“I don’t care,” Arland snarled. “You will fix it.”
Hardwir raised his chin. “No, I will not. You’re asking me to repair something that makes toxins and releases them into the environment. If this was an engine of war, it would be outlawed.”
“You swore fealty to me personally. You swore fealty to our House.”
“I am an engineer. I won’t betray myself.”
Arland opened his mouth and said one word. “Ryona.”
Hardwir snarled, baring his teeth.
Arland’s face showed no mercy. “If we don’t fix this, we will be discovered, which means this peace summit will fail. All the sacrifices of your sister on the battlefield will be for nothing.”
Hardwir spun away from him, glared at the exposed engine, and turned back. “No.”
Arland touched his crest. “Odalon? I’m sorry to interrupt your vigil. We need you. It’s an emergency.”
A single word emanated from the crest.
A moment later the inn chimed, announcing a visitor at the back of the orchard. I opened the gates of the stables. A single vampire knight walked through the trees. He was of average vampire height, just over six feet, and lean, almost slender. His skin was the darkest of the vampire genotype, a gray with a blue tint, like the contour feathers of a mature blue heron. His hair fell on his shoulders in a cascade of long thin braids. It must’ve been black at some point, but now it was shot through with gray. Vampires didn’t go gray until well into their seventies, but he didn’t look anywhere close to that. He wore long crimson and silver vestments over his armor, but unlike the single robe of a Catholic priest, his vestments were cut into long ribbons, eight inches wide. They flowed as he moved, streaming from his shoulders like an otherworldly mantle. Watching him approach was surreal.
Arland had called on his Battle Chaplain. They must have a spacecraft in orbit.
The chaplain strode into the stables. His face was completely serene, his eyes calm as he surveyed the cruiser, Officer Marais, and finally us.
Arland stepped closer to him and spoke quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Odalon nodded and turned to Hardwir. “Your concerns do you credit.” His voice was soothing and even, a kind of voice that made you relax almost in spite of yourself.
“I won’t do it,” Hardwir said.
“Walk with me,” Odalon said, his voice an invitation.
The engineer followed him out into the orchard. They stopped by one of the apple trees and spoke quietly.
Arland sighed. “All of this could’ve been avoided.”
Lady Isur shrugged. “If not this, then something else. Robart is going to make the negotiations as painful as possible. You knew that going in.”
Hardwir and the Battle Chaplain walked back.
“Even if I agreed to do this, it wouldn’t work,” Hardwir said. “I would need a molecular synthesizer to repair the parts…”
“They are standard issue on most military vessels,” Lady Isur said.
“I wasn’t finished, Marshal,” Hardwir said. “We have a molecular synthesizer on board, but the repairs must match the wear and tear of the engine. For that I must determine the age and the degradation of the current engine, which means I need an age sequencer and specialized software. We don’t have that. We’re a military vessel, not an archaeological exploration ship.”
The female member of Nuan Cee’s clan cleared her throat. We all looked at her.
“Uncle Nuan Cee has one,” she said. “It’s very complicated. Very expensive. Far beyond my understanding.”
George smiled. “Perhaps I can prevail on esteemed Nuan Cee to let us use it.”
“I’m sure he would,” she said. “For the right price.”
“The right price?” Arland growled. “More like a lung and half a heart. I’ve dealt with him before. He’ll squeeze the last—”
“I’ll take care of it,” I told him.
George and I found the esteemed Nuan Cee in his quarters. He was lounging on the plush furniture by a small indoor fountain. George sketched out the situation.
Nuan Cee leaned forward, the glint in his eyes clearly predatory. “The age sequencer is a very delicate piece of equipment. Very expensive. I carry one because people sometimes try to sell me objects and I must ascertain their authenticity. Can you imagine if I sold something that might be a reproduction?” He chortled.
This was going to cost us, I could feel it. “We are in awe of your wisdom,” I said.
“And we count on your generosity,” George said.
“Generosity is a terrible vice,” Nuan Cee said. “But of course, even I am not infallible.” He had us by the throat and he knew it.
I smiled. “You have a vested interest in this summit succeeding. After all, if the war continues, your spaceport on Nexus will be overrun.”
Nuan Cee waved his paws. “We have Turan Adin. Even if the Holy Anocracy and the Hope-Crushing Horde united, we would have nothing to fear.”
Who or what was Turan Adin?
“Still, the war is bad for business. I find myself being inclined to do you this favor.”
I braced myself. There was a but coming.
“But I require a favor in return.”
“Name it,” George said.
“Not from you. From Dina.”
Of course. “How may I help the great Nuan Cee?”
Nuan Cee grinned, showing me small sharp teeth. “I do not know yet. I shall think about it. Normally I would ask for three favors, but out of respect for your parents and the friendship between us, I restrained myself. Do not tell anyone. I do not want to lose face.”
An unspecified favor to Nuan Cee. I would have to be insane to take it. There was no telling what he would ask.
The peace summit had to proceed at all costs. I had no choice. I held out my hand. “Done.”
Nuan Cee laughed, grasped my fingers, and shook. “Delightful. I do so love this Earth custom. Talk to Nuan Sama in the stables. She’s an expert in operating it.”
Of course she was.
We thanked Nuan Cee and made our exit.
“I take it you can’t trust anything they say,” George said.
“It depends. All is fair while they are bargaining, but once they make a deal, they will honor it.” And I had just managed to get myself into a bigger mess.
Five minutes later Hardwir and Nuan Sama walked off toward Nuan’s camouflaged craft in the field. I reached into the car and pulled the SD card out of the dashboard camera.
“The Eye.” I held my hand out. A silver sphere about the size of a lemon rolled out of the new hole in the wall and fell into my palm. I squeezed its sides gently. The sphere clicked, revealing an SD card slot. I slid the card into it and opened my hand. The sphere streaked outside through the open stable door and vanished behind the house.
“What did you tell Hardwir?” Arland asked Odalon.
The Battle Chaplain sighed. “I reminded him that an engineer’s oath also obligated him to give freely of his skill and knowledge for the public good if so required. I cannot think of a greater public good than ending a war that devours lives but brings neither honor, nor glory, nor land. This misery must end, whatever the cost.”
A soft beep echoed through the stables.
“The Marshal of House Vorga has three minutes left.” I hurried back to the front room. The vampires and George chased me. All this running around would be comical if lives and the Gertrude Hunt weren’t at stake.
I walked into the front room. The timer was down to fifteen seconds. The two vampires stood completely still, watching it.
I hoped he was still alive.
The numbers ran down to zero and flashed once. I melted the wall.
The Marshal of House Vorga walked into my front room. He was soaked. Blood dripped from a dozen cuts on his body suit. His right hand gripped his axe. His left carried a three-foot-long monstrous head. It was pale orange, covered with shimmering scales, and looked like something that would be drawn on an antique map with a caption “Here be monsters” underneath.