by Steve Rzasa
“Yeah, I can’t say I blame her. Take care of yourself, Kazi.”
She waved, blew him a kiss, and vanished. He laughed again, tucked his wings, and dove toward the blue arch. It swelled in his vision, growing larger and larger, and then it was upon him.
Noise abruptly assailed him—voices, sirens, engines, and electronic alarms. Two ET-9 medibots, fat little diagnostic orbs flashing red lights and marked with scarlet crosses, were hovering over him. So was a bodiless human face positioned directly over his own. He blinked, confused, until he realized it was not, in fact, a floating head, but was firmly attached to an EMT in a red uniform who was standing behind the gurney upon which he was lying and leaning over him.
“Do you hear me?” His eyes were brown and intensely focused on him. Tower could see the implanted contacts that were rapidly conveying all sorts of information about his current status to the man. “Officer Tower, are you with me?”
Tower grunted as the pain washed over him. He hoped his insides weren’t as badly ravaged as Cara’s had been. “MCID. Tell Zeuthen. The bomb…”
“Bomb?” The EMT didn’t look as if he understood. “Are you trying to give me a message for someone? Someone at MCID?”
“Yesssss,” he gasped. It felt as if there was something stabbing him every time he breathed. “Tell Major Zeuthen, the bomb, is in son’s yacht.”
“The son’s yacht,” the EMT repeated. “Whose son? Wait, the Duke’s son?”
“Yeah,” he managed to get out, panting. “Tell major. And the jack. Take out now.”
The EMT blinked. “The link module? In your head?”
“Please,” Tower nodded. “Take it out!”
“But it’s under the skin—”
“Do it!”
Tower turned his head to the side to give the EMT easier access to the lump in his head and he didn’t relax until he felt the blade being drawn across the skin, the skin being gently peeled back, and with a firm tug, the module finally came unplugged from his skulljack. Only then did he feel safe enough close his eyes and drift off into a warm and pleasant darkness, one without augments, uploads, cyberdemons, and knives repeatedly stabbing his left side.
But when he dreamed, he dreamed of angels with human faces.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Faced with rebellion in the Assembly and widespread unpopularity among the people of Rhysalan, the Ninth Duke turned to a tactic that was first proven effective on Old Earth: he diluted the political power of the opposition by expanding the citizenry. In granting full citizenship rights to authorized artificial persons, Duke Harkencel not only ensured himself the support of the machine sentiences, but permanently secured the base of his office's power.
—from “A History of the Dukes of Rhysalan” by Thucidean Marcel
Hildy and Tower arrived at the soaring silver and bronze building in the company of two MCID Steyrers painted in grey sky camouflage. Military override on the part of one of the other vars permitted them to take over the public docking ports. Recalling his previous experience at the embassy and the less than enthusiastic cooperation provided by the guards, he was grateful that Major Zeuthen had not only approved his request for backup, but also assigned him a full MCID fireteam led by Sergeant Schalt, who was mostly recovered from his leg wound.
The bomb had been located and safely removed before Tower even woke up from his surgery. Based on the materials used to construct it, the operative theory was that Cara anticipated blame for the assassination of the Duke’s son and heir to fall on the Unity, further inflaming hostilities and creating more of the sort of chaos she found profitable. At Tower’s request, Major Zeuthen did not inform the Duke’s security team how MCID found the device, and as he later told Tower, the security officers were more intent on leaving the Duke with the impression that they were responsible for finding it than they were on learning how MCID had actually done so.
Today he and Hildy made quite the pair. Her cheeks were hollow and the skin under her eyes was so blue it looked almost bruised, but Tower knew he’d probably have to shoot her to keep her away from being in at the kill. She deserved to be there anyhow, and the look on her face when he presented her with the arrest warrant bearing the Duke’s signature made his hour-long wait at the palace that morning worthwhile. Also, she had a var, as Tower’s was yet to be extricated from the casino in which he’d “inadvertently parked it”, to use the term from Major Zeuthen’s report.
Tower himself had only been released from the hospital yesterday afternoon, but his two-day stay was largely uneventful. He’d fractured four ribs and ruptured his spleen, but the doctor cleared him for light, non-combat related duties after Baby helpfully pointed out that barring an MCID agent from his duties technically comprised interference with an ongoing investigation, which, under the Zero Zero Tango authorization that was still active, gave Tower sufficient legal cover to shoot him if necessary.
“Are you feeling all right, Hildy?” Baby asked her. “You appear to have lost three point two kilos since the last time I had access to your seat.”
“It’s definitely not a weight loss aid I’d recommend to anyone. I’d feel better if I could keep my breakfast down.”
“I understand that intestinal disorder is a common side effect of that particular poison. However, the symptoms should pass within two to three weeks.”
“Thanks, Baby,” Hildy said, winking at Tower. He was pretty sure that the doctors would have told her that already, but he appreciated her respecting Baby’s attempt to be polite. It was good to see the girls getting along.
“Zek said to say hey, Tower.”
Tower nodded. “Give him my regards.” The kid wasn’t bad, as overmuscled pretty boys who didn’t know one end of a gun from the other went. Carter not only came to visit Tower when he was in the hospital, but even hooked him up with some Krajinan takeout the night before last. Not that the kid deserved Hildy, but Tower understood that if it wasn’t him, it would probably be a musician or an artist. Or worse, some uniformed TPPD jackhole like that Vendersen poser. And Carter could certainly offer her more than an old quasi-widower with violently xenophobic tendencies prone to occasional cyberhallucinations.
Upon landing, they exited their vars and the men readied their charged particle beamers. With the exception of DouPonce, who was armed with an Armada LF-64, Tower personally verified each man’s carbine was set to stun. It was one thing to risk a diplomatic incident under orders. It was another thing altogether to provoke one through carelessness. Heavy stun was appropriate, though, given the way in which the Morchardese seemed inclined to augment themselves.
“Sitrep, Baby?”
“We’re in, we’re in charge, and their AIs don’t know it.”
“Excellent.”
They waited for the new Prime Captain to come and greet them. Tower was pleased that the new man had the sense not to keep them waiting long. He was a tall man who introduced himself as Blecker, and although he had the same orange eyes that Kotant did, he wasn’t half as intimidating as his predecessor had been. Blecker greeted them cordially enough, under the circumstances, and agreed that a maximum of four royal guards would be permitted to attend the meeting. He escorted the task force to the sitting room several floors up without incident. They encountered minimal interference from the household guards, who wisely had better sense than to interfere with a veteran team of Rhysalani soldiers wearing tactical armor and carrying combat weaponry.
They were met in the throne room by Prince Janos and Queen Beatrice, as requested. The four royal guards were there, as expected. And there was one more individual too. The royal barrister, Yost, stood in front of the Queen, his arms folded and his face flushed with outrage.
He wagged his finger angrily, first at Tower, then at Hildy. “What is the meaning of this unwarranted intrusion? We demand an explanation. We have cooperated fully in all aspects of the various investigations but we have not been apprised of any new information concerning the deaths of either the Crown
Prince or the Prime Captain, and we most certainly were not expecting an invasion of the Realm by armed military forces! This is irregular, highly irregular, officers, and we are well within our rights to demand answers!”
Tower smoothly drew his Sphinx, pointed it at Blecker, and dropped him with a stun burst. Before any of the four guards could react, they were already falling to the ground, stunned by the MCID men. Yost shouted and leaped back, but both the queen and her son were unnaturally calm.
Tower grinned at them as he holstered his CPB. “Don’t bother with the silent alarms, your majestinesses. One of the big brains from our military base is already inside your system, and your security AIs are now under complete MCID control. And your men are only stunned. They are unharmed unless they hurt themselves hitting the floor.”
“This is outrageous!” the queen spat, her eyes narrowed with fury. “How dare you!”
“It is indeed outrageous,” agreed Yost, who was still wide-eyed and white-faced. “This is reprehensible and unwarranted!”
“Unwarranted?” Hildy asked, with a half smile on her lips. “I got your warrant right here, Mr. Yost. Signed by His Grace, the Duke of Rhysalan, himself.”
She handed the document, stamped by the Duke’s own seal, to the astonished lawyer with a flourish. Then she turned her attention to the queen, who was casually attired in a white gown with gold stitching, but still looked like the fiercely regal mother of warrior princes that she was.
“Beatrice Jagaelleon, you are under arrest for the murders of Arpad Jagaelleon, Mara Tanabera, and Bram Kotant.” She removed a pair of binders from one of the pockets on her tactical vest and made a circular gesture with her other hand. “Turn around and place your hands behind your back, please.”
“I will do nothing of the sort!” the queen said frostily. Tower had to hand it to her, she looked as if the detector had suggested that she farted. “Is this some sort of twisted farce? Mr. Yost, surely this cannot be legal!”
“Are you mad?” the crown prince snapped at them. “You cannot possibly tell me you believe my mother had anything to do with my brother’s murder! And who is this Mara Tanara?”
The royal barrister had been frantically examining the arrest warrant. He nodded a few times, snorted dismissively, and then raised it and shook it in Hildy’s face.
“From the legal perspective, this is nothing but a worthless piece of paper, Detector Hildreth. I suggest you send a copy to Assistant Deputy Commissioner Swirsky at once! I am well aware one cannot expect the police, much less the military, to be properly educated on legal affairs, but I think you will find that he will confirm my assertion without demure.”
Tower grinned. The high and mighty royal barrister just put his foot in it. But you never knew how a man was going to perform under pressure until you pushed him, and Tower doubted Yost had ever imagined, even in his worst dreams, that anyone would dare to neutralize the royal guards and charge the queen with murdering one son right in front of the other one. Between his actions and Hildy’s, they had the man seriously rattled.
“What are you saying, Mr. Yost?” Hildy argued with the barrister. “That warrant is signed by the Duke! We picked it up at the palace ourselves! It is entirely legitimate.”
Hildy, Tower thought, was wasted in uniform. Undercover was missing a real resource in her.
“I have no doubt that it is legitimate, but its legitimacy is not the salient point. Detector, I understand you don’t often deal with these issues. However, your colleagues from MCID should know better. The Sanctuary Agreement between our two governments supersedes all civilian criminal justice, and as one of the persons listed on Exhibit A of the Addendum, Her Royal Highness has the sovereign right to claim exclusion from all aspects of the Rhysalani civilian criminal justice system. All aspects, which most certainly includes arrest! Ducal signature or not, this warrant was null and void from the moment it was signed!”
“So, Mrs. Jagaelleon, you are claiming a sovereign right to claim exclusion from civilian justice?” Hildy looked taken aback and her voice was suddenly uncertain. “Is that correct, Ma’am?”
“I most certainly am,” the older woman declared, her jutting out her pointed chin. “And I shall expect an apology from you, young lady, in writing! Such an accusation! It is as indecent as it is irresponsible and you should be deeply ashamed of yourself, Detector.”
Instead of looking abashed, Hildy glanced at Tower and shrugged. “Hey, I tried.”
“It was the decent thing to do,” he told her. He meant it too.
But now it was his turn.
He drew his Sphinx. “You’re going to have to come with me, Beatrice,” Tower said. He extended his free hand to her. “As you have refused Detector Hildreth’s offer of civilian justice, under Article 4, Section 10 of the Sanctuary Agreement, your person is now forfeit as per the violation of Article 2, Section 3, Subsection G3, and is henceforth to be considered the property of MCID, subject to the usual penalty.”
One guess what that is, you murderous bitch.
The royal barrister’s eyes narrowed as he tried to place the laws cited, then he suddenly blanched. That made Tower smile. He always enjoyed seeing someone had done his homework. It seemed the man wasn’t entirely obtuse, then.
“Wait,” Yost protested. “We want to surrender the queen’s person to the custody of the representative of the civilian justice system.”
“What?” both the crown prince and queen shouted.
“Sorry, Barrister,” Hildy shook her head. “One-time offer. You know perfectly well that once rights have been exercised, they can’t be unexercised.”
“Is he going to arrest my mother?” Prince Janos asked Yost.
“No, I’m not going to arrest your mother,” Tower assured him. “I’m going to execute her for three counts of murder. In truth, it should be four, but we’d have a difficult time proving intent with regards to her unborn granddaughter.”
The crown prince was too stunned to say anything. The queen was staring at Tower like a mesmerized prey animal unable to take its eyes off the closing predator. That’s right, he thought as he stared right back at her. This, lady, is exactly what it looks like when the day of vengeance comes.
“No!” the little barrister shouted, stepping in between Tower and the queen. “I will not permit this travesty to unfold! You should be ashamed to call yourselves police, to call yourselves soldiers! You can’t march in here, openly declare you’re going to murder the Queen of Morchard without so much as a charade of a show trial, and genuinely believe you’re going to get away with it! No! You are violating Sanctuary, you are violating diplomatic immunity and I order you to depart the premises of this sovereign embassy at once!”
“Mr. Yost is a very brave man, Corporal DouPonce,” Tower said, taking a step to the left. “I would draw to your attention to the fact that he is intentionally obstructing an MCID agent in the execution of his authorized duty.”
DouPonce didn’t hesitate. He spun the settings dial with his thumb, his finger twitched, and three lethal laser beams burned their way through the royal barrister. It was a textbook shooting, lower center torso, high center torso, forehead. The crown prince instinctively dove to the left, covering his face with his left arm, and the queen, her reserve finally broken, screamed in terror. Yost was dead before his body hit the floor.
“Do you not yet understand that this is no joke?” Tower put out his hand again. “It’s over, Beatrice. You don’t really want to drag your son down with you, do you?”
“In what? I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Tower.” The queen smoothed her gown with an air of nonchalance about her, but her hands were shaking. “It’s obvious the strain of this case has become too much for you. You know for a fact I had nothing to do with Prime Captain Kotant’s death; you were there and you saw how he died defending me! I had nothing whatsoever to do with this commoner of whom you speak or her death. And to think you have the gall to force your way into my sanctuary and accuse
me of murdering my own son, when your man just murdered a loyal servant of the crown.”
Her eyes teared up. She daubed at them with the corner of her hand.
“Oh, you’re good, aren’t you, Beatrice. Save the tearful act. We know. We don’t suspect, we know! I killed St. James myself three days ago. But that’s not who you were dealing with, was it, Beatrice. You weren’t dealing with a who, you were dealing with a what. We know more than you can imagine about Cara and we know exactly what you hired her to do.”
Queen Beatrice’s countenance froze.
“This is madness, Mr. Tower,” Prince Janos pleaded with him. “I beg you, no further violence. Please, leave my mother be. There must be something we can do to resolve this.”
Tower ignored him. “It’s over, Beatrice. The crown prince will be provided with a dossier when we leave, complete with transcripts of the killers’ recorded confessions. If you’ve got anything to say to him, if you’ve got anything to say in your own defense, you had better say it now.”
She glared at him. He met her eyes and stared her down. He knew that she was a black pit of shameless lies, and he saw that she knew he knew it. For her part, she saw the death in his eyes and looked away. Her nerve finally broken by his implacable stance, she sighed wearily and turned toward her sole remaining son.
“Your brother was a traitor, Janey. What the Rhysalani says is true. I arranged for a professional to kill your brother, as his crimes merited. The assassin made a false attempt on you; I was hoping it would be assumed that the Valatestans were responsible. You were never in any danger. And then I learned your brother had been polluting himself with a common whore, and not only that, but the fool managed to get her pregnant and jeopardize your claim to the throne! Can you imagine that, the House of Morchard reduced to a traitor and a bastard commoner?”
“Mother, no!” whispered Prince Janos, his face a mask of disbelief and horror. “Arpad was never a traitor! No man fought more ferociously for Morchard! No man spoke more passionately of our return there one day!”