The junior priest placed the pamphlet on the desk without ceremony, and Cardinal Vessen did not touch it.
"Where."
"Bookshop. Academic quarter. It was shelved between a geometry primer and a livestock breeding manual." The junior priest — Father Ellam, twenty-six, seminary-trained, assigned to the Cardinal's administrative staff because he was obedient and because obedient men didn't ask questions about why the Cardinal kept sending them to bookshops — stood with his hands clasped. "I purchased it at standard price. Two iron marks."
"Retail."
"Retail."
Vessen looked at the pamphlet lying on his desk. Twelve pages. Cotton-rag paper. Cinnaite ink. The same print stock the Crucible used for catechisms, because the Crucible's licensed printing network was the only one that produced cotton-rag at scale, which meant this pamphlet had been printed on paper that the Crucible's own supply chain had manufactured.
He did not touch it.
"The knowledge-assessment committee approved it?"
