“And you, Eveleh?” he asked her. “How would you feel about it?”
“Has the knyaz been put back in charge of ISIS?” she asked, avoiding a direct answer.
“She didn’t say, but I don’t think so.”
“Then how can he hand out top-secret assignments?”
“Nkosi’s a patriot,” Avram said gently. “He doesn’t need an official title to care deeply about the Empire’s security. He’s an intelligence maven, a man with considerable resources and even more friends—of which I am one. If he sees a problem, he’ll try to fix it whether he’s Commissar of ISIS or not.”
“And people will just risk their lives for him?”
“Not for him. For the Empire.”
Eva looked about to say more when the office door opened and Hasina poked her head out. “My father would like to talk to you a minute,” she told the senior Bar Nahum.
Avram laid his left hand gently on Eva’s shoulder and returned to the office with the dvoryanka, closing the door behind them.
The Quantum-line, or Q-line, speaker was set up on his desktop. A Q-line was the most secure communicator available because it used a digital one-time cipher pad. Hasina’s device spoke only to one her father had, and they were the only two devices with this particular randomly-generated cipher pad. Even if someone intercepted the message it could never be decrypted by anyone who didn’t have a copy of the pad. As with most such encryption devices, this Q-line was voice-only. While picture and tridee transmission were possible, they were prohibitively expensive in this circumstance.
“Hello, Nkosi,” Avram Bar Nahum said.
“Hello, old friend,” came the knyaz’s deep, rich voice. “It’s been a long time.”
“Not long enough,” Avram said, “considering you never call unless the Empire’s in terrible trouble. I think the Empire could use less trouble, so I could use fewer calls.”
“I can’t fault your logic. Hasina tells me you won’t accept the job I have for you.”
“Not ‘won’t.’ ‘Can’t.’ Mikkel and I aren’t the men for the job any more—not if the safety of the Velikaya Knyaghinya is riding on it, as your daughter says.”
“I’m not Commissar any more. I have to use the resources at my disposal.”
“That’s exactly why I’m suggesting my son and Noy’s and Marnina’s daughter. They’re smart, fast and talented—at least as good as their parents.”
“They’re also totally inexperienced,” the knyaz pointed out.
“Nu? So how experienced were my brothers and I when we started? They learn quickly, these children today. They’re about the same age as your daughter, I might add.”
There was an audible sigh from the man at the other end of the line, who knew he couldn’t argue with any of that. “Tell me about them,” he said at last.
“Don’t think I’m suggesting them out of nepotism. They’re the biggest stars of the show. I’d much rather keep them here. Only my great love for the Empire would let me part with them.
“Judah’s the more enthusiastic one. He loves anything to do with spying. He listens to my old stories over and over. He’s memorized all those silly Ilya Uzi novels—”
“If he goes by them, he’ll be in big trouble.”
Avram smiled. “He knows the difference between them and reality. I made sure of that. He’s absorbed all the craft Mikkel and I could feed into him, and he’s always eager for more. Physically he’s in perfect condition, and mentally he’s up to the challenge. He’s got the background. As I said, he’ll learn quickly in the field.”
“And the girl?”
“She’s no girl, and you’d better stop thinking of her that way. She grew up very quickly—probably too quickly. Losing both her parents like that did things to her, made her a little wild.”
“I don’t need ‘wild.’ I need ‘disciplined.’“
“She’ll definitely give you tsouris there. She does things her own way, which isn’t always the way you or I would do them. But when she chooses to do something, it gets done right. Everything comes naturally to her. She’s the most brilliantly intuitive person I’ve ever seen. I’ve never known her instincts to be wrong. I’d trust my life—more importantly, I’d trust the Velikaya Knyaghinya’s life—in her hands. Much as it pains me to say it, between her and my son I’d rank her the one with the better potential—if you can convince her to take the job at all.”
“If?”
“I’ve never asked her how she feels about it. She’s always listened politely to my stories and my instruction—but with her parents’ death … plus I didn’t know for sure the subject would ever come up.”
“I see.” There was a pause of about five seconds—for Nkosi Wettig, a very long pause indeed. “Well, I’ve never gone wrong before trusting your judgment. Da, bring them in. I’d like to have a talk with them.”
* * *
As Avram went into the office to talk with Lady Hasina, Eva turned to her cousin. “I suppose this has you all excited,” she said.
“Of course. This is what I’ve waited my whole life for. Next to our act, this is the most important thing I could ever do. Don’t you feel it too?”
“You still have a parent,” Eva said slowly. Her expression was more serious than Judah could ever remember. “I only have uncles.”
Judah’s face fell. “Oh Eva, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking—”
Just as quickly as the somber mood had come upon her, it vanished again. “Besides, it would put a hell of a kibosh on my sex life.”
Relieved to be off the hook for his faux pas, Judah bantered back, “Spies have a great sex life. Ilya Uzi has at least three different women each book.”
“You know me better than that. If I do something I do it all the way. It has to become the most important thing in my universe.”
“You’re saying sex is the most important thing in your universe?”
“Right now, the act is the most important thing in my universe. Everything else revolves around that. I never miss a rehearsal, I never miss a performance. Come hell or high water, that’s the rock my life is built on.
“Fortunately, even with all that work I still have time for a hobby. And when I’m at my hobby, that becomes the thing that consumes me. When have you ever known me to do anything by halves, boychik?”
Judah smiled, and there was the faint hint of a blush. “You do tend to throw yourself into things.”
“Right. And I’ve listened to Uncle Avram’s and Uncle Mikkel’s stories. Being a spy is an all-day, all-night job. You’re always onstage. No breaks, no time for hobbies. I couldn’t do anything less.”
Judah tried to return to his earlier point. “But sometimes a seduction can be part of the assignment.”
“It’s not the same thing at all. Sex as a hobby is something I can enjoy. I can let myself go. But if I’m shtupping some guy to save the Empire, I can’t relax, I can’t let it be fun. I’ll always have to remember why I’m there, who I’m pretending to be. There’ll always be a clock ticking in my head. I know myself well enough to know that.”
She shook her head. “No, as long as I was working on an assignment it would become the only thing in my life. And that’s a commitment I’m not sure I’m r—”
The office door opened and Avram Bar Nahum stuck his head out. “He’d like a few words with the two of you,” he said.
Judah looked over at his cousin, who simply shrugged her shoulders and walked into the office. He followed her, curbing his enthusiasm outwardly for her sake, even though his heart was racing with excitement.
“They’re both here, Nkosi,” Avram said as he closed the door behind them.
“Avram tells me you can both be trusted,” the knyaz began without prelude, “and I trust him implicitly. Let me explain the situation I face and what I would like to see happen.
“There is an undercurrent of treason running rampant through the Empire. Local separatist movements are springing up on one world after another. I’m su
re you’ve heard the news reports of all the anti-imperial riots lately.”
“It’s hard not to,” Eva said. “There’s one almost every day, somewhere.”
There was a few seconds of silence from the other end of the line. When the knyaz continued, his voice was a little frostier; apparently he wasn’t used to interruptions. “As I was saying, there is grave unrest. That much is public knowledge. There are other things that are not so public.
“There’s been a rash of ‘accidents’ among the dvoryane. None of them are the same, there’s no apparent connection between them—unless you look at the bigger pattern. All the victims are in the line of succession. With only one direct heir, that line is fragile as it is—but with these deaths, the options become fainter and fainter.
“Then there’s the fact that a large number of dvoryane are building up their own security forces, barely skirting the law that makes the Imperial Navy the only entity charged with interstellar security. Private fleets are becoming the rule rather than the exception. I see all this as a prelude to civil war.
“The center of all the trouble seems to be Knyaz Yevgheniy Kuznyetz of Scorpio sector. His is the largest of the private fleets, nearly a third the size of the Imperial Navy itself. In addition, he has nurtured alliances with many other dvoryane that would give their group a fighting force that more than rivals the Navy. It would be mild to say I’m concerned.
“I also have separate evidence that Kuznyetz is supporting many of these separatist groups with arms and money, probably even using agents provocateurs to spread discontent. I believe he is waiting only for the proper moment to spark an incident that will lead to upheaval and start him on the road to consolidating his power.
“There are other factions that have also noticed Kuznyetz’s build-up, and they’re arming themselves as well. There will be a lot of blood spilled in a lot of quarters when the fighting starts—but Kuznyetz is the one I’m most worried about.”
The knyaz paused, so Judah felt it was safe to interject a question. “Have you told whatsisname, the current commissar, about this?”
“Edward Foundry, and no I have not,” Wettig replied. “I know him too well. He was one of my deputies when I was in charge. He’s a loyal man, a well-meaning man, I won’t fault him on that. But he has less imagination than a brick. He’s a slave to protocol. He runs everything by regulations, with no variation allowed. This idea is too big to be encompassed by his rule book.
“Besides, during his seven years in office I have little doubt the Service has been severely compromised. He’s weeded out too many intelligent, insightful people because they don’t work by the book. That left him vulnerable to infiltration. I have no hard evidence, but I will not underestimate Kuznyetz by assuming he hasn’t taken advantage of that.”
At a new pause, Judah felt bold enough to speak again. “What do you need us to do?”
“I have two missions in mind,” Wettig said. “The first is basic infiltration and information gathering. I need someone inside Kuznyetz’s paramilitary organization keeping me posted on what’s happening. I did have someone until a few days ago, but …” He paused significantly. “He had known ties that could be traced back to me. We hid them as best we could, but Kuznyetz has his own intelligence service. Our man was killed, but at least he got out some important information first. I need someone who’s never had any traceable connection to me to go in there and tell me what that traitor is doing.”
“I’m your man,” Judah said confidently.
“Perhaps,” Wettig said, still weighing his options. “Whoever it is, I can arrange false background for him as a military officer with good credentials who’s fallen on hard times. With the rapid expansion of his security forces, Kuznyetz always needs people.”
“You mentioned a second mission,” Eva said carefully.
“Imperial bodyguard. The Velikaya Knyaghinya has been kept safe on Earth since her parents’ deaths, and especially guarded since Tsar Vasiliy’s stroke. Now that she’s turned fourteen, the Sovyet Knyazey has decided it’s time for her to go out into her future realm and ‘show the flag,’ let the people get to know her. Her first scheduled visit will be to the planet Languor.”
“Which, by some marvelous coincidence, is right in the heart of Kuznyetz’s Scorpio sector,” Eva interrupted again. “Or perhaps not so marvelous a coincidence, given that Kuznyetz is active on the Sovyet Knyazey.”
“You keep yourself very well informed, young lady,” Wettig said grudgingly.
“I told you she was smart,” Avram chuckled.
“What you may not know,” Wettig continued, “is that Languor has been the center of some of the fiercest separatist riots in recent months. Kuznyetz is undoubtedly funding this activity, though I lack the resources for discovering exactly how.
“I think there will be an assassination attempt against the Knyaghinya while she’s on Languor. With Vasiliy in a coma and no direct line of descent beyond Natalia, succession will be in turmoil. This will be exactly the trigger Kuznyetz needs to set his fleet into motion. In the chaos, he and his allies will have the strongest voice.”
“But can he prove a legitimate claim to the throne?” Judah asked.
“Things get murky there. His current title was not his by birth; he got it by marrying Knyaghinya Teodora almost thirty years ago. Since then he’s pushed her into the background and taken over almost completely. But what his own heritage is, I’ve never been able to discover.
“Admittedly, someone with marital or blood ties to the throne would be accepted by both the dvoryane and the kuptsy more easily—but such things aren’t strictly necessary. With enough power—which he’s on his way to acquiring—he can stage a coup and start a new line.”
“And if he controls the timing of the Velikaya Knyaghinya’s assassination, he’ll already have his forces in the most advantageous position to stage this coup,” Eva said.
“Precisely. Which is why I must get someone I can trust on her security detail. I still have one or two strings I can pull within ISIS to get someone appointed to that assignment. Your uncle has praised you highly, Gospozha Bar Nahum. Are you willing to accept the assignment?”
All eyes in the room were on Eva. She took a deep breath before speaking.
“Both my parents died working for you. I’m told it was a noble death, I’m told they made a huge contribution to the security of the Empire. I’ve got the posthumous secret medals you gave them. I take them out of the velvet box every once in a while and look at them. They’re just bits of metal and ribbon. That’s cold comfort when I want a hug from my father, a smile from my mother.”
She paused before continuing. “I’ve dreaded this day ever since they died. I knew it would come, I knew you—or someone like you—would ask me to step into their shoes. And I didn’t want to die, not like that, in the prime of life. There are too many things I like doing, too many pleasures I enjoy. I don’t want to give them up.”
“So you’re refusing,” Hasina said.
“But I have to face the fact,” Eva continued, totally ignoring the interruption, “that they chose that life. Just like Uncle Avram and Aunt Ruth and Uncle Mikkel, they knew it was dangerous and they knew it was necessary. They did it for me, so the Empire I lived in would be a better, safer place. They knew the job could kill them, just like Benny—uh, he’s a wirewalker—knows his act could kill him someday. But he does it anyway, because the show must go on. Ultimately, that’s what I have to look at. That’s what I have to live by. The show must go on.”
She paused again. “Besides, Judah wants this more than anything, and I’d have to be a heartless bitch to keep him from it—and if he leaves I don’t have an act. I’d look pretty silly prancing around as just half a dance team.”
“You could do a solo act,” Judah said quietly, “or find another partner.”
“Nu, after I took all this time to get you broken in? You are my partner, bubbe. We know each other’s moves, we’ve got our timing down pe
rfectly. We are a team. We can’t break up.”
“You will not be working as a team on these missions,” Wettig reminded her sternly. “You will not be working anywhere near one another.”
Eva shook her head, even though the knyaz wouldn’t see it over the Q-line. “It doesn’t matter. We could be parsecs apart, we’ll still feel each other’s rhythm. I’ll still know to raise my left arm when he holds out his right. I can’t explain it, but there’s a synchronicity between us. We are a team, Your Grace, whether we’re together or apart.”
“Then I assume you are accepting the assignment. I will arrange—”
“Hold on, Your Grace,” Eva interrupted. “I’ll do it, but I’ll have to do it my way.”
There was a very long pause, and when Wettig spoke it was in a voice calculated to chill the room by ten degrees. “And that way would be …?”
“As an oprichnikya on security detail, I’ll have to follow the orders of the team leader. He could have me stationed far away from the action when the problems start—and in fact, since he won’t know me, he’ll probably resent me for being foisted off on him and give me the least important assignments. If you want me to protect the Velikaya Knyaghinya, I’ll need much greater freedom of movement.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I was thinking along the lines of a freilina. That would give me personal access to the Knyaghinya, and I couldn’t be arbitrarily banished to some peripheral post. Plus,” Eva added with a shrewd smile, “I’d get to wear prettier clothing. Those ISIS uniforms are crappy.”
“I’m afraid I cannot shift my plans to accommodate your sense of fashion,” Wettig said coldly. “There are good reasons why—”
“You were just condemning Commissar Foundry,” Eva interrupted sharply, “for being too hidebound, too by-the-book, for firing people who showed too much initiative and originality. Do you want to repeat his mistakes? One thing I can definitely promise you—I have a lot more imagination than a brick.”
Tsar Wars: Agents of ISIS, Book 1 Page 4