“Hm.” Did that hm sound skeptical? Maybe he didn’t think she would tell him if she did find something interesting.
“Though, Avigart, I did see that name.” Tikaya tapped the folders piled about her. “Not in here. Where was it? Oh, I remember.” She pushed away from the desk and walked into the outer office. “I wandered around here, reading everything on the bulletin boards and walls when I needed a break a couple of hours ago.” She stopped in front of a duty roster scrawled on a chalkboard. “Avigart requested a change of duty tonight. Instead of working the night shift here in the hotel, he wanted some patrol.”
“He might have had an inkling about what was going to happen to him tonight,” Dak said. “I wish he’d said something to me, or spoken to his lieutenant. Especially if he was being strong-armed.”
“You would think that if he knew his own death was impending, he would have left the hotel, regardless of whether his duty shift was approved.”
“True.” Dak rested a finger next to scribbled initials on the chalkboard. “His request actually was approved.”
“Not soon enough to help him, it seems.” Tikaya removed her spectacles and cleaned the lenses as if the act would help her better see clues hovering in the air. “It’s quiet in here tonight.” They were the only ones in the office. “Or is it simply later than I realize?”
“An hour until midnight. We usually only have a couple of people staffing the office at night, someone able to raise the alarm if something happens in the city. The vice president collected some of the men to guard him as he moves his belongings to some friend’s property, well outside of the plant-invasion area. He’s not waiting for Rias to give the word to evacuate.”
“Given that the plant is literally knocking at the windows, it’s hard to blame him,” Tikaya said. “Odd that he’s moving in the middle of the night though.”
“I thought so as well. I went to ask him about it, but he was mysteriously unavailable for questions.”
“Do you find it... disconcerting that two of the people on your very short list of possible snitches made plans to spend the night away from the hotel?”
Dak gave her a sharp look. “Are you suggesting that it might not be a good night to enjoy a holiday in the Emperor’s Bulwark?”
“I don’t know. Rias isn’t here, so if someone wanted to assassinate him, launching an attack tonight wouldn’t do anything, not here anyway.” Tikaya grimaced, thinking that Rias, for all the men he had taken with him to that waterfront warehouse, was a lot more vulnerable out there than he would be here. “There’s nobody here worth expending effort to kill.”
Dak’s intense look hadn’t faded. If anything, it sharpened further. “You’re here.”
Tikaya drew back, not sure what he was implying. “You’re here too.”
“Yes, but my death wouldn’t devastate Rias so utterly that he would be unable to finish his submarine modifications.”
“I wouldn’t bet on my death having that effect, either,” Tikaya said, though his point sank in. “He would finish the submarine and then mourn.”
“Strangers might not guess that. Strangers might be desperate enough at this point to try anything. If they can’t get at him directly...” Dak frowned, then cursed.
“What?”
“I originally came in here to tell you that I’m going down to check on Rias,” Dak said. “I’ve had men reporting in every hour. Two hours ago, I got a schematic and orders to send that Sarevic woman out to a factory to start working with a team of people on making more electricity generators. One hour ago... I got nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“No report.”
Tikaya swallowed. “You think he’s in trouble?” Rias and Mahliki were both down in that warehouse. Though they had been accompanied by a number of armed men, she would run back to the suite and find her bow if she thought she could help.
“I think he can take care of whatever trouble comes, but that doesn’t mean it’s acceptable to miss filing a report.”
Tikaya couldn’t tell if Dak was making a joke or not. She did sense that he was trying not to worry her. That made her worry more. “I can go with you.” He opened his mouth, but she spoke again before he could start. “I’ve been in combat situations.” Remembering she had demonstrated her ability to fall out of a chair not minutes before, Tikaya added, “I’ve been useful in combat situations.”
“I’ve heard about your bow skills. What I was going to say is that you should pack a bag too. I’m going to put out orders to evacuate the hotel. Just in case.”
“Based on our hunches? That seems drastic.”
“It was going to have to be evacuated soon anyway.” Dak jogged for the door, but paused before turning into the hallway. He looked back at her. “Don’t take too long packing that bag.”
• • • • •
When Maldynado had imagined setting a trap and catching the villain responsible for sabotaging Sespian’s building, he hadn’t imagined himself crawling out on a six-inch-wide steel beam twenty feet above the ground. If he dropped the jug cradled under his arm, he hoped Basilard would catch it before it crashed to the dirt below and broke into a thousand pieces.
“Should have delegated this to Sicarius. He likes this sort of thing.”
Maldynado had no idea which section of the framework would be most structurally crucial, but he doubted the cigar-smoking prisoner would have known, either. This had probably been intended to be one more bit of mysterious sabotage to set back construction, not the ultimate disaster that would halt work permanently.
“How’s this look?” he called down, trying to keep his voice low. They had more than an hour until midnight, so he doubted the sniper they expected would be out there yet, but there was a security guard roaming around the site, a lantern bumping and banging against his thigh. As quiet as the city was tonight, Maldynado had been able to hear it from a hundred meters away. He had timed his climb to avoid being spotted. Even if he was on the side of the law here, explaining his current position might prove difficult, especially to the foreman.
From the shadows below, Basilard waved and pointed. Of course he thought the jug should be moved ten feet farther out on the beam. He wasn’t the one sliding along the narrow perch on his belly.
“You better not be having fun with me,” Maldynado whispered, scooting farther out. His shirt was rucked up around his ribs, so the cold metal scraped his bare stomach. He couldn’t see any difference between his chosen spot and the other. “All right, what about here?”
Basilard gave him an affirmative, then waved with urgency and pointed toward the south side of the lot. Maldynado couldn’t see anything over there, but he scooted backward, assuming the guard was coming. Or maybe their guest had shown up early. If the sniper spotted Maldynado up on the beam, he would know something was wrong and would flee without ever taking a shot.
“Or he’ll take a shot at me,” Maldynado grumbled.
As he reached the closest vertical support post, a lantern came into view around the corner of the building. Yup, that night watchman was ambling along at a good clip. Maldynado skimmed down the post, ignoring the rivets bumping at his legs through his trousers, and landed on the cement slab at the bottom, careful to slow down for a soundless landing.
Without any lights on the site, Maldynado would have expected the shadows to hide him, but a bright three-quarters moon had risen, and the guard was squinting in his direction. Someone must have chosen the midnight hour for sabotage, knowing it wouldn’t be too dark for the sniper to see his target. Good for the sniper, bad for Maldynado. He slipped behind the thick steel post, hoping the guard wasn’t certain he had seen something. Basilard had already melted into the shadows somewhere.
But the guard dropped a hand to a pistol and changed his path, heading straight for the post. Maldynado was debating whether to flee or to attempt to explain himself when the man spun about, facing in the opposite direction. He raised his lantern and pulled the pistol from its
holster.
Maldynado didn’t know whether he had Basilard or Sicarius to thank, but he took off in the opposite direction, using the shadows beneath the looming framework to hide his retreat. By the time the guard turned around, Maldynado was out of sight behind the dumpsters at the corner of the lot.
A moment later, Basilard joined him there.
“Are you the one I have to thank for that distraction?” Maldynado whispered.
It was too dark to see Basilard’s response, but he pointed toward an alley across the street. Yes, good idea to leave the site—and the guard who was poking his head around posts and beams, looking all over the place now. They ran across the street, then followed the shadows along the buildings until they reached an alley that had a view of the jug. It would have a view of it for someone with eagle eyes anyway.
“Can you see that from here?” Maldynado asked.
Basilard pointed at the beam.
“That smudge? Are you sure?”
Unfortunately, the alley was also too dark to read his signs.
“It will be easier to see from a rooftop,” Sicarius said from behind them.
Maldynado nearly jumped out of his boots.
You invited him, he reminded himself. No complaining about stealthy approaches.
“A sniper may choose to shoot from the building to our right or the one to the right of it. The lower roof to our left would provide a poor angle.”
“Guess that means he can see it too,” Maldynado said.
“Someone approaches,” Sicarius said.
“Someone with a bow or a rifle who’s obviously here for heinous purposes?”
“It’s Sergeant Yara.”
“Oh, probably not then,” Maldynado said.
“I will watch the rooftops for the approach of this saboteur.”
Maldynado tried to decide from Sicarius’s tone if he thought this mission a waste of time. He definitely gave the impression he had somewhere else he would rather be. Of course, emotionless features and monotone voice notwithstanding, Maldynado usually sensed that from him.
Several seconds later, the soft clinking of handcuffs bumping on a utility belt foretold Evrial’s approach. Maldynado stepped out of the alley to lift a hand toward the shadowy figure, though he would not have been certain it was she and not some other enforcer if not for Sicarius’s warning. Maldynado wondered how he could tell—her height was tall for a woman but not for a man, and the bulky uniform jacket hid her curves. He trusted Sicarius’s instincts though.
“Good evening, my lady,” Maldynado said. “Did you come because you were unable to sleep after your shift, due to the cold emptiness beside you in bed?”
“I came because I was sure you would be arrested by dawn if I didn’t.” Yup, that was Evrial.
Basilard signed something, though Maldynado could only pick out a couple of the gestures. He got the gist though. Basilard’s vote was for Maldynado getting arrested well before dawn.
“I also came to tell you that our block has been added to the evacuation list,” Evrial said. “You might want to come back to the flat and pack whatever belongings you don’t want to see devoured by the plant.”
“I can’t leave until we’ve found out who’s behind the sabotage here.”
“I’m not packing your hat collection for you.”
“I don’t need you to. I’ll risk the loss.”
“Fine,” Evrial said. “Though I don’t see why you’re so worried about this building. I can’t believe they’re even continuing with construction in the face of everything that’s going on.”
“Because...” Maldynado turned around, intending to ask Basilard to give them some privacy, but he had already slipped away, joining Sicarius on the rooftops perhaps. “Because this is my chance to prove myself to Starcrest. He thinks... well, I don’t know what he thinks, but I’m guessing he believes me a tad... superfluous.”
“I doubt that’s the word that comes to his mind when he thinks of you.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not flattering. I haven’t had a chance to make a good impression on him yet. If I can solve this problem, this is my chance to show him I’m... useful.”
“Still angling for a statue?” Evrial asked.
“No, a job.”
She was silent for a moment, gazing toward the building site, watching the guard, his lantern bumping at his side as he made a new circuit. “A job in the city, I assume.”
“I imagine I would go wherever he might want to send me.”
“Which probably wouldn’t be to a little rural town with two streets.”
“Two streets?” Maldynado asked, trying to lighten her somberness. “Were there that many?”
It didn’t work. Evrial folded her arms and continued to stare across to the construction site. “Do you truly want a job or is this just some... strategy to get me to stay. You can’t leave because you have this important government work to do, so naturally I would be the one who would have to give up my dream?”
“Uhm.” Maldynado might have been thinking along those lines, but he hated to admit it. “Are you so determined to leave Stumps? Isn’t there any way...?”
“Maldynado, this promotion... it’s all I ever wanted, all I ever worked for. To be one of the first women at the top of the enforcer ranks.”
“I thought...” Maldynado cleared his throat. “I had hoped that if I got a good job here, you would be open to staying. I know there’s a promotion for you there, but you have a job here, too, and you’re good at what you do. You would get a promotion here sooner rather than later, I’m sure of it.” Especially if Maldynado could indeed get in with the president. “I just can’t see myself in your little town. With all your relatives.”
“They would get used to you.”
“But what would I do there?”
Fortunately, she did not point out that he wasn’t doing much here. “I don’t know, but it stings that you would be willing to go wherever Starcrest tells you, but you won’t even think about going where I... Never mind. I guess I knew from the beginning that we’re... too different.”
Maldynado slumped against the cold brick wall. Was he selfish not to consider it? It wasn’t that far away from the city. Or was it less about being selfish and more about sensing that deep down, she had had enough of him?
“I thought the differences made things interesting,” Maldynado said.
“They did. They do. But is ‘interesting’ enough to base a life around?”
Maldynado shrugged helplessly. He hadn’t realized she had been planning the rest of her life. He had thought they were still just having fun.
“I need to go back and pack,” Evrial said. “Good luck with your trap. Be careful.”
Maldynado didn’t say anything as she walked down the alley and disappeared around the corner. Maybe instead of trying to arrange love lives for Sespian and Basilard, he should have been worrying about his own affairs. Or maybe it had just been easier—safer—to deal with someone else’s.
Chapter 21
Sespian crouched at the corner of the building with Mahliki. Two lorries barricaded the street to the north and the south, military lorries that should have been there to defend Starcrest. How had those religious zealots acquired them?
On the other side of the building, a few soldiers were rushing to drag in the diving suits the president had ordered while others covered them, hurling blasting sticks into the riled up greenery. Spot fires burned, but the plant itself never caught flame. Craters dotted the ground around the building, and it was as if they were in the middle of a battlefield rather than on the waterfront in the most populous city in Turgonia. But midnight had come, and the citizens had been evacuated, so the only witnesses to this battle were the combatants and the moon above.
On the rooftop, more soldiers knelt or lay on their stomachs in sniper positions, taking shots at the lorries and the robed figures inside. In the few seconds Sespian watched, bullets that should have cut through the glass window
s of the cabs bounced off.
“The Science?” he asked.
“Yes.” Mahliki waved toward the nearest vehicle. “Someone is maintaining shields—the vehicles don’t have the feel of Made devices. The practitioners out there feel clunky—like they’re expending a lot of effort to perform small tasks—so I don’t think they’re particularly well-trained.”
“They don’t need to be to make trouble for us, seeing as we lack anyone with those talents.
“True, but there aren’t that many of them. Maybe three or four with any skill. The rest of the robed men are bruisers acting as bodyguards and cannon fodder for our soldiers. If we can get to the practitioners and knock them out or take them out of the equation somehow, then this simply becomes a firefight between two parties of mundane warriors.”
“Do you think you can identify the practitioners?” Sespian asked.
“They’re in the cabs, those two, I think. I wonder if they’re only shielding the fronts of the lorries or if they’ve thought to extend their defenses to the bottoms as well. A well-placed blasting stick...” Mahliki looked Sespian up and down in the dancing shadows from the nearest fire. “I don’t suppose you brought blasting sticks?”
“No, sorry. Those are our lorries after all, the military’s. I didn’t think blowing them up would be a goal.”
“Better them than the Explorer. Sespian, if Father doesn’t get that sub fixed up and down in the water... those priests are going to be the only ones who can harm the plant, and I don’t think they realize the magnitude of the problem. A few lightning strikes will be like stealing grains of sand from the beach. Even if they do understand and have something great planned, do we want to be rescued on their terms?”
Though Sespian wasn’t sure Starcrest would approve of his seventeen-year-old daughter running into the middle of this danger, he couldn’t deny her argument. The soldiers had orders to stand their ground and protect the president—and the submarine. He and Mahliki might be the only ones who could try to sneak behind enemy lines to stop the practitioners.