"The rest of us are better off with them dead or gone."
"Neither you nor I was the one who made those decisions; nor would it have been for the best had we done so."
Neither you nor I. Neither you nor I. The words reverberated in my thoughts, the elegant words that were so hers. Finally, I understood what my subconscious had been trying to tell me for weeks. Either... or... Neither... nor. The same constructions in all three writers. I smiled even more broadly. "Do you prefer Terrie, Carey, Marley, or Siendra?"
"From you ... Siendra."
"I looked everywhere except where I should have."
"I hid beside Krij."
"She was the one who created Donacyr D'Azouza, wasn't she?"
"I was furious when I found that out." For the first time, she actually looked angry. "I almost broke the partnership up over that. I told her I would if she did anything more. Regardless of any consequences. That was why you never heard from him again." Siendra shook her head.
"Krij ... she wanted the best for both of us. Will you keep on with the partnership ... now?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"On you."
"Me? You're suggesting that I become part of ... everything?"
She nodded again. She was trying to keep from smiling.
"What will the Sorpr Tertia say?"
"You already know. Who better to add?"
"Blackmail... on two levels." But I understood. Krij was Krij, and Siendra wai Siendra, and both had to have everything personal in the open. So did I. Anything other than a three-way professional partnership would leave someone out. "Do we all get registered legal identities?"
"We don't need them." Siendra smiled. "Who would dare to steal yours?"
She waited.
"Sign me up ... should have done it years ago." I stifled a yawn and grinned. "Except I wouldn't have found you." Or Krij wouldn't havb. Or Fiorina Carle ... or whoever.
"I found you. I jus^ didn't do anything about it until you noticed me."
I wasn't about to idmit that I'd been so stupid and stubborn that it wouldn't have worked out any other way—or that my big sister had been wise enough to get me to look.
Despite my best intentions, I was yawning again.
"You're still tired.t
"All I've done is sleep."
"You had to heal. You had massive bruises all over your body." She reached out and covered my right hand with hers.
Heal? I'd had to heal in more ways than one.
I could feel my eyes closing, but it didn't matter. She'd be there.
Epilogue
History is the rationalization of the irrational by those who should know better.
Siendra looked at me across the breakfast table.
"I finally figured out who my actual client is."
Her brow furrowed. "Your client? Which one? We were talking about changes to the master suite."
"Oh ... the Wayles inheritance. I mostiy had it figured out while we were training. When you said that intelligence types had the same rights and restrictions as sisters. You'd already as much as admitted that Astrid Forte was an intelligence type. She had to be the one who stopped Legaar Eloi from infiltrating the TFA for access to body types and clone source tissue, or whatever. According to the inheritance code, she cannot inherit while she is an operative, but the bequest stays open for a minimum of 301 years if she can't be located. There were three heirs. Her half brother died in Assembly service, and if Vola Paulsky—"
"Vola Paulsky?"
"The other half sister named in the bequest. If she can get Stella/Astrid declared as a beneficiary while she's still an operative—"
"Vola gets it all," Siendra pointed out. "So she commissioned you because it's a crime knowingly to name an intelligence operative, and she had to know. What will you do?"
"I'll just send a polite note to Vola saying that I'd been engaged in a search for her half sister before I discovered the true circumstances. When I did, I realized that pursuing the commission would be committing a felony, as would be any effort to bring her half sister's name into any legal proceeding designed to disenfranchise her, even by siblings with the bestjintent. And I thought she'd like to know that so that she wouldn't inadvertently run afoul of the law."
"She'll disclaim it all."
"I'm sure she will. I'm also certain that she won't pursue it, and that Astrid will have the option of claiming the inheritance if she ever leaves the service of the Soror Tertia."
"You have a luncheon today?"
"Tomorrow. A new client... I think. A reference from the great-granddaughter of La Principessa Tozzi."
"I'm glad I won't be there."
"It will be fine." And it would be, as it had been with the Tozzis, in the end, although that commission, as with everything in Thurene, had proved that nothing was ever quite what it seemed.
Incoming from Krij.
I looked to Siendra. She nodded. She could have accepted, because she was now linked to Max and the vidlink had been to either of us.
Accept.
The holo projection appeared to one side of the breakfast table. Krij's cool green eyes went to Siendra, then to me. "I see you're both decent. That's almost a disappointment. You've only been married two weeks."
"Don't push it, sister dear." I managed not to laugh.
Siendra smiled, choking back laughter.
"I'd like to come over this afternoon, around four, to discuss a possible new client."
"Who might that be?" asked Siendra.
"Banque de L'Ouest. Apparently..." Krij drew out the word ironically. "... tpe former vice director of entertainment and leisure created a number of irregularities ..."
As Krij talked, I linked to Max. Find out what happened to Antonio diVeau, vice director of entertainment and leisure at Banque de L'Ouest.
Max came back immediately, and I scanned the short obituary. About the time Siendra and I had begun our simulator training, Tony's ground-car had suffered a nanite shield malfunction that had crushed him to death when he'd been working late. His body hadn't been discovered until long after any resuscitation would have been possible.
"... The managing director is interested in how we might be able to get them back into compliance with a minimum of publicity and public notice ..."
This time, I nodded to Siendra.
"Four would be fine," Siendra confirmed.
"Good." With that, Krij was gone.
"I thought you knew about that," Siendra said.
'Tony? No. I must have missed it. Who did it, do you think?"
"It could have been ordered by either Eloi. When the Frankan shell corpentity pulled their funds after the death of both Elois, all their affiliated businesses collapsed. Matrix picked up some of the subsidiaries, but no one has touched the escort service."
"What about the escorts?"
'They're all gone."
Somehow, that was also like Thurene. Maybe all hightech cultures were like that.
"And what about Maraniss?" asked Siendra, gently.
"He's locked away in Elysium. Forever."
"That doesn't sound like such a terrible fate. Ruler of Elysium—wasn't that what he wanted?"
"Do you remember what the original Elysium was? A resting place for the heroes, a place where all had been done, and nothing more could be done, where every soul was a ghost of his or her previous self."
Siendra waited, knowing I had more to say.
"Elysium is a miniature universe, birthed in a way from the dark energy of ours. So long as Maraniss and Classic Research held the portals open, Elysium was vital, perhaps even growing. With the links severed ..." I shrugged.
"It's a living death."
"Before that long, he brane will begin to reshape that part of itself—and there won't be any Elysium."
"But can't Maraniss create another portal?"
"With what? He has power sources there, and he knows the theory and the equi
pment needed, but he doesn't have the technical infrastructure to build what he'd need—not in a lifetime, let alone in five or ten, or even twenty years. Before that, he'll be lost in the white shadows he's created."
"How long, do you think?" Siendra mused. "Who knows?"
Siendra reached out and squeezed my hand. I wrapped my fingers in hers for a moment. "Let's go down below."
"You were down thore last night and early this morning."
I grinned again. "I know. Humor me."
We walked from the breakfast room to the study and down the hidden circular staircase. I let Siendra go first.
Filling the underground hangar was the darkness and the angled stealth curves of the latest Special Operations-style nightflitter. I'd been surprised at the delivery late yesterday. A ferry pilot from Tnurenan Arms had flown in and requested clearance to land. He'd handed me all the dataflats and manuals, saluted, and left as quickly as he could by the regular flitter that had trailed him. He had barely looked at me.
The new model was slightiy over twenty-five meters in length, with more than a few features that I could never have afforded or obtained on my own—such as rockets and a gun that fired nanite-composite shells.
"It's larger," I muse:d, hiding a grin.
"It has to be," Siendra replied. "It's configured for two pilots."
"Was that your contribution?"
"You didn't think I was about to let you go off alone, did you? Not in an armed nightflitter."
After admiring the gift—or reparations—of Soror Tertia and the Civitas Sorores, we turned and walked back toward the hidden staircase and up to the study. It now had two table desks and chairs in opposite corners. They matched.
Siendra turned and put her arm around my waist. We looked toward the east, where the sun stood above the courtyard walls, casting shadows across the stones, shadows that changed with the light. As Siendra and I had.
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