Endgame

His quiet assessment of their prospects makes me laugh, partly his calm tone, and partly because that day seems so far off. But I’m capable of playing the long game, as the Nicuan will discover.

CHAPTER 2

I’ve consulted with Suni Tarn, the former chancellor of New Terra, previously, and it’s time to bring Loras into the loop; however, it’s best we aren’t associated in public, hence the secrecy. The former politician arrives by private aircar. He has the credits and connections to permit such an extravagance whereas the Nicuan wouldn’t grant me a license to buy a pet. A spring afternoon, though not as warm as it would be on other worlds, the sunlight is faint, and it has a sharpness like crystal as it falls across his face. To make things more interesting, he’s brought his partner, Edun Leviter. The two men step from the vehicle and cross the yard toward the house. At my behest, the door swishes open, permitting them entrance.

To my astonishment, Tarn was already here when I arrived with Vel. He joined Leviter, who amuses himself by playing with the noble houses, causing some to rise and others to topple; for him, it’s a hobby, a sideline to his true trade. As I understand it, he’d gone into partial retirement since he paired up with Tarn, taking less dangerous work for his partner’s peace of mind. When we offered him a chance to do some real kingmaking, he couldn’t sign on fast enough.

Through the windows, the sky overhead is a gauzy blue. Even in the city, air traffic is light since only the elite have access to the sky lanes. Out here, it’s even quieter, as the La’hengrin can’t own their own vehicles; they can only operate them for their masters. This injustice has me plotting with a former politician and…whatever Leviter was. From Tarn’s veiled hints, it was something awesome…and dreadful. I never thought I’d see Tarn again, but our paths crossed my first week on world, and to my surprise, he didn’t shy away as if I had the plague. He holds no grudges, despite my decision to alter grimspace beacons, creating endless complications for him.

Today, we’ll discuss the petitions.

In the foyer, I murmur something polite and shake Tarn’s hand. His partner is tall and slender; he greets me with a firm handshake. Leviter looks clever and sly. He has a narrow face with dark eyes, capped with well-groomed silver hair. A neat goatee frames a thin mouth, and his mien gives away none of his thoughts. From their body language, the two are more than friends though Tarn’s never discussed their relationship. They’re both private men—and tremendously useful. More to the point, they look happy, comfortable even, which means they’ve been together a while.

“Your reputation precedes you,” Leviter says.

I figure he’s giving me fair warning what to expect from him. “Only half of it’s true.”

Leviter flashes a sardonic smile. “That’s more than enough.”

“Is Loras here?” Tarn interjects. “I look forward to meeting him.”

“Yes, the others are in the ready room. This way.” I gesture for them to follow me.

Outside the city, the house is perfectly situated for skullduggery such as this, and it’s large enough to house everyone—Loras, Zeeka, Constance, Vel, and me—without any trouble. Since the property lacks a pool and formal garden, however, most nobles found it too provincial, and Vel got a good bargain; it had been on the market for a while.

“Any luck?” Though it’s not a specific question, I know what Tarn’s asking.

I shake my head. “I didn’t imagine it would be easy, but it’s worse than I expected.”

“Have you cited the legal precedents, as I suggested?” Tarn asks.

“For all the good it does. The Nicuan are entrenched.”

As we walk, Leviter says, “I trust Suni told you I have some ideas of how to start?”

“You’re committed to the cause then?”

Leviter smiles. “I specialize in this sort of thing.”

I decide not to ask; sometimes it’s better not to question your allies. The resistance is a grassroots movement with a few volunteers filling out forms and holding poorly attended rallies. At this point, the Imperials don’t even take us seriously enough to shut them down.

Tarn nods. “It’s true. If anyone can help you get the job done, Edun can.”

“Excellent news. We can use all hands.” This is true enough, as my own efforts have been spectacularly fruitless.

“Ultimately, you know that the civilized requests will go nowhere.” Leviter speaks the words with grave caution, as if he wonders whether I’m the sort of person who believes you can change the world through peaceable means.

I would like that to be true, but it’s not. That’s an idealist’s dream, and I’m too far past my starry-eyed youth to put my faith in fairy tales. Yet we must start somewhere, and I want it on record that we tried lawful measures before we escalated.

“I’d be surprised if anything came of them since the nobles run all the courts on Nicu Quintus.” That’s what the nobles call La’heng.

I step into the ready room, where Loras is waiting. At the moment, Vel’s at flight school, and Zeeka is tinkering upstairs with something that will explode if he’s not careful. It has been delightful exploring the galaxy with the grown-up version of Baby-Z. Before getting to know the Mareq, I never could’ve imagined such a bright and cheerful soul.

Loras stands and offers his hand to the two men. He’s average height, thin, with blond hair and azure eyes. When I first met Loras, he had an unearthly beauty, which made his face disturbing because it made me think he couldn’t care enough about events to be affected by them. In fact, that untouchable aspect came as a result of the shinai-bond, which makes his people reliant on others for their protection. When you’re prevented from having experiences, you look young; it’s natural cause and effect. In the turns I’ve known him, he’s lost that deceptive innocence, and since he took Carvati’s Cure, Loras has changed. The shinai-bond kept his integral savagery at bay, but over the last turn, he’s become fierce and driven, hardening into the steel he’ll need to lead this rebellion.

I remember the promise I made to him, before the Morgut War. At the time, I was trying to apologize for leaving him to die and to explain how much I valued him as a person. In response, he asked the impossible of me: “The only way you can prove that is to set me free.” From there, it went to impossible research and a remedy for the damage done to his people. Though it took turns, we have that cure now. It’s not enough that Loras is a free man; his people deserve the same liberty. This injustice cannot stand.

Shaking off the reverie, I perform the introductions. Afterward, I take a seat; and the others follow suit. Leviter’s dark eyes hold a hardness except when they touch on Suni Tarn. If the man has an Achilles’ heel, it’s sitting beside him, hand on his knee.

After the courtesies, Loras asks skeptically, “Will Jax’s petitions do any good?”

Leviter addresses the question. “So long as you have realistic expectations, it will not prove a useless exercise.”

“Oh?” I arch a brow. This is why Tarn brought his partner in; he’s the idea man, while Tarn has always been the mouthpiece.

“I’ll keep tabs on the situation. See how various nobles react to the emancipation proposal and requests to open centers where the La’hengrin can openly receive the cure.”

Tarn nods. “Then we’ll know whom to approach. Whom to bribe later. There may well be sympathizers who think what’s happening is wrong. They just don’t dare act.”

“Maybe,” I say.

I fetch us all some kaf from the kitchen-mate. The tray comes with all the fixings, but Tarn drinks it straight. Playing hostess, I serve and observe while Loras asks a number of pointed questions regarding their interest and commitment.

After the brief interrogation, Leviter scrutinizes Loras. “You aren’t what I expected.”

To me, it’s clear what he means. Loras has a hard quality you don’t usually see in the sheltered La’heng, who are treated like children and not encouraged to think for themselves. Unlike children—due to the RC-17 disaster—they can’t rebel. Loras has been off world, traveled extensively, and under the care of his last master, he fended for himself quite a bit. His time with Hon left him angry and bitter, but it made him stronger, too, determined to do whatever it takes to free his people. I envy his passion because I’ve only ever felt that way about grimspace, and that seems less worthy.

Loras meets Leviter’s sharkish gaze squarely, then he shrugs. “Does it matter?”

“Not really. I came to La’heng for a new playground. This cause will suffice.”

“What do you mean, ‘playground’?” Loras demands.

Tarn says, “Did you hear about the sex scandal in the governor’s palace? It ended in two suicides and a change of fortune for the noble they appointed to the office.”

Loras nods. “Of course. It was all over the planetary bounce.”

“That was my work,” Leviter says softly, proudly.

Holy shit.

“And you did that for fun?” I ask, trying to understand.

“The old governor was a perverse pig of a man,” Tarn mutters.

I raise a brow. “Do I even want to know?”

Leviter eyes me with cold calm. “That depends. How do you feel about men who prey on girls less than twelve turns, who can’t defend themselves?”

“I hope he’s dead,” Loras snarls.

Tarn smiles. “He was the first suicide.”

Something in that look makes me wonder if Leviter had something to do with it, if it was a murder so convincing that the best Nicuan examiners missed the clues. The man’s flat smile gives nothing away, and I decide not to press. It only matters that the bastard’s dead.

“Who was the other?” Loras asks.

“His procurer.”

That’s an especially satisfying answer.

“Let me guess,” Loras mutters. “He bore the title of protector.”

Tarn rubs his fingers against his brow, as if the system pains him; Leviter sets a hand on Suni’s shoulder to comfort him. Then the former chancellor asks, “How did you know?”

“Because it’s disgusting. And too common.” Loras clenches his jaw, staring at the screen across the room, more for the distraction than from true interest.

The news is on, showing some dignitary proceeding in entourage fashion toward his next entertainment. A La’hengrin girl walks six paces behind the Nicuan noble. She can’t be more than eleven, and she’s loaded down with packages, treated like a beast of burden.

And that’s the least of what you see in the capital on a daily basis. The La’hengrin have no rights on a planet that belongs to them—that we stole from them. The “protection” of the shinai-bond masks so many offenses, so many abuses, that it took a forty-eight-page memorandum to document everything I’ve seen. Not that I expect the court to care.

“You sent in the citizenship appeal today?” Suni asks.