Heat radiated from his casual fingertips on her elbow, and the word shivered over her skin. Beautiful.
Don’t be tricked, her robot warned. He means nothing.
Shivers were sensations, not emotions, and she crushed them viciously as she answered, “Of course.”
He led her away from his admirers to a private area behind the bar. His gaze skimmed over her head. They only had a few moments.
“What did you notice?”
“No one actively intends to kill you.”
He waved that consideration away. “The promotions will begin directly after lunch. If, by some miracle, my cousins don’t show up, I might actually get some work done. Tell me. How long has the Faction controlled our population?”
Never, her robot said.
She reviewed his census bureau visit ending in an assassination attempt, his later failed seduction of the bureau director, and the regional presentations. He wanted to know why his cousins’ districts had more money without a corresponding population cost. Such a situation was plausible only if his cousins had stuffed their districts with people who didn’t require food, water, or oxygen.
Like robots.
“The Faction doesn’t control anything on this planetoid. Not in real time.” Yet.
“What about the street sweeper ‘stalking’ me?”
“It is preprogrammed.” Given an assignment, required to report. Just like she was. “So any alterations in a program will take some weeks unless they are locally controlled.”
He seemed to be thinking.
“Local control will be very difficult to prove,” she said. “You had better ask the census bureau director to produce the actual people her office claims are living in your cousins’ districts.”
He swore at his wine. “I knew I should have slept with her. Fuck.”
“It’s not too late.”
His brows shot to the ceiling. He eyed the filling cafeteria, its lush plants and jeweled tiles, and his thoughts transmitted across his incredulous face. The artful bamboo and colored glass infused floating tables beside the artful water features shared nothing with his bedroom but wealth and exotic expense to maintain.
“To call out the regions you suspect of fabricating people,” she specified. “Do you think of nothing but sex?”
“When it serves my purpose.”
His honesty depressed her.
He saw someone over her shoulder. His face flattened on a snarl. One microsecond later, he recomposed his features into a cool welcome. “Cousin Darvin.”
She turned.
A thinner, bolder, muscular model of Aris approached.
A flashy man, Cousin Darvin strove to exceed Aris’s imperial fashion and instead only struck her with a pale desperation. His more perfect pectorals were highlighted by a more elaborately tailored suit-gown-cape. His hair slicked back with more obvious highlights, his drink glinted with more expensive ingredients, and his smile descended into darker crocodilian depths.
“Cousin Aris. Returning to your no-name roots and consorting with your inferiors again?”
Aris stepped in front of Resa. “The only one who seems inferior in this conversation is you.”
His cousin’s smile strained. “How ghastly. Social blindness is a flaw from how you were raised.”
Real anger flashed across Aris’s face.
Interesting. But not something Aris wanted to reveal. Not to this man, who already knew how to insult him to the quick, and not here, when he needed his attention on the promotions.
So quickly her movement defied human eyes, she unbalanced Darvin’s drink from beneath.
It upended on his front.
He stumbled back, swearing. “What the? Something’s wrong with this glass.”
“Get another,” Aris advised. “Elsewhere.”
“Here I thought you were going to blame it on the Robotics Faction. Everything else seems to be their fault these days.”
Resa glanced up at Aris.
He read the guilt in her expression. Knowing that she was, actually, responsible for the broken glass seemed to break his taut anger into manageable pieces. “Where’s dear Cousin Poyo? I thought you two traveled as a set.”
The mildest flicker of irritation crossed Darvin’s face. “Not at all. In fact, he’s not even coming to our grand soiree tomorrow. You, of course, will be celebrating my ascension to the governor’s seat.”
“I think you might be surprised how the afternoon goes.”
“Unless you can produce a legitimate robot ‘threat’ in the middle of our conference room,” he snapped his fingers under their noses, “I think you are the one who will be surprised. Your pointless, wasteful, crazy talk will make our family vote me in, taking the governor’s seat out from under you, no matter what your father tries to do about it.”
With that barb, the man walked away.
Aris’s laughter died, but he kept his smile pasted on and spoke through it as he lifted his drink. “I don’t suppose you would go for my throat in the middle of the afternoon sessions.”
His casual way of tossing off her employer’s assignment, which stuck under her skin like a ten-inch splinter, pierced her heart.
Not a drop of it touched her impassive face. “Not unless I have a reason to do so.”
“Help me save my family from themselves?” He sighed and reached out to put his arm around her shoulders.
She stepped away, dodging his touch.
He caught himself, as though he had forgotten their position, and returned his hand to her elbow to guide her amongst the guests. Even that light, public touch seemed to burn like a delicious, forbidden desire.
“Whoever bribed my head of security possessed a first governor locket,” he said, unaware of his intense effect on her. “Two are in existence; one must have been passed from my uncle to someone in this room for an incredible favor or a large amount of money.”
“You discovered that from sleeping with the widow?”
“I thought you were listening.”
“I didn’t wish to invade your privacy.”
He raised a skeptical brow. “I hope the Faction is equally polite when it comes to invasions.”
Her robot spoke through her. “We have no plans to invade.”
“Good.” He reached a man slouched into his chair, ignoring the beautiful young male companion across from him and staring stupidly into space. “Resa, allow me to introduce Cousin Poyo.”
Cousin Poyo jerked in irritation. Pale, thin, and clothed in loose, stained robes, the older man wiped a hint of drool from his cheek. He was prone to an overbite and squinting, despite the fact that simple surgeries could correct both problems in an afternoon. Vanity had clearly passed him by and pooled in his brother, Darvin. “What do you want?”
“Have you met my new secretary?”
“No, and I don’t want to.” He returned to stupefied gazing, which, Resa saw from her excellent binocular-microscoping vision, was him reviewing intergalactic price indexes for stocks on retinal implants.
The young man beside him bobbed to her politely and introduced himself as Taier. His security uniform fit his muscular form nicely; the gray secretarial band explained his dual duties.
“Cousin Poyo.” Aris’s smile fixed hard as his teeth clamped together on his cousin’s rudeness. “What would my uncle say?”
“You’re a waste of resources driving the family into the same poverty from whence you came.”
His jaw flexed. “There’s no need to be… abrupt.”
“I have things to do.” Scorn dripped from his voice. But nothing prepared her for the vicious malevolence boiling behind his carefully shuttered eyes. “Don’t you, Governor?”
Aris tensed, reacting to the tension ticking across Poyo’s grimace and trembling beneath his pudding cheeks, even though there was no other outward sign of the physical restraint stopping him from a physical attack. His companion, Taier, slowly turned to stone.
She cleared her throat. “He does.�
�
Once again, her subtle interference seemed to release the cousins. Poyo turned his back on Aris, his hands clenching a drink to strangle it. Taier released his held breath. Aris smiled more broadly and bid his cousin a nice meal. Which, in his cousin’s case, was a partially drool-filled glass of colorless glucose protein.
A few footsteps away, she released her assessment. “It’s him.”
“Hmm?”
“He’s the one who’s trying to kill you.”
“No.” Aris frowned through his smile. “Darvin’s been trying to kill me since secondary school. For him, it’s equally pleasure as business. Poyo doesn’t care about the governor’s seat. He cares about…”
She prompted him. “About Taier?”
“Hmm? No, he can’t justify the expense of taking more than one person to these events, and Taier drew the short straw. Poyo cares about mineral prices. Tariffs. Saving a penny to spite yourself.”
He drew her to the balcony overlooking the rest of the family. She stood beside him, bathed in his reflected adulation. Cheers turned to shocked gasps.
A blast of fire roared toward them.
She tensed.
Aris jumped but stood his ground.
The flame burned into an elaborate, colorful shape of a fist erupting through the sun. Aris relaxed. The audience clapped, cheering his bravery as much as the beauty. Flame trees wept jeweled fruit, cloud whales swallowed glassed tour shuttles, and supernovas sparkled. Festive images burned onto her retinas for one brief moment before dissipating away forever.
Much like standing beside the governor would someday be nothing but a memory, burned for one brief, hot moment, on the hungry interior of her mind.
Usually, open flames were a fire hazard, especially in an atmosphere shield when they were in what was essentially a delicate, vulnerable balloon. She commented on it.
“Cousin Poyo sponsored today’s display by developing a special type of nanobot that creates—and contains—the flame.”
“How generous for a man who cares about ‘saving a penny to spite yourself,’” she murmured.
All day, she could almost feel the atmospheric nanobots whispering over her skin. Logically, she knew of their presence. They fed the flowers, tended the air quality mix of oxygen and carbon dioxide, and puddled near cafes and resting rooms. A secretary had placed a broken button in her open palm and lifted it; a few seconds later, she had placed the button, now whole, against her jacket. It gave Resa the creeps.
And now, they lit on fire.
“It’s my uncle’s doing,” he reassured her. “Poyo will never be governor for the simple reason that the Hyeon family requires fashion to accept function. No matter how ‘crazy’ my talk, until one of my cousins can command the popular vote, I am not at risk of losing my seat. I just might have more difficulty than even now in getting our threats to be taken seriously.”
“Either way, you might not want to stand too close.”
The crowd below suddenly cheered, “Governor!”
He lit with his gorgeous smile, lifting his hand to wave and soaking in the cheers.
“Come down for the grand finale?” the head fire-performer invited Aris.
He glanced at Resa.
“I wouldn’t,” she said.
“Come down, come down, come down,” the audience chanted.
His grin returned, headlong and foolhardy. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I ruin a perfectly functional fountain to put you out, saving your life. Again.”
“Exactly.” He put his palms on the balcony and pushed himself off, falling into the wildly shrieking crowd. They surfed him to the center of the grand display floor. He thanked them with blown kisses, and his admirers grew wild.
“Now don’t move,” the entertainer warned him.
Aris nodded. Sure, he wouldn’t move.
His careless grin fooled no one.
Well, she hoped he didn’t immolate himself. Burns would be hell on the ceremonial cape.
The air shimmered blue. Flames arced up around Aris, haloing him in a cage that turned into angel wings. The audience gasped and oohed, frightened and delighted.
However his cousins felt about him, however those plotting against him felt, however her twisted emotions threatened her assignment, he had earned the love of his people. Impossible bravery in the face of overwhelming fear. Despite his cousins fighting against him, he soldiered on, taking the lone position to protect his family against an unspeakable threat to the very bitter end. We help ourselves or nobody does. Even the census bureau director he had tried to seduce watched him from the rest of the audience with wistful longing.
He glanced up at Resa and raised a brow. Inviting her, silently, to watch him.
His gorgeous attention hooked in her chest, squeezing her heart with longing and raising goose bumps of shivering excitement. She would watch him. She couldn’t drag her eyes away.
Careful. Her robot’s warning flashed at the same moment as the thought of her ghostly predecessor, emotional terrorist Zenya, across her mind.
She retreated into shadow, more comfortable and more disturbed. Her interest and her surprise had both been real. Real emotions, like she remembered.
She would not become like Zenya. No emotions controlled her.
And neither did the Robotics Faction.
Nothing filled a man with more visceral fear than walking into fire.
Which was why, the second time the wings arced down to enclose him, Aris walked through the flaming bars.
Horror and awe of his gathered family erupted in furious approval for his daring. Resa did not destroy a lounge fountain to save his eyebrows, which were the only physical casualty attached to his body.
Striding back into the conference chamber for the final act of the promotions, Aris faced the reason why he had done it.
“This council recognizes District of the Twilight,” the chair announced.
Cousin Darvin stood. “On behalf of my brother, District of the Morning,” he indicated the empty seat beside himself; Poyo had used his privilege to exit early, “we submit to you the following candidates for promotion to the Solar Council and all privileges therein.”
Fifteen candidates stood.
“Governor.” Darvin tried to hide his sneer as he spoke the title, but he didn’t try very hard. “Will you certify these individuals as true, honest, fair representatives so we can finally proceed?”
The faintest scent of singed hair lingered.
If Aris elevated these candidates, the target lifted from his back. His family ignored him for another decade. He fought his battles off-planet, in anticipation of reuniting with his half sisters, and tricking the Robotics Faction.
If he elevated these candidates, ignoring the “unimportant” people who lost their opportunities and allowing the Faction to dig even more tendrils into the planetoid, he betrayed the Hyeon family just as he had once betrayed the Sarits.
Aris stood. “Thank you, my cousin. I certify the individuals before me are true, honest, and fair.”
Darvin turned away.
“But I do not certify they are representative. Data has been altered to propel certain districts forward and push worthier districts back.”
Shock rippled through the audience.
Darvin snarled, “Lies. The formulas are sacrosanct. How could anyone alter them?”
The census bureau director sank deeper into her seat and crossed her arms tight across her body.
Aris stood in front of all of them and painted on the target. “You did so with the assistance of the Robotics Faction.”
He laughed, but his face flushed. “Ridiculous! These are ridiculous allegations.”
“Ridiculous or not, they are unfortunately true.” Aris raised his voice over the increasing murmur. “And I, at least, will not turn my back on the truth. Over half of the candidates before me rest on false data.”
“Preposterous!”
“We cannot proceed until th
e following districts have revised their head counts.”
According to the secretary who had betrayed Aris, at least half of the candidates were forwarded on false data. The problem was that he didn’t know which half.
His cousin sputtered, red-faced with fury.
Aris boomed out the districts most suspicious in his research. “District 47, District 117, District 38, District 14, District 12—”
Shocks jumped from the department heads to their secretaries and flew into the audience. People leapt to their feet in alarm and protest. The corruption nested deep. Many, like the census bureau director hugging herself with a frozen mask, had their reasons for altering the data or looking the other way.
No matter.
“Imposter!” Darvin leapt atop the conference table. “You challenge these districts? I challenge you.”
Aris broke off. “The time for challenges passed.”
“Any time an imposter reveals himself, we may challenge.” He stabbed his accusation. “You go on and on about the Robotics Faction. Everyone knows the Faction, whatever they are, cares nothing for our concerns. They sell alarm pets. We all,” he tapped himself on the forehead, “have identification chips made with their technology buried behind our very skulls. They don’t care about us at all, and if you doubt that, I challenge you by reason of insanity.”
Anger burned in him even as he smiled. “I only wish these allegations were insane.”
“The old governor was nothing but his father’s bastard.” He threw his sharpest insult as he addressed the huge audience. “We all saw him die in the same accident that claimed his head of security and four other guards.”
If Aris clenched his jaw any harder, his teeth would break. “The world saw me survive unscathed.”
“Which was why, up until now, when your true agenda revealed itself, I did not question the survivability of Aris Hyeon Antiata. Who, sir, are you?”
A twitch tugged up his lip. Darvin couldn’t know how many times he’d asked himself that very question since taking on the governorship.
Fine. He knew the consequences.
He turned to the department heads. “Is there a second?”
Liberation's Vow (Robotics Faction #3) Page 10
