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  An artificial in a tuxedo led them to a table just below where Zalor and the doctor were standing. Baron Revenant looked down, gave Cylus a nod, and the women he was with a scowl. Once again, Cylus had to wonder what was so displeasing about them to the Big Bad Wolf. First the matching flowers at the engagement dinner; now this.

  Baron Olivaar and his wife, Helena, were seated at the table adjacent to Cylus’ own. The fat man gave a wink to him, but much to Cylus’ relief, did not attempt further conversation. Helena did not even offer him that much.

  Pasqualina chose the seat furthest from her parents, putting Cylus and Sophi between her and them at the table.

  “My fellow barons and baronesses,” Zalor said once they were all seated. “Today I lead us into a new era. This cruise is a game changer, not just because it has seen the joining of House Keltan and House Olivaar, but because of what it will see in just a few minutes. We will soon be arriving at our destination, an artifact of a long forgotten civilization brought back to life by the man at my side.”

  Cylus noted a few confused looks among the barons. He was curious as to how Zalor was going to present his grand vision, but even more so to see this “Cephalon Sphere” for himself. It had wonderful potential, and he supposed it would be a great thing for the Confederation if only he and Sophi could eliminate their enemy before the technology was mastered. He hoped they still had time. The thought of Zalor with that much power—

  Zalor continued his speech.

  Sophi pulled Cylus towards her with a firm hand on his arm and whispered loud enough that he could follow it, but soft enough that Pasqualina seemed not to be able to hear her despite being just on Cylus’ other side.

  “You saw how father looked at us?”

  He furled his brow. Anger swelled in him like a sudden tide. “Yes. What is it with you two? First the flowers and now this? And how was I supposed to know that Pasqualina was taking offense to not being invited over?”

  Sophi’s smile was infuriating. “Cy, you should have thought to do that.”

  “What? With you coming over every—”

  “You have a lot to learn about women, Cy, but don’t worry about that right now. Look at Pas, she’s not worried.”

  “Pas?” He wondered when Sophi had started calling her that. He looked.

  As Sophi said, she seemed unperturbed, as though her earlier explosion in his suite had no impact on her. She caught him looking, met his eyes, and gave him a mischievous smile.

  He turned back to Sophi. “She was furious just fifteen minutes ago. Could you explain that to me? What’s going on? I thought she was angry with me.”

  “No doubt she is a little. She’s wanted you for a long time, Cy. Since you were both kids.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “We’ve been talking. What do you think we’ve been doing spending all that time together, Cy?”

  “I assumed it had something to do with the plan. Didn’t it?” he asked a little too loud.

  “I’m sorry, Baron Keltan. Am I interrupting you?” Zalor asked. His stare was like an icy needle in Cylus’ chest.

  His mouth went dry. “I’m sorry, Baron Revenant. Please continue.”

  Zalor held his gaze for a few moments longer, then went back to his speech.

  Cylus sat panting through his nostrils feeling the heat rise to his ears. First these games, and now Sophi embarrassed him in front of the whole room. This was exactly why he avoided spending time with his fellow barons. There were too many rules of etiquette, too much to worry about and none of them were worth the trouble.

  “In short, the new technologies that Cosmos Corp are developing will bring us all closer together, and make us stronger than ever before. It will bring us victory and usher in a new golden age. With that, I ask that you watch the nearest window as you enjoy your breakfasts.” Zalor finished, and with one, final, icy stare at Cylus’ table, headed off with the doctor in tow.

  “Don’t embarrass me like that,” he said once Zalor was out of ear-shot.

  Sophi laughed. “Don’t embarrass yourself. It’s not becoming to someone of your station.”

  “What?” His anger was stoked to higher temperatures.

  “If you want to know why Zalor is giving us these looks, Cy, I suggest you look at your bride to be.” She nudged him in the ribs for emphasis.

  He looked over at Pasqualina. She returned his gaze briefly, but hid her face behind a glass of water.

  “Look,” Sophi said again, pushing his head back towards his fiancée.

  “What?”

  He heard Sophi sigh behind him. “Her dress.”

  He looked. It was identical to Sophi’s, as he’d noted before, except it was blue and silver.

  Blue and silver—Cronus colors.

  His head whipped around to face Sophi so fast he felt dizzy for half a second.

  “What?” All anger was gone from his voice.

  He gazed at Sophi in confusion, and then it dawned on him that Sophi was wearing purple and red—Olivaar colors.

  “You two are wearing each other’s colors.” He felt Pasqualina’s hand on his thigh and turned to see she’d put her glass down. She had a smile on her face.

  “He finally got there.”

  “Almost,” Sophi returned. “Now, remember the message I got earlier? I told you that I’d found Brudah’s daughter, but I’d suspected who she was for a long time. I’ve been looking for her since that conversation at dinner when Yoji died.”

  He flinched at how casually she mentioned Baron Mitsugawa’s death, but he was too busy processing what she was saying to really react.

  “Brudah Altair once went to school with Aurora Cronus, and both of them once met a young Baron Revenant at the same society dance. The details don’t really matter, but cad that he was, he later fathered a daughter by each of them. I guess nothing has ever been enough for father. He was officially married by then, to Aurora, so he had to publically disavow any knowledge of Brudah’s child or face ridicule and a loss of status in the Barony.” Sophi’s eyes were alight. Cylus hadn’t seen her this excited in years.

  “He disowned her, and forced Brudah to hide the birth, but apparently couldn’t quite bring himself to go the extra step and have his own blood killed to ensure silence. Instead, he forced Brudah to give the child to his favorite crony, who just happened to be married to his cousin. Aurora found out anyway, however, and that’s why he divorced her.”

  “Wait, I thought they divorced over a political issue,” Cylus said. That’s what was in the official record, at least.

  “Publically, that was the reason. They needed an excuse, and their known political differences served as a convenient cover,” Sophi continued.

  “But Aurora has no reason to hide this. She would jump at the chance to embarrass Zalor,” he said.

  “You really don’t know women,” Pasqualina interjected from his other side.

  Sophi nodded in agreement. “It would be twice as humiliating for her. The beautiful Cronus daughters were said to be able to have any man they pleased back when they were young. To admit she’d lost out to plain-faced Brudah Altair, it would be more of a blow to her ego than it would be to Zalor’s reputation. The silly girl kept her mouth shut, and gave up the advantage.”

  He shuddered. “So, what you’re saying is that you and Pasqualina are sisters? What about her looks, the hair, her eyes—Zalor has brown hair and blue eyes, Brudah doesn’t look anything like her. How can Pasqualina wind up with Olivaar features?”

  “Genetic manipulation,” Pasqualina said. “It was done when I was a baby to help conceal whose daughter I was. My whole life has been a lie, Cylus. Remember when I told you I was ready to have someone true in my life, well, I’ve been ready for a long time. I found out who I was when I went through mother’s files on Ganymede. She always insisted she see me once every two years at least, and I grew up thinking how odd it was my parents made me go see this strange old baroness until I finally saw the truth for mysel
f.”

  “Is that why you helped Hephestia’s spies?” Cylus whispered. He glanced nervously at the Olivaar table, but his uncle and step-aunt were busy in some heated discussion while he eyed the area where the servants were assembling with the food.

  “That, and other reasons. I had no idea I had a sister until Sophi told me back at your tower. Isn’t this wonderful, Cy? We’re not really cousins? You can marry me now without any guilt. I’m on your side, ready to help you bring down the Wolf.”

  There was so much joy in Pasqualina’s voice it was hard for Cylus to turn around and glare at Sophi. It was not the plan for him to marry Pasqualina, and this revelation changed nothing about that. He was supposed to be with Sophi when all of this was over, and it seemed that though Sophi had let Pasqualina in on their plot, she’d neglected to tell her that little detail. It made Cylus wonder which one of them she was really keeping in the dark.

  Sophi returned his stare with a self-satisfied smile.

  He felt his anger return.

  A gasp drew his attention away. His uncle, who was just getting served a plate of steaming hot eggs, was half out of his seat and staring forward like a stunned ape. Cylus followed his gaze to the polyglass window, and scanned the stars. It took him a moment, but he saw it too.

  One of the stars was growing bigger as they approached it. The rotation of the habitat ring meant it was only visible for a few minutes at a time, but with each rotation it grew bigger until it was large enough to be seen no matter what position the ring was in.

  It was spherical in form, and as large as a planet, though that was impossible to judge given that there existed nothing visible nearby to compare it to. It had a dull, silvery surface like unpolished metal, and there was something wrong with its edges as though it was doing something strange to the space around it. Every time he tried to look at its arching surface, it seemed to blur and dance as though the whole massive object were in a lake and Cylus was trying to gaze at a ball on the bottom. Even the starlight around the object seemed to ripple and jump about.

  “What is that?” Pasqualina asked in half a whisper.

  “A Cephalon Sphere.” He knew the words without truly grasping the nature of what he was staring at.

  “Barons and baronesses,” Zalor’s voice sounded from behind him. “I give you the future.”

  Cylus had half-turned to look at Baron Revenant when it happened.

  There was a wrenching sensation, as though some imaginary giant had just pulled him off of a piece of sticky paper with a clean jerk. Things seemed to stand still around him. His breath caught in his throat, though he did not want for air. Serving artificials were frozen like statues mid-step. A piece of drool hanging off of his uncle’s chin hovered in the air above the man’s high, red collar. Then, just as suddenly, things moved again. Air rushed back into his lungs, drinks resumed being poured, and the drool fell to stain his uncle’s chest.

  This time, even Sophi gasped along with the rest of the crowd. Cylus turned back to the window.

  Instead of the massive strange alien device hanging in space beyond the ship, the blue arc of Kosfanter’s atmosphere now filled half the windows on the observation deck.

  What they had spent sixty days traveling, they’d jumped over in a second.

  Cylus felt his heart sink. They were too late.

  The universe was already in Zalor’s grasp.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Queen Gaia Luxury Liner, Matre’s Glory System

  41:2:9 CST (J2400:3132)

  “You have a message” written in neon orange letters popped up in Cygni’s vision. She traced her gaze about the wooden ceiling of her room in the Nyangari suite. The words followed, always appearing in the center of her vision with an annoying persistence. She could just ignore the message, delete it, but she might miss something important. A girl in her position couldn’t afford that. She sighed and willed her implant to accept. The ghostly image of her editor’s head and shoulders materialized hovering over her in the faintly almond scented air of the dim room. All three of his huge yellow eyes were fixed on her. He stretched his small jaw forward, pulling the strings of his external larynx tight.

  Alone in the bed, she braced herself. Shkur was on duty protecting the ambassador while he attended some demonstration function on the ship’s observation deck. It was just as well, she didn’t want him getting upset by any reaction she might have to her boss’ message. He was a great partner in general, but like all Nyangari she knew, he had a bit of an overprotective streak that could be annoying.

  “Your last progress report was disappointing, Cygni. I do not believe that you have achieved nothing of note in sixty-days. Pawqlan has already scooped several of our competitors, and revealed it was a condition of Baron Keltan’s impending marriage to Heiress Olivaar that caused the defection. You might remember being assigned that particular task.”

  Cygni rolled her eyes. That had been her original assignment after she blew the Mitsugawa murder story, true, but she was on to something much bigger now. It was Ax’Xoa’s loss for not being able to see that. The silver lining around this little speech was that being sixty astronomical units away from Kosfanter meant that he was more likely to send her message packets, like this one, rather than try live communication. Having to wait over eight hours between responses was just not conducive to dressing someone down.

  “With your work already completed by Pawqlan, I suppose it is best for you to continue to try and redeem yourself with the so-called-murder investigation. Also, I do find this lead on Baroness Altair interesting. She has been quite reclusive in the last decade, almost as much as Baron Keltan. I agree with you, that there is something going on between them. You are due back in sixty days. Make sure you have something when the Queen Gaia arrives.” Ax’xoa’s image faded as the message came to an end.

  What did he think she was doing out here, having a relaxing vacation? The truth of the matter was that the last sixty days had been incredibly frustrating. The spy-grains she paid so much for weren’t transmitting, and she hadn’t been able to sneak back into the Altair suite to find out why. The ones she hadn’t yet deployed worked fine, so either the ones she planted were duds or that suite had some kind of electromagnetic shielding. Worse, the artificial of Baron Keltan’s, Ben, was staunchly refusing to allow her near him or Heiress Cronus for an interview—Baroness Cronus, she corrected herself. Pawqlan had let her know the albino heiress was now in charge of an Isinari barony called “The Elthroa Staffing Corporation.” Cygni was sure there was a story in that, a good one, but Ben had managed to counter every trick, both physical and electronic, she knew to get access to information. She’d never encountered such resistance from an artificial before. His AI must be some marvel of technology.

  She pounded the soft mattress beneath her with a clenched fist. She should’ve traced the new Baron Mitsugawa instead of pursuing Baron Keltan into this waste of time. There was no telling where Baron Mitsugawa might be by the time the Queen Gaia got back to Kosfanter. The official word from the Shiragawa Zaibatsu’s PR department was that he would be indisposed on Taiumikai to tend to his father’s funeral once he arrived and for the foreseeable future. She hoped that meant cultural obligations would hold him there long enough for her to get to him. It would take her about—she consulted her cerebral computer—130 days to reach Taiumikai from Kosfanter by public transportation, and that was provided she could find an FTL ship going directly there with a shuttle still in dock when she got back to Ikuzlu City. Without the Spur backing her, and she doubted it would, she didn’t have the means to book passage on a faster FTL ship. She would probably be too late to catch the baron on his home world given the travel times involved if he wasn’t going to be staying there. Could she trust the PR statement? It was a long way to travel without confirmation, and she wasn’t going to get that.

  She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The smart-fibers in her navy-blue jumper automatically smoothed out the wrinkles i
ncurred from laying on the bed while she ran her fingers through her raven hair. She had to stop thinking this way. Defeat was like an ex-lover, and tasting it now for the first time in so long, carried with it nearly the same pang of regret she got when she ran into someone she used to share her bed with. She hated it.

  “Incoming transmission,” flashed before her eyes. She noted it was a live transmission from Pawqlan and let the notice blink three times before accepting.

  “Cygni, where are you?” Her colleague’s voice sounded in her thoughts.

  My room, why?

  “Get dressed and head to Conference Room Three right now.” Pawqlan sounded anxious, even for her uptight nature.

  What’s happening?

  “Dress well, if you can. Baron Revenant asked for you specifically. He says we’re to observe something and then wait for him to arrive. Get your Solan butt in gear, now.”

  Cygni licked her lips, feeling her heart pound in her chest for several moments before she responded. I’m on my way.

  Baron Revenant asked for her specifically? The mention of his name had her body trembling with equal parts fear and excitement. He was the wealthiest, most powerful baron in the Confederation. Though he was rumored to be a ruthless, murderous sociopath, it didn’t diminish his allure one bit. Most successful people, and barons in particular, had at least some of those traits. Baron Revenant just had them in spades—and it showed.

  With her skin flushed, she leapt to her feet and grabbed her yellow bolero jacket from off the bed. Shrugging into it, she directed the smart fibers to change colors so that by the time she was in the hallway heading for the lift, she was wearing a black jumper with a silver jacket and boots—Revenant colors.

  The ship’s computer led her to conference room three through her implant. It was on the same level as the ballroom where the engagement party was held. A long walk from the lift, she was on the verge of a headache from the potpourri smell in the air by the time she arrived. She wondered how it was the rich liked such stinky things. She would have thought, with all that money, they could’ve afforded something better smelling. Poor Shkur must go nuts every time he had to cross a hallway on this ship.