They're grumbling to each other and he has better hearing. His eyes widen. "You'll get their names," he says to the police, "and then someone can go fetch them later if the evidence justifies it."

         "You can't obstruct an investigation."

"I'm obstructing the thwacking of unarrested people with sticks, and telling you how an investigation in my building can be conducted with less dramatics."

        Guard thwacks Peka with a stick. Macalaurë grabs his arm and they glare at each other. Other guard radios for the van for moving reds and polluted evidence.

         "I think some of the ones who got away had knives," says the guard who is glaring at Macalaurë. "Attempted murder."

"I didn't see any knives."

         "You're not a trained police officer, you're a singing politician."

"What were the ones without knives here to do, then?"

         "Maybe light the building on fire. Terrorism and arson and more attempted murder."

"You're just making things up."

         "You're pretending the swarm of garbage listening in on your office were all music connoisseurs who doubtless didn't report the security breach only because their pocket everythings are temporarily out of battery, and I'm making things up?"

"You don't need to arrest them."

         "We're absolutely arresting them."

Peka squeaks when thwacked, brings up her arms to shield her head. ...hums a snatch of a song he was singing, so so quietly.

Guards march them out. He goes with them.

"I'monprobationIcan'tgetintroubleagainwewerejustlisteningtoyousinging -" Whispering.

They reach the police van. "We should add security to all the tunnels," he says. "So we can see who's going in and out, make sure it matches work orders."

         "Uh huh."

"Until then I don't want it in the news, if anyone is using it for spying -"

       "These ones might've been."

"You don't send seven people for spying, you send a microphone. I don't want it on the books. Investigate - quietly - but send them home now."

        The guards glance at each other. "We can take them in and say it's sensitive. Why do you care -"

"Because I asked people to look into it and heard shrieking a minute later and feel obliged to see that through."

       "Then you can come back with us."

Sigh. "How're you going to check if they have microphones -"

      "There's a red cop."

"Can I talk to him?"

       "Her. You can talk to all the garbage you want but she doesn't get to decide her friends go loose either." Cop pokes reds towards the van with the stick.

Reds go. Peka sobs quietly.

He paces frustratedly. 

Cops close the door. Van drives off.

They call the red cop and tell her that some reds were skulking in the government building without a work order, might've been spying.

Red cop searches them and finds pocket everythings and nothing more spylike or weapon-shaped, none of which have upload streaming apps or recordings of anything that isn't singing. Peka contacts the babysitter and explains and disconsolately picks out tunes on the prison piano.

Somebody walks into the red prison.

Reds are startled and back away and some of them bow.

He looks around for Peka. He looks relieved when he sees her. "I'm sorry."

"You tried."

"I told them to check it out in the first place, I didn't know the tunnel was there - we should have security to stand around looking pretty and Elves for everything that we actually want done - I'm so sorry -"

Sniff.

He sighs. He looks longingly at the piano.

"It's nice that this is here. Probation officer joked about people going to prison for the amenities." She plays a chord. "But I want my baby and I'm on probation."

"Does that mean you get in trouble for getting arrested or only if they think you did something?"

"I don't know. The new babysitter doesn't adore the baby as much as the last one did though, she's charging extra."

"Why'd you change babysitters?"

"First one died in the riot."

He sighs heavily.

He sits down on one of the couches.

"The forums're full of jokes about how Elves don't think we're gross they just don't want to touch decontamination shampoo."

"Elf hair is erotically sensitive. Cutting it short is physically painful. Most Amentans look either indecent or mutilated to us."

"...well that explains that. Sorry."

"For?"