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  “Sanul, where did you get that?” Boa asked, cocking her dark eyebrow.

  “Get… what?” His cheer faded.

  “You don’t have to answer her,” Cygni said under her breath. She was worried that he sneaked out and exposed their hiding place. In truth she should be angry about it, but if Boa was opposed to him having the phytrophor then she was for it.

  “He found a tunnel exit in Volgoth Town,” Ila stated. She looked at nium in surprise. Either Ila didn’t get what was going on between them or niu was more dedicated to Boa than she realized.

  “So, you went out and bought the drugs, then came back here,” Boa said. “Were you followed?”

  “No one saw me.” His hooves scraped against the stone floor.

  A chill went down Cygni’s back. If the Praetor found them it would all be over. When she went to rescue them from the attack on the Biodome, Premier Dorsky told her to keep a low profile. It was her intent, but she hadn’t figured that the Praetor would execute Lalande. The ensuing confrontation made Dorsky livid. He rescinded his protection of her team, stating he could only protect her and Giselle since they were sworn Umbrals. There was no way to take the rest of them to Solahab now that Boa, Ila, and Sanul were wanted criminals. Worse, she knew the moment they became a liability Dorsky would hand them over to Praetor Augusta himself. She was determined not to let that happen. They had to be careful, and that made what Sanul did particularly egregious—

  So why was Boa asking him about it? She was here the whole time—unless she went out herself. What was her game, and why was she playing it? She got that Boa blamed her for her mother’s death, but didn’t she realize they were all in this together?

  “I’m sure I wasn’t followed. Don’t freak out.” Sanul’s eyes flickered between her and Boa.

  “I’m not going to freak out,” Cygni said with a sigh. “Sanul, you have to understand your position here. I can’t protect you if you expose yourself.”

  He snorted, his big nostrils flaring. “Heh, you said—”

  “Sanul!” She felt the muscles around her eye twitch.

  He held up his four-fingered hands. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, boss. I know it’s serious, but Volgoth Town is safe. No way in the nine magma flows will a Volgoth betray us. My people don’t get on well with the authorities. It’ll be fine, I promish.”

  She scowled. The slurring on the last word meant whatever phytrophor was kicking in. She gritted her teeth, uncertain if her anger was because he risked their lives, or Boa on her case, or if he was getting high when she wasn’t.

  “Okaaay,” he said after a few moments of quiet. “I won’t do it againsh… Just make sure this keepsh comingsph…”

  She nodded. “Okay. No more taking chances. I know this isn’t ideal, but until this is all over, we can’t afford it.”

  “Okay.” He nodded, the spittle foamed green around his lips. “Oh, I almosht forgoth.” He reached into his pocket and produced a small bag about half the size of her fist and held it up for her. It was translucent green, and within she could see a darker-green mash.

  Her mouth watered. Her hand snatched the bag from him before she realized what she was doing.

  “Happy?” he asked.

  “I told you not to—” Ila cut niurself off and glared.

  “And you think you lead us.” Boa laughed, turned, and sat down in her corner of the room.

  Cygni pressed her lips together. She didn’t like the smug look on the woman’s face. She glanced around at the others and felt herself blush.

  Giselle shrugged.

  Cygni took in a deep breath and stuffed the baggie into her pocket. It was too late now to hide what she was.

  “Thank you,” she muttered.

  Sanul raised both thumbs on one of his hands to her in a Volgoth imitation of the human gesture.

  Still feeling the heat on her cheeks, she focused her attention on the chronometer in her UI. There should be just enough time to head back and prepare before the meeting. She probably wouldn’t have time to take more than a little kalkoa beforehand.

  “How are you on supplies? Do you need anything?” she asked.

  “We have enough food and water for another few days,” Ila answered.

  “I’ll bring more on my next trip.” She looked at Boa again and sighed before returning her attention to the others. “Again, I’m sorry about all of this. Hang in there. I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can manage it.”

  “That’s doubtful.” Boa looked right at her. “We’ll get out of here, but not because of you.”

  She gritted her teeth.

  “It will end one day,” Ila said with a warm smile.

  She tried to read past it, to see if the Isinari was judging her, but she couldn’t. Ila and Sanul were friends for years before they met her. It wouldn’t make sense for nium to be judgmental, but she still felt the need to be embarrassed.

  “It will. I promise.” She nodded at length and gestured to Giselle that it was time to go. Motion in the corner of her vision gave her pause.

  “Cygni,” Boa’s voice cracked.

  She turned to face a cold stare.

  “My brother liked to go to the Galactic Bazaar from time to time. He went more often when his tramp was in town. Maybe you can do something right for once.”

  She licked her lips, shocked that Boa dropped her wounded animal act long enough to help her with Biren. “His tramp?”

  “Pasqualina Olivaar,” Boa responded. “A skank, like you, only less drugged up.”

  She winced.

  “You might find him there now, unless you dawdle and screw it all up like you do everything else.” Boa rolled her eyes.

  Part of her wanted to go and hug the woman, but the gleam in those eyes paralyzed her. She wanted to return the insults in kind, but she might lose Boa forever, so held her tongue.

  “I saw it in her mind. There’s a Gaian hideout in the bazaar,” Giselle said. “If you bring her brother back here it will be a good first step toward healing your relationship. She needs her family.”

  “Okay, I’ll go see and bring him back. I will.” Cygni nodded.

  “Sure you will…” Boa muttered.

  She sighed, wanting to check right away. If he was there—

  “We don’t have time. I have to get changed, and we need to scout the venue out before we go with Dorsky tonight.”

  “But—”

  “We’ll check it after.”

  She stared at Giselle, biting her lip. The woman was right. She was exploding with the desire to run out and find him, to prove Boa wrong, but it would have to wait.

  “Thank you.” She forced the words of etiquette from her mouth. Gloating would come after she got back with Biren.

  The woman didn’t move. She as might as well have been a statue of herself.

  “I could go—” Sanul started, but she silenced him with a glare. “Sorry.”

  After, she thought, already going over words of apology to Biren in her head. “Giselle, let’s go get this thing over with.”

  Her pale-haired friend nodded and cranked open the door.

  Chapter Six

  The Hestia Rupes, Venus, Sol System

  J2400:3200

  Terror seized his heart.

  Ichiro gasped and opened his eyes to the fresco adorning the ceiling of LeRoux’s guest bedroom. Buried in the red silk sheets, Ichiro stared at the depiction of a bearded creature with three eyes in ornate armor carrying a long, jade staff. Rays of golden light framed its body, and a prehensile tail rose up behind him poised like a snake ready to strike. The figure was known to him, Son Gokū[3], the monkey king of legend and an immortal god of transformations and immense strength. The longer he stared into the monkey king’s golden eyes the more he felt like he was sinking inside himself. With a gasp he pulled his gaze from the ceiling and shook his head to clear it of the strange feeling.

  Tengu shifted on the bed beside him. When he turned to look their noses touched. The cerberai opened
his eyes and they blazed like emeralds from the burning light within. Ichiro found he could not look away, and for just a moment he imagined it was Setha lying beside him. All too quickly the feeling faded from his mind.

  “Good morning, Tengu-san.” He sighed.

  Tengu emitted a sound of disapproval.

  For what seemed like the millionth time he felt he should he be out looking for Setha instead of here on Venus. His people needed him, but what if she was in danger? What if she died because he didn’t find her in time? No, he refused to believe that. She was resourceful, intelligent, and powerful. She must have somehow survived as he did. Perhaps she was at another temple near Phykor? He knew not all of them were inhabited. She could be marooned, alone on some forgotten world somewhere, waiting for him to find her…

  The cerberai leaned back and licked his nose. The big, green eyes fixed on his and a sense of calm flowed over him.

  “I should be out there looking, but I can’t abandon my people.” He grimaced. “Am I doing the right thing?”

  Tengu wagged his tail once.

  He leaned forward and planted a kiss on Tengu’s cold nose before rolling out of bed. He pinged Tanaka’s CPAd and waited for his Chief of Special Projects, and the present captain of the Kageryū-maru, to respond. Behind him, Tengu whimpered.

  The room was decorated in finery, with flour de leis wallpaper and gold-leaf lining almost every edge, yet was fairly modest in its size. He was able to stand at the foot of the four-poster bed and reach the clothing hanging within the wardrobe without moving. He dressed in a black kimono and tucked Hoshinagi—his family sword and the symbol of rulership of the Taiumijin—into its obi. He turned towards the window and looked out across the expanse of scrubland. Beyond the edge of the Hestia Rupes the tall, sandy-gold city of Astarte shimmered on the horizon.

  True night on Venus lasted 122 days, and a single day on the Cytherean planet was longer than its year. To compensate for this the terraformers placed a network of satellites in orbit that dimmed the light of the sun to the equivalent of Earth-twilight and refracted its light around the planet for a more human-friendly cycle of day and night. He came to this world during its daylight phase, and the “night” he just spent was a bright one.

  “I guess I best get to my obligations? Right, Tengu?” Guilt formed a coil of icy pain in his stomach.

  The cerberai snorted.

  Tanaka’s CPAd appeared in his UI. He accepted the coded transmission.

  “Mitsugawa-uesama.” Tanaka-san’s spectral image appeared before him and bowed at the waist.

  Good morning. Did you have a good night?

  “A productive one,” Tanaka replied. “Sol has a fully functioning, top of the line FTL comm system.”

  Restrict the report to only things I truly need to know, he transmitted on a tight-beam to Tanaka’s implant. A real report would have to wait until they were back on the Kageryū. LeRoux may be a potential ally, but he was still a baron.

  “There is no word on your uncle,” Tanaka-san began. “Our network continues to scour the home system with Mamiya-san’s help. There is also no word on any reaction from the Yulong Gongsi.”

  That is a small consolation, he responded. We should have found him by now, even with the chaos.

  “I shall redouble our efforts.”

  What about the situation with the ship, he asked with his stomach clenched. He dare not say the name of the vessel, not even in digital form, just in case unseen ears were listening in.

  “It seems word of that ship has not reached any major news outlet, nor other information sources in this system as far as my agents can tell. Word of our catastrophe is eclipsing all other news, but I suspect this is the case because the other side wishes it. It seems likely that whoever hijacked that civilian ship is covering it up. You should have taken care during the battle to be sure of your target.”

  Ichiro frowned. It was not like Tanaka to directly criticize him, but it would be petty to respond in kind simply because he was offended or surprised.

  So they are not trying to use our actions against us? Why would they waste the opportunity to further attack us?

  “I do not know, my lord, however, there is something strange going on here.” Tanaka replied.

  Strange?

  “My agents are reporting activity around both the Yulong Gongsi and Cosmos Corp networks.”

  I thought you stated there was no activity from the Yulong Gongsi.

  “No activity concerning your uncle or the attack on our system. This appears to concern something else.”

  He felt the hair go up on the back of his neck. What else?

  “They’re still working it out at this time. There is a 67% chance it could have something to do with you.”

  Me? He cocked an eyebrow.

  “The rumors of your survival are already spreading as fast as those of our new drive system. My network reports murmurs of it in all of the major systems in this sector. No doubt, word will reach the capital within the next few weeks, though how seriously it will be taken is a matter of debate.”

  That isn’t necessarily bad, he sent. As long as we don’t confirm them, it will keep our enemies guessing, and perhaps, force them to hesitate or make the wrong decision.

  “Perhaps, my lord.”

  Ichiro took in a deep breath, moving on to the reason he contacted Tanaka. I want your assessment of the deal before us.

  Tanaka-san cocked his head to the side. “My lord?”

  LeRoux’s proposal is half of Shiragawa for survival. I want your honest opinion, as my Chief of Special Operations, and as a citizen of Taiumikai. Should I take this deal?

  Tanaka-san blinked several times. His surprise was palpable. “This matter is not for me to decide.”

  I’m asking you for your opinion. Mamiya-san would not have hesitated, and he found himself missing his old adviser.

  Tanaka opened his mouth and paused before answering. “This is very unusual. My role is to supply you with information. My opinion is irrelevant.”

  Yet you gave it concerning my commands in battle. Ichiro gritted his teeth.

  The CEL shifted his weight back and forth. “Survival is usually the correct choice, however, Baron LeRoux asks for too much. Ultimately, as everything is, this is about the honor of our people as well as your House. Preserving what your ancestors built must take precedence. We will find another way, or you must convince him to aid us without destroying what we are. This is too much.”

  To refuse him without another prospect may be to die.

  “Since your grandfather restored the Bakufu, our code of honor has once more dominated our lives. It requires we accept the inevitable. If the alternative is to compromise our code this is the only acceptable path.”

  He stared at Tanaka-san’s image, frowning. It was true, that was what the code said. All Taiumijin everywhere were expected to live by it, but the only acceptable path? That did not sound right.

  I never interpreted the Code as applying to our entire people collectively as one.

  “Our people are made of individuals required to follow the code. Logic dictates that what is true for all is true for the sum of their parts.”

  It’s a cold calculation, he sent with a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.

  “Forgive my rudeness, but such calculations are necessary to rule. We cannot allow emotion to sway us in this nor lead us to brash action.”

  It feels wrong, Tanaka-san. I can’t agree with your logic. He suppressed the rising anger in his blood. Mamiya-san never spoke to him this way.

  The CEL raised an eyebrow.

  He shook his head. No. I’m not going to condemn people to ruin because of my pride.

  “This is not about pride,” Tanaka stated. “Honor transcends pride.”

  The honorable thing here is to save people’s lives, their livelihoods. The honorable thing is to do right.

  “Then it will be necessary to convince Baron LeRoux to reduce his price.”

>   Or find another way to save Shiragawa, and the Taiumijin. He felt as though gravity increased tenfold.

  “Do you know what you will do now, my lord?”

  He shook his head. It would depend on how the conversation with LeRoux went later, but he had more of an idea now. Continue to monitor our enemies. Inform me if there’s any change or something unusual happens.

  “My lord.” Tanaka-san bowed and his image vanished.

  Ichiro took a deep breath and noticed the chronometer in his UI was displaying a time corresponding to local mid-morning. He yawned, supposing it was time to impose on his host.

  He was in the yard overlooking the plains when the twins approached him with mischievous smiles on their faces. Armstrong leaned up against the creamy-tan wall of the villa in the shade with Tengu sitting at her side. Up on the balcony overlooking the garden Baron LeRoux appeared with a large, pewter cup in his hand. He leaned on the railing, took a sip, and stared down at the assembled group while the breeze tugged at the edges of his red silk robe.

  Ichiro looked back at the twins, feeling their excitement. He cocked an eyebrow.

  “Father wants us to demonstrate for you.” Europa moved towards him.

  “And he wants to see what you’re capable of,” her brother added.

  “Excuse me?” He pressed his lips together.

  “He’s something of a bastard like this,” Europa said under her breath. The look in her blue eyes made the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

  “But it is fitting. Business is war. Show him, and us, what you can do,” Enéas added.

  “I have heard that the sword of the Mitsugawa is a diamond-coated monoblade whose edge never dulls. You call it an Ākuha blade, yes?” Europa directed his attention to Hoshinagi with her eyes.

  “Is it true?” Enéas asked.

  “Yes.” He had a strange feeling about this, and connected with Armstrong’s CPAd. Hold your fire.

  Her alarm hit him like a splash of ice water. He saw her shift her hand to her waist out of the corner of his eye.

  “Is it true what they say about them? They can cut through ten centimeters of solid metal?” Enéas asked.