“I had proof he’d stolen the necklace. If they traced the comms, I’d show them the proof about the necklace and say Adam had a history of selling things off.” His mouth twisted down. “I didn’t think it through. I was angry. There was this massive fuss about the missing comms, but they assumed I’d been at work all day. I was ignored.”
“And you’ve been jumping at Redmond soldiers ever since?”
He nodded.
And no wonder. “What else did they say when they delivered the comms?” Radko asked.
“They didn’t say anything. Except about how important and confidential it was. And how time was so short.”
She thought he was telling the truth. “And Adam. Where is he?”
He shook his head and raised his hands when she instinctively raised her blaster. “I truly don’t know. It’s supposed to be secret.”
Han stepped forward to stand beside Radko. “We’ve spent all this time hearing your story, and you haven’t got anything for us. Not even a report.”
“I don’t know for sure, but I can guess where Adam is. If you’ll listen before you shoot me.”
“Talk faster, then,” Han said.
“Adam was late.” EightFields rushed the words out. “This function we both had to attend. It was a major event. Everyone in the Founding Families had to attend. You disgrace your family if you don’t. We never miss it. But Adam nearly did this year. Because his lab was under lockdown.”
If a lab was under lockdown, it was usually for security reasons or because something viral had gotten out of hand. Either way, the company wasn’t going to publicize it. “We need more than that,” Radko said.
“But Adam is also a name-dropper.” EightFields watched Radko’s blaster warily. “When he dines with someone important, you know about it. And he dined with the Factor of the Lesser Gods three times in the two weeks before he came home.” He paused expectantly.
“Connect it for us,” Radko said. “The Factor of the Lesser Gods isn’t from Redmond.” In fact, he was supposed to be turning against Redmond by marrying Michelle.
“The lockdown,” EightFields said. “They had a lockdown at the Factor’s palace on Aeolus. It made the news. The Factor had some important visitor. So important they locked down the whole palace and the streets surrounding it. No one could get in or out for two days. Timewise, it matches perfectly.”
Van Heel ran checks. “TwoPaths does have a lab there. Although it’s listed more as a store nowadays. It is close to the palace. Right against the walls, actually.”
“Yes, but why put a comilitary operation on a world that’s not your own? And why leave it there if the two worlds are close to being enemies right now?”
“Maybe that’s what the twelve is about?” Han suggested. “Their plans to move.”
Radko shook her head. “That’s something different.” She watched EightFields carefully. She thought he was telling the truth. Otherwise, he was an accomplished liar. “Anything else you want to tell us?”
“No.”
She looked at the others. Han shook his head. Chaudry didn’t respond. Van Heel shrugged.
“Take us down somewhere safe,” Radko ordered van Heel. “We’ll drop him off.”
CHAPTER TEN: EAN LAMBERT
Admiral Orsaya was delighted to be officially placed in charge of security for linesmen. She came out personally to reassure Ean he was in safe hands.
“I know that.” Ean was on Confluence Station. The lines would look after him.
A pleased hum echoed through the station lines. “We’ll look after you well.”
“Thank you. I know you will.”
Sale was less happy. “We’re perfectly capable of looking after you. This business with Radko had better not take long.”
Vega had called Sale as Ean had arrived back on Confluence Station, told her about Orsaya, then asked her to come in to the Lancastrian Princess after she finished work that day. Ean eavesdropped unashamedly on the call. Sale had just clicked off when Ean and Bhaksir rejoined them. Bhaksir had shrugged, and Sale had looked at her comms but hadn’t asked anything else.
“You’re coming out to the Confluence with us today, Ean.” Sale looked at Orsaya, who’d smiled, and said nothing.
It had been a long night. Ean tried to doze while Sale and Bhaksir talked quietly off to one side, and everyone else pretended things were fine.
“No idea,” Bhaksir said. “But everyone on board the Lancastrian Princess is on edge. Vega nearly bit my head off when I asked. It doesn’t help that it’s happened at the same time as this business with the Worlds of the Lesser Gods. That’s all anyone’s talking about on ship.”
“I imagine not.” Sale glanced over at Ean. He thought she was going to come and talk to him after that, so he looked away.
The Confluence welcomed them. It was the only thing that seemed happy today.
“We’ll have crew for you soon,” Ean said.
“Crew is good. Lonely.”
Ean knew that as well as the ships did. “I know. We’re doing what we can.” He was trying hard not to promise something he couldn’t deliver, but if the New Alliance didn’t make up its mind soon, he was going to assign linesmen himself.
“We choose, too.”
He hoped he hadn’t committed to choosing linesmen without the council’s agreement. “I’m going for a walk,” he told Sale. He needed to distract himself and the ship.
Bhaksir looked at Ru Li and Hana.
“On it,” Ru Li said, and the two of them trailed after Ean.
“You realize,” Ru Li said to Hana, “Bhaksir never made Radko take anyone with her. That means she thinks we’re half the person Radko is.”
“You are half the person Radko is,” Ean said.
“Oh, that’s mean, Ean. Especially when I know you really mean it.”
He had meant it. Ean bit his lip. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” Don’t compound your mistakes, Radko would say. Or would that be Sale? He took a deep breath. “You know what I mean.”
Luckily for him, they did.
He stopped at one of the large crew rooms. On board the Confluence, there were always things to do. Except he couldn’t think straight today.
Protection. That would be a good start. Ean and the ships had to be able to protect their people. Like he had before, with Radko, throwing the enemy across the room but a controlled throwing.
“I’m going to practice with line eight,” he told the ship.
“Practice?”
What had the aliens done when they wanted to practice? Or were the lines so natural to them they didn’t need to? He searched for another word to explain. “Work with,” he said finally. “Ru Li, Hana, you need to stay behind me.”
“What are you doing?”
“Working with line eight.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Hana said, as they both moved in behind him. “Isn’t line eight the one that throws people around?”
“That’s why I have to learn to use it.”
How did you work with something you couldn’t see, you could only hear? You listened to them. And you tried to explain what you were doing because though you heard music, the general consensus seemed to be that it wasn’t just music, it was your thoughts that conveyed the message.
“I want to build a field to protect us.”