“Are you kidding me?” Katya asked, eyeballing Alex as if he were mad, possibly dangerous. “My original cartel is tiny, Alex, and my parents had seven kids, just to be sure. Most of the other cartel members did the same. How many positions do you think there are to inherit? I don’t think that the Kiev Oblast has ever had more than thirty members…”
“Why did they all have so many kids?”
“You haven’t noticed yet? Man,” Katya said, whistling. “You really are dense. Being an Operator isn’t exactly hereditary. The trait is passed down from parent to child maybe once in three times, so every family here has some completely normal members. That’s where all the day-to-day personnel come from, the maintenance staff and the lawyers and the bookkeepers and what not.”
“Oh,” Alex admitted, fascinated and ashamed to admit that he had never thought about it.
“You aren’t too observant, are you, Alex? Take Anastasia, for example. She has four siblings, and only her older brother is an Operator, and not much of one at that. My parents figured on the same odds, and they wanted to make sure the family business would be secure. Most people don’t show the potential for activation until they hit puberty, more or less. So, my parents had a bunch. And, as it turned out, six of the seven were Operators, a great many more than they needed.”
“Wow.”
“A man of few words,” Katya observed coolly. “Anyway, that used to mean fights over succession. Back in the old days, we probably would have tried to kill each other off fighting over potential inheritance. Fortunately, the Black Sun has a system to prevent that’s sort of thing. My parents pledged my brother and myself to the Black Sun’s service when we were twelve, freeing them from the need to pay Academy fees or find jobs in the cartel for us, and in return, their own standing was enhanced. It was a good deal for us, too, because we have a better chance at advancement and prestige in the Black Sun. Everyone knows that Anastasia will take over in a few years. All the precognitives swear to it, I hear even her father thinks it’s a foregone conclusion and plans to step aside. All the subsidiary cartels are trying to get on her good side.”
“That does seem to be the usual reaction,” Alex agreed ruefully, poking at his numbed arm. “What about her brother? You said she had an older brother.”
“He put his claim aside. Anastasia had a couple cousins who have tried to challenge her position as heir apparent once. Nobody ever heard anything from the entire family, ever again.”
“Are you supposed to be telling me all this stuff? I’m not part of the Black Sun or anything.”
Katya shrugged, tossing her hair. In the fluorescent light of the examination room, Alex could see that her hair was actually dyed in very fine streaks of red and dark brown, intermingled so that it appeared auburn from a distance. Alex wondered how it could have taken him this long to notice that she was cute, in a quiet way. Something about how Katya carried herself, the lines of her body beneath her uniform — she gave off a general air of indifference, as if she wasn’t concerned with being seen as attractive.
At least, not by him.
“None of this is a secret. Besides, Anastasia told me that you would join eventually, that it was inevitable.”
“I bet she did,” Alex said sourly. “Look, no hard feelings, but I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“Are you sure?” Katya asked, slowly standing up from the plastic chair, her expression hardening. Alex followed her eyes to the open door of the examination room.
“You don’t look like a doctor,” Alex said.
It was true. Grigori Aushev looked nothing at all like a doctor. He was solidly built, but not like Michael; it was as if he had the frame to be tall and skinny, but had managed to pack a bunch of muscle on in defiance of nature’s intentions. He moved gracefully, like a dancer, belying his size. He looked unhappy; however, the face beneath his uncombed dark hair did not seem capable of expressing happiness, so Alex wasn’t sure. He had Slavic features, three days worth of stubble on his cheeks, flat brown eyes that refused to acknowledge the light, a thick accent and a voice so deep that Alex had to lean forward to hear him.
“Alexander Warner? Grigori Aushev. We need to talk.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Alex muttered, his head in his good hand. “Can’t any of you people at least wait until I see the doctor?”
“You’re going to have to explain that to me.”
Anastasia was brushing her teeth at the time, so she did not hear him approach. It wasn’t like Renton to come into her wing this late in the evening, and it wasn’t like Donner and Blitzen to ignore the intrusion. She was surprised; surprised enough that her she poked herself in her gums with her toothbrush, the sting making her eyes water, though she had enough composure to make sure it didn’t show. She was decidedly less than happy with Renton when she turned around and made an interrogative noise, her mouth full of toothpaste.
“Sorry,” Renton said, looking anything but. “But I’m curious. Timor I understand, he has done some personal security courses, and I think he will make a decent bodyguard, even if he is a bit inexperienced. But Katya was trained as an assassin, Ana.”
Anastasia said something that apparently sounded enough like ‘And?’ that he understood.
“I looked up her records,” Renton admitted with a guilty look. She knew from experience that it was entirely for show. Renton didn’t make mistakes, and he didn’t feel bad for anything he did. “She’s formidable in her own way. Six years worth of tradecraft and combat training, and her aptitudes are all solid. Nevertheless, her proficiency is all in wetwork. She is academically, diplomatically and socially unfit for the position; moreover, she does not know the first thing about protecting someone. Katya is nothing more than a killer, not to mention emotionally unstable. So, why her?”
Anastasia closed the door in Renton’s face, ran water in the sink, and then finished brushing. She did not normally bother with mouthwash at night, but she did this time, delaying to make a point. When she finally opened the door again, he was still there, with the same false, friendly smile on his face.
“Did you learn anything else interesting about Katya?” Anastasia demanded, trying to act as if she wasn’t talking to Renton in her nightdress, her hair down in preparation for bed.
“Well, she does manage to look alright, even in the uniform…”
“Do you have to say things like that, Renton? That has nothing to do with why she is here. Katya’s protocol, you fool. Do you think she could, say, kill Alex with it?”
“I could kill Alex with a mean look,” Renton said smugly.
“When he is at full power?” Anastasia asked, her voice dripping with contempt. “When he is using his Black Protocol? I am not so certain, Renton. I am not sure that you could get close enough to him to try. While you are poking around records that you are not supposed to be in, review the footage of what happened in the quarry, when Michael had him activate that protocol for the first time. It was quite frightening.”
“If you say so, but…”
“I assigned her to Alexander as a favor to someone worth doing a favor for, someone who wanted to take out a bit of protection, while hopefully providing him with an educational experience. Katya may be a terrible student, but she excelled in the Program.”
“Oh,” Renton said, nodding. “Then it’s just a coincidence that’s she’s…”
Anastasia glared at him, her best glower, and he trailed off and looked chastised. She was not at all sure he actually was.
“Nothing I do is unintentional, Renton,” she snapped. “I hoped you would have realized that by now. Whatever happens with Katya, I assure you, it will be what I had in mind.”
“That would be easier to accept if you weren’t wearing those,” Renton said, pointing down at her feet. They both paused to look at her plush brown slippers, and then Anastasia looked back up at him, twitching with fury.