“Because Angbard told me to, of course. It wasn’t hard: You don’t know enough about the Clan structure to know who’s likely to be outer family and who’s going to have the talent.” She took a deep breath. “I used to be a bit of a tear-away. When I was eighteen I tried to join the Marine Corps.” She frowned. “I didn’t make the physical, though, and my mother had a screaming fit when she heard about it. She told Angbard to beat some sense into me and he paid for the bodyguard training and karate while I made up my mind what to do next. Back at court, my job—” she swallowed—“if we ever had to bring the hammer down on Alexis, I was tasked with that. Outside the Clan, nobody thinks a lady-in-waiting is a threat, did you know that? But outside the Clan, noble ladies aren’t expected to be able to fight. Anyway, that’s why Angbard stuck me on you as a nursemaid. If you ran into anything you couldn’t handle…”
“Er.” The kettle began to hiss. Miriam shook her head, suffering from information overload. My lady-in-waiting wants to be a marine? “Want some coffee?”
“Yes. Please. Hey, did you know you look just like your Iris when you frown?”
Miriam stopped dead. “You’ve seen her?” she demanded.
“Calm down!” Brilliana held up her hands in surrender. “Yes, I’ve seen her in the past couple of days, and she’s fine. She just needed to go underground for a bit. Same as you, do you understand? I met up with her when you left me in Boston with Paulie and nothing to do. After you shot your mouth off at Angbard, I figured he needed to know what had you so wound up. He takes a keen interest in her well-being, and not just because you threatened to kill him if he didn’t. So of course I went over to see her. In fact, I visited every couple of days, to keep an eye on her. I was there when—” Brill fell silent.
“It was you with the shotgun,” Miriam pushed.
“Actually, no.” Brill looked a little green. “She kept it taped under her chair, the high-backed one in the living room. I just called the Clan cleaners for her afterwards. It was during your first trip over here when she, she had the incident. She phoned your office line, and I was in the office, so I picked up the phone. As you were over here I went around to sort everything out. I found—” She shuddered. “It took a lot of cleaning up. They were Clan security, from the New York office, you know. She was so calm about it.”
“Let me get this straight.” Miriam poured the kettle’s contents into a cafetiere. Her hand was shaking, she noticed distantly. “You’re telling me that Iris gunned down a couple of intruders?”
“Huh?” Brill looked puzzled. “Oh, Iris. That’s right. Like ‘Miriam.’ Listen, she said, ‘it gets to be a habit after the third assassination attempt. Like killing cockroaches.’”
“Urk.” Miriam sat down hard and waited for the conceptual earthquake to stop. She fixed Brill with the stare she kept in reserve for skewering captains of industry she was getting ready to accuse of malfeasance or embezzlement. “Okay, let me get this straight. You are telling me that my mother just happens to keep a sawn-off shotgun under her wheelchair for blowing away SWAT teams, a habit which she somehow concealed from me during my childhood and upbringing while she was a political activist and then the wife of a radical bookstore manager—”
“No!” Brill looked increasingly annoyed. “Don’t you get it? This was the first attempt on her life in over thirty years—”
Miriam’s walkie-talkie bleeped at her urgently.
“We’ve got company.” Miriam eyed the walkie-talkie as if it might explode. My mother is an alien, she thought. Must have been in the Weather Underground or something. But there was no time to worry about that now. “Is that thing loaded?”
“Yes.”
“Right. Then wait here. If anyone comes through the garden door, shoot them. If anyone comes through the other door, it’ll be either me and Olga, or the bad guys. I’ll knock first. Back in a second.”
Miriam dashed for the hall and took the stairs two at a time. “Zone two breach,” the burglar alarm chirped in her ear. Zone two was the east wall of the garden. “Olga?” she called.
“Here.” Olga stepped out onto the landing. Her goggles made her look like a tall, angular insect—a mantis, perhaps.
“Come on. We’ve got visitors.”
“Where do you want to hold out?”
“In the scullery passage and kitchen—the only direct way in is via the front window, and there are fun surprises waiting for them in the morning room and dining room.”
“Right.” Olga hurried downstairs, a machine pistol clutched in one hand.
“Brill,” Miriam called, “we’re coming in.” She remembered to knock.
Once in the kitchen she passed Brill a walkie-talkie with hands-free kit.
“Put this in a pocket and stick the headphone in. Good. Olga? You too.” She hit the transmit button. “Can you both hear me?”
Two nods. “Great. We’ve—”
“Attention. Zone four breach.”
“—That’s the living room. Wait for it, dammit!”
“Attention. Zone five breach.”
“Dining room,” Miriam whispered. “Right. Let’s go.”
“Let’s—what?”
She switched her set to a different channel and pressed the transmit button.
“Attention. Zone four smoke release. Attention. Zone five smoke release. Attention. Zone six smoke release.”
“What—”
“Smoke bombs. Come on, the doors are locked on the hall side and I had the frames reinforced. We’ve got them bottled up, unless they’ve got demolition charges. Here.” Miriam passed Brill a pair of handcuffs. “Let’s go. Remember, we want to get the ringleader alive—but I don’t want either of you to take any risks.”
Miriam led them into the octagonal hallway. There was a muffled thump from the day room door, and a sound of coughing. She waved Olga to one side, then prepared to open the door. “Switch your goggles on,” she said, and killed the lights.
Through the goggles the room was a dark and confusing jumble of shapes. Miriam saw two luminous green shadows moving around her—Brill and Olga. One of them gave her a thumbs-up, while the other of them raised something gun-shaped. “On my mark. I’m going to open the door. Three, two, one, mark.” Miriam unlocked the door and shoved it open. Smoke billowed out, and a coughing figure stumbled into the darkened hall. Olga’s arm rose and fell, resulting in a groan and a crash. “I’m in.” Miriam stepped over the prone figure and into the smoke-filled room. It was chilly inside, and her feet crackled on broken glass. Bastards, she thought angrily. Something vague and greenish glowed in the smoke at the far corner, caught between the grand piano and the curtains. “Drop your gun and lie down!” Miriam shouted, then ducked.
Bang-bang: The thud of bullets hitting masonry behind her was unmistakable. Miriam spat, then knelt and aimed deliberately at the shooter. Can I do this—rage filled her. You tried to kill my mother! She pulled the trigger. There was a cry, and the green patch stretched up then collapsed. She froze, about to shoot again, then straightened up.
“Stop! Police!” Whistles shrilled in the garden. “Attention. Zone three breach.”
“That’s the south wall! What the fuck?” Miriam whispered. She keyed her walkie-talkie. “Status!”
“One down.” Brill, panting heavily. “Olga’s got the guy in the hall on the floor. They tried to shoot me.”
“Listen.” Whistles loud in the garden, flashlight beams just visible through the smoke. “Into the hall! Brill, can you drag the fucker? Get him upright? You take him and I’ll carry Olga.”