‘Waiting, sir. I locked them all in there. Didn’t want them overhearing this conversation.’
General Jaxx sweeps his hand back across his skull, and then discreetly wipes his hand on his uniform trousers. Buttoning his shirt, he tucks it in and stands up to put on his jacket.
‘If I tell you to dump them all into space?’
‘Then I pull the lever, sir.’
‘I believe you would.’
‘Yes, sir.’
He sighs. ‘You have no notion,’ he says, ‘how tempting I find that idea.’ Sitting down again, he leans forward. ‘This was a simple mission, Sven. A basic infiltrate and terminate. Sounds to me like you messed up.’
Thinking back over the past three weeks, I can see how he might think that.
‘What are your casualties?’
‘Franc, sir.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘What about enemy losses?’
‘Don’t know, sir.’
He must hear something in my voice, because he leans closer to the lenz. ‘Sven,’ he says, ‘give me a figure.’
I shake my head, but it is not insolence. I really don’t know. ‘How many people are there on a mother ship, sir?’
He sits back. ‘You destroyed a mother ship?’
‘Yes, sir. It killed Hekati-’ I hesitate. ‘Well, it wounded Hekati.’ My mouth tastes sour with the recollection. It will be a while before I scrub the habitat’s dying scream from my memory. ‘The mother ship split,’ I tell him. ‘Birthed a cruiser.’
‘We’re talking about Victory First Last and Always?’
What does he think we’re talking about? That’s the problem with senior officers. They’re too busy thinking about half a dozen other things to listen to what is being said.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘So we’re talking about an Uplift general?’
‘No, sir. I’m talking about General Tournier.’ This is getting more complicated than I like. And something in the general’s gaze tells me I know too much for his comfort or my safety.
‘General Tournier died in battle, gloriously.’
‘I’m sure he did, sir.’
‘OctoV announced it. General Tournier died in battle. As did the entire Ninth Regiment. They fought heroically, to the last man.’
‘Ah,’ I say. ‘That explains it . . .’
He asks the obvious question, Explains what?
And I’m doing my best to come up with an answer when I think of Franc, whose self-inflicted scars were the only things tying her to reality. And before that, something a colonel once said after Haze referred to a dead Uplifted as a machine.
I have my answer.
‘General Tournier had braids . . .’
‘Sven.’
‘Braids, sir. All the senior officers did. And there were . . .’ I try to remember. ‘At least a hundred of them, maybe more. Many more.’
‘A thousand died at Jade3.’
‘Yes, sir. I’m sure they did. Died gloriously.’
‘You’re saying that’s a lie?’ The general’s voice is hard. He’s lost his silky smoothness, skipped the bit where his words are meant to go icy.
‘No, sir. I’m saying the Uplifted brought them back to life.’
‘Fuck,’ he says. ‘You’re good at this.’
It’s the first time I’ve ever heard Jaxx swear. I’m negotiating for my life here; we’re both aware of that. I’m negotiating for the lives of my troopers. And then there is Aptitude. I swore to her mother that I would stick around to protect her. I intend to keep that promise.
‘Sir,’ I say, my voice firm. ‘The Enlightened obviously resurrected an entire regiment.’ Sounds like the truth to me. And it will be the truth by the time I’ve finished with it.
‘Go on,’ he says.
‘I don’t imagine the U/Free knew about that. But, honestly, how could we be expected to sign a treaty with our own dead?’
‘Sven,’ the general says. ‘Talk me through this.’
We get to the bit where the Silver Fist cruiser sends fighters after us and we kill them. And then hide in the mirror dock of a habitat. ‘Where you found the tug?’
I nod. ‘Yes, sir. We were almost out of oxygen.’
‘And then?’
‘Franc flew a suicide mission.’
The general looks interested. ‘How did you choose?’
‘She volunteered.’
He smiles, because that pleases him. He’s impressed by stuff like that. And his smile gets wider as I run him through the rest, how we destroyed a B79 bomber and crashed an epsilon-class cruiser into a force field and used the power drain to make our escape in a mining tug. Although his smile falters when I tell him about persuading Hekati to explode.
‘She was dying?’
‘Almost dead,’ I say. ‘Beyond saving.’
‘Good,’ he says. ‘The U/Free will want to know that.’
It is the first thing he’s said that suggests I won’t be spending the rest of eternity floating on the edge of an asteroid field. His next sentence confirms it.
‘I’ll put in a call,’ he says. ‘Talk to Paper Osamu myself. I’m sure she’ll be with you soon enough.’
‘Sir . . .’
He looks at me.
‘Thought you might want to collect us yourself.’
Set the hook, my old lieutenant used to say. Set the hook and reel them in. Only, this time, it’s not just a saying. Well, the reeling in bit isn’t – we will get to that.
‘And why would I want to collect you?’ General Jaxx is too interested to be outraged.
‘Three reasons, sir.’ Opening my shirt, I hold up the planet buster.
‘Is that what I think it is?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘It’s a good start,’ he says. ‘What are the others?’
So I tell him the tug is tied to the biggest chunk of crystal-line carbon I’ve ever seen. And he knows what our glorious leader is like about diamonds.
‘And the third?’
‘Vijay,’ I say.
The general closes his eyes. It’s brief, and he catches it fast. General Jaxx doesn’t show weakness or forgive those who see it in him. With his son’s name, I undo all the good I have done myself in the previous ten minutes.
‘He died well?’ There’s more hope than belief in the question.
‘He did as ordered,’ I say. ‘Killed General Tournier. Cut his throat and hacked off his traitorous head. I have the head with me.’
‘That makes four things,’ says the general.
‘Yes, sir,’ I say. ‘Never was good at counting.’
‘And my son? He died bravely?’
‘Colonel Vijay’s here, sir.’
‘Sven,’ says General Jaxx. ‘Are you saying my son is in the airlock with your troopers?’
‘Yes, sir,’ I say. ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’
‘The airlock you’re planning to blow if I give the order?’
‘Yes, sir.’
General Jaxx looks impressed.
Chapter 60
Glancing at a fork, I check the other five forks next to it and wonder what is so special about this one anyway. Six forks, seven knives, four spoons and three glasses. All made from silver.
Apart from the glasses, obviously.
They’re milled from blocks of natural crystal.
In front of me sits a roundel of beef. At least that is how it’s described on the menu. The beef is thin as tissue and wind-dried on the shores of a small sea two systems away. Wind-drying the beef seasons it with rare salts. And yes, it says that on the menu too.
‘Begin at the outside,’ says Paper. ‘Work your way in.’ She is talking about the forks. When I reach forward to pick up the beef with my fingers, she rests her hand on my wrist. ‘Don’t,’ she says.
And when I scowl, she adds, ‘Please.’
Imperia is the oldest restaurant in Farlight. It sits in a narrow street five back from Zabo Square and looks like someone’s house. Obviously, everyone in Farlight has heard about it except me. Even Angelique is impressed. Although she is less impressed when she discovers who’s asked me to supper.
As for Shil, she just slams a door on her way out.
A limousine hover picks me up from Golden Memories.
Actually, it doesn’t. Paper thinks it does, but the driver she hires knows he’ll be robbed blind before he gets halfway there. So he puts in a call and I agree to meet him halfway.