The Sixth Discipline

by Carmen Webster Buxton

  ***

  Elena Leong sat in Francesca’s office and tapped her fingertips on the table next to her. “I fail to see what’s so important about your figures for your second harvest,” she said as she pushed the monitor away. “Are you telling me that you won’t meet my order or not?”

  “Not exactly, Elena,” Francesca said.

  “And why couldn’t you come to see me?” Elena demanded. “I’m not accustomed to being ordered to appear. If you’re up to something, Francesca, I’ll see to it that you pay for it.”

  “I’m sure you would.” Francesca started to say more, but a light flashed on her desk, and she touched a switch immediately. Elena’s rugged-looking security guard tensed anxiously, making Eduardo Merced sit up and take notice. Francesca merely smiled at her monitor, nodded and then turned back to her guest.

  “Well, Elena,” she said, relief making her almost giddy, “I think I’d better fill you in on a few things before we go any further.”

  “What things?” Elena said.

  “Check the monitor again,” Francesca said. “You’ll find it much more interesting than crop yields.”

  Elena turned back to the display and frowned to find it completely different. She scanned it rapidly, and then she turned a pale face toward Francesca. “Where did you get this information?”

  “It’s an interesting thing,” Francesca said. “It was impossible to trace where Alyssa D’Persis got her blood money from when I had to start from her end, but once Hans showed his initiative by trying to cheat you on the mine deal, I began to think of him as a likely suspect. When we looked at his end of it, Quinn had no trouble finding out where the money came from.”

  Elena’s face sagged. One eyelid twitched. “What do you want?”

  Francesca forced her features into a smile. “Only justice, Elena. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  The door opened and Marina Quinn came in with a small crowd behind her. Elena’s guard drew his weapon, but Quinn paid no attention to him. She stepped to one side to reveal Hans Leong, his arms bound behind him. A small cut marred one cheek, and his clothes were rumpled, but other than that, Hans looked unhurt. Ran-Del and three Hayden security guards walked behind him.

  The Sansoussy stepped aside and let Quinn shove Hans into an empty chair.

  Elena stood up, her eyes wide with distress. “Hans! Have they hurt you?”

  Hans smiled bitterly. “I suppose they have. What are you going to do about it, Mother?”

  Elena reeled where she stood. “I had nothing to do with this, Hans.” Her hands fluttered helplessly, and then she seemed to come to herself. “Francesca, I demand that you release Hans immediately. If you don’t, Leong-Norwalk will call you to account.”

  Francesca smiled; it was easier this time, because she had a pretty good idea what Elena’s reaction to her news would be. “I already sent Peter Norwalk a copy of that report, Elena. He knows quite well that Hans has been stealing from the cartel for over two seasons. I expect you knew, too, but you were hoping to keep it from Peter.”

  Elena drew herself up to her full height. “I’m the head of Leong-Norwalk.”

  “For now,” Francesca said. “We’ll see if you can hold off Peter now that Hans has given him such good ammunition.”

  Elena’s face lost all expression. She looked at Hans and seemed not to see her son at all, but only a liability.

  Hans must have realized his danger. “So I was a little greedy, Mother,” he said, his tone conciliating. “Why shouldn’t I be? We do all the work, and Norwalk takes too big a share.”

  Elena hesitated, and Francesca decided it was time to play her hidden ace.

  “Sit down, Elena,” she said, taking a small tube out of her pocket. Elena’s guard stepped in front of his employer, but Francesca didn’t move toward the other woman. Instead, she walked to where Hans sat with a Hayden guard on either side of him.

  “I’m going to enjoy watching you die, Hans,” she said, smiling with satisfaction.

  Elena pushed her guard aside. “Francesca!” she screamed.

  Francesca held up the tube for her to see. “It’s nothing lethal, Elena—just a nice, strong dose of nempathenol.”

  Elena stopped in her tracks and looked at her son.

  Hans’ face contorted in fear. “No! No, don’t let her, Mother! She’s lying; she’ll kill me!”

  “Not yet, Hans,” Francesca said, pressing the tube against his neck. “First we want the truth.”

  Hans tried to come out of the chair, but the guards held him down. The hypo hissed, and then Hans stopped struggling and slumped back, his face artificially calm and composed.

  Francesca waited a few seconds and then stepped back and studied Hans. “Now, we can begin. Tell me your full name, Hans.”

  “Hans Anchiro Leong.” Hans' voice was clear but expressionless.

  “Did you pay Alyssa D’Persis to kill my father?” Francesca asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Francesca said. “Why did you want Pop dead?”

  “I thought if I got Stefan out of the way in time, you’d marry Freddie instead of the wild man.”

  “Why did you want me to marry Freddie?”

  “Because I could control Freddie. He’s drugged out of his mind half the time. I could have made him do what I wanted, once I got my foot in the door.”

  “And what would you have done once you had your foot in the door?”

  “Take over.”

  “Take over what? Hayden?”

  “First,” Hans said. “First Hayden and then Leong-Norwalk.”

  “What about your mother?” Francesca asked. “What happens to her if you take over Leong-Norwalk?”

  “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether she tries to fight me. If she does, I’ll have to put her out of the way. If not, I’ll shut her up in the compound. Let her keep Dad company.”

  “How would you put her out of the way?” Francesca asked, as politely as if she were asking about the weather.

  “Best to do it while she was asleep,” Hans said. “Might be able to make it look like Freddie did it, or maybe Dad.”

  “You mean you’d kill her?” Francesca asked, looking at Elena.

  “Yes,” Hans said.

  Elena turned away, her hand across her mouth, her shoulders shaking with anguish. After a second or two, she straightened up and turned to face Francesca. “You can stop now. I’ve heard enough.”

  Francesca handed the other woman the hypospray. “Here,” she said, surprised to hear a trace of compassion creep into her voice. “You can keep this. In case you have any doubts later, you can have it analyzed. There’s absolutely nothing in it but nempathenol.”

  “I believe you,” Elena said, but she took the tube anyway.

  “Do you want to stay, Elena?” Francesca asked.

  Elena glanced at Hans sitting upright in the chair, staring straight ahead. She shuddered and looked away. “No.” She glanced back at Hans for a long moment, and then bit her lip. “No, if you don’t mind, Francesca, I’d rather go now.”

  Francesca nodded. “Marina?”

  Quinn looked at her staff. “Brewster, Geldorf, Nomura, the three of you will escort Baroness Leong to her skimmer and see that she leaves immediately.”

  The three Hayden guards stepped aside to let the Baroness and her own guard precede them. Elena took one long last look at her eldest son. She didn’t speak to him again, but she paused as she walked past. She caressed Hans’ undamaged cheek with one hand for a few seconds and then kissed the top of his head. Her shoulders sagged as she started for the door, but she never once looked back.

  Quinn waited for the door to close, and then turned to Francesca. “What now, Baroness?”

  Francesca went to her desk and took out the beamer she had taken from Nisa. She stood a few meters in front of Hans Leong and pointed it at him.

  Hans sat still and didn’t move. His eyes stared straight ahead, not blind but merely
unresponsive.

  Francesca stood with her arm outstretched. Hans had killed Pop and Hiram and many others. He had killed Ran-Del once, and might try again if got a chance. He deserved to die.

  But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill someone. This wasn’t business. It wasn’t firing someone or ruining a deal, or making money at someone else’s expense.

  It was killing. Taking human life. And she couldn’t do it.