by Jenn Lyons
Tal-Lennox, but he didn’t seem any happier than I was. He’s been reporting to the Ministry Secretary, Tal-Stiles Breman. And, at least until the peace treaty, Stiles reports to Tirris Vahn.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Three murders.”
“Three murders,” he agreed, “if Shaniran was one. Hundreds dead to kill three Sarcodinay. Why?”
“Who killed Kelhelion?” I asked.
“I’m not supposed to know.”
“But you do know, don’t you?”
“She was League. Stephanie Xian. League Councilman Xian’s wife. She brazenly walked into headquarters just after the Emperor made his announcement, dressed up in white and gold—”
I winced.
“—And demanded we arrest her. Since the treaty had just been announced, she was taken to Kelhelion. She wrestled a gun away from one of the guards and killed everyone in the room including herself.”
“Keepers. No wonder Szabo Ernak’s boys are sticking their fingers into everything.” That was an angle that finally made some sense.
“What do you mean?”
“Councilman Xian is in Szabo’s camp. He’s one of Szabo’s strongest supporters on the Council.”
“So you think Szabo’s trying to cover this up because it will make one of his people look bad?”
“It’s a motive.” I closed and open my hands, which felt clammy. At least my left hand was responding to commands again. “A man from Szabo’s secret police just made it explicitly clear that it wouldn’t be healthy for me to keep looking into the Lorvan matter. Maybe what he really meant is that it wouldn’t be healthy for me to make too big a deal about Kelhelion’s murder.”
“Good thing you’re not looking into it then, isn’t it?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “What good does that do if no one believes me?” I turned back to the holographic displays. “Three Sarcodinay dead. Three important Sarcodinay, and yet the Sarcodinay themselves haven’t said a word. Not a whisper of accusation, not a whimper of complaint, even though two of the killers had known League ties.”
“This last one was League too?”
“A Navy officer named Jessie Malloy,” I was turned away from him, so he couldn’t see the expression of disquiet that came over my face when I said the name. I played a tattoo on the metal side of the cradle with my fingertips.
I looked over at the MOJ detective and asked, “Why are you here, Tal? If you’ve been taken off the case? Shouldn’t you be out catching crooks or something?”
His expression darkened. “I’m doing the same thing here you are: putting my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“I just wanted to find out why the Sarcodinay killed my friend.”
“And? What did Shaniran say?”
“He said he didn’t know.”
“You believed him?”
“No. He was lying.”
“Are you going to leave it alone? Go back to whatever it is you do when you’re not hacking into computers or breaking convicts out of prison?”
“When I’m not doing that, I’m asleep.” I stared at him, wondering just what sort of MOJ agent Campbell was. You couldn’t always tell. Sometimes the ones who seemed to have the biggest sticks shoved up their backside were the ones who would look the other way when it really mattered. “They were pretty clear about what might happen to me if I don’t drop it.”
He scoffed. “I haven’t known you long, MacLain, but even I know you don’t do what you’re told.”
He was cute when he was irritated, which made him cute most any hour he was awake. I couldn’t quite stop myself from smiling. “No, of course I’m not going to leave it alone.”
He was busy doing his own appraisal of my qualities, and whatever he saw made him nod to himself in satisfaction. “I didn’t think so. Tal-Stiles can take me off the case all he wants, but as of the Emperor’s proclamation the League is in charge, which means that who I work for is a matter for debate. The Sarcodinay want this covered up, but I don’t take orders from them anymore.”
“That’s pretty thin, Campbell.”
“Less thin, if we were doing this together. Szabo seems awfully fond of you. I bet he’d look the other way if we don’t make too big a scene.”
“Campbell—” I ran a hand through my hair. “You’re the good guy remember? Your job is to hunt down the bad guys like me. You don’t work with us.”
He shook his head. At some point since I’d seen him last he’d changed his mind about me. Disgust and condemnation had changed to friendlier emotions. He’d come to regret not siding with his first impression. “You didn’t kill my men,” Campbell said, as if there should be all the explanation necessary to clear up all mysteries.
“The timing was bad...catch me later if we end up on opposite sides of a war again.”
“Do you know how many MOJ have died during your raids? Your little prison breaks?”
I made a point of examining the sides of the cradle. “I’d rather not know.”
“I didn’t want to either, but felt obligated to look it up. I expected a very large number, something that would cement the kind of woman your file describes, so you can imagine my surprise when the un-doctored MOJ reports indicated the real number was small and attributable to friendly fire.” He looked as if even he didn’t quite believe what he was saying. “You have any idea how difficult it is to go into enemy territory in the middle of a war, in combat situations, and not kill the enemy?”
I tossed him a wry smile. “In point of fact, it’s remarkably easy. Don’t attack anyone.”
“That simple, is it?”
“You know, it really is. People over think these things.” I fought off the temptation to go into the galley and pour myself a drink. I was feeling in the mood for something with enough kick to overpower having to deal with Campbell, but we didn’t have gravity, so it would just be a mess. “All right, fine. You’ve learned my dark, dirty secret: I try to keep the toe-tags to a minimum. I would consider it a favor if you didn’t ruin my reputation as a cold-hearted killer by spreading that fact around.”
“I just want to understand—”
I sighed and silently cursed whatever deity had decided to throw a dead albatross like Campbell in front of my path. “Why do people kill each other, Campbell?”
He snorted. “I don’t have time—”
“Neither do I. Whoever is responsible for this is already on their way to their next victim, and if I want to keep up, I need to move fast. You are letting yourself be distracted by the fact that I’m not behaving the way the Sarcodinay have taught you a Black Flag should. Get over it.”
“Fine, but help me. Please.” He smiled. “I bet you like it when I say please.”
Keepers, he was flirting back. MOJ agents were absolutely not supposed to flirt back. There were rules about this sort of thing. “You really want to be my partner?” I found myself grimacing at my poor choice of words.
No help at all that Campbell had the sort of tall, wide, large built, well-put together architecture that I’d never much minded spending an evening or two exploring at leisure in the past. His ancestry was as vague as most Urban humans who’d spent generations having their marriages planned for them by gene-priests: a little Asian, a little African, a little European, and given the rumors of random name assignments, probably no actual Scottish at all. His arming suit was every bit as skin tight as I expected and Campbell had been taking care of himself; it was a nice view. I liked looking.
Heaven help me though, this wasn’t the time.
Campbell paused, and gave me the uncomfortable feeling that while he might be as naive about sex as any Urban admin caste, he was a fast learner and willing to put in all the extra study hours required to get himself up to speed. “We’d make a good team.”
I turned away and contemplated hyperspace.
He swiveled in his seat. “I didn’t think this would be a difficult proposition. You want to look into this. I want to look into this. We’ll accomplish more if
we join forces. What is the problem?”
I closed my eyes and leaned against the cradle. “You have no idea what you are getting into.”
I felt him undo his own seat belt and launch over to me with all the gentleness of a large bull elephant. I could tell he wanted to grab my shoulder. He proved he could learn from previous experience by refraining, grabbing on to one of the ceiling rigs instead. “Of course I don’t. You won’t tell me.”
I opened my eyes and looked up into his. “Yeah, it’s the good old paradox, isn’t it? By the time you really understand the risks, it’ll be too late to back out. I’m giving you a warning, and a chance—this is deep and it’s dirty. Even Szabo’s boys know that much. Now Colonel Belisle was nice with his warning, but the truth is, I’m already in this too deep to just turn my head and hope the problem will vanish. I cannot walk away. You can. And you seem like a nice enough man so maybe you should while it’s still an option, because you’re about to blunder into secrets people will kill to protect.”
“Not going to happen.”
“I warned you. Please remember that.”
“Duly noted.” He smiled. “Now are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
I ducked my head in his direction and wished I could make myself feel like I wasn’t washing my hands of Campbell’s fate. I knew I should tell him to get lost, for his own good. Instead I said, “I can do better than that, Tal. I can show you.”
ggg
We left our stomachs back in hyperspace when we came out, tumbling down into Terra’s atmosphere before Medusa steadied and