Other things were moving, all right. And maybe he and Frank had just become two more pieces on the board, white bishop and white knight, say, out there to tempt the opponent into doing something. She’d tried to tell him get their asses home. He’d ignored her warning, confident in the moment he’d done it.
Maybe he shouldget himself and Frank to the airport, and go home, this evening, while they could, settle in and let the youngster run the place.
Or maybe the old bishop had a few moves in him. He and Frank had been at this a long, long time, and he wasn’t out of resources yet.
Khalid? He wouldn’t concede the board to that bastard, not while he had room to maneuver.
“If we don’t get Jacques out of there,” Frank said, “his lifespan is limited.”
“Jacques is due at Science in two hours and I think we should go there now, just in case anybody’s timing our departure. If we’re in the target, let’s not make it too easy for them.”
BOOK THREE Section 5 Chapter x
JULY 26, 2424
1620H
The security hold was officially off. The halls were totally quiet, except for Patrick Emory on his way home from work. A ghostly hush prevailed throughout Alpha Wing. They met him, Justin and Grant did, on the gray, blue‑wave carpet, and Patrick just looked nervous and tired after what had been, to anyone’s reckoning, a hell of a day.
“How’s Wing One?” Justin asked him, knowing Patrick would have come that way.
“Quiet.” Patrick said, “just normal. Except the construction hasn’t started back up.”
“Good,” Justin said, and they passed each other, on their individual business. They picked up Mark and Gerry downstairs. Mark and Gerry wanted to know when they left the Wing, and they played by the rules and didn’t make them have to scramble when exit security stalled them: Mark and Gerry met them at the lift, they were all pleasant to each other–
“Hope we didn’t mess up your supper,” Justin said.
“No, ser,” Gerry said, “we had a sandwich. Thanks for the warning.”
“Glad to oblige,” he said. “Sorry you have to tag us.”
“Our duty, ser,” Mark said, which it was.
They passed the exit desk, took the lift up to familiar territory: the two Ari had set to watch Jordan’s vicinity were on duty there–had a desk, today, for greater comfort, and disguised themselves as ordinary hall security. Mark and Gerry were going to have to stand, at least for a few moments.
“Our intent is to go out to supper,” Justin said to their two guards, “but that depends. We could send out; we could just eat in. Don’t worry about it. Just stay at ease.”
“Yes, ser,” the answer was. They clearly didn’t mind. Alter the rest of today, with, as they heard from Wes, some of their number in hospital and otherwise patched up, Mark and Gerry had had a quiet day.
Grant rang the minder. “Grant ALX,” he said, “and Justin Warrick. We’re looking to take you both to dinner.”
No answer, immediately. Then the door opened and let them in.
Jordan was on the couch, looking asleep, give or take the glass beside him. Paul had gotten up, and looked worried.
“Is everything all right?” Paul asked.
“Fine,” Justin said, and let the door shut. “Wake up, Dad. Dinner.”
No response.
“He’s had a few,” Paul said.
Well, it wasn’t dinner out, Justin thought, and went and shook Jordan, who didn’t respond, just moved away from him.
“I’m sorry,” Paul said.
“Not your problem,” Justin said. He walked over to the autobar, looked at the levels in the supply, leaned on his elbows on the counter and thought, Damn.
“If I can fix you something, ser,” Paul said.
Justin shot a look at Grant, and Grant stared back, then gave a nod.
“You sit down,” Justin said then, “and let Grant get you something.”
“I’ve had enough, ser, already.”
“When was lunch?”
Paul looked a little taken aback, looked at the clock on the minder, and failed to answer promptly.
“Breakfast?” Justin asked, while Grant proceeded about his business at the bar.
“We had breakfast,” Paul said.
“He knows what happened,” Justin said.
“He followed it, as much as we knew. The vid came on awhile ago, said it was the all‑clear. Do we trust that?”
“We trust that,” Justin said. “Young Ari’s fine. She’s running ReseuneSec, and between you and me, we’re a bit safer this afternoon than we were this morning.”
“I hope so, ser.”
“I know we are.” He watched Grant hand Paul a glass of something clear, water, or vodka, not immediately evident.
“Drink this,” Grant said. “Paul.”
Paul took it. Paul was the soul of politeness and quiet.
“Paul,” Justin said, “sit down. Please. We want to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk, ser. I’m sorry Jordan isn’t able to go to dinner. I think it would probably be a good idea if you went on without us. Please.”
“Sit down,” Justin said, and sat down, himself, on the end of the couch. “Sit down, Paul. I want to ask you something. It’s all right. Sit down.”
Paul had known them both since childhood. And he did, slowly, sit down.
“My father’s put a hell of a load on you,” Justin said. “I don’t want to. I want to ask you, honestly, how are you doing?”
“Perfectly well, ser.”
“I’m not ser. I’m Justin. Remember. It’s just Justin and Grant. The way we always were. You used to keep us in line. You’d tell us when we were just a little over the edge. Didn’t you?”
“I did,” Paul said.
“Well, you can tell us now if we are. I don’t want to push you. But I’m pretty good at what I do. So’s Grant. And we all know Jordan’s got a problem.”
Jordan moved. Not coherently. He settled again, and Paul looked back.
“He’s all right,” Paul said. “It was a hard day.”
“He didn’t take it well, what happened today.”
“I know you say it’s all right,” Paul said, “but we don’t think so.”
Justin nodded. “I understand that. I respect it. I’ll tell you, though, I don’t like what I see.”
“I’m sorry, ser.”
“Because you can’t stop him? It’s not your responsibility to stop him. Paul. I don’t know how you could. He’ll do what he wants to.”
“It was just a hard day.”
“Every day’s a hard day,” Grant said. “It’s not your responsibility to stop him. Who’s the Supervisor?”
Paul made a lame gesture in Jordan’s direction.
“So when did you last ask him for help?” Justin said.
A shrug.
“You don’t, do you? Or you do, but you don’t make it clear to him. When’s the last time you did?”
“I don’t know. This is private, Justin, I’m sorry. It’s between him and me.”
“It was December 21, 2405.”
Paul just looked at him, appalled.
“Wasn’t it?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” Paul started to get up. Grant reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Listen to him, Paul.”
“The year after you got to Planys. What had you so upset, then?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
“Dad took care of it then. He handled it. He hasn’t handled damned much since. What changed?”
“I don’t–I don’t know. The isolation. The frustration. Things.”
“Paul,” Justin said, “you know I know what I’m doing. You know I’m family. I’d never do anything to hurt you, or Jordan.”