by Jaleta Clegg
If he wanted to confide in me, about treason or anything else, why had he let Charise join us? Why was he riding out alone with her?
Secrets inside of secrets. I hated the trapped feeling. I trudged up the rest of the path. Why was I really here? Someone near to Vance was involved in treason and I was supposed to find out who. I was farther from the truth than I'd ever been. I was losing track of what was a lie and what was real. I paused at the top of the cliff, near the gate. I could just see Vance on his white horse.
I could easily find myself marrying him and pretending to live this life. I was losing touch with myself. I pushed through the gate and crossed into the garden.
I couldn't face the house and the possibility of running into Lady Candyce. I wandered into the garden instead.
It was carefully tended, but allowed for a bit of wildness. The flowers were pretty, but not overblown or too presumptuous. The paths were wandering strips of grass and moss. One led into another.
The farther I got from the main back door, the less formal the gardens were. The flowers were smaller and more ragged. I finally came to a wide garden, screened by a hedge of flowering bushes. It was dedicated to vegetables instead of flowers. Neat rows of plants marched down the length of it. The path here was shredded bark. A gate at the far end beckoned me.
It was utilitarian, not decorative. It was also unlocked. I opened it and went through.
I was in a courtyard, paved with plascrete. A series of sheds along the side away from the house sheltered automated carts. At the far end of the line were three flitters. The head butler was there. He frowned at me.
"This area is off limits." He radiated disapproval.
"I'm sorry, I must have gotten lost," I said as innocently as I could.
I hurried out of the courtyard, into the formal gardens at the front. The gate was shut behind me firmly. I got the message. I wasn't allowed anywhere near a means of escape.
I sighed and started walking again. The front door wasn't far away. I wasn't ready to go inside yet. It was getting hot as the sun rose. I spotted a bench in a shaded spot under a spreading canopy of trees.
There was a brownish bundle on the bench. It looked like a carelessly dropped fur muff until I got closer. A head popped up suddenly. I was looking into a pair of very suspicious green eyes. I stopped. The bundle was a cat, an old one to judge by the raggedness of its ears. The cat stood warily, ready to bolt.
I backed off a step. I didn't want to frighten the cat any more than it already was. It slowly sat back down, its tail twitching and its ears constantly moving.
I wanted to talk to someone, I needed to talk to someone who wasn't going to suspect every word. I wanted simple companionship. I sat in the grass.
"I have a cat," I said quietly. The cat's ears twitched towards me. "She used to sleep on my bunk. She also used to leave dead things on my pillow. I haven't seen her in almost two years. I miss her."
The cat yawned and made a sound like a rusty can opener. I took it for a sign of encouragement.
"Her name is Ghost. I wonder what yours is."
The cat blinked.
"She's gray, a ship cat. She had kittens a while back. Five of them."
I fell silent, staring out at the desert. Memories of who I'd been before filled my mind. I wasn't the same person. Something on Tivor had changed me irrevocably.
The cat surprised me. It rubbed against my arm, purring unevenly. I looked down into green cat eyes. The cat bumped my chin with its head. I slowly lifted my hand. The cat took off into the bushes in a blur of brown.
"Miss Zeresthina?" The diffident voice came from behind me.
"Yes?" I answered without looking.
"Your presence is requested in the drawing room."
Lady Candyce must want to sharpen her claws again. I stood, brushing grass from my back end.
The servant led me into an airy room decorated in shades of pale blue. Lady Candyce was not in the room. A man I didn't know was there. He gave me a somber look.
"There has been a terrible accident," he informed me. "The Lady Charise was thrown from her horse this morning. The family has gone to the hospital with her. They send their regrets that they will be unable to attend to you today. Please amuse yourself."
He left, brushing past me without further comment.
I stared unseeingly at the pale blue furniture. Charise was thrown from her horse? The one that was meant for me? I felt a sudden chill shiver up my spine.
Was Vance's mother trying to kill me? I didn't want to believe it, but I couldn't dismiss the idea. Did she suspect why I was really here? Or did she believe that Vance and I were getting married? The idea seemed ludicrous to me now. The deception had been much easier on Linas-Drias.
I'd been a lot safer on Linas-Drias. Everything that happened to me there was out in the open, in the public eye. Every event that kept me on the front page of the news sheets had kept me safe. I realized that now. I felt naked and exposed here. I was at the mercy of Vance's mother and whoever else knew I was hunting them.
I shivered again. The game was more intricate than any I'd ever played. I was feeling my way blindly. I had no idea where to even look for the information I needed. I had no escape. I was trapped.
I'd done it to myself.
Chapter 37
Tayvis paused in the doorway. Will Smythe bent over his desk, working diligently through the stacks of paper dominating the spacious office. The government of the Federation seemed to run on stacks of paper. The security was lousy, though. Tayvis had walked right in. No one stopped to question him. It was partly in the attitude, he thought. Act as if you belonged and most people assumed you did.
He knocked on the doorframe.
Will looked up. He grinned when he saw who was in his doorway. "Come on in. Close the door behind you. I'll be done in just a moment."
Tayvis shut the door and spent a few minutes removing paper from a chair so he could sit.
Will typed rapidly, bent over the keypad in total concentration. He hit a final button and leaned back with a sigh. "That should deal with that situation. What can I do for you?"
"Hire me as your security consultant," Tayvis answered. "I walked right in without a single question."
Will's grin grew broader. "You never would have made it past the front door if you weren't already on file here." He punched a few buttons and turned the screen so Tayvis could see. "You were registered as entering twelve minutes ago. Your id checked out, so no alarms sounded."
"I sit corrected. I didn't realize you had anything that sophisticated."
"We've been making all sorts of improvements. You'd be amazed at the tech hidden out here where the Empire never bothered to look. I'd tell you about some of it, but it's classified and unfortunately, you don't have clearance here. You're still listed as a citizen of the Empire."
"But you've got me on file and you let me walk right in."
"More than half of our staff, and almost all of our trading fleet hold dual citizenship. The Empire is the one with the border issues. Speaking of which, hold on a moment."
He turned his screen back around and typed rapidly with one hand.
"Problems?" Tayvis asked.
"Possibly," Will said. He stopped typing. "Do you want to tell me why you stopped by? I doubt it's just a social call."
"It's not. I've been sent on behalf of most of the Patrol, but not by the High Command. It's a very long story."
"And the accommodations on the ship were lacking," Will said, glancing at the wrinkled outfit Tayvis wore. "They usually are lately, but we're working on it. It would be nice if some of the expensive cruise liners would defect to our side, but so far they haven't. Our shipyards aren't quite ready for production yet. We've worked out a deal with Trythia for some of their technology. Their democracy is working out quite well. So far."
"I've got more than I came for already," Tayvis said.
Will leaned back in his chair and waited, his feet dangling. He laced his f
ingers together and rested them across his lap. Tayvis got the hint.
"There have been rumors and reports of attacks on Federation ships. The Patrol isn't responsible."
"Just like we aren't responsible for Patrol ships that have been shot up. That was easy. Or was there more?"
"Trade negotiations," Tayvis said.
"I see," Will answered with a frown. "That's going to be a lot trickier. We're in the middle of some very sensitive negotiations ourselves."
"With the Empire?"
"Are you kidding? The Empire still hasn't recognized us as an official country. Roland gets upset about it, so if you see him, don't mention it."
"I'll remember that. Am I likely to meet him?"
Will shook his head. "Not unless you stick around for more than a couple of weeks. Roland is off making more contacts and creating more paperwork for me."
Silence fell for a long moment.
"Why are you really here, Tayvis?"
Tayvis shrugged. "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time."
"And the news sheets have nothing to do with your decision."
"I haven't read them in months."
"You're both being stupid again."
"She's marrying Vance, and there isn't anything I can do about it."
"Have you even tried?"
"My personal life is none of your business."
"Right. You're here on official business only. What authority has the Emperor given you?"
"I don't have official permission to negotiate anything."
"Then you're wasting my time." Will's feet hit the floor with a thud. He started shuffling stacks of paper around his desk.
"Do you really want a shooting match with the Empire?"
Will slammed a handful of papers onto a stack. They slid off onto the floor. He frowned down at them. "No one wants a war."
"Admiral Flanigan does. And Fleet Commander Theodys. I don't know if the Emperor knows anything about it."
"Judging from the lack of news about the Federation in their news sheets, I doubt they even know that they're supposedly at war with us already."
"They'll know when the food shortages hit, which should be within a month. Unless we can work something out."
"Tayvis, I can't help you with this. Not right now."
"Who are you negotiating with?"
"I shouldn't tell you, since you're technically the enemy." Will rubbed his forehead wearily. "But I trust you to keep a secret, if anyone can. The Guild of Independent Traders is disbanded everywhere except the Inner Worlds and even there it is so corrupt that it doesn't do anyone any good. Piracy is rampant. Hiring a ship to haul cargo for you is risky at best. Even in the Federation. No one knows who to trust."
"It isn't as bad as you think. Most merchants are basically honest."
"And most of them are in a bind. Either for cash or cargo or protection from the other pirates. You were lucky to arrive here. I'm guessing you bought passage on a freighter to get across the border."
"I'm not that stupid, Will."
"You want to explain how you got here then? Is there a new Patrol ship out there waiting for my permission to join the Federation strike force?"
"Wouldn't it be nice? Actually there are at least a dozen cruisers that would switch sides in a heartbeat if they thought it would do any good."
"I can find out soon enough but it would be easier if you just told me."
"I came on a freighter. I wasn't concerned for my personal safety. I chose someone I knew I could trust."
"The Gypsy connection, I wasn't aware you had any."
"It's all in who you know."
"Which is why I shouldn't be talking to you right now. But I am. We're setting up the Gypsy Council to act as the regulating body for all trade within the Federation."
"And by default most of the Empire."
Will grinned.
"What deal can we work out?" Tayvis asked.
"Goods are still crossing the border. We'll send what food we can, but there aren't any guarantees."
"I'm not asking for guarantees."
"So we understand each other."
"Blackthorne is behind the raids. They've got support from within the Empire, but we don't know who beyond Theodys and Flanigan."
"The rumor I heard was that Blackthorne was destroyed."
"They were."
"That statement begs an explanation."
"Dace shot most of them. It wasn't one of her better days. But Blackthorne is still out there. They've got classified Patrol information. They've got suppliers inside the Empire for their weapon systems and engines. Their ships are Patrol cruisers with a modified layout. They have to be stopped."
"And that's the real reason you're here."
"Lowell's got some kind of organization built. Mostly merchants, though. There are a handful of Patrol ships, but nothing like we're going to need. Instead of shooting at each other, we need to find the pirates and shoot at them."
"That sounds reasonable. How were you thinking of coordinating our information? Are you planning on flying back and forth?"
"If I need to. But we can use merchants to pass information reliably. They already have their own safeguards in place. They have access to lots of inside information, courtesy of Lowell. How else do you think they get across the border and avoid the Patrol?"
"I have a suggestion for you. As of last week, Cygnus Sector is now Cygnus Province, under Federation jurisdiction. The entire sector voted and chose to secede from the Empire. They brought the entire Patrol Fleet with them. Go talk to Sector Chief Querran. I hear she's itching for a good fight."
"The whole sector fleet?"
"The entire fleet, from what I understand. What would that be? Six full battle groups, plus all the support cruisers and couriers and everything else. That should be enough to wipe out an entire series of planets. Let me know when and where and I'll send everything I can spare to help."
"That's what I call negotiating."
"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Will asked. "Because the city isn't really equipped with decent hotels yet. I've got a spare room if you're interested. It will take at least a day or two to find you another ship headed the right direction."
"I'd appreciate that, on one condition," Tayvis said.
"What?" Will stood up, shutting down his screen and gathering stray pieces of paper into neat piles.
"Leave my personal life out of it."
"But that leaves us with nothing to talk about."
"You tell me about the Federation and I'll tell you about the Empire."
"Sounds like work." Will made a face.
"I don't want to talk over old times with you. No offense, but Dadilan and Trythia weren't exactly vacations."
"How about local cuisine? Or is food a bad topic?"
"Food sounds good. I'm starving."
"Then let's go. It's a bit early, but I've been working too many hours as it is."
Tayvis stood, waiting to let Will lead the way.
Will stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me what happened? All I've heard about Dace comes from the gossip columns. I never know what's true and what isn't."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"No, you're going to run away and hide." Will opened the door. "I still think you're misjudging her."
"It's my life, Will."
"And you have every right to screw it up."
"Forget dinner. I'll just go find myself a ship."
"I'm sorry," Will said, raising his hands. "We can talk business, if that's really what you want."
"How about you tell me how you ended up running a government for Roland?"
"Didn't I tell you that story before?"
"Probably, but I wasn't listening."
"Just for that, you're buying dinner."
"What currency are you using?"
"They're usually short on help, so most of them will accept dishwashing in payment for a meal."
&n
bsp; "Barter can be such fun," Tayvis said as he followed Will out of the office.
"We're still building an economy from scratch. Hey, Liesl, I'm leaving early," Will said to a secretary.
"It's about time," she said, eying Tayvis speculatively. "Your date for the evening?"
"Yes," Will said.
She rolled her eyes and went back to her work.
It was evening outside the building. The city had a new feeling to it, most of it had been built within the last five years. It hummed with activity. Ships lifted and landed constantly. People bustled past. The walks were crowded. There were few groundcars in evidence, and even fewer flitters. Tayvis walked behind Will.
The crowds thinned as they got further from the government offices. Will kept walking, leading the way out of the city and into an area of older buildings. Few were more than two stories tall. Most looked like houses.
Tayvis moved up beside Will, matching his stride.
"It isn't much farther," Will said. "Nice little place. Very private. The food's not bad either."
"What do you want to tell me that you didn't feel safe telling me in your office?"
"Did anyone tell you that you can be too perceptive? Or are you psychic?"
Tayvis walked in silence, waiting.
"I really do have a file on you," Will said. "But only because you're connected to a lot of other people we're interested in. Lowell, Dace, Jasyn and the crew of the Phoenix Rising, and a lot of Patrol officers, both currently serving with honor and those wanted for desertion. Roland has a personal interest in you. His favorite story is the one about Dace burning down the monastery."
"It isn't yours?" Tayvis asked. "You were there."
"I thought you should know, Tayvis."
"Know what? That you keep track of me for Roland?"
"That our whole scheme with the Gypsy Council depends on Jasyn's standing with them. I set her up to lead their council. We need her to set the standards for the trade organization."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I don't want you interfering. She was dead set on getting to Linas-Drias to straighten Dace out. I managed to derail her at Tebros. She won't have time for anything else for some time. I'm sorry, Tayvis. I had to do it."
