“Almost immediately. We’ve spent the time since then tracking financial records for verification. I don’t think we have them all yet—they’re very well hidden—but we have enough.”
“Well? Who is it?”
“Parser.”
“Parser?” Tal repeated. “We were looking for a warrior!”
“We made an assumption. We thought that if someone could interfere with an investigation, it had to be a warrior. But the abuse of power has never been limited to our caste.”
Her words kindled the deep anger that had been simmering in Tal ever since her meeting with Donvall at the Pit. “So the man who created the task force is the one profiting from it. Our respected Prime Merchant, the one who spoke so eloquently about the integrity of his caste after the Redmoon fusion disaster. The one I chose to help fight corruption. That miserable pile of dokshin! Tell me you have him in custody.”
“He’s in holding at Blacksun Base.”
“Hung upside down by his ankles, I hope. That anyone would betray the purpose of the task force has already been churning my stomach. That it’s Parser, of all Alseans—I’d like to throw him on the Council chamber floor and tell the warrior caste to do as they see fit.”
“And the merchant caste,” Razine added. “They have every reason to feel just as betrayed.”
“Yes, they do. When this goes public, Parser will have more enemies than he can count. If he ever gets out of prison, I wouldn’t give good odds on him lasting more than a day.” Tal stopped and took a calming breath. “Tell me everything.”
“Salir called Parser less than three hanticks after you met with Ehron. She probably made the call as soon as Ehron passed on your order to meet with you; she was in a panic and wanted Parser to tell her what to do. Parser was angry that she’d called—I’m guessing she was never supposed to contact him via vidcom or anything that could be tracked. He told her never to call him again, especially not for something so trivial as answering a few questions about the task force. Then he killed the call.”
“He knew it was being tracked. Everything he said gives him deniability.”
Razine nodded. “But he can’t deny his financial records. His accounts show an enormous increase over the last cycle, and that’s just the ones we’ve found so far. There is no possible way Parser could be that wealthy from his Councilor’s salary or his legal enterprises. By this morning we had enough evidence to detain him and search his house and office. Guess what we found when we combed through his reader card?”
“Fifteen hidden accounts where he’s stashing his real wealth.”
“Those, too. But that’s not what will interest you most. We found a number of message accounts under false names, sitting in cities all over Alsea, and all collecting information from various sources. You know one of those sources. Or perhaps I should say, Raiz Opah knows him.”
A chill went down Tal’s spine. “The Granelle merchant.”
“Spinner is Parser. He’s been spying on you and making plans for several moons now, though to what end I’m not certain. He’s not giving me anything useful, and I can’t get any more information without a warrant for empathic force. But I did just complete his empathic scan, and there is no doubt of his guilt. Parser is our traitor.”
“Damn that little worm!” Tal exploded. “How are we to repair this damage? The task force was corrupt from birth! And the damage to the Council is even worse. Any Councilor would have been bad, but the Prime Merchant? This will rock the public faith in the Council, as if we had that much to begin with.”
She wanted to break something and thought darkly that Parser’s face would be an excellent place to start. At the very least, she planned to be there when they executed that warrant for empathic force. She would take great pleasure in watching Razine split his mind wide open and pick every ill-gotten bit of information out of it.
“I’m not a politician, Lancer Tal, so I won’t presume to advise you on Council issues. But it seems to me that if the merchant caste responds promptly, they might be able to resolve the issue of public trust by stripping Parser of his caste.”
Tal raised her eyebrows, impressed by Razine’s ruthlessness. “That hasn’t been done in a very long time.”
“Perhaps there hasn’t been quite such an egregious abuse of power in a long time.”
“Yes, there has. But this one was caught, and that makes all the difference.” Tal was already weighing the pros and cons of approaching the Chief Merchant, Parser’s second-in-command, and proposing such a drastic action. Then she wondered bitterly if the Chief Merchant was in as deeply as the Prime Merchant. Where did the corruption end?
“He asked to speak with you,” said Razine.
Startled out of her line of thought, Tal snapped, “I do not wish to hear one word from that pathetic excuse for an Alsean.”
“I don’t blame you. I had to listen to him all morning. But he made what I believe is a credible threat.”
Her first thought was to dismiss any threat made by a disgraced politician in detainment, but Razine was an experienced investigator who did not jump to conclusions, nor worry without cause.
“What was it?”
“He said that your lover has already lost one member of her family, and it would be too bad if she lost another. Particularly since you would be to blame.”
Tal’s anger contracted into a dense, icy core. Anything to do with the Opahs, Pendar had said, and she suddenly knew why Parser had been paying a spy in Granelle.
“You’re right, it’s a credible threat,” she said. “Those were Parser’s warriors in the transit station. He has Herot.”
CHAPTER 29:
Game of tiles
Tal rarely came to this part of Blacksun Base. The prisoners here were nearly always in judicial limbo: charged with a crime but waiting for their hearing. Somewhere in here, she knew, Cullom Bilsner was awaiting his hearing for attempted assassination. She also knew that it would be a very short hearing with a foregone conclusion. When a prisoner’s guilt was already established by a corroborated empathic scan, there was little left to accomplish at the hearing itself other than an assessment of the severity of the crime, an accounting of any previous offenses, and the sentencing. Bilsner’s crime had a preset severity of a level-five state offense; the sentence would be life imprisonment. Tal felt no pity for his self-destruction. He had come very close to taking away the most precious thing in her life, and that she would never forgive.
For high empaths, the procedure was different. Because an Alsean with sufficient strength and training could defeat an empathic scan, these individuals entered their hearings presumed innocent and the burden of proof fell to the state. Such hearings took much longer, and sometimes the quality of the final judgment was questionable, but there was no better alternative.
“He’s in here.” Colonel Razine stopped in front of a door halfway down the corridor. “I’ll be outside.”
Through the large window in the door, Tal saw Prime Merchant Parser sitting on the bunk, his expression one of martyred forbearance. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and smiled as she and Micah stepped into the room.
“Lancer Tal, what a pleasure. I would offer my hospitality, but I’m very short on spirits at the moment. Or a chair.”
Tal stood in the middle of the tiny room, her arms crossed. “Or honor. Stooping to blackmail now, are you?”
Parser waved a hand in dismissal. “Blackmail would imply you have something to hide. We all know you have far too much honor for that. What I propose is more along the lines of an insurance agreement.” His gaze moved past her. “Perhaps your Guard would wish to wait outside?”
“Colonel Micah wishes to break your neck, actually, but I’ve managed to restrain him for now. He stays.”
“I see. Well then, since I have no hospitality to off
er, and you don’t seem to be in a hospitable mood, we should probably begin our negotiations.”
Tal said nothing, hoping to unnerve him, but the man was insufferably confident. Parser was a mid empath, and she had no difficulty skimming him. She did not like what she saw.
“Let me be the first to congratulate you on an admirably quick investigation,” he continued, unaffected by her silence. “I didn’t guess you would find me so soon after your meeting with Donvall. But I’m quite pleased you did, since the cost of maintaining Herot Opah in proper security isn’t cheap. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to lay out that expense for too long.”
“Wages are lower in southern Pallea,” Tal said, taking a shot in the dark. She skimmed him, looking for his reaction to her guess, but found nothing. The worm was smiling at her.
“Ah ah.” He waved a finger. “I don’t know where he is, so probing me won’t help you. That would be foolish of me, wouldn’t it?”
“Get on with it, Parser. Or should I call you Spinner?”
His smile grew. “Oh, very good. I wasn’t expecting you to hunt that one down. But I’m not surprised you did. Here’s the difference between you and me: I never underestimate an opponent. That’s why I win, because I respect the abilities of those I’m working against. But you don’t even pretend to have respect for me. That has always been a failing of your caste. Warriors simply assume they’re better than any other caste, despite ample evidence to the contrary. But it wasn’t warriors who found your missing assassin, was it? It was the merchants. A man on the run can go a long way without ever being seen by a warrior, but he has to deal with merchants if he wants food or a roof over his head. My web is spread all over this planet, Lancer Tal. You may have the title, but I have the power.”
“And you wield it with all the usual integrity of your caste. For a man who defended the merchants so eloquently, you’re certainly proving the warrior caste’s point. Shantu was right.”
“Shantu is a fool. He helped me form the task force and never saw what I didn’t want him to see. And if you’re trying to anger me, you’re failing miserably. What you call integrity, I call simple-mindedness. You hobble yourself with your beliefs. That’s why you lost this game before you even started playing. The tiles are already laid on the board, and you stepped into the trap the moment you had me brought here.”
“Not a very elegant trap,” Tal said. “Holding a hostage and threatening murder seems a rather blunt instrument for a game player like you.”
“What matters is the end result. Now, I did mention negotiations, but in truth I have only one offer. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you have options. You will release me, and you will give me the vid that you are undoubtedly making as we speak.” He waved at the featureless walls, where a tiny hidden cam was indeed documenting their meeting. “You will then record a special announcement for tonight’s news broadcasts. In it, you will state that you had me brought in for questioning regarding corruption in the task force, but I’ve been absolved of any suspicion and you formally apologize for any mark on my reputation. You will then announce that the true culprits have been caught: a merchant named Falton Mor and a warrior named Alanor Salir. Detain them, give me your recording by eve-three, and I’ll make sure it gets to the appropriate individuals in the media. Then you’ll get your assassin back.”
Tal had to admit the man was clever. By personally announcing his detention and then clearing his name, she would be mixing just enough truth into the lies to make it nearly impossible to bring him down later. Any attempt would no doubt be met with a media blitz that would be extremely damaging to her own reputation. Admitting she had made the original announcement to save the brother of her bondmate would only make her look worse, particularly to the warrior caste. She would expose herself as weak and easily controlled, and a vote of no confidence would be almost guaranteed.
“There’s one problem with your plan,” she said. “You’re counting on the fact that I have a vested interest in Herot Opah’s safety. I don’t. If you kill him, you’ll save me the effort.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt you have a personal issue with him. I’m also certain you wouldn’t mind at all if he turned up dead. But it’s not whether he dies. It’s how he dies. If you don’t agree to my very reasonable offer, Herot Opah will be killed by the Lancer’s own warriors. I think that will be enough to put you right out of office, don’t you? I can’t imagine your lover will appreciate it, either.”
His face grew hard. “You’re still thinking you’re better than me, when the truth is that I’ve outmaneuvered you at every turn. The moment your AIF warriors came to detain me, a vid made its way to every major media branch on Alsea. As you stand here, wasting time trying to find a way out, all of Alsea is watching Herot Opah being escorted out of the Napoline transit station by two Lancer’s Guards. Imagine their surprise to learn that, instead of being detained, he was taken out and murdered. Two of your real Guards will also be found dead—the killers, of course. They’ll go to an early Return from the shame of their actions, but fortunately, they’ll leave a final communication explaining that you ordered the revenge killing. It’s hard to see how such evidence might be questioned when the whole world already knows that your Guards found Opah and took him from Napoline. Bypassing justice…” He shook his head. “Not a good trait in a Lancer. Neither is murder. And violating the sanctity of family, as well—you ordered the death of your own lover’s brother. Even if you subject yourself to an empathic scan, it can’t be used in your hearing because you’re a high empath. And adjudicators can be bought.”
He made a show of brushing invisible lint off his trousers. “It’s really not such a difficult decision. Agree to my terms and keep everything as it was. You even get to give your lover the gift of her brother’s life.” Looking up with vicious triumph, he added, “Or you can say no and be responsible for three deaths and the loss of your lover, your title, and your freedom. I don’t imagine you’ll last very long in prison, not without your precious Guards to keep the other prisoners from killing you.”
It took every bit of Tal’s empathic strength to front her rage. Her hands itched to beat that smirk off his face. And the worst of it was that she could not see a solution. She felt battered by the scheme Parser had laid out so matter-of-factly, every sentence another door closing on an avenue she hadn’t yet had time to think of. He had even taken away her most desperate option of sacrificing Herot to the pursuit of justice. She would be forced to use the vid of their meeting to prove her innocence—but it would also prove her culpability in letting Herot die. Salomen would never forgive her.
There was only one weakness she could see in his plan, and she prayed he might be just a little overconfident.
“Very good,” she said. “You’ve covered every possibility but one.”
“And what is that?” He leaned back on his hands.
“You may have a broad web, but you’re out of communication with it now. You can’t order Herot’s death from in here. I’m afraid we’ll have to detain you a little longer—in the high empath block.” Which would mean automated food delivery and zero contact with other Alseans, including warders.
His laughter filled the tiny room. “Go right ahead. I never intended to order his death.” He stood, exuding nonchalance, and walked into her personal space. “I’ve been ordering his life. His guards have standing instructions to kill him in the absence of our daily communication. He lives from one day to the next because I say so. And the next scheduled contact is in, oh…” He craned his head to look at her wristcom. “About one hantick from now. You’d better hurry, Lancer Tal.”
Her thumbs were pressed into his windpipe before she registered the thought. “Then you’ll make that call from here,” she snarled.
“Can’t,” he rasped.
For a moment she seriously considered crushing his throat. With an enormous effort of will
she shoved him away, disgusted with herself that he had been able to break her control.
He stood at a safe distance, rubbing his throat but still giving her that damnable smile. “My warriors won’t accept any communication unless it’s from my vidcom unit at home, accompanied by a code. And just in case you’re thinking of breaking the law yourself and empathically forcing me, don’t bother. Their instructions also include a warning to kill Opah if I appear to be giving them any instructions that don’t make sense or fail to coordinate with earlier communications. Give up, Lancer Tal. I told you the trap was sprung the moment you detained me. You’re standing in it now. The only way you’ll get out is if I open the door.”
They stood in silence while she thought furiously. It didn’t help. Parser had won, and Herot was the key to it all. If she could find him and pull him out before eve-two tonight, she could avert the whole disaster and take great pleasure in burying Parser. Failing that, her only other option was to give him what he wanted and work on a way to take him down later. It would mean a whole mudfield of cover-ups and lies, and she would have to play a very careful game. But she couldn’t worry about that now.
“You’ve gone to a great deal of trouble,” she said. “Everything neatly in place to strip me of my title and put me away. How do I know you won’t do it once I give you what you want?”
“Because this isn’t personal. It’s business. I don’t want a new Lancer in your place—then I’d have to watch and wait and set up a whole new trap to make sure your successor is under my control. I want a Lancer I can work with. You can keep your title; I know exactly how little it’s worth.” He straightened the sleeves of his jacket. “Time for a decision. Will you keep me here and lose everything? Or will you taint yourself with just a little whiff of corruption?”
As she stared him down, she knew he was lying. It was personal. Whatever secondary goals Parser was accomplishing, the primary one was to stain her reputation with the very thing she had publicly ordered him to regulate in his own caste. This was revenge.
Without a Front: The Warrior's Challenge (Chronicles of Alsea Book 3) Page 22
