"Plus he could be hostage for his father's good behavior."
Casimir was thoughtful.
"Where would they send him?" Sula asked.
"Anywhere. The Blue Hatches, the Reservoir. Any jail or police station." He frowned. "Certain police stations he could walk right out of."
"Let's hope he gets sent to one of those, then."
"Yes. Let's."
His eyes were troubled.
Good, she thought. There were certain thoughts she wanted him to dwell on for a while.
The next afternoon Sula was in the High City selling cocoa and gathering intelligence. When she returned to Riverside she received a call from Casimir telling her that Julien had been cleared of suspicion by the Legion of Diligence, but that he was remaining in custody as a hostage. "He's in the Reservoir Prison, damn it," Casimir said. "There's no way we can get him out of there."
Calculations shimmered through Sula's mind. "Let me think about that," she said.
There was a moment of silence. Then, "Should we get together and talk?"
There were certain things one shouldn't say over a comm, and they were skating right along the edge.
"Not yet," Sula said. "I've got some research to do first."
She spent some time in public databases, researching the intricacies of the Zanshaa legal system, and more time with back numbers of the _Forensic Register,_ the publication of the Zanshaa Legal Association. More time was spent seeing who in the _Register_ had left Zanshaa with the old government and who hadn't.
Having gathered her data, Sula called Casimir and told him she needed him to set up a meeting with Sergius.
Since Sergius and Casimir had resumed their normal lives after the Legion had released Julien to the prison system, Sula was taken to meet Sergius in his office, on the second floor of an unremarkable building in the heart of Riverside.
She and Casimir passed through an anteroom of flunkies and hulking guards, all of whom she regarded with patrician hauteur, and into Sergius's own office, where Sergius rose to greet her. The office was as unremarkable as the building, with scuffed floors and secondhand furniture and the musty smell of things that had been left lying too long in corners.
People with real power, Sula thought, didn't need to show it.
Sergius took her hand, and though the touch of his big hand was light she could sense the restrained power in his grip.
"What may I do for you, Lady Sula?" he asked.
"Nothing right now," Sula said. "Instead, I hope to be of service to you."
The ruthless eyes flicked to Casimir, who returned an expression meant to convey that he knew. Sergius returned his attention to Sula.
"I appreciate your thinking of me," he said. "Please sit down."
At least, Sula thought, she got to sit down this time. Sergius began to move behind his desk again.
"I believe I can get Julien out of the Reservoir," Sula said.
Sergius stopped, then turned his round head toward her. For the first time she saw emotion in his dark eyes, a glimpse into a black void of deep-seated desire that seemed all the more frightening in a man who normally seemed bereft of emotion.
He wanted his son back. Whether Sergius desired Julien's return because he loved his son, or because his son was a mere possession that some caprice of fate had taken from him, it was clear that the deep, burning hunger was there, a need as clear and primal and rapacious as a hungry panther for his dinner.
Sergius looked at her for a long moment, the need burning in his eyes, and then he recovered himself, straightened, and sat in his shabby chair. By the time he clasped his big pale hands on the desk in front of him, his face had again gone blank.
"That's interesting," he said.
Sula sat deliberately in one of the two seats set before the desk. "I want you to understand that I can't set Julien at liberty," she said. "I believe I can get him transferred to the holding cells at the Riverside police station, or to any other place that suits you. You'll have to get him out of there yourself.
"I'll also provide official identification for Julien that will allow him to move freely, but of course – " Here she looked into the unreadable eyes. "He'll be a fugitive until the Naxids are removed from power."
Sergius held her gaze for a moment, then nodded.
"How may I repay you for this favor?" he asked.
Sula suppressed a smile. She had her list well prepared.
"The secret government maintains a business enterprise used to transfer munitions and the like from one place to another. It's operating under the cover of a food distribution service. Since food distribution is about to become illegal, I'd like to be able to operate this enterprise under your protection, and without the usual fees."
Sula wondered if she was imagining the hint of a smile that played about Sergius Bakshi's lips. "Agreed," he said.
"I would also like ten Naxids to die."
One eyebrow gave a twitch. "Ten?"
"Ten, and of a certain quality. Naxids in the Patrol, the Fleet, or the Legion, all of officer grade; or civil servants with ranks of CN6 or higher. And it must be clear that they've been murdered – they can't seem to die in accidents."
His voice was cold. "You wish this done when?"
"It's not a precondition. The Naxids may die within any reasonable amount of time, after Julien is released."
Sergius seemed to thaw a little. "You will provoke the Naxids into one massacre after another."
She gave a little shrug and tried to match with her own the glossy inhumanity of the other's eyes.
"That is incidental," she said.
Sergius gave an amused, twisted little smile. It was as out of place on his round immobile face as a bray of laughter.
"I'll agree to this," he said. "But I want it clear that I'll pick the targets."
"Certainly," Sula said.
"Anything else?"
"I'd like an extraction team on hand, just in case my project doesn't go well. I don't expect we'll need them, though."
"Extraction team?" Sergius's lips formed the unaccustomed syllables, and then his face relaxed into the face he probably wore at home, a face that was still, in truth, frightening enough.
"I suppose you'd better tell me about this plan of yours," he said.
There were three sets of people who had the authority to move prisoners from one location to another. There was the prison bureaucracy itself, which housed the prisoners, shuttled them to and from interrogations and trials, and made use of their labor in numberless factories and agricultural communes. All those with the authority to sign off on prisoner transfers now consisted entirely of Naxids. Sergius apparently hadn't yet gotten any of these on his payroll, otherwise Julien would have been shifted out of the Reservoir by now.
The second group consisted of Judges of the High Court and of Final Appeal, but all these had been evacuated before the Naxid fleet arrived. The new administration had replaced them all with Naxids.
The third group were Judges of Interrogation. It was not a prestigious posting, and some had been evacuated and some hadn't. Apparently Sergius didn't have any of these in his pocket, either.
Lady Mitsuko Inada was one of those who hadn't left Zanshaa. She lived in Green Park, a quiet, wealthy enclave on the west side of the city. The district had none of the ostentation or flamboyant architecture of the High City – probably none of the houses had more than fifteen or sixteen rooms. Those buildings still occupied by their owners tried to radiate a comfortable air of wealth and security, but were undermined by the untended gardens and shuttered windows of the neighboring buildings, abandoned by their owners who had fled, either to another star system or, failing that, to the country.
Lady Mitsuko's dwelling was on the west side of the Park, the least expensive and least fashionable. It was built of gray fieldstone, with a green alloy roof, an onion dome of greenish copper, and two ennobling sets of chimney pots. The garden in front was mossy and frondy, with ponds and fountains. There were willows in the back, which suggested more ponds there.