Authors: Ann Aguirre
He smiles. “Does it not? Thank you for coming with me. I never worked with a partner like this before. It is most agreeable.”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t leave you hanging.”
“No,” he says. “You would not.”
I smile. “What should we do to celebrate?”
“Blow up the governor’s palace?” He cants his head, inviting me to smile.
I do. “We have some loose ends to wrap up first.”
“It is almost time. I had word from a compatriot today—”
“From the resistance?” I demand. “Tell me.”
“I
am
trying.”
“Sorry.” I have the grace to look embarrassed.
“The cure is on course to be complete in the next six months.”
“You mean all the provinces have been covered? I didn’t know there were that many teams working.”
“That was the plan. If we kept it quiet, the treatments would spread without interference. The Imperials pay little attention to what transpires outside the cities, so long as it does not impact their personal comforts.”
“Then all of those La’hengrin will be ready to fight soon.”
“Precisely.”
I take a deep breath. “I’m a little scared, you know? We’ve been planning this for so long. What if we fail?”
“The resistance has superb strategists. The Imperials have relics of an outmoded system.”
“When you put it like that…”
That’s the last chance I have for a tête-à-tête with Vel for a while thereafter. Events accelerate, conspiring to keep us playing our roles. Social obligations keep me meek while I hope that Gaius is doing his part. I’m frustrated at my present lack of ass-kicking, but if everything aligns, I’ll be on the front lines soon.
Vel plays me logs of the war council meetings. They’re long and boring, mostly. As the new primus, he has to listen to all the opinions before volunteering one himself. He discovers what the enemy knows about the resistance…and it’s terrifying. We have to find some way to keep them from acting on this intel.
I also fear we have a leak, somewhere. Fortunately, the cells are designed to minimize collateral damage. While we might lose one cell…and the base, the rest of us will be unharmed. Hindered, certainly, by the loss of headquarters, but the movement won’t die. We can rebuild.
“We have to warn them,” I say, heart in my throat. “Sasha and March are at the base.”
“Already sent word to Loras through an intermediary.”
“Not the incipient threat?”
“No, the means of contact do not permit such specific information. I asked for a meeting as soon as he can manage it…but I do not even know whether he is in the city right now. I hear things are tight in the provinces. More centurions.”
“Are they fighting?”
Vel nods. I
hate
that we’re not around to help. Hate it. There’s nothing worse than being helpless to prevent harm from coming to those you care about.
The situation comes to a head ten days later.
“It’s time,” Vel tells me.
“You have the data?” I can’t believe it.
“Gaius planted it in my subaccounts this morning.”
“You had alarms to warn you of the intrusion?”
“Of course.”
“Have you gotten everything you needed from the war council?”
“I have. Troop movements, plans. If we delay any longer, the intel will become useless.”
“Time to die then.” I shouldn’t sound so cheerful about that, but I’m so ready to leave this life. “How does it happen?”
I spare a moment’s regret for Gaius, who’s going to be crushed, but if the legate’s murder of his beloved Mishani makes him hate other nobles, so much the better for the cause. He might even work on our behalf, going forward.
“Murder/suicide. Tiana will help.”
“She’ll tearfully reveal what happened, just before the house went up in flames.” I nod. “But what about an inquiry?”
“The prince will want it covered up. He will not want it revealed that he promoted a man so unbalanced that he
murdered his La’hengrin lover for infidelity, then killed himself.”
Mary, the guilt’s going to break Gaius’s head. I steel myself against that knowledge since just because this isn’t true right now, it doesn’t mean something similar hasn’t happened, probably more than once. Better if Gaius believes—sees the corruption in the system—and acts. He needs to grow up anyway.
“We don’t have much time,” I say then. “I know he plans to report you at the earliest opportunity. He’s desperate to be with Mishani.”
“I will get ready. You collect the things we cannot leave behind.”
“Do you intend to warn the centurions?”
He offers a level look. “Do you want me to?”
After the way Cato treated me? No way. His men haven’t bothered me since the legate “discharged” their leader, but I have no warm feelings for them. I don’t reply; instead I grab a bag and start packing. Electronics and data equipment go with us. The clothes? They can burn. Jax doesn’t need pretty dresses. She’s ready to put her uniform back on.
Vel moves like a ghost through the house, deploying chemicals that will make the fire look like arson, not a bomb. The containers have timers and can be released once we’re out of here. I dress in dark, nondescript clothing and pull a hood over my distinctive hair. Nobody can see us walking away. It would be better if we could wait until nightfall, but Gaius won’t hold his report.
Sometimes you just have to roll the dice.
Vel joins me on the sidewalk, and we move away before he clicks the button. Tiana is already waiting for us at a nearby hotel. Once the place goes up, her mission begins. I hope she’s strong enough.
The smoke rises swiftly; I cast a glance over my shoulder and am astonished to see the house already engulfed in flames. There are two bodies inside, but they’ll be burned so badly that not even the best scanners will be able to tell they don’t belong to Legate Flavius and his lover, Mishani. At least, that’s what the supplier who sold us the chemicals
for the house fire claimed. It’s popular among those looking to fake their own deaths.
Tiana steps out of the hotel room, looking anxious. “Are you all right?”
“We’re great for dead people,” I reply.
She still doesn’t know it’s me, but she’s come to respect Mishani. Her mouth smiles, but her eyes are worried. “Did you evacuate the other servants?”
Vel nods. “They joined their assigned units. Everyone is safe.”
That much is true. We got the La’hengrin out. The centurions are another story, but I doubt Tiana cares about them anyway.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she says, stepping back into the room.
The door swishes shut behind us. This is a cheap place by Imperial standards, not much used except by tourists, and since the borders have been closed for so long, it’s hurting for custom. Nobles looking for a quick-and-dirty afternoon use the place most. The hotel also has shitty security, which Vel can wipe and alter to fit our needs, which is why we’re here.
Or more accurately, why we never were.
“We need you,” I say to Tiana.
She’s come a long way from the woman we met at Flavius’s country estate. She took over the household, recruited the other servants, and now she’s about to take on the most important mission of her life. I suspect she knows that; hence the nerves.
I go on, “There’s no way this story flies without your eyewitness testimony.”
“Yes, you are crucial to the plan, Tiana. To the resistance. If you would see your people free, you must act.”
She draws in a deep breath, and her face loses some of the green cast. “All right. I’ll go now, before I lose my nerve entirely.”
I remind her, “It’s natural for you to be scared. The prince will expect it. So if you’re stammering, trembling, it won’t matter.”
“Got it,” she says. “If it goes well, you won’t see me until the war’s over.”
“I know. Thank you for everything.”
“Do you have the device?” Vel asks.
She nods, and then goes forth to strike a blow for freedom.
“Will she be all right?” I ask.
“There is a small chance that she will undergo a security scan on her way to see the prince. If so, the dormant spyware she carries may be discovered…and she will be executed.”
My heart surges into my throat. “You knew that before?”
“Of course. It changes nothing, Sirantha. It is a risk we must take. If they do not believe that Legate Flavius is dead, if they think there is even a minuscule chance their operation has been compromised, they will change all their plans, rendering months of work useless.”
“Still, we should have warned her.”
“To what end?” It’s a question that has no answer.
Deep down, I know he’s right. And I’ve made the decision to sacrifice one for many already in this war. It just seems especially wrong where Tiana is concerned. She survived captivity. She lived through the cure, and now she’s working for the resistance—and we’re using her blind willingness…like the Nicuan nobles do. The comparison leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
Just then, the device crackles to life. “She must
be getting close. I instructed her not to initiate it until she passed security if there was a checkpoint.”
“Oh. So the scans won’t detect a dormant bug?”
“They shouldn’t. It will read as a small token. The electronic components are shielded, inert, until she activates it.”
And by the noises I’m hearing, she has. No vid, obviously, but I hear footfalls, the rustle of fabric, and Tiana’s breathing. This is good tech.
“Wait here,” someone tells her curtly.
She sounds like she’s trying not to cry. Good. That will sell the story.
“What is amiss?” the prince asks at length.
“Your Highness…the most dreadful thing…fire…” In nearly incoherent fits and starts, she babbles out the story we need the Imperials to believe: Mishani’s secret lover and Flavius’s insane rage.
Tiana spins the fight into a thing of tragic proportions, complete with Mishani’s dying of a broken neck, then how Flavius went on a mad rampage. He set all the fires and nearly killed Tiana as well, but she ran as the flames spread, and a centurion pulled her to safety. Now he owns her
shinai
-bond, and the town house stands in ruins. She thought the prince should know immediately.
At last, she falls silent.
Does he believe her? Shit, I wish I could see his face.
“This is…astonishing,” he says at last. “Appalling. I do appreciate your coming to tell me. I do need to handle certain…realities in a situation such as this. You said a centurion saved you? So you’re protected? Good…good.” He repeats the last word in a tone that makes it clear he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about Tiana’s fate.
“He’s waiting for me, Your Highness. I’m to join him at the barracks.” Which is where all centurions who find themselves without a patron end up.
“Thank you. You may go.” No words of sympathy for her loss or concern that she might be hurt or frightened.
She’s La’hengrin, less than nothing in his eyes.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
If he had been less distracted, less worried about
spin control, he might’ve demanded corroboration from the centurion, but it’s unthinkable that a La’hengrin could be wandering around telling stories without the express permission of her protector. For once, their rules serve us well.
A shushing noise tells me that Tiana has gone, and she’s left the device behind, just as promised. Her part is over; she’s safe. Thank Mary.
Seconds later, Prince Marcus makes a call. “It appears I have an opening in my office. Quite unexpected.”
I recognize the governor’s voice in the reply. “Oh? What’s happened?”
Marcus repeats the story, though without the emotion or the excellent flourishes. I find his version quite plebeian, in fact, but what matters is that he bought it. Flavius and Mishani are dead.
“Gaius seems to be coming along nicely,” the governor observes. “I’ve seen no sign of democratic bias since he came to work for me. So promote one of your other legates to primus and give Gaius an official title with my blessing. He’s been my aide long enough.”
That’s a lucky break although not entirely unforeseen. With Gaius on the inside, there’s a chance he’ll hinder their movements. That is, if he didn’t lie to Mishani in the hope of getting on her good side. Men sometimes do that when they’re trying to impress a woman. Given a taste of power, he might forget all his scruples.
But I hope not. He’s one noble I’d like to save.
Prince Marcus sounds suitably grateful. “I didn’t dare hope—”
“Spare me the false coin,” the governor snaps. “The wheels turn just so, and we both know it. Remember your family owes me when it comes time to reconsider my appointment.”
“Of course. How shall I handle the press?”
“Accidental fire. Death by misadventure.”
Marcus laughs. “The usual, then.”
“Indeed.”
They disconnect shortly thereafter, and the prince leaves his office. It was risky of Tiana to carry it in, but we needed confirmation that the cover story was effective. The bug will decay into splinters of metal dust, so by the time
anyone encounters it, there will be no clue as to its original purpose. And that’s our cue to scramble.
Vel sheds his skin and feeds the material into the recycler. He can leave no trace of what’s happened in this room. To avoid attention, he rebuilds his composite average-guy face; otherwise, people would remember an Ithtorian coming out of the hotel. He’s not associated openly with the resistance, but we must avoid scrutiny. I wish I could permanently change my looks with such facility, but I’ll have to made do with a cloak. I’ll be careful not to show my face to anyone on the way to the rendezvous.
Mary, I can’t wait to see the rest of my unit.
It takes him two hours to complete the transformation—with my help. This time, he gives me a flat-edged knife, and says, “We must hurry, Sirantha.”
Yeah, every minute we spend here increases the risk of discovery. Though it seems Tiana got away clean, it’s better not to risk capture. She knows where she left us, after all. First rule of guerilla warfare is to camp only where your enemies cannot reach you. This hotel doesn’t qualify.