“So he’s the biggest unclaimed piece on the board,” Michael continued. “He could shift the balance…”
Gaul shook his head, looking grim.
“It’s worse than that,” he said flatly, looking at the boy. “The conflict won’t be limited to the Hegemony and the Black Sun — every individual cartel will want him for their own — and they’ll all make their own play for him. Think of the advantage, the prestige they could gain…”
“Chaos, then,” Michael agreed. “With everyone making a play for our Alexander, here.”
“And the easiest play,” Vladimir said frankly, “is to simply eliminate the boy.”
Both other men looked at him, surprised.
“What? It’s true,” Vladimir said dismissively, “you said it yourself, Gaul. The danger of him joining another faction is greater than the advantage to be gained by having him join their own, if you are playing safe.”
“It’s true,” Gaul said, in the definitive way that both men knew meant he had just checked the probability threads. “The chances of him being killed are quite high.”
“Some of the less conservative types will try and make a play for him,” Michael mused, “using whatever they can. Bribes, intimidation…”
Vladimir snorted.
“They will use girls, fool,” he scoffed. “He is a teenage boy, after all. Young love will work far more effectively than indoctrination.”
Michael felt obscurely grateful that Gaul was not moved to confirm the probability here, at least out loud. He was extremely fond of the Director, but at times his detachment and his frankness made him uncomfortable to be around. Sometimes it was sort of like trying to be friends with a computer.
“Then the Hegemony will probably use Emily Muir, she’s perfect for this,” Michael said thoughtfully, then grinned. “Maybe it’s not so bad to be Alexander, after all…”
Vladimir laughed. Gaul smiled mirthlessly and then shook his head.
“Why do we not then make him one of your Auditors, Gaul? Surely, whatever his other attributes, he has the potential. You are allowed six, yes? And last I heard, you have only four…”
“I thought the same thing,” Gaul replied sourly. “I’ve been running numbers all morning looking for a way to just that. He certainly has the potential for it, assuming we can salvage him. And it would exempt him from the machinations of the cartels. But, it wouldn’t work.”
“Why not?” Vladimir demanded.
“The Hegemony and the Black Sun — they’d both regard it as poaching,” Gaul said hopelessly. “They’d claim we were recruiting at an unfair advantage, taking the best of the potential Operators before they’d been admitted to the Academy, before they’d had a chance to be introduced to any of their ideologies. They’d see it as a violation of the Agreement, and they’d be right. There’s no precedent for it.”
“They’d use it to attack the Academy? Or us?”
“Us, probably.” Gaul said, shrugging. “Both sides would probably prefer to see a more sympathetic administration at the Academy. It’s particularly bad timing, too. This would be far less complicated if Anastasia Martynova wasn’t currently at the Academy. That the future head of the Black Sun would be in the same class as Alexander, should we choose to admit him, is a particularly bad break for us.”
The room was quiet then, for a moment, with only the labored breathing from the hospital bed to break the silence.
“Then, if I understand correctly,” Vladimir began, looking cunning, “the problem is that we cannot make this boy an Auditor, unless he first attends the Academy?”
Gaul nodded slowly, looking at the grey-haired man’s smile and trying to understand.
“Once he is a student, he is free to choose for himself, yes?”
“After he completes two full years, same as any other student,” Gaul allowed.
“The solution is simple, then. We make sure that he decides to become an Auditor, and there is no problem,” Vladimir shouted, delighted.
“I’m not sure that it would be that easy…” Michael began, with a touch of exasperation in his voice.
“It’s a possibility,” Gaul said distantly.
“We protect him, from the cartels, from everybody,” Vladimir insisted, leaning toward Michael to look at him directly, his pale blue eyes sparkling from within wrinkled folds of tired skin. “We make sure that they can’t get close to him, that they can’t brainwash him to see things their way.”
“How do we know that he will choose what we want him to?”
“You are his teachers, yes? Teach him. It should help,” Vladimir pointed out, “that we are in the right.”
Michael smiled.
“There is another possibility,” Gaul said reluctantly, his eyes on the floor.
“Who rescued Mitsuru and this boy?”
“Henry North. Of the North Cartel, affiliated with the Hegemony,” Gaul added, his voice again distant and mechanical.
Michael shook his head. His friend’s habit of constantly accessing his network uplink to answer routine questions bothered him. He wondered if Gaul had any faith at all in his own mind, unassisted.
“There is no other possibility,” Vladimir said, folding his arms, “if one faction is already aware of him, then the others are too, or will be shortly.”
“They are not aware of his potential,” Gaul said quietly, still looking down.
“You are certain?”
Gaul paused, and then shook his head slowly.
“Then there is no other possibility,” Vladimir said defiantly.
“There is, though,” Gaul insisted, “and it has to be decided by vote, by the Board. And right now. We have no idea how long we can keep this kind of information under wraps.”
“Assuming it even is under wraps,” Vladimir muttered. “You know how far little Anastasia has worked her claws into the Hegemony. If they know about Alex, then she does, too.”
Michael gave the two empty chairs in the room a significant look.
“What about Rebecca and Alistair? What do they think about all this?”
“Rebecca is handling some negotiations in the Philippines. Alistair is manning the comms right now, and he’ll get in contact with her as soon as we are ready to vote. I’ll relay their decisions,” Gaul said, finally looking up, cold and impassive.
“Very well,” Vladimir said. “Let me remind you both that you are teachers, not butchers. If all we see in these children is risk, then we, and the Academy, have wholly failed.”
“How do you vote, Vladimir?”
Gaul’s voice was hollow when he asked the question, obviously relaying the decision to the Etheric archive.
“Admit him.”
“Michael?”
Michael hesitated for a moment and then shook his head.
“It could undermine everything we’ve done here. But it’s not in my nature to write the kid off, no matter what his story is. Vladimir’s right, we admit him.”
There was a brief pause, and then Gaul spoke again, robotically.
“Rebecca also votes to admit. Alistair abstains. Majority vote for admission. For the record,” Gaul continued, “I vote for termination.”
Michael didn’t bother to disguise the shock he felt when he looked at Gaul. Vladimir clucked and had a sour expression. Gaul looked down for a moment then, and when he spoke again, it was in his normal voice.
“I’m sorry,” he said apologetically. “It’s very important to make sure the record is complete.”
Michael sighed and shook his head.
Five
Alex knew he was in a hospital before he opened his eyes, from the soft beeping sounds, the starched white sheets against his skin, and the pervasive antiseptic smell. Given the dull, insistent pain in his back and abdomen, and the more immediate pain in his forearm, that seemed like the right place for him to be. Alex rested a bit longer, comforted by the various chimes and chirps of the hospital electronics. He wondered briefly how he would pay for all this, and then put it out of his mind with an effort. After a while, he decided to try opening his eyes.
He was not expecting the huge dreadlocked black man next to his bed, wearing an immaculately tailored grey suit and brilliant red tie, looking at him with an expression that managed to convey concern and amusement simultaneously. Alex hadn’t figured on anybody being there, but if he’d expected anyone, it would have been the cops. And this guy, with his ridiculous grin and his beautiful suit, he was definitely not the cops.