Marduk's Rebellion

by Jenn Lyons

Lorvan’s death? A few missing years in my files between the ages of eight and fourteen?”

  He drummed his fingers against the back wall. “How did you know Minister Lorvan?”

  “What makes you think I did?”

  “I realize you’re not truly servant-caste. Your parents were demoted scholar-caste, every test score we have on you as a child was off-the-charts. You should be scholar-caste—real scholar-caste and not pretend like a lot of League black ops—but don’t treat me like a moron. You knew who he was before I told you. Every witness in that restaurant agreed that Lorvan walked straight inside and to your couch, only your couch, and had an argument with you. So how is it that you knew him?”

  “I noticed he didn’t set off the alarms either.”

  “He wouldn’t. They’re not programmed to stop Sarcodinay.”

  “Hmm.” I hadn’t known that.

  He was starting to grow angry. “I’m losing my patience with you, lady.”

  I laughed. “Lady? Never in my life-”

  “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  I sat down on the edge of the bed. “You know, Campbell, I think you might be one of those rare honest men trying to get by in an ugly world. If you weren’t MOJ, I think I could even like you. But step back for a minute and look at it from my position. You’ve come in and told me that a Sarcodinay murdered my best friend, and that Sarcodinay was, in turn, killed by a janitor so lethal he’d have given Flynn a run for his life. A janitor whose sole purpose seems to have been to kill the Sarcodinay Minister of Education before splattering his own brains all over the glowing marble. You have me trapped here until someone protests too loud or I die of old age. Why should I trust you? Why should I tell you so much as my bra size?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched, but his eyes remained cold. “So now we’ve reached the bargaining phase.”

  My smile lowered the temperature of the room. “Indeed.”

  “All right. It’s against my normal judgment, but we can work something out. The only reason we’re having this conversation at all is because none of my men are seriously injured. You were distraught and in shock. You’re a Black Flag. It’s my own fault for not taking that seriously. I can probably get you out of here with nothing more than a promise to show up for some post-traumatic stress counseling.” He chewed on the corner of his mouth and looked at me thoughtfully.

  I stared back. There’s such a thing as losing too quickly. Campbell seemed more stubborn than that, and too willing to let me get away with banging up his men. “They’ve already called, haven’t they? You’ve been ordered to let me go.”

  Tal-Campbell’s eyes narrowed and his expression turned ugly. “I hope you enjoy your freedom. It won’t last. We’re keeping an eye on you, and when this is over, when the treaty’s signed and official, you’re going to slip up on something. Your friends in the Black Flag Club won’t be able to save you then.”

  “I don’t have any intention of giving you that-” I stopped. “What Black Flag Club?”

  Campbell scowled, his expression suspicious. “Ernak Szabo himself called.”

  I blinked at him. “I...I’ve never met the man.”

  “He still called.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t even like him. I don’t like his politics. I don’t like his methods. They remind me of-” I stopped before I finished the sentence: They reminded me of MOJ.

  “He was on the vid to Secretary Tal-Stiles four hours after your arrest. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

  “Four hours?” I frowned, confused. “That’s fast. How’d he find out so fast?”

  “I was hoping you’d tell me.”

  I licked my lips. Paul had mentioned Ernak Szabo. Paul had said Ernak Szabo hadn’t forgotten me, hadn’t forgotten what I’d done to get him his hyperdrives on time. How would Paul know that if he didn’t know Szabo personally? Just what had Paul gotten himself into?

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  Campbell nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He sounded tired and defeated. “Kerethres, release the door on cell 412-c.”

  The plastic slid down into the floor.

  “Go on.” Campbell rubbed his forehead. “Your boss is waiting for you downstairs with your belongings.”

  I started to walk down the hall and stopped. “You said my file stopped when I was eight.”

  He looked up. “Yeah.”

  ”You said it mentions my parents. The file says what happened to them?”

  Campbell nodded, his expression still sour.

  “You must think I’m a monster.”

  “The thought may have occurred to me.” His expression didn’t soften. “Now get out of my sight.”