for an organization supposedly run by students.

That was Ilya’s first conclusion after examining its financial records.

The membership contributions alone couldn’t account for everything. Several committees maintained independent funds, wealthy members occasionally provided private donations, and certain academic projects received assistance from organizations outside Holy Trinity Academy.

None of this was particularly unusual.

An association filled with talented students from influential families would naturally attract resources. What interested Ilya was how those resources moved between committees and how the society determined which requests deserved approval.

Most expenditures were documented properly.

The engineering committee purchased specialized components and maintained its equipment. The academic committee acquired research materials, while the historical committee spent much of its funding preserving privately donated collections.

Then there was the restricted project.

Its official designation consisted of a number and a committee reference, accompanied by an expenditure large enough to finance several ordinary student projects.

The approval bore the president’s authorization.

However, the description explained almost nothing.

Ilya examined the entry again before setting it aside.

He could simply request clarification. The president had invited him to review the accounts, after all.

Still, he wanted to understand the surrounding arrangements before approaching anyone.

A poorly informed question was easy to dismiss.

A properly researched one was much harder.

Fortunately, he had two companions who were becoming increasingly useful.

Tristan examined the records during their afternoon break and immediately identified several details Ilya had overlooked.

The society’s internal accounting resembled the arrangements used by private aristocratic associations, particularly those that maintained separate funds for confidential activities.

Such practices weren’t necessarily suspicious.

Some noble families donated resources under conditions of anonymity, while others required their contributions to be spent on particular projects.

"The restricted designation could simply protect a donor’s identity," Tristan explained.

"That’s possible."

"Although the amount is unusual."

"That’s what interests me."

Garen, meanwhile, was examining the engineering committee’s expenditure reports.

He had discovered that several components listed among its purchases had never appeared in the workshop’s ordinary inventory.

At first, he assumed the materials had been misplaced.

Then he noticed their quantities.

"Why would anyone need twelve calibrated mana conductors of this specification?"

Ilya examined the entry.

The components were expensive, but their purpose wasn’t immediately obvious.

Garen explained that they were commonly used in equipment requiring stable mana transmission over extended periods. Ordinary measuring apparatuses rarely required so many.

"Maybe they’re building something bigger," Tristan suggested.

"Then where is it?" Garen asked.

That was a reasonable question.

The engineering workshop contained several ambitious projects, but none large enough to justify the missing components.

Ilya compared the purchase dates against the restricted expenditure.

They occurred during the same period.

Interesting.

However, the connection remained circumstantial.

The society might simply have funded a confidential engineering project.

There was no reason to assume the materials had been misused.

Still, Ilya decided to visit the engineering committee with Garen.

The workshop was occupied when they arrived, with several students conducting experiments and assembling equipment.

Garen had already become familiar with most of the members.

His recent repairs had earned him a favorable reputation, and several upper-year students greeted him enthusiastically.

Apparently, being useful was an effective method of making friends.

Ilya approved.

It was certainly more economical than purchasing expensive gifts.

They approached the committee’s inventory officer and requested clarification concerning the missing components.

The officer examined the records before explaining that the materials had been transferred to another project.

"Which project?" Garen asked.

"I’m afraid that’s restricted."

Ilya presented his authorization from the president.

The officer reviewed it carefully.

Unfortunately, the document permitted him to examine financial summaries, not confidential project specifications.

That distinction mattered.

The officer was following established procedure.

Ilya accepted the explanation and thanked him.

Garen seemed disappointed.

"I thought we’d finally figured out where everything went."

"We know the materials were transferred legitimately," Ilya replied. "That’s already useful."

"Legitimately according to the records."

"Yes. Which is all we can establish for now."

There was little benefit in pressuring someone who lacked authority to disclose the information.

Instead, they returned to the Magic Department and continued their ordinary activities.

However, the matter remained on Ilya’s mind.

The society had provided him with enough information to identify an unusual expenditure, yet its procedures prevented him from examining the underlying project.

That suggested either poor administrative coordination or deliberate compartmentalization.

Both were plausible.

He intended to ask the president which explanation applied.

The opportunity arrived sooner than expected.

That evening, Margarethe von Adlerheim delivered a request for Ilya to attend a meeting at the Old Astronomical Hall.

The president wanted to discuss his preliminary observations.

Ilya accepted.

The meeting took place in the same private study where they’d previously spoken.

This time, Margarethe was also present, carrying several documents concerning the society’s committees.

The president welcomed him warmly.

"I understand you’ve been examining our records."

"Yes. Most of the accounts are straightforward."

"I’m pleased to hear that."

"However, there’s a restricted expenditure I couldn’t verify."

The president seemed unsurprised.

He explained that the society occasionally supported confidential student projects, particularly when premature disclosure could compromise original research.

Such arrangements were permitted under its charter.

The project in question had received approval through the appropriate procedures.

Ilya accepted the explanation.

"Then should I exclude it from my review?"

"That would be sensible."

"Understood. I’ll identify it as an expenditure outside the scope of the available records."

Margarethe appeared satisfied.

The president, however, considered the response for a moment.

"You won’t simply accept that the expenditure was properly authorized?"

"I accept that it was approved. I can’t verify how the money was used without examining the supporting documents."

The distinction was straightforward.

Ilya wasn’t accusing anyone of misconduct.

He simply refused to certify something he hadn’t examined.

The president smiled.

"A careful answer."

"I’d prefer not to discover later that I’ve accidentally approved someone else’s expensive hobby."

Margarethe laughed.

The atmosphere remained pleasant.

After reviewing several ordinary recommendations, the president thanked Ilya for his assistance and informed him that the society intended to reorganize its committee procedures during the coming term.

His report would be useful.

However, before dismissing him, the president raised another matter.

"There’s something I’d like to ask you, Belozersky."

"Of course."

"How much do you trust your fellow members?"

Ilya considered the question.

He’d only belonged to the society for a short time. Most of its members were still unfamiliar to him, although several had demonstrated considerable talent and professionalism.

"I trust them according to what I’ve seen."

"A cautious approach."

"People generally earn trust through their actions."

The president agreed.

However, he explained that the society depended on members extending assistance to one another even when they lacked extensive personal relationships.

Without that willingness, its network of cooperation would collapse.

Ilya understood the principle.

Nevertheless, there was a difference between offering someone an opportunity and granting them unrestricted access to one’s resources.

The former encouraged cooperation.

The latter required confidence.

He explained that distinction.

The president seemed interested.

"Then perhaps you’ll find our next gathering particularly educational."

Ilya wondered what that meant.

Unfortunately, the president declined to elaborate.

He merely informed him that the society would soon conduct an activity intended to examine trust between members.

The invitation would arrive within several days.

Ilya thanked him and departed.

As he returned toward the academy’s main buildings, he considered the conversation.

The president had answered his questions reasonably, and the society’s internal procedures appeared more developed than those of most student organizations.

Yet something about the restricted project continued bothering him.

The problem wasn’t that its details remained confidential.

Research organizations frequently protected sensitive information.

What interested him was the relationship between the president’s request for an independent review and his refusal to provide the documents necessary to complete it.

If the expenditure was legitimately confidential, excluding it from the review was appropriate.

However, that also meant the president already understood the limitations of the assignment when he’d offered it.

Perhaps he wanted to see whether Ilya recognized those boundaries.

Or perhaps he was testing how readily a new member would accept an explanation from someone in authority.

Both possibilities were worth considering.

Later that evening, Ilya met Tristan and Garen outside the academy library.

Garen had spent the afternoon repairing another instrument, while Tristan had been reviewing historical correspondence obtained through his sponsor.

Ilya summarized his meeting with the president.

Tristan listened carefully.

"At least he didn’t attempt to prevent you from recording the limitation."

"True."

"Then we have no grounds to question the expenditure itself."

"Agreed."

Garen seemed less satisfied.

"Still, I want to know what they’re building."

Ilya smiled.

"That’s because you’re an engineer."

"Exactly. If someone bought twelve expensive conductors, I want to know what they’re using them for."

Tristan suggested that the matter might become clearer once they gained greater access to the society’s internal activities.

For now, they had little reason to interfere.

Ilya agreed.

There was no point treating every confidential project as evidence of wrongdoing.

However, the president’s announcement concerning their next gathering intrigued him.

An exercise designed to examine trust between members could take many forms.

Given the society’s previous activities, he doubted it would be particularly ordinary.

Garen seemed delighted by the possibility.

Tristan appeared interested as well.

Ilya merely hoped that whatever the organizers had planned, it wouldn’t involve another agreement requiring someone to read twelve pages of conditions.

He’d already developed enough experience with those to qualify for an honorary position in the Imperial bureaucracy.