"That's what I like to see," said Toby breezily. "Good grouping. Relax, people. We won't start broadcasting till the ceremony itself. Which I'm sure I don't need to remind you is going out live; so, Cardinal, watch your language. I hope you're all ready to begin, because everyone else is. All the factory staff and those Church troops not currently lying flat on their backs and moaning quietly have been assembled outside and are standing in neat ranks, boiling in the summer heat and no doubt praying fervently for the start of the monsoon season. The Cardinal's prisoners have been lined up and securely chained in place. They were making rather a racket, but some kind soul has dosed them with industrial strength tranquilizers, and now it's all they can do to stand up straight. The execution should make for a good show, Cardinal. The populace does so love its blood sports. Even if the prey this time are mostly women and children. What happened, Cardinal? Were all the rebel men off on a fishing trip, perhaps?"
"One of these days your tongue is going to get you into trouble you won't be able to talk your way out of," said Kassar, every word chipped out of ice. "And I just pray I'm there so I can rip that wagging tongue right out of your head."
"Don't ever change, Cardinal," said Toby. "It's part of your charm." He looked across at Stephanie. "May I suggest we get a move on? It's never wise to keep a mass audience waiting too long. Especially if it happens to include the Empress Lionstone herself."
The ceremony, it had been decided at practically the last moment, would be held outside the factory despite the weather, so that the impressive size of the factory complex could be seen and admired all the better by the viewing billions. One of the stardrive assembly lines had been extended out the main doors, so that the very first completed mass-production stardrive could come rolling out of the factory to be presented to the waiting crowds and the holo audiences. The waiting crowds in this case being the increasingly rebellious factory staff and Church troops, growing more and more ready by the minute to kill for a glass of cold water. Most of the Faithful had been ferried down from the Church ship in orbit to make up the numbers. They didn't look at all happy to be there. Deep-grained indignation seethed in the ranks, barely suppressed by the presence of the remaining Jesuit commandos.
Stardrive production was months behind schedule already, and everyone knew it. The Rejects had attacked so often that they'd actually managed to bring the whole process to a halt on more than one occasion. Though of course that had never been publicly admitted, even under the Campbells. The official line was "teething troubles," to be expected with the development of any new technology. Only a few people knew that the new drive was derived from only partly understood alien technology that had a disturbing habit of killing the clones who worked on it, and those people kept their mouths shut. Because most of them were dead, and the rest didn't want to be.
Toby kept Flynn moving, covering the ceremony from as many angles as he could get away with, without making the watching audience dizzy. He was careful to give each of the main players equal coverage, to avoid later claims of bias, and made sure Flynn kept a very safe distance from Kassar at all times. Luckily, Flynn's Union had been able to emergency express him a new camera in time for the ceremony. And if having a camera actually blasted off your shoulder by a disrupter didn't count as an emergency, Toby didn't know what did. Surprisingly, Flynn hadn't been that upset at the time. Hell, he said, I've covered Democracy Now protest marches. God, they're a vicious bunch. Nothing scares me after them. Toby smiled and shrugged, then and now, and got on with his job. He couldn't help wondering how much Imperial News must have laid out in payoffs to ensure his exclusive coverage. It wasn't really a major news story, but there were enough names and personages present, combined with memories of the rebel attack during the last live broadcast, to ensure a major live audience. Including the Empress. Which meant this broadcast could be a major feather in Imperial News' cap—if Toby didn't blow it. He was determined not to. At least partly because he had been told—quietly but very firmly—that if he did screw up, he shouldn't bother coming home again. Except in separate pieces.
So he worked his backside off, getting quick interviews where he could, combined with interesting shots of the crowds and the prisons and the factory complex, to liven up the long pompous speeches from anyone who was anyone—or thought they should be. He was a little upset he hadn't managed to get an interview with the legendary Half A Man, but Investigator Shoal had taken pains to keep Toby and Flynn at a more than polite distance. Toby had tried mentioning the importance of a free press and the Empress's name, but Shoal gave him such a look that he decided to go somewhere else very quickly before she decided to grab Flynn's new camera and insert it into one of his main body cavities.
Lily and Michel smiled for the camera when it was pointed their way, but otherwise stayed quietly in the background. The temptation to keep checking their watches was almost overpowering, and they both tended to jump at sudden loud noises. But even their excited expectation couldn't keep them awake in the face of the speeches. Michel began dozing with his eyes open, an art he'd perfected while forced to listen to long boring speeches at Court, and was actually close to nodding off completely when Lily elbowed him suddenly in the ribs. His head jerked up, and he glared at her as he rubbed his side gingerly.
"Don't do that! It hurts."
"Be quiet, you big baby. Pay attention. See that flunky carrying a tray full of drinks?"
"Of course I can see him. I'm not blind."
"Then, keep watching. One of those glasses, the one with the crimson streaks in the stem, is headed straight for dear Daniel. And there's enough poison in it to see off a regiment of nuns."
"Are you crazy!" People turned to look at him, and he gave them a brief meaningless smile before lowering his voice. "Have you lost your mind, Lily? You'll get us both executed!"
"Relax, Michel. I know what I'm doing. Since the Chojiros said we couldn't actually blow up our respective spouses with their explosives, I've had to make other plans. The poison is completely undetectable, unless you know exactly what you're looking for, and by the time they can ship the body back to a civilized pathology lab, all traces will have disappeared. The waiter's working under a posthypnotic command. I told you my witchy gifts would come in handy. His mind will wipe itself clean of all memories of the incident once he's passed the right glass to Daniel. You see, I've thought of everything."
"Not quite," said Michel, fighting hard against an urge to take her neck in both hands and squeeze till her eyes bulged. "They'll know it was us anyway, because we're the only ones with a motive! The first thing they'll do is have an esper look inside our heads, just in case!"
"Nonsense. Daniel's death will be blamed on the rebels, just like everything else that happens here. And I will finally be free. If everything goes as planned, we can try the same trick on Stephanie later."
Lost for words, Michel could only stand and stare dumbly as the waiter carried his tray of drinks past the various personages, subtly turning his tray so that they took the glass nearest them and not the one with the poison in. Lily grinned broadly and squeezed Michel's arm with both hands. Which made it all the more heartrending when Half A Man ignored the glass he was supposed to take and reached across the tray to take the glass with the crimson-streaked stem. Lily's eyes widened, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the squeals coming out. Michel thought he might faint. Killing Daniel Wolfe was one thing. Poisoning the extremely important and well-connected Half A Man was quite another. The Empress would move heaven and earth to find out who was responsible. Starting with a complete esper scan of everyone present, on general principles. And Sorry, it was a mistake wouldn't go down all that well as an explanation. But there was nothing they could do. They couldn't say anything without giving themselves away. So they just stood and watched helplessly as Half A Man raised the glass to his half a mouth and drank deeply.
"How long till it works?" whispered Michel.
"It's supposed to be instantaneous,"
said Lily. "Especially considering how much I put in. I'm surprised the glass didn't melt."
Half A Man emptied the glass and handed it back to the waiter. "Very nice," they heard him say. "Do you have anymore?"
Lily shook her head dazedly as the waiter went on to deliver a harmless glass of wine to Daniel. "I don't believe it. Half A Man doesn't drink. Everyone knows that."
"Maybe he's never been this hot before. I bloody haven't."
"Well, why isn't black smoke coming out of his ears—ear?"
Michel shrugged. "It would appear poison is just another of the long list of things that can't kill Half A Man. Cover for me. I'm going to find something to hide behind, and then vomit for a while." He stopped as Lily grabbed his arm again. "Now what's wrong?"
"I don't know. Something bad is coming. I can feel it."
"Lily…"
"My witchy gifts are never wrong!"
"Of course something bad is coming! We planted explosives, remember? Now shut the hell up, before you start drawing attention to us! And let go of my arm. I'm losing the feeling in my fingers."
Lily scowled and turned her back on him. Michel sighed and was grateful for small mercies. The speeches droned on, lasting longer than expected, as speeches have a way of doing. Some of the prisoners and factory staff had passed out from the heat and were brought back to consciousness by varyingly brutal methods according to when the camera wasn't watching. Time was getting on. A lot of people had started looking at their watches. Toby looked at his and hoped the audience would stick with him, if only for the executions. He frowned despite himself. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. On the one hand they were definitely rebels, criminals, but on the other, most of them were women and children. Toby Shreck had justified a lot of questionable things in his life, working for Gregor Shreck did that to you, but murdering children in cold blood was just a step too far, even for him. He'd thought a lot about what he could do, and it seemed to him that he only had one chance. A last minute, live, on-camera appeal for clemency for the children, direct to the Empress. The watching billions would eat it up, and Lionstone just might see the advantages of appearing warm and sentimental in public. Either way, it was the children's last hope. He couldn't save the men and women. The public had to have its blood.
And so everyone checked their watches again and again, making frantic calculations in their heads as they waited for their planned surprises to pay off. They were all so preoccupied that no one noticed Investigator Shoal quietly disappearing from the scene on a mission of her own.
Mother Superior Beatrice sat on a folding chair outside the hospital tent, savoring the fresh air and drinking wine straight from the bottle. Even the evening heat was refreshing after the claustrophobic charnel house stench inside the tent. There was more room to move inside now that the worse-off had died, but the tent was still crowded from wall to wall with human suffering. Beatrice sighed and took another long drink. She was saving more patients than she was losing, but only just. The door swung open behind her for a moment, letting out a brief rush of cheap disinfectant barely covering the stench of blood and pus and gangrene that lay beneath it. She shuddered, her hands shaking for a long moment after the rest of her had stopped. She'd seen so much death and pain, and she was sick of it. Let someone else cope for a while. She knew eventually her strength would return, and then she'd get up and go back into hell again, but for the moment it was just too much to ask. So she sat on her chair and drank her wine and looked sardonically down at the great ceremony taking place outside the factory. She'd been invited, but she was damned if she'd give them the satisfaction of attending. That would have been too much like endorsing their stupid bloody war.
Approaching footsteps jerked her out of her reverie, and she looked around to see Investigator Shoal trudging unhurriedly up the low rise toward her. Beatrice frowned. What the hell did Shoal want with her? Investigators tended not to acknowledge any wound that wasn't immediately life threatening, and they weren't great ones for visiting the sick. She studied Shoal as she drew closer. Grim-looking woman, but then again Investigators weren't known for their sense of humor, either. Shoal finally came to a halt before Beatrice, not even breathing hard after the climb. Shoal nodded briefly. Beatrice nodded back, but didn't feel like getting up.
"Nice evening for a stroll, Investigator. What brings you my way? Ceremony get too boring?"
"Something like that," said Shoal. She glanced at the tent entrance. "Keeping busy?"
"Always. There might be lulls in the fighting out in the field, but here the fight to save lives just goes on and on. Of course, you wouldn't know anything about saving lives, Investigator. Not your line of territory."
"No. It must be a hard job. Unpleasant at times. Having to make harsh decisions, about who you can help and who you can't, which ones you have to sacrifice so others can be saved. I can understand that. It's a lot like my job, sometimes."
Beatrice frowned. It was almost as though the Investigator was trying to explain something to her. She shrugged and offered the bottle to Shoal. "A quick drink, Investigator? Good for the soul, so they say."
"No thanks, Mother Superior. I don't drink while I'm working."
Beatrice made the connection even as Shoal drew her sword, and she threw herself sideways off her chair. An Investigator's only work was killing. The sword blade whistled through the air where she'd been a moment before, and Beatrice hit the ground rolling. She surged up onto her feet again and flailed out wildly with her bottle. The wine shot out of the narrow neck in a solid jet that hit the Investigator right in her eyes, blinding her for a moment. Shoal lashed out with her sword anyway, but Beatrice had moved again. She brought the bottle down on Shoal's head as hard as she could. It didn't break, but the Investigator slumped to one knee under the force of the blow, shaking her head. Beatrice hit her again, putting all her strength into it, and this time the bottle shattered on the Investigator's skull. Shoal fell forward and Beatrice turned and ran, still holding the jagged bottle in her hand. She ran, though she hadn't a clue where safety lay anymore. Shoal's orders had to have come from very high up, to risk upsetting the Sisterhood, which meant she had no friends here on Technos III. She'd offended practically everyone at one time or another. No. She still had one friend; with influence if not power. Toby Shreck. She sprinted down the hill toward the factory complex and the ceremony. If she could put out a plea for protection on live holo coverage, the Wolfes would have to protect her or face the entire Sisterhood's wrath. Beatrice ran on, pushing herself as hard as she could, the wine she'd already drunk swimming heavily in her head and stomach. And she tried not to hear the pursuing feet of the Investigator, not all that far behind.
Jack Random, Ruby Journey, and Alexander Storm moved silently through a newly cut tunnel, deep beneath the surface of Technos III. Up above, on the jagged metal surface, the Rejects had launched a surprise attack against those guards not attending the ceremony, to keep them occupied while Random's small party slipped unnoticed past the factory's outer defenses. The tunnel ran deep, undercutting Wolfe and rebel trenches alike, to emerge beyond the innermost of the circles of hell, inside the factory's perimeter. The Wolfe forces would detect the new tunnel soon enough once the attack was over, but by then Random and his force would be inside the factory, the tunnel collapsed behind them. In theory.
"I don't like this," said Storm. "I really don't like this. The Wolfe technicians must have spotted us by now. The guards could be down here any minute."
"Not so long as the Rejects are keeping them busy," said Random. "And I do wish you'd stop complaining, Alex. You're starting to sound like my fourth wife, may she rest in peace."
"She's dead?" said Ruby.
"No," said Random. "Just wishful thinking."
"I warned you about her, too," said Storm. "You didn't listen to me then, either. This scheme is crazy, Jack! It can't work!"
"You say that about all my plans."
"And I'm usually right."
 
; Random sighed. "Look, forget all the if's and maybes, it's really very simple. The Rejects keep the troops busy, and while everyone else is occupied with the ceremony, and the force Screen is down for the broadcast, we slip in and free the clone workers and get them out before anybody notices. What could go wrong?"
"I've made a list," said Storm. "But I don't suppose you want to see it."
"Hold your noise," said Ruby. "Or I'll hold it for you. You're getting too loud, Storm. Someone might hear you."
"Who?" said Storm. "According to the master planner here, no one's around to hear us."
"There's always the chance some guard hasn't read the script and is hanging about where he shouldn't be," said Random. "Just because it's a really good plan doesn't mean there can't be… complications. Did you really never like my plans, Alex?"
"No I bloody didn't. They were always needlessly complex and extremely dangerous, especially for the poor sods who had to carry them out."
"I never asked my men to do anything I wasn't willing to do myself, and you know it. Hell, I lead those undercover teams as often as not. Anyway, if my plans were that bad, why did you keep volunteering to go along with me?"
"I was younger then. And you were my friend."
Random stopped and looked back. Ruby stopped, too, and instinctively moved in close beside Random as he studied his old friend thoughtfully. Storm looked almost defiant, the dim lighting putting shadows in his face. Or perhaps they'd been there for some time. For a moment. Random thought he was looking at a completely different person, someone he really didn't know at all. And, in a moment of insight, he wondered if that was how Storm saw him these days.
"You were my friend?" he said slowly. "As in used to be, but not anymore?"
Storm met his gaze squarely. "I don't know. I used to think I understood you, but you've changed, Jack. Look at you. You're younger, stronger, faster. It's not natural. I can't even follow the way you think anymore. What are you becoming, Jack?"