by John Scalzi
“Lady Kiva?” Vrenna prompted.
“I’m sorry,” Kiva said. “I got distracted thinking about sex.”
Vrenna smiled. “We still have the problem of getting Marce onto your ship,” she said. “Ghreni Nohamapetan still plans to have people on hand at Imperial Station in order to grab him.”
“Ghreni is looking at the front door,” Kiva said. “He’s not looking at the servants’ entrance.”
“What does that mean?” Marce asked.
Kiva looked at him. “That means you’re not coming onto the Yes, Sir as Marce Claremont, you’re coming on as Kristian Jansen, crew member.”
“How am I going to do that?”
“I imagine that when you booked passage Gazson Magnut tried to sell you some forged travel documents.”
“He did. I didn’t need to get them.”
“Well, now you do. More accurately, they’ve been gotten for you.”
“For which you’ll no doubt charge me,” Marce said.
“I’m charging you at cost, not the ridiculous fucking markup we’re charging everyone else.”
“Travel documents aren’t going to be enough,” Vrenna said. “Crew on trade ships have to have biometrics as well. With all due respect, if Nohamapetan is willing to pay three million marks to get Marce, he’s going to be checking the servant entrance as well, and that includes getting into Imperial Station’s biometric database.”
“You act like this is our first time smuggling someone on as a crew member,” Kiva said. She turned back to Marce. “Shave your head, you’re getting a dermal wig with cultivated hair. Scalp and beard. If anyone plucks a hair out of your head, the DNA would match Kristian, not you. You’ll get contacts to fake iris and retinal patterns, and you’ll get a thumb pad with the correct thumbprint and DNA. We’ll put lifts in your shoes. You won’t look like you. Unless they take a blood sample you’ll be fine.”
“And if they take a blood sample?” Marce asked.
“Well, then, I guess you’re fucked, aren’t you? But they don’t do that.”
“No one will notice you’ve manufactured a human out of thin air,” Vrenna said.
“‘Kristian’ has worked for us before,” Kiva said. “We have one or two of these for every system we work. So does every other house.”
“Why?” Marce asked.
“Because sometimes someone important fucks up and has to leave town in a hurry before someone like her,” Kiva jerked a thumb at Vrenna, “catches up with them and sends them into a hole. It’s entirely possible Ghreni will be using one of these himself soon, at the rate he’s going.”
“So I’ll have to be ‘Kristian’ this entire trip.”
“That’ll be your name, yes. Once we get into the Flow you can ditch the fake parts. We’ll update you in the system. One catch: You’re going to have to be an actual crew member the entire trip.”
“Why does he have to do that?” Vrenna asked.
“Because ‘Kristian’ is taking the place of an actual crew member. You take up crew space, you take up crew responsibilities. That’s the deal.”
“I don’t suppose I’ll get paid.”
“Sure you’ll get paid. Standard rates. Not that you’ll be able to spend them anywhere, it’s a straight shot to Hub.”
“And a refund on the passage fee we gave you?”
“Don’t be stupid.”
Marce smiled. “Just checking.”
“I’ll be charging you for the new identity too, by the way. Also at cost. Not cheap.”
“How do we get out of here, now?” Vrenna asked. “You know Nohamapetan will have people watching this building if he doesn’t have them doing that already.”
“Neither of you leaves yet.” Kiva pointed to Marce. “He stays here and we’ll bring in our people to work on him. Then he can walk out as Kristian.” She pointed at Vrenna. “You’ll have to wait until we’re gone. Sorry.”
Vrenna shrugged. “It’s not the worst place I’ve been holed up.”
Kiva nodded, and then stood up. “I’m heading back to the ship.” She nodded to Vrenna. “I’ll never see you again, which I figure is a tragedy.” Vrenna smiled at this. Kiva turned her attention to Marce. “You I’ll see on the ship, but we won’t exactly be socializing. So, nice to meet you, welcome to the Yes, Sir, and thank you for allowing me to screw Ghreni Nohamapetan one more time before I never have to fucking see him again.”
Marce smiled and nodded, and then Kiva was out of the conference room. Her local staff had already been briefed on what to do with the Claremont siblings and were warned that if their identity or location were leaked to anyone that the House of Lagos would make it a priority to fuck with the lives of everyone in their family for six generations at least. She was reasonably confident that no one would talk.
As she got into her fortified groundcar to head back to port, taking a circuitous route to avoid the neighborhoods where the fighting was still going on, or that had been reduced to rubble, Kiva reflected on two things.
The first was that the civil war on End both took and gave away—it fucked her and the House of Lagos with regard to the haverfruit and their monopolies, but sent enough rich people scurrying her way that her trip ended up making a profit. When that profit was added to the licensing and other fees that would eventually be recouped here on End, the House of Lagos would be in a very good position, with regard to other houses, and its ability to exercise power among them. Kiva had pulled out a save, and that was something she could use at home.
The second was that while she let the Claremont twins listen along to her conversation with Ghreni Nohamapetan, they didn’t know one important piece of information that Kiva did, discovered through the graces of the investigators that Magnut paid a frankly rapacious amount of money to in order to discover:
The Duke of End never told Ghreni Nohamapetan to ask the Count of Claremont to release imperial funds. And he certainly never authorized Ghreni to fucking kidnap one of the count’s children and hold him for ransom. He did both of those things on his own.
What the fuck are you up to, Ghreni? Kiva asked herself, as her groundcar lumbered off to port. What are you planning?
And while we’re at it, what is the rest of your fucking family planning, too?
Chapter
9
“The forensics from the scene are confused, Your Majesty,” said Imperial Guard head Sir Hibert Limbar. The Guard was responsible for the emperox’s security. Sir Hibert was pretty sure that he would soon be out of a job. “Some witnesses said they saw something launch from the crowd outside the cathedral and strike the balcony, but there is no conclusive video of that. Even if there was something launched from the crowd, the balcony is intentionally designed to withstand anything short of an artillery attack. We figured whatever was exploded there was planted there some time before. But we don’t know. It will be a bit of time before we have it sorted out.”
Cardenia nodded. She was in her private apartments at the palace, ears still ringing and on a medical watch due to concussion, but otherwise unharmed. At least physically. Where her heart was, there was a Naffa-shaped hole. She was attended by Limbar, by Archbishop Korbijn, and by Gell Deng, who was at least temporarily acting in the role Naffa held. Also in the room, Amit Nohamapetan, for reasons Cardenia did not understand yet but assumed she would soon learn.
“Reports are additionally complicated by the bombs that went off in the crowd near-simultaneous to the explosion on the balcony. It added chaos to an already chaotic scene,” Limbar concluded.
“How many dead in the crowd?” Cardenia asked.
“Ma’am, you shouldn’t worry about that right now—”
“Why not?” Cardenia said, and slipped into imperial mode, which gave her just enough emotional distance to deal with these people in her space, telling her horrible things. “Are we not emperox? Are those not our citizens? How many?”
“At least eighty, ma’am. Another hundred wounded, many critically.”
“And in the cathedral? How many dead?”
“Two, ma’am. Naffa Dolg and a member of the guard. Another guard member is critically injured.”
“And who was responsible?”
“We don’t know for sure. No one has come forward.” Limbar nodded to Amit Nohamapetan. “But Lord Nohamapetan has some information you may find relevant.”
Cardenia turned to Amit, regarding him tiredly. “What is it, Lord Nohamapetan?”
“Your Majesty, as you may know, a few years ago my younger brother Ghreni went to End to represent our interests there. In the time since, he has become a confidant and advisor to the Duke of End, who has been fending off a well-organized and well-funded rebellion. Your father and parliament authorized further funding and equipping of the duke and his forces, if not the direct, overt involvement of the marines at End’s Imperial Station. My brother wrote in his confidential reports that when news of that vote reached End, the rebels there vowed to retaliate.”
“You’re saying this is the work of End rebels?” Cardenia asked.
“My brother’s reports are of course delayed by a substantial amount of time, ma’am,” Amit said. “This is one of the problems with a far-flung empire. News is slow if it comes at all. But, yes. My brother was emphatic on the point that they were planning something.”
“When was this report from your brother?”
“We received it roughly three standard months ago, ma’am, which means he filed it nine months earlier.”
“And you did not think to inform our father?”
“The House of Nohamapetan did not presume to trouble your father on the matter without further investigation, especially during his illness. We have confidential reports from all our system representatives, which outline all sorts of local unrest, wherever our interests are. This proclamation was not in itself that noteworthy. Also, our analysts presumed that any retaliation would be focused on imperial interests on End, not here. You may be assured that Ghreni, my brother, would have informed local imperial authorities so they could take precautions. In retrospect, of course, we should have shared the information further. I apologize, ma’am.”
“No one thought they would have this far a reach,” Archbishop Korbijn said.
“You represent the executive committee here,” Cardenia said, to her. “Tell us what their thinking is.”
“Their thinking is livid,” Korbijn said. “An attempted assassination on the day of your coronation. The damage at one of the church’s holiest places. And scores murdered in a cowardly attack on innocents. The committee is ready to support you whatever you decide to do, ma’am. As will the guilds, the parliament and, I most strenuously assure you, the church.”
“We all stand ready,” Amit said.
Cardenia nodded. “We thank you.” She turned to Limbar. “Your thoughts on this End theory?”
“We need to investigate further, but the information Lord Nohamapetan has already shared with us is compelling. We’re looking for any End nationals here on Xi’an and Hub and digging into their histories to see what comes up. If there’s a connection here, we will find it.”
“Find it soon,” Cardenia said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What will you do now, ma’am?” Korbijn asked. “This is an indelicate question, but many thousands are still here, waiting to hear how you want to proceed with respect to your coronation. The rest of the Hub system is also anxious to know. It’s already been a day.”
“How long were the coronation celebrations going to last?”
“Five days, ma’am,” Gell Deng said.
“We’re in a period of mourning for five days, then,” Cardenia said. “From the moment of the coronation forward. See to it that the victims are honored.” She turned to Korbijn. “You will hold a service for them tonight in the cathedral.” Korbijn nodded. “At the end of the mourning period we will address the entire system, and the Interdependency.”
“The parliament will not want to wait to address this,” Korbijn said.
“We did not suggest work or investigations stop during this period.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“In the interim, publicly at least, we will be in seclusion.” She nodded to Deng. “Gell here will be your point of contact for the next several days.” She looked back at Korbijn. “We trust the executive committee will not protest handling administrative issues a short while longer.”
“No, of course not.”
“I will send updated reports when I have them and be available if you have questions,” Limbar said.
“We thank you,” Cardenia said, and rose. Everyone else rose with her, taking the hint they were dismissed. Only Deng remained sitting; he knew he was still needed.
“Your Majesty, a private word, if I may,” Amit Nohamapetan said, as the others exited.
“Yes, Lord Nohamapetan,” Cardenia said. She was still standing and did not offer to have him sit, and she assumed that he would take the hint that any word he wanted to have would be brief.
Amit picked up the hint, and his eyes flicked to Deng, still seated, registering that the word would not be all that private, either. He approached Cardenia instead, stopping at a still respectful distance, and spoke in low tones. “I wanted to personally convey my condolences to you in this moment of loss,” he said. “I know you and Naffa Dolg were close. It is hard to lose anyone we love, as my own sister learned with the loss of your brother.”
Oh, nice, Cardenia thought. Even in attempting to express a moment of condolence, Amit Nohamapetan couldn’t help but remind her that his family still considered the position of the emperox’s spouse their own property. She looked at him and saw the unremarkable face and unremarkable body and behind both, the reportedly unremarkable mind happiest in the pursuit of unremarkable pleasures. The sister and the younger brother were apparently the brains of the Nohamapetan outfit. This one was a lump. His appearance in this meeting was obviously an attempt to ingratiate him toward Cardenia by offering up useful information, followed by the humanizing moment that was happening right now. All delightfully scripted for her consumption.
Cardenia thought about the prospect of being married to, and having children with, this lump, and barely suppressed an impolite shudder. “We thank you, Lord Nohamapetan, and are gratified for your concern.”
If Amit picked up on the fact that Cardenia was still using the imperial address, he didn’t let it stop him. “I hope, after an appropriate time, that we can meet again in happier and friendlier circumstances.”
“It is to be hoped,” Cardenia said. Those circumstances being you no less than thirty meters away, she thought.
Amit, however, was not a mind reader and chose to interpret the carefully ambiguous words in a manner that was positive toward him, which was exactly how Cardenia had planned it, as much as she hated the necessity of it at the moment. He smiled, bowed, and exited. Cardenia waited until he was out of the room before she sagged a bit.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” Deng asked.
“No,” Cardenia said. “My friend is dead and this creep is still trying to arrange a marriage with me.” She stopped suddenly and turned to Deng. “I apologize, Gell,” she said. “I didn’t mean to speak like that. I’m … I’m used to Naffa being here. And speaking freely to her when we’re alone.”
The old secretary smiled at his emperox. “Your Majesty, I was loyal to, and silent for, your father for nearly forty years. It’s in the nature of the position. I would not presume to be in the place of your dear friend. But I promise you that you may always speak freely near me, if you choose. My loyalty is to you now.”
“You don’t even know me,” Cardenia said.
“With respect, ma’am, I disagree. I’ve known you for years. First through your father and his peculiar but fond relationship with you. And for the last year, I’ve seen enough of you to get a sense of you. If I know nothing else, ma’am, I know that you are worth being loyal to.”
Cardenia’s ey
es suddenly welled up. “That’s one of you, at least. That’s a start.”
“What may I do for you now?” Deng asked.
“Can you bring back Naffa?”
“No, ma’am.”
Cardenia jerked a thumb back in the direction of Nohamapetan. “Can you tell this creep to take a hike?”
“If you wish it, ma’am.”
“But you don’t advise it.”
“I don’t consider it my place to give advice to emperoxs, ma’am.”
“I need someone to give me advice right now. I don’t have anyone else.”
“Rather than my own advice, let me tell you what your father thought of the Nohamapetans, to help you make your own decisions,” Deng said. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me telling you now.”
“Please.”
“He thought their ambition was admirable. He didn’t consider them particularly wise, however. He thought that left unchecked they would eventually cause him, as emperox, to, as he called it, ‘make a mess to get them back into line.’ Which is why he eventually manipulated the Nohamapetans into suggesting that Nadashe Nohamapetan should marry your brother. He believed that as a couple their ambitions were in accord, and that then the Nohamapetans would have a reason to act with less stupidity. That was his word, not mine.”
“So you think my father would want me to marry Amit Nohamapetan. To keep them in line.”
Deng looked slightly pained.
“What?” Cardenia asked.
“This will not be kind,” Deng said.
“Say it anyway.”
“Your father believed the marriage of your brother and Nadashe would work because they were complementary to each other. Complementary with an ‘e,’ not ‘i.’ He didn’t believe you and Amit were complementary. He considered you passive, and Amit unintelligent. And the marriage of the two of you would leave Nadashe, who is the power of her generation of Nohamapetans, unfulfilled in terms of ambition. And that would spell trouble for you. And for the throne.”
“Maybe he would have preferred I marry Nadashe,” Cardenia said.