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Empire of the One (Wine of the Gods Book 14)

Page 33

by Pam Uphoff


  "Because the women insist." His own suit was impeccable. He and Ahba would be roaming the party, alert for any problems tonight. "That’s a very nice tie. Silk." Gift from which War Party Wife? One, he won’t actually elope . . .

  "Ah." Endi frowned at his reflection.

  Are you going to be a problem tonight, Endi? "Who are you really working for, Endi? The Isolationists? That’s hard to believe, the way you cozy up with the Multitude. So are you a member of Multitude Supreme? Or Strong Federalist?" Idlo caught his eye in the mirror.

  "Oh, if I ever get around to signing up for a Party, it’ll be the Modernists. At least they don’t seem to be living in a permanent state of bloodlust."

  "Pacifist."

  Endi started laughing. Idlo scowled and walked away. Frustrating to realize that all I really know about the man is that he can drink me under the table.

  Behind him, Endi cursed and pulled the knot out of his tie.

  ***

  Izzo grabbed the next tie on the rack and held it out for her inspection.

  Xiat bit her knuckle and her eyes were dancing. "That one is the worst yet. Are you certain you're not colorblind?"

  "Wretched 'casual' Garden Party. At least with a tux I only have to choose between black and white ties. How'd Endi behave today?"

  "Just like always. Friendly, joking with Paer and the other students. Pretending to run from Rael. I persuaded Paer to head into Government House after her lesson. We decided she was old enough to need some high heels for the dance. We shopped all afternoon and now she's practicing walking and dancing in them."

  "Good. She's going to be upset when . . . One! He wouldn’t actually do it, would he?"

  She shrugged. "It would certainly be an interesting step in his one-man destruction-of-the-War-Party campaign. Hopefully he’ll think better of doing it at the garden party. I heard that Arlw is getting a bunch of tests on his spleen. I suppose with a sword the force is all concentrated on a small area. Even with a rolled tip, there's probably less than a square centimeter of contact area."

  "And it was a hard hit, folded him right over. I’m surprised the sword didn’t break, it certainly should have bent and taken more of the force out of the impact. I sat down and analyzed the shield piercing spell on the sword. It was another of his beautiful, delicate spells, and included stiffening and support for the blade. And he put a lot of power behind those spells. In less than a minute, without any of us noticing. He’s a one man army, and the War Party hasn’t realized that he’s a genuine threat yet. Do you suppose I should look up the definition of treason?"

  "Deliberately targeting a political party?" Xiat looked dubious.

  "How about deliberately sabotaging our war effort?"

  "Before it ever starts? What is his real motive? Is it just to stop the war, or revenge on the politicians that got his fellow soldiers killed?"

  Izzo stalled between two choices. Between his mother’s gifts and those of the older ladies in Precog and Divination he had some truly odd ties. Which one would make Xiat laugh . . . "How about sympathy with the Natives we're about to slaughter? I've asked XR for an analysis of his non-Oner genes, to see if he's typical of any place but here. Of course, Agni’s reaction to yesterday’s confrontation may have stopped it dead."

  "We know he’s not a native from one of the Colonies." Xiat chewed her lip. "But Rael said the One thought he just came from a Colony a year ago. That doesn’t make sense. Not if he was in the army for several years. Up till five years ago."

  Izzo shivered. "I don’t like it when my wildest speculations start looking correct. Because there are other Target Worlds with Natives. And more to the point . . . perhaps we ought to have asked Endi which side of that battle he was on."

  "We know he was injured, he’s got the scars . . . One! He’s got bullet and laser scars. And Agni admitted the natives have magic."

  "Endi himself brought up that they had similar genes to the Prophets. I think the Earth didn’t stop probing us ten years ago. I think they recruited some spies that we couldn’t detect."

  She reached and pulled out a tie he hadn't tried yet. "This one. Let's go. I think this could be a hell of a party."

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Paris, European Region

  27 Qadah 1396 yp

  The Director of External Relations intercepted Izzo. Aggressively. He must have made a fast return trip. Xiat decided to let Izzo deal with the man while she checked in with Urfa. Or just got close to Endi to stop him if he looked like he was going to . . . good grief. Propose marriage to someone else’s wife in a public venue. She scanned over the crowd's heads, then headed across the room for the open doors to the garden patio.

  ***

  "I want to know where you got those samples and who is responsible for them leaving my department." Agni Withione was tall and broad and good at looming menacingly.

  Izzo eyed him. He seemed to have gotten over yesterday’s scalding. And stabbing. "The samples I requested information about were collected from people living here in the Paris region."

  The Director's eyes narrowed. "Bullshit. No Natives of Target Forty-two have been brought across. Ever."

  Izzo concentrated on breathing. "Those samples are definitely from there? How certain are you? The people I was analyzing are supposed to be Draken Clan, plenty of mutagenic exposure to explain odd alleles showing up in the wrong places. I thought the main subject's mother might be a Halfer from one of the colonies, or even a target world, based on his political bent."

  "Those three power gene versions are found only there. The presence of all three is absolutely diagnostic. Everything about those samples are typical of Forty-two. That didn't happen accidentally with mutagens. So don't try to divert me. I want to know what heads to start chopping, and you'd best hope I don't start with yours. Who gave you those samples?"

  No wonder Endi appeared as if out of nowhere. No wonder he didn't know anything about the last presidential contest. No wonder his sympathies lie with the Natives getting trampled in between the two superpowers.

  I was really hoping I was wrong!

  "I think I need to speak to Urfa. Right now."

  "I do not appreciate being kept in the dark." Agni moved to block him.

  Izzo dropped his voice. "If External Relations is certain they brought no natives of Forty-two home, then we must consider the only other cross dimensional civilization out there. Earth must have sent them here because with magic, they could pass as Oners. Spies, saboteurs, assassins." Izzo gazed across the room and through the tall windows overlooking the garden. "Endi Dewulfe is one of them, and he is dancing with the President's daughter, right now."

  Agni turned and plowed through the crowd. Izzo followed in his wake, losing him at the crush through the doors to the patio area. The dance floor was perhaps fifty meters beyond.

  "You!"

  Izzo looked around in surprise, as a hand grabbed his arm. He was jerked around and then shoved.

  General Akja was red faced and sweating. Fired up! "You should have been a Priest. You have the gene. Is that how it works? Is that how you coerced these poor women into your bed?" There was calculation behind the power glowing in his eyes. Was there excitement, anticipation as well? Elation. Determination.

  What is going on? Beyond making a public spectacle.

  "Defend yourself, you cowardly rapist."

  Izzo was backing away, but as people—War Party members—converged, he was fast running out of room. Being maneuvered onto a back path. An ambush. Because I'm plausible? "You mistake me. I have not . . . "

  The General leaned and pulled a sword from the ready grasp of Efge. Threw it at Izzo.

  Izzo snatched, noticed the sharp point, the dull edges. A legal dueling sword. They'd come prepared. But why me? Do they actually believe I've been tupping their wives? Or is my role the dead body who accrues all the blame? Rescues their honor? A runaway Priest with a perfect count is certainly higher ranked than the Halfer horseboy. But is this even real
ly about their wives? What else could they be doing that they need a patsy for? Why attack me in this venue? He flexed his hand around the handle and set himself to stay alive long enough to find out. From the corner of his eyes he could see the crowd blocking the convergence of security people. Keeping security focused here? One! A nasty spiral of possibilities swam into focus. Endi. The President. He opened his shield briefly, trying to aim a focused thought at the nearest guard.

  :: This may be cover for something else. Guard the President. :: Then he threw out all other thoughts as Akja came at him in a blur of speed.

  ***

  "Urfa!"

  Urfa turned, trying to identify that voice. "Agni. Thought you’d gone back to Gate City."

  The big man was breathless, disturbed. Guests were staring. "Endi Dewulfe is a spy from Target Forty-two."

  "Target Forty-two? Yeah, sure." His eyes tracked two uniformed guards moving toward the west walkway. Something happening over there?

  "Most likely slipped in by Earth."

  "What are your War Party buddies pulling? Or blaming on Endi, eh?" Urfa turned. Endi was dancing with Paer, and Orde was walking toward them. Minister Ihle plucked Qayg's sleeve and she turned back to say something to him. Leaving the President, for one brief moment, with a single guard. Urfa started running.

  ***

  Akja came at him at speed and Izzo backed quickly, parried conservatively as his own metabolism leaped into overdrive. And suddenly the General's attack was slowing to normal, to his perception. He sidestepped, disengaged and lunged. Akja interposed his blade, pushed Izzo's up. Izzo twisted his wrist to try to keep his line. The hilts slid off each other. They disengaged. Akja lunged, his blade aimed for Izzo's heart. Izzo's parry barely deflected the point. A safe move on the Salle. Without padding and gauntlets the point scored a painful path down the inside of Izzo's right arm. Akja retreated to free his blade from Izzo's sleeve. Izzo flexed his wrist. A slash of pain, but everything was still working. He dare not take his eyes off Akja to see how much he was bleeding. Be quick about this. Izzo stalked Akja, reaching for that insubstantial twist of the mind that let him move faster. Izzo caught Akja as he was coming en guard, slowing, appearing to move in slow motion. Izzo hit him deliberately high, above the suit coat, where only a thin shirt protected his thorax. The sharp point sank deep. Akja leaped back, shocked. Red spread fast, his lips paled, turned blue.

  Hit the subclavian artery.

  Izzo threw a glance at the watchers. Shock, but no movement, yet. Akja tried to take advantage of his brief distraction, but his knees folded and he collapsed to a sprawled sitting position, trying to keep the point of his sword up. Screams. Across the patio, the crowd was panicking away from something else. Akja looked, a wobbling smile crossed his face. "Go, make sure." He gestured with his sword, and the watchers, the War Party higher ups, turned and rushed for the disturbance across the patio.

  ***

  Rael, sticking to the President’s shoulder, picked up a few snatches of conversation from the dance floor.

  "Everyone knows chestnuts are the best color. And liver chestnut is especially good." Endi whipped Paer through a series of spins and dips.

  All this, and he’s a good dancer. And last night . . .

  Paer was giggling. "Grays are better, Endi. I'm going to prove it. And for a man who doesn't yet have a horse, you sound awfully positive."

  "Well, I don't technically own him, but a certain liver chestnut who taught me everything I know about horses—being one he's quite an expert—also happens to be quite certain about equine colors."

  He whipped her through a spin and grabbed her hand just before she went flying across the patio. Bowed as the music ended.

  "You are just silly."

  The President stepped out to meet them. "May I beg a dance with my daughter? I'm afraid I'm not up to the athletic standards of these young men . . . "

  Rael was in uniform tonight. She smiled as she glanced past him, automatically surveying everyone who came near the President.

  Endi stepped back and looked around. He visibly braced himself as he spotted the female players.

  Not here, Endi! You’ve pushed the War Party harder than anyone believed possible. Push again and it is going to get nasty, rude, and possibly dangerous.

  A gust of warm air blew across the patio, a few flowers flew. The linen draping down from the approaching waiter's tray flapped up, exposing the gun.

  Rael leaped in front of the President. The shot spun her around. She hit the ground. Couldn’t move. But she could see.

  Endi slammed his right hand down on the tray, while his left hand knifed over and into the throat. . . he spun and kick out at another waiter. White outfits were converging on the President. She saw the sparkle as Endi threw out a shield to the side, in front of the President and Paer, and staggered as several shots ricocheted off the ungrounded shield. She tried to raise a shield, herself. Couldn't.

  Xiat raced across the dance floor, more waiters were dropping their trays and pulling weapons.

  Endi punched a waiter, grabbed him and threw him under the feet of another, who sprawled forward to receive a kick to the head.

  Endi backed closer to the President, scanning for more attackers. Then something crashed into him and he went to one knee, sliced out at another white clad attacker. Blood splattered and the crowd screamed, spilled over the sides of the dance floor, trampled through the flowerbeds to escape.

  A princess raised shields around the President, and Endi pulled his in close and turned all his attention to the attackers. Absorbed a flash of a laser, his shield glowed as if sucking power from the laser. A waiter started spinning in place. A man rushed forward, Endi kicked. Drew a sword from nowhere and another man’s head leapt from his shoulders in a spray of blood. One attacker was out of reach, but Endi’s left hand swept across to throw a slash spell and the man fell apart in a shower of gore.

  A big man punched a gun toting waiter, dropping him. Rael recognized Agni, the Exterior Director. Endi spotted a shielded man raising a hand to throw a spell at the big man, and threw a hard sleep at him. The mental spell blasted right through the man's physical and light shields without resistance, and he folded. More guns firing from a greater distance but the President had more guards and shields around him, now, moving him to safety. Endi threw three little fireballs. Something slammed Endi’s shield from the side, he turned as he went down, sliced again and rolled to his feet.

  Men were crumpling to the ground, laughing hysterically, spinning, tripping. She hadn't even seen the spells. Agni took out another gun toter, then he and Endi were backing after the President, keeping everyone away. In the milling confusion it was more and more difficult to tell friend from foe from panicked party goers.

  Young fit-looking men were moving toward the violence, rather than away. Guards to the rescue, or more attackers? They were shielded and Rael recognize two of them from the meeting at the Salle. Has the War Party descended to out-and-out assassination? One of them threw a fireball, past the nearest waiter, and at the President.

  Guess so.

  Endi gestured, the fireball dived into the ground. He threw a fireball back, barely visible, glowing pale purple. The man managed one scream before he fell and writhing and burning to the ground. Ultra violet? Was that possible?

  "Ha! Nice trick." Agni tossed a normal fireball and it bounced off a shield. More screaming. The stampede changed directions.

  Four spells of various sorts hit Endi's shields. He absorbed some energy and grounded the rest. A sleep spell hit him and he staggered, shrugged it off. He changed a shield to deflect mental effects, three more bounced off, their splash hitting the crowd. People collapsed and panic spread. Endi tried dull red fireballs. One bounced, two sank through, cooling enough that they only caught clothing on fire. One man got close enough to rush him, he lashed out with the sword again, stepped back, and back, keeping an eye on them all, not letting them flank him and get to the President.

 
; Rael’s head was pounding and her vision was starting to tunnel. Shot before I got my shield up. What is Urfa going to say!

  Endi backed out of her line of vision, but as five men gathered and made a coordinated rush, he leaped forward, into the middle of them.

  ***

  Xiat closed her mental shields up tight and tried to look casual as she finally spotted Urfa and walked toward the little group in the middle of the dance floor. She saw Endi's eyes slide sideways and widen. Rael leaped in front of the President. Endi jumped toward a waiter.

  A gunshot snapped. Rael went down, but Endi slapped down the tray and punched the waiter in the neck.

  Xiat leaped for the President. She winced as shots ricocheted randomly off someone's shield, called up her own shield as she tried to get in between the President and the wave of white clad attackers converging on them, trays dropping and guns firing.

  Time slowed, but not Endi. He spun and kicked a second waiter. A slight gesture and another fell apart in a gory shower. She spotted a laser and shifted her shield to light reflecting as the first fired. She barely glimpsed small fireballs streaking by—outbound from Endi?

  The President had his physical shield up solid, Paer inside, hugged close.

  Two more princesses joined them and they were all moving, the crowd too thick and panicked to let them run. Endi and the Director of External Relations backed after them, keeping people away, shields up.

  Light flashed on a sword blade. Spells. And then blood. Where had Endi gotten a sword? A sword with an edge? Uniformed men shoved through the crush toward the President, coming from two directions. She recognized them.

 

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