As far as Petra knew, she was the only one in Planning and Doctrine who even knew where Achilles' office was. She had been in it often, but was not impressed by the privilege. She had the freedom of a slave or a captive. Achilles let her intrude on his privacy because he didn't think of her as a person.
One wall of his office was a 2D computer display, now showing a detailed map of the India-Burma border region. As reports came in from troops in the field and from satellites, it was updated by clerks, so Achilles could glance at it any time and see the best available intelligence on placement. Apart from that, the room was spartan. Two chairs-not comfortable ones-a table, a bookcase, and a cot. Petra suspected that somewhere on the base there was a comfortable suite of rooms with a soft bed that was never used. Whatever else Achilles was, he wasn't a hedonist. He never cared much about personal comfort, not that she had seen, anyway.
He didn't take his eyes off the map when she came in-but she was used to that. When he made a point of ignoring her, she took it as his perverse way of paying attention to her. It was when he looked right at her without seeing her that she felt truly invisible.
"The campaign's going very well," said Achilles.
"It's a stupid plan, and the Thai are going to cut it to shreds."
"They had a sort of coup a few minutes ago," said Achilles. "The commander of the Thai military blew up young Suriyawong. Terrible case of professional jealousy, apparently."
Petra tried to keep from showing her sadness at Suriyawong's death and her disgust at Achilles. "You're not seriously expecting me to believe you had nothing to do with it?"
"Well, they're blaming it on Indian spies, of course. But there were no Indian spies involved."
"Not even the Chakri?"
"Definitely not spying for India," said Achilles.
"For whom, then?"
Achilles laughed. "You're so untrusting. My Briseis."
She had to work at staying relaxed, at not betraying anything when he called her that.
"Ah, Pet, you are my Briseis, don't you realize?"
"Not really," said Petra. "Briseis was in somebody else's tent."
"Oh, I have your body with me, and I get the product of your brain, but your heart still belongs to someone else."
"It belongs to me," said Petra.
"It belongs to Hector," said Achilles. "But ... how can I bear to tell you this? Suriyawong was not alone in his office when the building was blown to bits. Another person contributed scraps of flesh and bone and a fine aerosol of blood to the general gore. Unfortunately, this means I can't drag his body around the walls of Troy."
Petra was sick inside. Had he heard her tell Virlomi, "I am Briseis"? And whom was he talking about, saying those things about Hector?
"Just tell me what you're talking about or don't," said Petra.
"Oh, don't tell me you haven't seen those little messages all over the forums," said Achilles. "About Briseis, and Guinevere, and every other tragic romantic heroine who got trapped with some overbearing bunduck."
"What about them?"
"You know who wrote them," said Achilles.
"Do IT'
"I forgot. You refuse to play guessing games. All right, it was Bean, and you knew that."
Petra felt unwanted emotions welling up-she suppressed them. If those messages were posted by Bean, then he had lived through the previous assassination attempt. But that would mean Bean was "HectorVictorious," and Achilles' little allegory meant that Bean was indeed in Bangkok, and Achilles had spotted him and tried again to kill him. He had died along with Suriyawong.
"I'm glad to have you to tell me what I know. It saves my having to actually use my own memory."
"I know it's tearing you up, my poor Pet. The funny thing is, dear Briseis, Bean was just a bonus. It was Suriyawong that we targeted from the start."
"Fine. Congratulations. You're a genius. Whatever it is you want me to say so you'll shut up and let me get some dinner."
Talking rudely to Achilles was the only illusion of freedom Petra was able to retain. She figured it amused him. And she wasn't dumb enough to talk to him that way in front of anyone else.
"You had your heart set on Bean saving you, didn't you?" said Achilles. "That's why when old Graff sent that stupid request for information, you tipped that Virlomi kid to try responding to Bean."
Petra tasted despair. Achilles really did monitor everything.
"Come on, the water fountain's the most obvious place to bug," said Achilles.
"I thought you had important things to do."
"Nothing's more important in my life than you, Pet," said Achilles. "If I could just get you to come into my tent."
"You've kidnapped me twice. You watch me wherever I go. I don't know how I could be farther in your tent than I am."
"In ... my ... tent," said Achilles. "You're still my enemy."
"Oh, I forgot, I'm supposed to be so eager to please my captor that I surrender my volition to you."
"If I wanted that, I'd have you tortured, Pet," said Achilles. "But I don't want you that way."
"How kind of you."
"No, if I can't have you freely with me, as my friend and ally, then I'll just kill you. I'm not into torture."
"After you've used my work."
"But I'm not using your work," said Achilles.
"Oh, that's right. Because Suriyawong is dead, so you don't need to worry now about having any real opposition."
Achilles laughed. "Sure. That's it."
Which meant, of course, that she hadn't understood at all.
"It's easy to fool a person you keep living in a box. I only know what you tell me."
"But I tell you everything," said Achilles, "if only you were bright enough to get it."
Petra closed her eyes. She kept thinking of poor Suriyawong. So serious all the time. He had done his best for his country, and then it was his own commander-in-chief who killed him. Did he know? I hope not.
If she kept thinking of poor Suriyawong, she wouldn't have to think of Bean at all.
"You're not listening," said Achilles.
"Oh, thanks for telling me that," said Petra. "I thought I was."
Achilles was about to say something else, but then he cocked his head. The hearing aid he wore was a radio receiver tied to his desk. Somebody had just started talking to him.
Achilles turned from her to his desk. He typed a few things, read a few things. His face showed no emotion-but that was a real change, since he had been smiling and pleasant until the voice came. Something had gone wrong. Indeed, Petra knew him well enough now that she thought she recognized the signs of anger. Or maybe-she wondered, she hoped-fear.
"They aren't dead," Petra said.
"I'm busy," he said.
She laughed. "That's the message, isn't it? Once again, your assassins have piffed it. If you want a job done right, Achilles, you've got to do it yourself."
He turned away from the desk display and looked her in the eye. "He sent out a message from the barracks of his strike force there in Thailand. Of course the Chakri saw it."
"Not dead," said Petra. "He just keeps beating you."
"Narrowly escaping with his life while my plans are never interfered with at all..."
"Come on, you know he got you booted out of Russia."
Achilles raised his eyebrows. "So you admit you sent a coded message."
"Bean doesn't need coded messages to beat you," she said.