The explosion wasn’t an accident. It had been planned, by someone who couldn’t allow the events that transpired at Knevçet Shèràa to become known.
“I’ve been trying to connect Acton van Reuter to that transport explosion for nine years,” Ulanova said. “He died before justice could be served directly. But I will accept his son in his stead, Ms. Tyi. Someone who could bring me proof Evan knew of his father’s guilt and covered it up would earn the Commonwealth’s gratitude as well as mine.”
Jani grooved her right thumbnail into the lifeline of her numb left palm. She called you a loyal Spacer, Borgie. Rose pink carrier bled through the abraded synthon, forming a string of tiny, liquid pearls. Isn’t that nice of her? “I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said as she massaged away the sticky liquid. “I don’t mean to appear thick, but I don’t understand what you and Lieutenant Pascal are talking about.”
Lucien stared straight ahead. Ulanova regarded Jani for a long moment, then pushed back the lids of the other two servers. “We also have fruit tarts and biscotti, Ms. Tyi,” she said. “Unfortunately, the lieutenant has been greedy enough to eat all the cake.” Her sidelong look at Lucien held murder. “No surprise there, it seems.” She rose. “We have apparently detained you unnecessarily. Allow me to extend my most heartfelt apologies. The lieutenant will see to any compensation you feel is merited.” She swept out of the room in a swirl of black.
Jani stared after the departed minister, her stomach gurgling its own farewell. Then the sound of muffled laughter claimed her attention. She turned to the chuckling Lucien.
He gave her a thumbs-up. “Good job,” he offered around a mouthful of fruit tart. “The quieter she gets, the madder she is.” His shoulders shook. “She’s really pissed!”
“You can both—” Jani stopped as her stomach gurgled again, this time more urgently. Cramps rippled through her abdomen. Cold sweat bloomed and beaded. “Where’s—” She clamped a hand over her mouth as the saliva flooded.
“Oh shit!” Lucien grabbed her by the shoulders and herded her toward the door. “Not on the rugs—not on the rugs!” He pushed her out into the hall. “Second door on the right!”
Jani stumbled into the bathroom, reaching the sink just in time. She kept her eyes closed as she vomited. She groped for the faucet and cranked it open, washing away the rancid stench, replacing it with the clean smell of flowing water.
Heavy footsteps closed in from behind. “Are you all right?” Jani jerked as an icy lump touched the back of her neck. “Steady on—it’s just a coldpack.” As the chill soaked through her shirt, her knees gave way. She sagged to the tiled floor, Lucien providing just enough support to keep her from cracking her head against the plumbing. Her emptied stomach gave a last trembling lurch. She moaned and rested her cheek on the cold floor.
“Do you need a doctor?”
Jani opened one eye. What is it about me and men and bathrooms? Lucien sat atop the marble vanity, legs swinging from the knee. Back—forth—back—forth. The motion nauseated her anew. “No.” She closed her eye and tried to feel whether her filming had fissured. “What the hell was it, and where?”
Silence. A sigh. “Ascertane. Glazed inside your coffee cup.” The sound of a fastener being worked, a bottle seal being cracked. “I don’t understand your reaction. Ascertane’s a mild anti-inhibitory—you’re not supposed to know you’ve been drugged. You’re just supposed to feel happy. Trusting.” The slide of cloth against counter. Footsteps. “Here. Drink this.”
Jani opened both eyes. Lucien and his identical twin slowly merged into a single, blurry-edged figure holding a small dispo filled with yellow liquid. “Stick it in your ear.”
“It’s for nausea.”
“I already have that. Thank you.”
“Look.” Lucien gulped the tiny draft. “Same bottle. Same damned cup!” He refilled the dispo, swallowed that as well, refilled it again, then placed it on the floor in front of Jani. “Suit yourself,” he said as he returned to his perch. “I’m just trying to help.” He shoved the bottle into a Service-issue toiletry kit and yanked the fastener closed.
“Yeah, you’re a real humanitarian.” Jani worked into a sitting position, pausing every so often to give her stomach time to catch up. Then she picked up the tiny cup and sniffed the bright yellow syrup. The harsh lemon odor made her cough.
Lucien glared at her. “It’s the same stuff we drank by the barrel during flight training.”
“I didn’t have flight training, did I?” Jani drained the dispo, gagging as the thick liquid burned her throat.
“I don’t understand.” Lucien linked his hands around his knee. “I’ve administered Ascertane a hundred times—all it does is make you blab.” He rocked back. “That nausea stuff works fast. Feel better?”
Jani swallowed. Her stomach remained steady. “I think so.” She rested her head against the wall and watched Lucien watch her. “I told her about Claire. Just to see her reaction.”
His rocking continued without a hitch. “Which was?”
“Surprise. I think I actually caught her unawares.”
“So she’ll send Claire away. Won’t be the first time she’s sent someone away.” His eyes slitted as he smirked, slanting upward at the corners. “Or the last.”
Jani compared Lucien’s face to David Scriabin’s. His was longer, his cheekbones not as high. Close enough in the dark, though. “You know, David Scriabin and Anais Ulanova were quite the item until he lost his nerve and eloped with her younger, prettier, less ambitious sister. He and Anais never quite called it quits, however. A typical Family mess.” She sat up straighter. The antinausea brew had functioned as promised. “So, you aren’t her first twenty-five-year-old tow-head.” She tossed the coldpack back to Lucien. “Or her last.”
Lucien caught the pack with one hand. Without a word, he slid off the vanity, placed the toiletry kit on the rim of the sink, and left.
Jani took a few “get-ready” breaths and eased to her feet, using the wall as a support. She rummaged through the kit, liberating a single-use toothbrush and a pouch of oral rinse. “The man’s a born looker-after of old ladies.” Jani removed the wrapper from the toothbrush. “Of course, if you took him home to meet mother, she’d fight you for him.”
Lucien was waiting for Jani in the hall, her jacket in hand. Instead of his Service winter camou, he had opted for the standard-issue snowsuit in an alarming shade of bright blue. The glaring color made him look like an overgrown little boy.
Except around the eyes. Jani looked into the familiar chilly brown stare. She allowed him to help her with her jacket, then followed him silently. Just before leaving the house, she turned. The kittenish Claire watched them from the end of the hall, arms folded, face in the shadows.
Neither Jani nor Lucien donned their facegear before going outside. Instead, in psychic agreement, they made a bare-headed dash for the waiting skimmer, piling into seats and pulling shut gullwings, causing the vehicle to rock as though wind-buffeted. Jani’s backache had lessened to stiffness; the short exposure to the frigid air slapped away the last of her sick haze. By the time Lucien ramped onto the Boul, she felt human again.
Near death makes you appreciate the simple things. She studied the Chicago skyline with heightened interest. Near murder gives them that extra glow. She savored the buildings of new stone and old glass, their angled, diamond-shaped summits and swirling scrollery. This time around, she even took note of the Greatest War Memorial, its molecular clock coating glowing crimson in the stark winter sun. “Did it take you two long to rehearse?” she asked as the capital zipped by. “My questioning.”
“It wasn’t my idea.” Lucien eased behind a ponderous people-mover and backed off the accelerator. Their zip slowed to an easy glide. “She flipped as soon as she discovered van Reuter had gone to Whalen himself to collect you. That nailed it. As far as she was concerned, you were Jani Kilian.”
“But you didn’t think so?”
“On the Arapaho?” Lucien shrugg
ed. “You acted like someone with something to hide. But then, don’t we all?” He bypassed the ramp that would have returned them to the Interior access skimway. “Besides, I scanned you in this skimmer—it’s off now—and compared the reading to the ID we’d lifted from Kilian’s Service record. She had it all planned. Confrontation, forced confession, deal. But the scans didn’t match, and she couldn’t proceed without paper proof.” He slowed the skimmer further, until other vehicles actually began passing them. “Aren’t you even a little curious why this Kilian is so important?”
Jani watched a distant shuttle descend like a pulse-powered beetle. Means to an end. Ulanova wants Evan’s head on any platter she can find. “I don’t even know when all this was supposed to have happened.”
“Eighteen years ago—the last idomeni civil war.” Lucien snatched glances at her as he maneuvered off the Boul and into a crowded commercial district. “Laumrau versus Vynshà, winner take all. The Laumrau were winning until this thing with Kilian happened. All sorts of mess bubbled to the surface after she died. Some Family members, led by Rikart Neumann and Acton van Reuter, had apparently agreed to throw their support behind the Laum in exchange for augmentation technology.”
It’s for the home world, Kilian. Who cares about a few xenogeologists from a colonial consortium no one’s ever fucking heard of! Neumann had stood nose to nose with her. His breath, scented from ever-present throat lozenges, had wafted around her in cinnamon-tinged puffs. Work with me now, you come to Earth with me when it’s over. Cross me, and I’ll snap your spine.
“Problem was, the idomeni had never had another race involved in their wars before. Everything had always been very ordered, in as much as a war can be ordered. Organized. Very…well, idomeni.” Lucien steered into an underground lot and edged the skimmer into a narrow charge station. “The fact that the Laum had actually courted disorder by dealing with humans staggered all the idomeni. The Vynshà had been getting ripped up to that point, but they were able to publicize what happened and turn it to their advantage. They took the dominant capital of Rauta Shèràa less than four months later.”
Jani followed Lucien out of the garage and onto a moving sidewalk. Pushed along by a swelling crowd, they entered a glass-enclosed mall with a large skating rink in its center.
Lucien tugged on her sleeve. “Do you feel up to anything?” He flashed a dark red plastic card that proved, at second glance, to be an Exterior Ministry expense voucher. “It’s on her.” They wandered over to a snack kiosk that, if the posted prices were any indication, did most of its business with Cabinet expense accounts.
In deference to her iffy stomach, Jani opted for an iced fruit drink. Lucien protested he had an image to maintain with Exterior Contractor Accounts and ordered enough overpriced food to feed them both for the day. They carried laden trays to a rinkside table, doffed their coats, and settled in. Jani’s drink turned out to be grapefruit-flavored. Very tart; it stripped the last of the minty oral rinse from her tongue.
Then the assorted aromas from Lucien’s side of the table reached her. Fried onion. Grilled beef. Melted butter. “What kind of technology did Neumann and van Reuter get from the Laum?” Jani asked as she tipped back her chair and started breathing through her mouth.
“Hints on how to upgrade augmentation technology, in a way that could be better adapted to personality alteration.” Lucien dug into his food like a starved teenager. “I don’t think it ever worked out, though. Idomeni brain chemistry is different from ours, and they’ve got that culture of theirs as an external force to keep their antisocial personalities in line. The humans they tried the augie upgrade on flipped. Twelve sheets to the wind. The research petered out years ago.”
But not before Acton sacrificed his firstborn grandson on the R and D altar. Jani crunched ice. “Who did they test the new augie on?”
“Volunteers, I assume. Research subject stipends can be pretty substantial.”
So you don’t know everything. Some secrets still lay buried beneath the sands of Knevçet Shèràa. “And what does Kilian have to do with all this?”
Lucien dredged a forkful of fried potatoes through a dollop of mayonnaise. Jani looked away while he chewed. “She was a sideline captain,” he said. “Documents examiner. Academy grad, of all things. Reported to Neumann.” His tone grew thoughtful. “Anais thinks some kind of double cross occurred. Either they argued over division of the spoils, or Neumann tried to push Kilian out of the deal altogether. All she’s certain of is that Kilian murdered Neumann, along with a few Laum who got in the way. What no one realized was, Acton was keeping tabs. He knew he faced prison if any details of his collusion with the Laum got out, so he arranged for the elimination of the one person who could put him there.”
But I didn’t know. Neither had any of her real soldiers. Jani took tiny sips of her drink, applying it like salve to her tender stomach. By the way, Ev, you know my little investigation—your daddy is involved. Do you want me to stop now? Dull pain radiated across her abdomen. She set her glass down with a clatter.
Lucien flinched. “What’s the matter?” He tried to smile. “Aren’t you having fun? I am.”
“You have an odd idea of fun, Lieutenant.” Jani turned her attention toward the rink skaters. Most were average at best, but one pair struck her as particularly good. “So, you and Anais are pretty close?” she asked, as the man flipped his partner into the air.
Lucien donned the look of innocence he’d employed to perfection on the Arapaho. “Look, I’m sorry if that bothers you, but it’s none of your—”
“She ever bring work home?” Jani joined other shoppers in applause as the partner landed cleanly on one edge and spun immediately into a quad-triple combination. The attention she paid to the skating display seemed to bother Lucien. He tapped his fork against the rim of his plate, remaining silent until she looked at him.
“Sometimes,” he said.
“She chairs the Cabinet Court Board of Inquiry?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Think you could get me a copy of the Court Summary of Investigation of Evan van Reuter?”
“Why?”
Because Acton van Reuter tried to kill me to prevent his dealings in illegal idomeni technology from being known. He used that technology on his grandson. His grandson died. Then Lyssa had herself augmented. How much more deeply had she explored what happened to Martin, and why? Who had she spooked? This didn’t die with Acton van Reuter. Which meant someone else was involved in what had happened at Knevçet Shèràa.
And that someone had murdered Lyssa.
“Because,” Jani replied, “the Court Summary contains the documents references for all the evidence examined. Once you have a doc reference, you can track it down in systems.”
“You can’t do that without Court-level passwor—”
“That’s why you’re going to supply me with those, too.”
Lucien segued from innocence to indignation. “I’m an Intelligence officer in the mainline Service. I signed the Commonwealth Secrets Act.”
“Despite those obvious shortcomings, I still think you capable of carrying out simple theft.”
“It’s illeg—”
“So is kidnapping, as you were so kind to point out. But you don’t see me belaboring the point. Not yet, anyway.” Acton van Reuter tried to murder me. And slaughtered her real soldiers in the process. Who else knew the story? Who had Lyssa flushed from the undergrowth before she went on that final bender?
“The Summary hasn’t been issued yet. It’s still in draft, no final Court seal. Not as grave a sin.” Suddenly, Lucien grinned. If you ignored his eyes, you’d think it was your lucky day. “If I get it for you, what do I get in exchange?”
“The Commonwealth’s gratitude.”
“Not yours?” He cupped his chin in his hand and leered politely.
Jani reached across the table and brushed a finger along his arm. “Considering your penchant for gadgets, do you by any chance have something that could s
ecure a workstation?”
“I’m sure someone at your level in Interior would have secured—”
“I want to make sure.”
Lucien’s smile tightened. “Will you please stop interrupting me.”
“It needs to be a portable jig, something I can move from machine to machine.”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
“No, but you’ll do it, if for no other reason than that someday you’ll be able to tell Anais all about it.”
Dead eyes widened. To call the look “surprised” would have been overstating the case. But awareness would do, appreciation that she knew Lucien better than he thought, that he didn’t fool all the people all the time.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said after a while. “Will there be anything else, General?”
“No, I think that should do it for now.” Jani finished her drink. “Thanks for the snack. I’ll be in touch”
“Where are you going?” Lucien scrambled for his coat. “I thought we’d spend the afternoon together.” Judging from his flustered behavior, rejection was an unfamiliar experience. “Like we did on the Arapaho, remember?”
“I have things to do.”
“How will I contact you?”
“Not directly. I’ll send a runner for the paper and the jig. I don’t think we should be seen together anymore.”
“Just squeeze me dry and cast me aside, huh?”
“You got it.” Jani patted his cheek in farewell. Then she darted into the midst of the milling shoppers. She heard Lucien call, “Damn it, Risa!” but she didn’t look back, and she didn’t slow down. She knew how to lose herself in a crowd.
CHAPTER 16
In response to the repeated inquiries of your staff, I regret to inform you, nìRau…
The note had been written on Ulanova’s personal stationery, Tsecha noted. Thick, stone-colored parchment nearly idomeni in quality, edged in black and topped with a bird possessing two heads. The minister’s family symbol. Two heads. Two faces. He bared his teeth. He was becoming quite good with double meanings, and truly. Perhaps the day would come when his old handheld would no longer be needed.
Code of Conduct Page 16
