Byzantine Heartbreak (15 page)

“That is a steep fee,” Nayara observed mildly. She mentally blessed everyone around the table, who hadn’t twitched so much as a muscle when Dionne had quoted her price.

“It is,” Dionne agreed. “I can lower than price to five hundred thousand credits, with a little something thrown in on the top.”

Nayara breathed deeply. It
was
a sweetheart deal! Dionne wanted this job. The first exorbitant price was a blind, to make this cheaper price look so much more reasonable. The condition she was about to offer would be hard to meet, but would look more attractive than the six million price tag she had first demanded.

“And the little something would be?” Nayara asked, keeping the excitement out of her voice.

“At the end of the assignment, I get turned
and
...” Dionne held up her finger, even though no one had spoken, “I get my choice of which cast I am made into.”

Nayara failed to hide her shock. So did almost everyone around the table.

Even Cáel leaned forward on his chair, all amusement gone, as he looked at Nayara and Ryan, open astonishment on his face. Nayara could almost read his question.

What does she mean by ‘cast’?

Nayara stood up. “Clear the room. Everyone. Justin, you stay. Rob, Christian, Brenden. The rest, I’m sorry, this has just become a closed session.” She looked at Dionne. “You, too, Ms. Rinaldi. We will get back to you with an answer to your proposal in a while. Demyan, would you escort Ms. Rinaldi to the visitors’ lounge?”

Demyan was shorter than Rinaldi in her high shoes, but his glare and the rigid posture of his shoulders cut short any protest she might have been about to make. She meekly followed him out of the room.

“Hell’s bell,” Ryan breathed.

“Cáel, Ryan,” Nayara warned, as she saw Cáel threading his way out of the room.

“Cáel,” Ryan called softly.

Cáel looked around.

Ryan pointed to the chair Cáel had been sitting in. Cáel frowned, but turned and went back to his unobtrusive seat in the dark corner.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Nayara asked Ryan.

“He may as well hear it now. We’ll just end up having to tell him for the damn book later,” Ryan replied softly.

She hid her smile. “You
know
this can’t come out yet.”

“Why not?” Ryan asked reasonably.

Nayara opened her mouth, but no answer would come. Finally, she said, “Let’s worry about being accepted for ourselves first, before we add the complication of casts.”

Justin shut the big, manual boardroom door and dropped into his chair and looked at them. Silence fell.

Ryan pushed his fingers through his hair. “There’s no easy way to—”

“We have casts?” Justin interrupted.

Ryan sighed. “Yes.”

“
Fuck
!” Justin swore. It was an aggrieved sound. “And
she
knew about them! That makes me feel like a right stupid git. Why isn’t this common knowledge?”

“I imagine it’s because casts in most races are the cause of most civil wars and bloodshed within those races,” Cáel said from his dark seat. “Casts separates a species. It doesn’t unite it.”

“That’s one reason, yes,” Ryan said. “But mostly, it’s because knowledge of the casts has really only started to come together in any sort of cohesive pattern in the last one hundred years or so, as vampires were free to speak about their origins and their makings. There’s a lot of very old vampires who are still passing. They don’t hold with coming out. But their knowledge is invaluable...when they choose to speak. It’s still an incomplete picture.”

Rob rapped his knuckles on the table. “Wait, wait. Forgive an old Scot for being picky. Are ye telling me ye know the origins of vampires now?”

“We...think so,” Ryan prevaricated.

Cáel stood up and walked deliberately into the space in the middle of the table. “Think a minute before you ask the questions burning in your minds. I know you
think
you want the answers. Everyone wants to know where they come from. But consider...can you afford to know the truth? All of you have lived very long and mostly peaceful lives. They’ve been productive and sometimes happy and you’ve arrived at this spot in time. An unprecedented place in time where vampires are on the verge of acceptance by humans. You’re already living lives untrammelled by disguises or daily fear of discovery.” He turned, looking them all in the eye. “Consider before you open this Pandora’s box. Ryan isn’t hesitating because he doesn’t know the answers. He knows the answers. He doesn’t like what they’ll do to you when
you
know them.”

“Too late, Stelios,” Brenden growled. “That bloody woman opened the lid already. She knows about the casts. That means we have to know in order to deal with her.”

“You don’t have to deal with her,” Cáel pointed out. “Walk away. There’s other consultants. Other experts.” He looked at Christian, who nodded.

“We can’t afford to walk away from her,” Justin said. “She knows too much. Who are her sources? It’s better to have her working for us than against us.”

Cáel sighed. “The casts will divide you,” he warned. “Just when you’ve learned to work together.”

“It doesn’t always work that way, human,” Rob said softly. “All the clans of Scotland managed to settle their generations’ worth of differences and fight together for two wars, to win back Scotland. If the need is great enough, a race will unite.”

Cáel lifted his hands and let them drop. “I cannot gainsay you, highlander.” He went back to his chair and sat heavily.

Nayara felt fear curl in her gut. Cáel’s concerns were valid. She glanced at Ryan.

He grimaced. “There are four casts,” he said.

She sighed.

“The names of the casts come to us from the past,” Ryan continued. “There is The Eridu, The Lagash, The Assur and The Malsinne. The Malsinne are the dark cast...” He hesitated. “We’re still sorting this out. Back in the past, to distinguish a cast member, you would track them back via their maker. But no one has kept records of such things for millennia. But the casts have distinct talents and abilities and we’ve found that one of the easiest ways of determining cast is by the vampire’s predilection toward psi talents.”

There was a small, puzzled silence.

Brenden frowned his way through it. “You mean to say, depending on which psi trick we pick up fastest, you can figure out which cast we belong to?”

Ryan nodded. “Some casts can’t pick up some talents at all. And there are behavioural clues, too. You inherit traits just like you inherited genetic traits from your human parents.”

The room was utterly silent. Nayara, who had heard this all before, watched the intense concentration on their faces and worried again if they were wise to pass this on right now. But Dionne had given them little choice.

“What are the traits, then?” Christian asked.

“Telepathy among members of your own cast is common to all. We think it may work even when you’re in your own timeline.”

“Not just human?” Christian asked sharply.

“Not just human,” Ryan verified. “The Eridu are predisposed toward precognition and emotional manipulation, especially through touch. There’s more of the Eridu still passing than not because they’re more inclined to want to stay out of humans’ way. They’re loners, the ones that like the long travel assignments.”

“Demyan,” Brenden declared.

Nayara glanced at Ryan. Fahmido had tentatively classified Demyan as an Eridu.

“The Lagash lean towards Omni-Linguism.”

Christian’s head jerked around from his conversation with Rob.

“They also soak up anything to do with flight or levitation. They have particularly good balance.”

Rob laid his hand on Christian’s arm. Christian was a swordsman and good footwork was a necessity for a master swordsman.

“The Lagash tend to be peace-makers and politicians. Thinkers,” Ryan finished.

Like Ryan
, Nayara mentally finished with a sigh.

“The Assur tend to pick up telekinesis very well,” Ryan said. “They’re also the ones with great fighting ability—superfast reactions and strength, more than the other casts. They’re usually leaders, warriors.” Ryan glanced at Nayara.

Her cast.

Ryan grimaced. “Then there’s the Malsinne.” He hesitated again. “We’ve all known of vampires who seemed to be unable to learn psi talents. Vampires who were unable to become travellers because they simply couldn’t grasp the ability to jump.”

Heads were nodding around the table.

“Chances are, those vampires were of the Malsinne cast,” Ryan said quietly. “The Malsinne have no special powers. They have the hardest time stopping human drinking—the siren song runs strong in them. But they fight hard and dirty.” He hesitated again, then sat back. “That’s the four casts as we know them,” he concluded.

“You said the Malsinne were the dark cast,” Justin said. “Do you know why?”

“Yes,” Ryan said. “But I think that explanation is best left for another day.”

Justin scowled.

“You are not Malsinne,” Ryan added. “No one we know on the station is Malsinne. Everyone here can jump, time jump and grasp psi talents. The Malsinne have naturally found no place here, where we need those talents.”

“So what do we do about Rinaldi?” Justin asked.

“We hire her,” Ryan replied. “And we turn her, as requested. She will live on to appreciate the long term consequences of what she has started here today.”

Chapter Fourteen

When the door to her office announced Cáel, then opened automatically, Nayara barely got her feet off the table and onto the floor before he stepped in.

“Is this a good time?” he asked, pointing to the dozen or so reading boards spread across the coffee table. He stopped on the opposite side of the table and he didn’t sit down.

“I’m clearing my schedule. I owe you a story or two. We’re behind.”

He smiled and it made his eyes glow. “I didn’t have to nag you this time.”

Nayara pouted. “I can always cancel again.”

He held up a hand. “I give up.” He pushed the hand into his trouser pocket. “Nayara?”

“What?”

“Salathiel was a Malsinne, wasn’t he? From all the hints you and Ryan have given, about how he changed...that’s part of why he changed, isn’t it?”

Nayara put the board aside. Sadness filled her chest and made it difficult to breath. “We think so,” she replied. “I suppose learning about the casts has given us this one positive thing. It has given us an explanation. A partial explanation, anyway.” She tried to smile at Cáel. “It’s not the whole story though.”

“I know. There’s never only one explanation for something that complicated.” He smiled back. “I have a couple of people waiting outside to see you and Ryan. May I bring them in?”

She pushed at her hair. “I...yes.”

“You are stunning as always,” Cáel assured her. “And Brenden has passed them through his security check.”

Only slightly mollified, she sent Ryan an alert.

The door to his office opened. “What’s up?” he asked.

Cáel headed for the outer office door. “A couple of people you should meet.” He opened the door and beckoned.

A man—a human—stepped into the office and Nayara’s senses kicked into high alert. She stood up.

He was perhaps as tall as Ryan and blond. Not pale blond like Christian. A dirty blond. His hair was a practical short length that Nayara knew was a compromise between a military haircut and civilian length. He wore black trousers that looked like simple business trousers but were probably made of polymer and virtually indestructible, black shoes with soles designed to grip any surface, a black stretch shirt and a simple black jacket over the top that had four big utility pockets on the front and probably two in the side seams, as well.

He had a square, hard jaw, a straight nose and unexpectedly blue eyes that were looking straight at her. But it was his walk and the way he held himself that told her far more about the man that the clothing and the on-point look.

Highly trained in self-defence and offensive attack, she judged. With or without weapons. A fighting machine that considered himself on duty right now. He was quartering the room. Judging.

“You’re a Universal Warden,” Nayara said, as Cáel turned to introduce him.

“You’ve met one of us before, ma’am?” the man said. His voice was deep and he spoke with a confident tone. This one was a commander.

“No,” Nayara replied. “But you cannot be anything else. And you just confirmed it.”

“Kieren, ma’am. I’m the head of my unit.” He nodded.

“No last name? No rank?”

“The Wardens are like the old French Foreign Legion,” Ryan said. “Once they take in a recruit, his past is wiped clean and all members are equal. The Wardens are big on fraternity.”

“For a reason, sir. It works,” Kieren replied.

“The Universal Wardens are the elite para-military fighting force in the world,” Cáel said. “The Worlds Assembly use them for all civilian and military operations, including the personal safety of the Assembly. I just hired three units and assigned them the safety of Agency personnel during public functions. Keiren’s unit has the lead.”

“Without discussing it with us, Cáel?” Ryan replied. “What the hell—”

“But it will look so sexy, why wouldn’t you want them there?”

Nayara turned her attention to the woman standing behind Kieren and Cáel. The woman was the one who had spoken. “Excuse me?” Nayara asked.

The woman was short so she had to strain to see over the shoulders of the two men. Finally she stepped around them. Cáel moved out of her way with an apologetic wave of his hand.

“I said, why wouldn’t you want a Warden guarding you at a public event?” the woman said. “Look at the guy! They’re sexy. Hot. Having one of them at the back of your shoulder makes you look like you’re really somebody.”

Nayara glanced at Kieren. He wore no expression at all, but his jaw line was suspiciously taut.

Nayara turned her attention back to the woman. “And you are...?”

The woman gave her a huge smile. “Mariana Jones. But you can call me just ‘Mary’. I don’t go in for all that fancy name calling like you guys do. I know how important names are to you and all.”

Cáel lowered himself onto the arm of the visitor chair and crossed his own arms. He wasn’t going to help out at all. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

“You know that...how?” Nayara asked. She looked Mariana over. The woman was clearly human and in her forties. She was carrying a lot of extra weight, which she did nothing to disguise or hide. The clothing she wore was not in the least flattering. Mariana had nice skin and very nice grey eyes, but her clothes were a chaotic mix of colours that did nothing to enhance either. Her hair was greying and frankly pulled back behind her head with a piece of leather. She wore no make-up or other beauty enhancements like perfume or colourings.

“I read a lot,” Mariana said. “All the time, when I’m not working. I read everything. The nets, books. I watch clips, too, but I really like to read, more.”

“Oh, you’re the...um...writer?” Nayara asked.

Mariana rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. I’m not a writer. I just like you folks. Cáel clued me in on what you need. I get to hammer out the story of your life the way I see it and you clean it up properly afterwards.” She smiled again. Her smile was nice, too. She had good teeth and the smile made her eyes sparkle. “It’s a good idea. A real writer wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t get
you
.”

A dozen different questions occurred to Nayara, but Ryan asked one first. “Why on earth do you
like
us?”

Yes, why?
Nayara thought.

Mariana put her hands on her ample hips. “Well, it’s because you’re so different from anyone I know, I suppose.”

“You like that we’re different?”

Mariana laughed. “Of course, silly! Jeez...My life is so damned boring. You guys lead such interesting lives. You’ve really seen it all. Wars and big events and stuff. I just have this little old tiny life where nothing happens. Lord, my cat sometimes forgets to say hello to me when I get home at night. He’s so lazy he just stays in his basket!”

“It sounds heavenly,” Nayara breathed.

The door chimed and Nayara let it open. Brenden would be monitoring her visitors now that there were humans on the station, so this one would have been vetted, as well as escorted, too.

Dionne Rinaldi strode in, Justin right behind her.

Dionne had the sort of legs made for striding and she did it very well. Nayara resisted the need to tweak at her own skirt as Dionne planted herself in the centre of the room. The lights played wonderfully in Dionne’s hair and off the shimmery fabric of her business gown.

“The world music awards are tomorrow night,” Dionne said, without preamble. “I can arrange tickets for you in the stalls. I can’t even begin to explain to you how strategically important these tickets are. Anyone who is anyone will be there and they all sit in the stalls where the cameras will catch them.”

“I think you managed to adequately explain, after all,” Cáel said dryly. He glanced at Kieren. “It might be best if we picked up a bit later on your assigned duties.”

“With due respect, Assemblyman,” Kieren replied, “This event tomorrow night is exactly the sort of event my men and I need to be advised of. I’d like to stay so I can brief the teams.”

Cáel glanced at Ryan and raised his brow in question.

“You realize we can defend ourselves quite well?” Ryan answered.

“But when you do, it’s a publicity nightmare,” Dionne replied. “Wardens holding off over-enthusiastic fans won’t even register on-camera. I’d hire them, Ryan.”

“But everyone
liked
that he was protecting his mate,” Mariana said, from the further back in the corner, where she had stepped. She sounded like she was speaking to herself, but Cáel turned to look at her.

Dionne rolled her eyes. “Nayara, we’ll have to find you something suitable to wear. This is a black tie—”

“Just a moment, Dionne,” Cáel interupted. “Mariana, what did you say?”

Mariana ducked her head. “Oh, don’t mind me.”

“The metrics demonstrated that Ryan’s performance with that vegetable was greeted with universal horror,” Dionne said.

“It was a sucky survey,” Mariana replied.

Dionne’s mouth dropped open and she turned to face the older woman. “Who
are
you, exactly?”

“I’m no one,” Mariana replied, with a wave of her hand and a smile. “But we bought a copy of that research you were talking about just then, because we heard about that result and thought it was a bit too bad to be true. And it was.”

Dionne gave a laugh that Nayara suspected was supposed to be dry, but came out sounding trill. “It was a professional survey completed by a highly reputable research company. I assure you, only expert analysts would be able to deconstruct the data in any meaningful way. Trying to break it down on a kitchen table using a souped-up home network will simply leave you confused. Demonstrably so.” She turned her back on Mariana.

“Oh, we used the computers in the laboratory network at CERN City to break the data down,” Mariana replied.

Nayara clamped her jaw tightly to hide her smile.

Dionne spun to face Mariana. “How is that possible?” she replied flatly.

“One of our members works there,” Mariana said. “So we used his graveyard shift to run the data. It only took a minute on the mainframe there. Barely a hiccup, really.” She gave a big smile. “The survey was biased. In all sorts of ways. The sample group was primarily white North Americans in their late eighties or their first regeneration. They’re people who remember the Censure period and are most likely to really hate vampires. And the questions were flat-out biased. The primary question, the one that got nearly a ninety-five percent thumbs down, was when they showed the clip with the tomato. They didn’t show anything leading up to it, or that Ryan was stopping the tomato from hitting Nayara. They just showed the tomato in his hand, the juice running down his hand and his fangs. Then they asked ‘does this give you an unpleasant reaction?’” Mariana threw up her hands. “Well holey-moley, I got an unpleasant reaction from watching you walk into the room and treat me like a dumb hick, Ms. Whoever you are, but I’m not about to lynch you over it. Neither are most of the people who watched Ryan with that tomato.” She smiled warmly at Dionne. “It was a sucky report, like I said.”

Cáel was smiling openly, but he was standing behind Dionne.

Dionne considered Mariana for a moment. “Even if the report is biased, it doesn’t mean that just because a few extremists—”

“We’re not extremists,” Mariana replied with gentle dignity. “We’re a neural network.”

Dionne laughed. “There’s barely any difference! Just because you and a few of your gossiping friends share a few common thoughts about vampires and were clever enough to spot the weakness in a report, it doesn’t mean you hold a valid opinion in this room about the
true
public perception of vampires.”

“There’s five hundred and thirty thousand of us,” Mariana replied.

“Which proves my point,” Dionne said coolly. “That’s not even a quarter of a percent of the world’s population. You’re hardly a significant sample.”

“That’s just the eastern quadrant of the United States,” Mariana replied.

Not just Dionne blinked at that. Nayara saw Ryan’s attention jolt and Cáel’s, too.

“How many networks like yours exist?” The question came from Kieren.

“There’s twelve in North America,” Mariana replied. “We don’t really keep tabs on everyone else unless we’re trading favours, like the CERN City thing.” She gave a small smile. “You know what the nets can be like. It changes all the time, depending on who is hooked into which net.”

Nayara caught the look Ryan sent her and interpreted it. Perhaps they had been trying to win over the wrong demographic all this time. Half their battle was already won...via the nets.

Dionne Rinaldi, though, had returned to her mission. The music awards. “Nayara, you will need to find a dress, if you don’t have one. Something spectacular, to compete with the glitter that will be seen on the red carpet. Usually, women coax a designer into sponsoring them by lending them a gown for the evening, if they will drop the designer’s name for the cameras, but with only two days, we’re not going to have time to arrange a deal like that, so—”

“What about the designer you used for the ball?” Mariana asked.

Dionne blew out her breath and turned to face Mariana again. “What?” This time her impatience was patent.