Endgame Page 37


Vel lets me lead him on a meandering course toward the former chancellor and his partner, Edun Leviter. The two men are handsome in their black formalwear. Leviter wears touches of silver at his cuffs, and it’s an elegant echo of his hair. By the time I reach them, they’ve gotten rid of the few guests who wanted to make conversation. Leviter has a way with a brow raise and a sardonic look that makes you want to crawl under the nearest rock.

“Good evening,” I say.

Tarn says, “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Since I haven’t met him as Mishani, he’s affirming my suspicion that he knows. Loras must have anticipated our need for aid and provided intel. That’s helpful. Now we can arrange a meeting with no awkward fumbling.

“I understand you have quite an art collection,” Vel replies.

Leviter nods. “Suni is the connoisseur, but I appreciate beautiful things.”

“If it wouldn’t be too forward, perhaps Mishani and I could come to see your Durand? It is rumored to be exquisite.”

“Edun and I will be leaving the city next month for an extended holiday,” Tarn says, and the words sound like a warning. “So it would be best to arrange the appointment soon.”

“The day after tomorrow?” Vel suggests.

“Perfect. Do you have your handheld? What’s the code?” After Vel’s reply, Tarn pulls his out and beams his address to the device.

“I look forward to it,” I say.

“We should mingle.” When we move off, Vel leaves his hand in mine, telling everyone that he won’t tolerate slights to me.

It’s a bold maneuver. Enemies will reveal themselves faster over my unseemly rise. They won’t be able to bear that a female like Mishani has so much power over the new primus. In time, after listening to enough vitriolic whispers, Prince Marcus may come to regret his generosity, but we’re not trying to build a lasting political career, only obtain access to classified information while creating dissent in the Imperial government.

This should work like a charm.

FROM: E_L

TO: [RECIPIENT_ENCRYPTED]

COMM CODE 18.255.91.23.88

Our mutual acquaintance is well, but…not herself. Certain permanent alterations have been made; you should be prepared for that. She’s serving the cause in the best possible capacity at the moment, and due to her work—and that of another changeable individual—we hope to have eyes and ears inside very soon. That will obviously help your efforts in the field. How is the campaign going? I saw in your report that the war effort is going well in the provinces, and that five more villages should be liberated by the end of the month.

Enemy forces are suppressing our ads at every opportunity, but I find ways to get them on the air. The private comm codes are busier than ever, with La’hengrin seeking information on ways to help the resistance. The centurions have come near to taking out our broadcast centers a few times, but we’ve scrambled, moved the equipment just in time.

Numbers are up in terms of recruitment, especially with the last three victories. I’ll forward you a list of casualties and assets once I finish the final assessment. Though it’s a quiet war, and Nicuan does its best to silence all signs of trouble in the provinces, the conflict will not be won via inaction. It’s only a matter of time now. I’ve seen countless wars, and I believe that. The people have caught fire, and they will not stop.

E. L.

P.S. I haven’t been blessed with offspring, but I hear they can be trying. As I understand it, the trouble is worth it.

FROM: M

TO: [RECIPIENT_ENCRYPTED]

COMM CODE [MESSAGE BOUNCING; MULTIPLE RELAYS. ULTIMATE DESTINATION UNKNOWN]

I’m afraid to ask what you mean by “certain permanent alterations.” But I suppose I’ll find out. Great work with the ads. As more people get access to modern comms, they’re helping immeasurably. I had a class of a hundred turn up here. Spent two weeks training them, and now they’re all on assignment in the field. After the recruits leave, it feels so quiet. Empty. I’m not alone in wishing I could get out. The kid’s going stir-crazy; and yeah, he’s totally worth the trouble. I was just venting.

We’re running short on gear. If you could get me locations on supply caches—food, weapons, anything the military may have hidden away—we need it desperately. And a number of the villages in the provinces have been cut off. The measures we took to keep the shipments running have broken down. The Nicuan are now too afraid of hijackings to risk sending the food as they used to. They’d rather let people starve than see the resources end up in enemy hands. And I understand the tactic. It’s classic, as armies march on their stomachs.

I’m looking forward to that report you promised me.

M.

CHAPTER 40

Tarn and Leviter live in a sleek high-rise with excellent security.

For obvious reasons, they don’t require us to pass through the scanners. That would alert the system that Vel and I aren’t who we claim to be. So Tarn comes down to meet us, obviating the need for such measures. I follow him to their private lift; they have the entire top floor of the building, and the view is breathtaking, one of the best I’ve seen on La’heng.

He motions us to silence until we step into the apartment, then says, “You can speak freely here.”

“White-noise generator?” I guess.

He shakes his head. “Edun has hacked all the spyware so it logs a variety of incredibly mundane conversations. Those tasked with keeping watch over us must think we’re the dullest dogs in the world.”

As Tarn mentions him, Leviter comes down the hallway into the common room. The place is furnished in minimalist design; it’s not warm, but it is elegant. It suits both of them, and they appear more relaxed—for obvious reasons—than they were at the prince’s bash. I take a seat before anyone else because I don’t have to be Mishani right now, and it’s a relief.

“You’ve heard from Loras?” I ask.

Leviter nods. “Yes, he gave us a full report of activity in the capital, so we can facilitate. I must admit, this has been unexpectedly entertaining.”

Tarn grins at him. “You already had your hand in when I arrived.” He turns to me with an amused look. “He was bored, you see. Thought it would be diverting to see what trouble he could stir up here.”

“You destabilize governments for fun?” Vel asks.

Leviter shrugs. “Sometimes. If there’s no paying work to be had.”

That makes me wonder what crises he’s perpetuated. “Who have you worked for? Or is that an if I tell you, I’ll have to kill you question.”

Tarn and Leviter exchange a look, then the former chancellor replies, “He worked for me during the war.”

Even Vel seems intrigued. “Is that how you met?”

“Virtually.” Tarn puts a hand on Leviter’s knee. “I couldn’t get involved with him openly while I was chancellor.”

I raise a brow. “Why not?”

“Because I worked for Farwan.” Leviter’s curt response explains everything.

“You were one of their cleanup men, weren’t you?” I know the type.

A frown pulls Leviter’s brows together. “I was the best.”

“So I put you out of work. Sorry about that.” I wonder if that means he hates me. So far, he hasn’t acted like he does.

He shrugs. “I always maintained diversified interests.”

“I appreciate your help.” I change the subject, seeing his reluctance to discuss his past further. “What news do you have?”

Tarn accepts the need to get down to business. “Loras says his mission is going well. He’d like you to be ready to move in two months.”

That seems like a short time to get appointed to the war council and obtain the classified data we need. “Do they have databases?”

Leviter shakes his head. “The nobility here cling to outmoded fashions, and that includes information storage.”

“So we’ll need physical access.” I sigh. “That makes it harder, if it’s even possible at all.”

“It should be, skillfully played.” Leviter sits across from me, all predatory grace. It’s impossible to tell how old he is, but I read no mercy or scruple in that gaze. “You’ve made a good start, shaken the foundations a bit.”

“How would you suggest we proceed?” Vel sounds more like himself, and I’m glad for it. I’ve gotten used to his manners and his courtly, formal air.

Thus invited, Leviter outlines a plan of action that’s Machiavellian and diabolical in its ruthless sophistication. At first, I hesitate. Gaius seems like a decent guy—for a noble—and I hate the thought of screwing his life up worse than it already is. If he’s caught, or if I fail to turn him, it means the end of the whole scheme.

But the resistance needs us.

“All right,” I say at last. “I’ll do it.”

“You’re a true patriot,” Leviter responds with gentle irony.

Because this isn’t my home. These aren’t my people. Yet I fight as if they are.

Vel pushes to his feet. “Let us look at the Durand since that is why we came.”

The painting is exquisite. It’s perfectly centered in the midst of gentle lights that reveal its beauty without damaging the aged masterpiece. It is a young man, alone in a wood. The trees around him are dark and threatening, yet, from the foliage, it seems to be springtime. There’s no reason for the sense of foreboding the artist has managed to convey in subtle shadows. The subject is handsome, certainly, but he also radiates a slightly helpless air. A blanket is spread on the ground before him, with the rudiments of a meal arrayed; there is enough for two. His hand is out, extended to some person beyond the edge of the canvas. From his expression, I assume he’s meeting his lover, but those gathering shadows make me think something terrible is about to happen. That’s the genius of Man, Waiting.

“It’s worth whatever you paid for it,” I say softly.

Leviter chuckles. “That presumes a great deal.”

“Did you steal it?” That would be a hell of a heist. A piece like this would have been in a museum, certainly, or a private collector’s vault.

But the silver fox won’t be drawn. “If you learn only one thing from me, let it be this. Admit nothing.”

“I’ll get a message to you if I hear from Loras again,” Tarn puts in. “He feels it’s best if I serve as intermediary. Less risk.”

He’s right. A meeting with Tarn and Leviter can be written off as mutual art appreciation. There’s no stigma. But if anyone catches us with the head of the resistance, it’s over. And despite Nicuan antipathy to technology, they still monitor the wireless bounce. Better not to take the chance.

I never thought I’d be reliant on Tarn in this fashion.

Vel and I head out, becoming Mishani and Flavius as soon as the lift touches the ground. His private car—with driver—returns us home. I don’t speak, turning over the meeting in my head. Reluctance plucks at me with nervous fingers; Leviter’s plan for Gaius is further than I intended to go.

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