Taya found Alister's programming team, with the notable and worrisome exception of Kyle, desultorily arguing about a new program and keeping a close eye on the door. She left Gregor to tend Bolt and joined their table. It didn't escape her that the other programmers in the bar were watching Alister's team with open suspicion. Alister might have cleared the team's reputation with the lictors, but not in the court of public opinion.
Minding Cristof's request to avoid telling them about Kyle's possible kidnapping, Taya filled them in on everything else she'd learned.
"Slagside, huh?" Victor asked, his eyes narrowing. "Dangerous place."
"It's not much of a lead," she admitted, "but it might be worth looking into."
"Give me half an hour." The programmer stood, then stopped. Taya followed his gaze and saw Pyke and Cassi walking in, holding her armature and flight suit.
"You got it!" Taya leaped to her feet, then dropped back into her chair again with a wince. "Ouch."
"Yeah." Pyke was staring at Victor. For a moment the two men held each other's gaze, and then the icarus looked away, maneuvering the floating armature through the tavern to her table. "I signed out for it, too, so if you break it again, I'm the one who has to answer to my uncle."
"I won't break it," Taya promised, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.
"Better not." He grinned at her.
"Watch it," a programmer at another table growled, ducking Cassi's wings as she maneuvered around to join them. "This isn't a bird bar."
"Mouth off to me and you'll never get a letter again, punch jockey," Cassi warned him, leaning on the back of Taya's chair. She addressed her friend. "We're off work now."
"Good. Sit down." Taya made the introductions, then stood to inspect her armature. The programmer at the table behind them snarled and moved. Cassi put a leather-booted foot on his table and shoved it several feet away from them to give their wings more clearance.
"We've met," Pyke said, nodding to Victor.
"Taya was asking about a bar in Slagside." Victor paused. "If we're heading down there, I thought Scuro might be useful."
"You're friends with him?"
"We've had a few drinks together."
"I'd like to get to know him better. He's got interesting things to say about technological colonization."
"Did you hear him last week?"
"You mean his talk about the Cabisi?"
"Oh, Lady save us, they're conspirators," Cassi groaned. "If you two are going to talk spook stuff, do it outside."
"I'm so glad somebody else thinks that stuff is way outside normal operating parameters," Isobel said, reaching across the table and offering her hand. "If you get Victor started on politics, he'll rant for hours."
"Pyke's the same way," Cassi said, shaking hands with her.
"Pyke!" Taya said. "There's a hack outside, driven by a man named Gregor. He can take you and Victor on my tab, if you've got a long way to go."
Pyke nodded, deep in conversation with the dour programmer.
"I wonder where they're off to," Emelie said as they walked off together. "We don't need any more political trouble."
"Politics is always trouble," Lars muttered, with his chin on his fist.
Cassi waved to the bartender for another pitcher. Meanwhile, Taya tethered her floating armature to a table leg and inspected her flight suit. The physicians had exacerbated the damage Cristof had started, slicing the suit's leg open to help her out of it the day before.
"Do you think this can be fixed?" she asked, fingering the tear.
"Probably not." Cassi poured her a beer. "But as long as you aren't going airborne, a torn leg won't matter."
"I guess not." Taya sighed, running a hand over the oiled leather. "I liked this suit, though."
"Get the top cut into a jacket." Cassi grinned and stroked the fur draped over the back of Taya's chair. "Then I can borrow this."
"So, why are you here, anyway?" Emelie asked, in a challenging tone.
"Taya said we might be able to help you find the you-know-what," Cassi replied. "And I've never been in here before. It never hurts to try out a new bar."
"They carry an interesting liquor from Tizier," Isobel volunteered. "None of these other wretches will drink it. It's a kind of a spicy, anise-flavored rum."
"Wow." Cassi made a face. "Is it as bad as it sounds?"
"Worse."
"How much does it cost?"
"I don't understand why Kyle hasn't shown up yet," Lars sighed. Taya turned to him as Cassi and Isobel continued talking. "Do you think Vic was right? Could he have been working with the thieves?"
"All Victor said was that Kyle was a suspect," Taya corrected him. She wanted to tell him about Amcathra's suggestion, but she forced herself to stay silent. "Kyle struck me as an honest, responsible man. I don't think he is a spy."
"No, but I would have said that about Alister, too. I was thinking…."
"What?"
"What if Kyle got there before me and ran into them? Maybe they did something to him."
Taya tightened her hands around her metal tankard until her knuckles were white.
"If they did," she said, choosing her words with care, "he'd be too valuable to hurt. Anyone who wants an engine will want a programmer."
"Yeah, that's true." The big man looked thoughtful. "And Kyle's smart enough to let them know that, too. So if the lictors find the engine—"
"They might find Kyle, too. If the thieves have him. But he could be someplace else, couldn't he? Visiting family, or a girlfriend or something?" Taya echoed Cristof's words.
"Nah, Izzy asked at his brother's house. They haven't seen him."
"And the only person Kyle likes is you, Lars," Emelie said, standing. Isobel glared at her, but Lars just stared at his drink. "This is too depressing. I'm leaving."
"Are you sure?" Taya asked. "Cris — Exalted Forlore said he'd stop by tonight, if he can, to tell us how the investigation is going."
Emelie vacillated for a few seconds, then shrugged.
"Maybe I'll stop by later. But I can't stand sitting around here doing nothing."
"We'll send a message to your flat if anything changes," Isobel said. Emelie nodded and walked off, buttoning her coat. The tall blonde turned and patted Lars on the shoulder. "Cheer up. It'll be all right. A lot of people are looking for him."
"Let's order that anise drink," Cassi suggested. "Sounds like we could all use something stronger than beer, and if it tastes bad, it'll take our minds off our worries."
They sat around drinking and talking for another hour. Taya excused herself for a few minutes and went into a back room to change into her flight suit. She felt better wearing it, even if one leg flapped. By the time the city clocks struck six, Victor and Pyke had returned, looking satisfied and paying for Gregor's delayed meal. The coachman sat at a table by the door, keeping an eye on his hack, while the two men rejoined them.
"Where's Em?" Victor asked, dropping into a chair. Isobel slid the squat bottle of greenish-black liquor over to him. He helped himself to Lars’ small glass and poured.
"She went home," Isobel said. "She said she might be back later."
"Sure." The bearded man made a face and drank, then shuddered and refilled the glass, handing it to Pyke.
"Did you find out anything about the red door?" Taya asked.
"Nothing useful," the programmer said. Next to him, Pyke took a shot of the Tizier liquor and made a strangling noise, slamming the glass on the table.
"Lady and spirits above, that's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted," he gasped.
"Isobel collects bad drinks," Cassi said, laughing. "She says this isn't even close to the worst."
"Well, so far nothing's been worse than the fermented goat's milk," Victor agreed, catching his team-mate's eye. Isobel smiled at him, sharing a private joke.
Disappointed that they hadn't learned anything about the red door, Taya slumped in her chair. "Your friend wasn't any help, then?"
"Scuro gave us some advice about entering Slagside." Victor waved a hand. "We can go down and find it ourselves."
"You aren't worried about getting into trouble?"
"Three icarii, three programmers, and a hack driver walk into Slagside — it sounds like the beginning to a bad joke, doesn't it?" The bearded man chuckled and Pyke laughed out loud. Taya wondered if they'd been drinking at Scuro's. They seemed flushed with excitement. She shook her head, then glanced up as the conversation around them died.
"We are not here to arrest anybody," Lt. Amcathra announced, walking in. The bar's patrons muttered, looking askance as Cristof followed the lictor. A few of the programmers made awkward bows. Others just stared with shock at the castemarks on his bare face.
The two men brushed past the tables and joined them. The team and Cassi bowed. Pyke waved a hand vaguely in front of his face. Cristof ignored them all.
"You have your wings again." He sounded disapproving as he dropped his hands on the back of Taya's chair. "I thought the doctor said you were grounded."
"Oooh, the exalted's bossy, as well as a prude," Cassi said, her voice carrying as she stared Cristof in the eye.
Cristof's lips tightened, and Taya realized that everyone around the table was staring at him with various degrees of interest. A number of programmers at the other tables were gaping, too.
For a moment the outcaste and the icarus locked gazes. At last Cristof gave the same low, irritable noise that Taya recognized from their arguments past.
"I'm also a slagging pain in the tailset and very rarely sweet. Do you have a problem with that, icarus?"
"'Rarely’ sweet," Taya corrected. "You've worked your way up to ‘rarely,’ remember?"
The tension broke, and Cassi rolled her eyes while the others chuckled.
"'Sweet’ is a side of you I have not seen, exalted," Lt. Amcathra remarked, deadpan. "I have, however, noticed the other three traits."
"Then he is a prude," Cassi said, triumphantly.
Cristof leaned over the chair and gave Taya a faint, crooked smile.
"How are you feeling?" he asked in a low voice as Isobel offered the lieutenant some of the Tizier liquor. The Demican shook his head.
"All right. We've got some news and maybe even a lead or two."
"So do we. Why does your friend think I'm a prude?"
"Because you were asking about my former boyfriends."
"Oh." He glanced across the table at Cassi. "I should have known she'd talk."
"Not all the stereotypes about icarii are true, you know."
"I just wanted to know how many jealous exes I'll have to deal with."
Taya flushed, not sure whether to be annoyed or flattered. "The only person you need to worry about is Cassi. She'll make your life hell if she decides she doesn't like you."
"Lady help me." He brushed a finger down her cheek, then straightened as Lars hoisted two chairs over the table for the newcomers. The rest of the patrons in the bar were being incrementally shoved back to the walls.
"We cannot stay long," Amcathra objected, looking around. His eyes settled on Taya. "We have come here to pick you up."
"The Council approved Alister's reduced sentence," Cristof said, his voice tense with excitement. "I think it's the fastest I've ever seen them move."
"Cris." Taya felt her heart leap, and she gave him a smile of pure relief. Viera would be furious, and Alister probably didn't deserve to live, but Taya couldn't help but be happy for Cristof's sake. "That's great."
"Reduced to what?" Isobel asked.
"Blinding and exile," Lt. Amcathra replied. "Some people would call the sentence worse than death."
"Not Alister." Taya touched Cristof's arm, and he nodded.
"So." Lars sighed. "I guess that's good, then."
"It's good," Victor agreed. "But a lot of citizens are going to call it favoritism."
"Damn right it's favoritism," Pyke growled. "Doesn't sound to me like they even paused to discuss it. I hope the Council's ready for the backlash."
"Did you get the information you needed from him?" Taya asked, to forestall Cristof's irritation.
"We're on our way to see him now," he said, giving Pyke a hard look before glancing back at her. "I thought you'd want to be there."
"Us, too," Lars said, standing. "We're his friends."
"We are visiting the exalted to discuss a criminal investigation, not to celebrate his successful blackmail of the city Council," Amcathra said, chillingly.
"Sure, but it's a criminal investigation in which we're the primary suspects," the big man objected.
"Do you have any good reason to exclude us?" Victor challenged the lictor.
"You, of all people, should not annoy me, Mister Kiernan."
Victor and Pyke traded quick looks, and Taya felt a moment's alarm. What were they involved in, anyway?
"I might be more help than you think," Victor countered.
"We all know what's going on," Cassi pointed out. "And we all want to get the you-know-what back. You might as well make us useful, or we'll just hang around outside the station and follow you everywhere you go."
"I cannot stop you from doing that," Amcathra admitted. "But perhaps when it grows late and cold you will lose your enthusiasm."
"Keep hoping," Isobel said, smiling. Amcathra glanced at her, then inclined his head in acknowledgement of their shared northern heritage. Still, his next words were directed to Taya.
"Come, if you wish to accompany us."
"Absolutely." She untethered her armature and snapped the keel over her chest, leaving the harness straps secured. "Gregor's waiting for us, lieutenant."
"I'm afraid we've hired him away from you," Victor cut in. He gave her a significant look. "I'll pay for a different coach, if you need one."
"I'll take care of it," Cristof interrupted with a frown. Taya wanted to ask more questions, but the closed expressions on Victor's and Pyke's faces were enough to make her stay silent. They were up to something, and they'd gotten Gregor involved. She didn't want to know anything else. She grabbed her crutches and fur cloak.
Walking was much easier with the ondium armature carrying part of her weight, although she chose to sit next to the driver on their hired hack rather than try to jam her wings into a carriage with two grown men. They reached the Secundus headquarters in twenty minutes. Pyke and Cassi were already at the station, perched on the back of one of the iron benches by the street. Gaslight from the street lamps glimmered off their silver wings.
"Show-offs," Taya muttered, sticking her tongue out at them. Cassi winked.
"How's Viera?" Cristof asked, holding the door open as Taya ducked through. Amcathra strode up to Captain Scarios, handing him a formal-looking document.
"She's still angry." Taya set one of her crutches by the door. With her wings, she could maneuver with one. "Did you find anything about the crates and wagon?"
"We confirmed that something heavy went by on Froshcourse a little before midnight, and we're pretty certain the wagon passed through the sector gate to Tertius around ten in the morning. The hounds lost the scent after the wagon left the university gates. We've got military icarii sweeping the roads in case the wagon already left the city, but security's been high ever since the bomb went off on the Tower ferry, so we think it's more likely that the thieves are lying low."
"Risky," Taya said. "Someone could find them."
"They'd be taking a risk either way; they'd have to know we'd monitor the roads as soon as the theft was discovered. One good thing is that the weather's in our favor. The thieves will have to leave Ondinium within the next two months, before the passes close. We can step up security until then."
"But what about Kyle?"
Cristof pushed up his glasses, looking at the two lictors. "He's one of the reasons the Council agreed to Alister's deal. Kyle's one of the city's top programmers, now that Alister's been arrested."
"What were the other reasons?"
"The prototype's important, and they want Alister's information about the Alzanan spy network."
Taya sensed from the way he was avoiding her gaze that he wasn't telling her everything.
Lies of omission
, she reminded herself.
"What else?"
He lifted a shoulder.
"I agreed to give them all of the work Alister was keeping at home, instead of handing it over to the newspapers with an exclusive interview."
"You would have done that? I don't believe it."
"I also promised to donate the remainder of Alister's inheritance to the Council coffers. I didn't want it anyway."
Taya narrowed her eyes. He still wasn't looking at her.
"And what else, Cris?"
He sighed and pulled off his glasses, pinching the arch of his nose.
"They need me to dress like an exalted again. But it won't be as bad as before."
Taya stared, shaken.
"You said you wouldn't."
"Don't get angry until I can explain."
"You promised you wouldn't go back." Gwen's warnings came back to haunt her. "You told me you were never going to wear a mask again."
He looked at her, his spectacles dangling from one hand. He seemed strangely vulnerable without glass and silver between his eyes and her gaze.
"I had a choice between keeping my promise to you and saving my brother's life," he said, quietly. "I did my best to respect both. Will you trust me a little longer? I don't know if you'll approve of the deal I made, but it's not—"
"Exalted? Icarus?" Captain Scarios interrupted them. Cristof gave her a long look, then slid his glasses back on.
"Not all the stereotypes about exalteds are true, either," he said, stiffly.
Taya hesitated, then nodded, once. Fair enough.
"You're going to tell me everything," she warned him. He adjusted his frames and picked up her other crutch as she limped past.
She was startled, at first, to see that Alister was waiting for them in a chair. His public robes were draped around him and his blank ivory exalted's mask hid his face. The robes were heavy with jewels and embroidery, their hems folded on the floor and draped over his lap to hide his hands and feet. His mask looked like every other exalted mask she'd ever seen, a smooth ivory disk with slits for the eyes and a wave mark shining on one cheek in inlaid gold.
She'd never seen Alister in his public robes before; but then, she'd never seen him in front of strangers, either. Neither Amcathra nor Scarios were permitted to see an exalted unmasked.
"Alister." Cristof stepped forward, then dropped his eyes. "I talked to the Council. They've agreed to reduce your sentence to Neuillan's, in exchange for your assistance." He dragged his gaze up and held out both hands, palms up. "The paperwork's already in the captain's hands. But if you agree, you'll forgo your right to trial. You'll be automatically admitting your guilt and accepting exile from caste and city. Starting now."
For a very long minute the figure in the chair didn't move, and Taya wondered if it were even real. Maybe Alister had managed to set up a mannequin and escape. But then, at last, the exalted's arms rose, his hands still covered by draped material. Embroidered hems touched the sides of the mask and lifted it away.
To Taya, the gesture only seemed full of melancholy, but both Scarios and Amcathra leaned forward. She glanced at them and was taken aback by the awed, almost guilty fascination on their faces as they stared at the exalted's naked face.
Alister set the mask into Cristof's waiting hands. His cheeks were flushed, and Taya realized that he felt humiliated at being unmasked in front of a lower caste. For the first time in her life, she understood how privileged she was to be an icarus. For her, this forbidden sight was a matter of course.
"It's better than dying," Cristof breathed, holding the mask. The two brothers were staring at each other, Cristof with a peculiar expression of pity and Alister with a tense expression of shame.
"It looked easier, when you did it."
"It wasn't. But you'll survive, just like I did."
"What did they make you give up, to save my life?"
"Nothing that was mine to begin with."
Taya wanted to object, but she ground her teeth together and stayed silent.
Will you trust me a little longer? he'd asked. All right. She'd give him a chance to explain before she got angry about it.
Before she let anyone else know how angry she was about it, she amended.
Scarios cleared his throat, an oddly polite interruption for the brusque man. Alister tensed, not looking at the lictor.
"Your part of the deal is to spill everything you know about who stole the engine," the captain reminded him.
"Has anyone been arrested yet?" Alister asked, his voice and bearing taut. He'd dropped his hands back in his lap, the folds of his robe still covering them.
"Kyle's missing," Taya said, limping forward. For the first time his green eyes flickered up and registered her wings, and when he looked at her, she thought some of the tension in his face eased. "Was he working with the thieves, or was he kidnapped by them?"
"If anyone's working with thieves, it would be Emelie," Alister replied.
"Not Victor Kiernan?" Amcathra sounded surprised.
"Victor's a nonconformist, but he isn't a thief," the exalted answered, still looking at Taya. She nodded, encouraging him to continue. "But Emelie's always been dissatisfied. She got through the University by cutting corners and cheating on tests. She's a good programmer. You can't fake that. But she wants to be rich, and she doesn't want to work for it."
"You two were lovers." Taya couldn't help the note of accusation in her voice.
"She thought she could get special favors that way." Alister raised an eyebrow, his green eyes still fixed on her. "It worked until I got tired of her and broke it off."
"Nice."
"Do you have any proof she's involved?" Scarios asked, cutting in.
"I never said I had any proof. Just suspicions." He never looked at the captain.
"What about the Alzanans?" Cristof pressed.
"All the data on them is in my office." Alister shifted his gaze to his brother. "There's a cabinet with my punch cards inside. At the bottom of Resources and Allotments is an envelope with Neuillan's cards. Anyone on my team should be able to read them without sending them through an engine. They aren't encrypted."
"Cassi and Pyke can get them," Taya suggested, looking at Cristof. "And Victor said the team was going to be waiting outside—"
Cristof nodded, already reaching into his pocket. He handed his keys to Amcathra.
"You can walk out there faster than Taya," he said. Amcathra gave him a cool look, then turned and left the room.
"I'd like to see my team," Alister said, looking at his brother. "May I?"
Cristof turned to Scarios.
"Another day," the captain said, tersely.
"Did the information say anything about a bar down in Slagside?" Taya asked. "One with a red door?"
Alister shot Cristof a look.
"A red door means it was a brothel, not a bar," Cristof said, looking uncomfortable.
Taya frowned. "Wouldn't a sign be better advertising?"
"Only for the literate," Alister pointed out. Cristof seemed discomfited by the entire subject. Maybe he was a little bit of a prude.
"You know, I deliver messages for some of the most prestigious brothels on Secundus," she told him. "But they have signs."
"I didn't know prostitutes conducted their business by mail," Cristof muttered, his cheeks flushing.
"There was a brothel listed among Neuillan's contact points," Alister said. "I remember it because I'd wondered if Neuillan had ever delivered messages there. It would have made quite a sight, a covered exalted entering a brothel in Tertius."
"The Alzanans who tried to steal my wings meet there, too." Taya felt a leap of excitement. "If we go, we might catch them."
"
We
?" Captain Scarios frowned at her. "Don't get carried away with yourself, icarus. A raid is lictor business."
"And you're injured—" "Your leg—"
Alister and Cristof glanced at each other and fell silent.
"All right," Taya surrendered. "But I think it's a good place to start."
"Emelie wouldn't hide in a brothel," Alister said.
"We don't know for sure she's involved." Captain Scarios straightened. "You got anything else, Forlore? I was expecting something more useful."
Alister looked at Taya. "Emelie has family in Cantery, but I doubt she'd try to hide there. It's a two-day walk from the city, and I don't think her family is wealthy enough to be much help to a fugitive."
"We can still send an icarus out to ask questions," Amcathra said, from the doorway. Scarios nodded.
"She's attracted to power," Alister added, "so if you find the ringleader in this theft, you'll probably find her, too. She'd stay close to him to make sure she gets her share of whatever reward has been promised."
"That it?"
"I said from the beginning that all I had was speculation."
"Huh. Hardly seems worth your neck. I hope something in those records of yours pans out." The captain's gaze was cool. "Since you accepted the plea bargain, I've got the authority to move you to a regular cell. Enjoy your soft bed tonight; it'll be the last time you sleep on it."
Alister's copper cheeks grayed.
"Do you know when the… the sentence will be carried out?"
"Not yet. You'll get a few days’ warning. More than your victims got."
Taya shifted, biting her lip. She understood Scarios’ anger, but she couldn't help but feel sorry for Alister.
"I'll try to visit tomorrow," Cristof said, awkwardly.
"Good luck." Alister held his gaze. "Don't let anything happen to our little hawk."
"I'll do what I can."
Taya gave them both a disdainful look and limped out the door.
Cristof caught up with her as she stood on the station steps, looking up in the sky for some sign of Pyke or Cassi. It was dark already. Lars, Victor, and Isobel were inside, talking to Amcathra and Scarios. About Emelie, she presumed. She set her crutch against the wall and leaned against the iron railing.
Cristof stood beside her, close enough for the hem of his greatcoat to brush her legs.
"So, tell me about this deal of yours," Taya said, after they'd both stood looking at the stars for a long minute.
"There are some benches about half a block down the street. Do you want to walk with me?"
"There's a bench right there." She nodded to the bench at the bottom of the steps, where Pyke and Cassi had been waiting for them.
"I'd rather discuss this in private."
"I wouldn't."
Cristof looked down, and Taya saw that he was still holding his brother's ivory mask. He turned it over once, then slid it into one of his coat's capacious pockets.
"All right." He looked back up at the sky again. "The Council wanted more than vague promises of information in exchange for Alister's life. I offered them the Forlore estate and told them I'd be happy to retire with my shop down on Tertius, but they turned me down. They said I'd be more useful to the city if I took up my role as an exalted again."
Taya turned to watch him. His face was easy to read in the light from the station windows and the gas lamps that lined the streets. She'd expected that he'd look guilty or upset, but he only looked determined.
"I told them I wasn't willing to live under the restrictions of caste. I told them everything I told you. And they said that was exactly why I could be useful to them. They need an exalted who's willing to take off his mask in front of foreigners."
Despite herself, Taya's interest was caught. She grasped the diplomatic implications at once. "You're going to be the exalteds’ public face."
He nodded, finally risking a glance at her.
"I wouldn't be replacing the icarii. But Ondinium has had a lot of trouble with other countries because exalteds won't speak to foreigners. Negotiations have to go on between foreign ambassadors and icarii envoys, which is slow and awkward and apparently offensive. The Council thinks that if they call me a ‘special liaison’ instead of a caste pariah, they can smooth over some of the problems they've had in the past. I'd dress up to put on a good show for the ambassadors and foreign dignitaries, but then I'd take off my mask and talk to them face-to-face, instead of doing all my business through icarii."
"That's smart." Taya frowned. "Really smart. They didn't just think it up, did they?"
"I doubt it." He turned to her. His grey eyes were steady. "I imagine the Council's been waiting for an excuse to force my hand for a while. If it weren't in exchange for Alister's life, it would have been for something else."
Taya gave him a wry smile.
"You'll make a terrible ambassador, Cris."
"I know. I was hoping you'd help me."
"I don't think I could stand having you as my boss."
He shook his head.
"We'd be partners. Envoys are usually sent abroad for a year or two to immerse themselves in a foreign culture. While you were telling me about the diplomatic corps at lunch, I kept thinking that if you joined it, I'd lose you. So when the Council made this offer… if you pass your exams and get sent to Si'sier, I could travel with you. The Council likes the idea of its new ambassador making a tour of the embassies." He cleared his throat. "Of course, it all depends on whether you could stand traveling with me. I know I'm not an easy person to get along with. But you… you seem to manage better than most."
Taya looked up at him and slowly smiled. "I asked to be assigned to Cabiel, not Si'sier."
"I'm sure the food will disagree with me no matter where we go." He hesitantly reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "So. Will you forgive for going back on my word?"
"I suppose," she sighed, glad that she hadn't let him know how angry she'd been. "As long as you don't make a habit out of it."
He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, then kissed her.
She slid her hands into his greatcoat and under his suit jacket, letting the flaps of his coat fall around her like great black wings. Cristof's angles felt warm and comfortable. He bent over her, one hand sliding around her waist beneath the metal bars of her armature keel, and the other running up through her curls. Their lips touched again, lingering this time. He pulled her closer.
A shrill whistle interrupted them. Taya looked up and saw Cassi and Pyke both landing in the street. Pyke glowered at the exalted, but Cassi just locked her wings up and slid her goggles into her hair.
"Making out is easier without the armature," she advised, climbing the stairs.
"Mind your manners," Pyke warned, jamming a finger at Cristof and giving him a hard look as he followed Cassi inside.
Cristof looked at Taya and adjusted his glasses.
"If we'd walked down the street…. "he said meaningfully.
"I'd still be wearing my wings." Taya pulled him down for another quick kiss. "Someday you have to take me on a real date, instead of dragging me around to lictor stations and crime scenes."
"I tried a real date," he pointed out, straightening. "Lunch, remember? And Lars showed up. Trouble follows me."
Inside, the station's waiting room had become crowded. Victor, Lars, and Isobel were inspecting the cards and scribbling notes. Pyke and Cassi sat backward in their chairs, watching from the sides with the lictors. Scarios, leaning over Victor's shoulder as the programmers worked, ignored Taya and Cristof as they re-entered the station. Amcathra glanced up at them.
"A successful hunt?" he asked Taya, in Demican.
"Very funny." Taya dropped into a chair next to Cassi.
"The Forlores have a nice house," Cassi said, her eyebrows rising. "He doesn't look rich."
"He doesn't live there anymore. But I think he'll be moving back soon."
"Uh-oh. Is that bad?"
"No." Taya smiled. "I think it's going to be all right."
"You know, if she's a suspect now, shouldn't somebody search Emelie's rooms?" Lars asked, looking up from his notes.
"Do any of you have keys?" Cristof patted his hair, smoothing down the locks that Taya had disarrayed outside. The three shook their heads.
"It seems you will have to go back to work now, exalted," Amcathra said. "I believe your kit contains the appropriate tools for this job."
"Do you have a writ of entry?"
In a few minutes Amcathra called Scarios away to put a seal on the paperwork. As soon as the wax seal cooled, Cristof tucked it into his coat.
"I'll go with him," Cassi volunteered, pushing the chair away and hopping to her feet. "I can courier messages back and forth faster than he can walk."
Cristof looked skeptical. Cassi gave him a charming smile.
"Besides," she added, "I'm looking forward to getting to know you better. Our conversation this afternoon was so one-sided."
He looked to Taya for help, but she just winked. Cassi would be relentless.
The exalted scowled and walked out, jamming his hands into his pockets.
"Lieutenant, I want an icarus team sent to Cantery, and send a message to the captain of Tertius that we're going to be mustering a team down there," Scarios said, glancing over the programmers’ shoulders. "Tell him we'll want ten lictors, armed."
"We are running short on nightflyers," Amcathra warned. "We have four at Oporphyr and four searching the mountain roads. If I send two to Cantery, we will only have one team left in the city."
"That's enough."
Amcathra began pulling out fresh sheets of paper.
"That's it," Isobel announced, collecting the notes from everybody and handing them to Scarios. "We put a star by the brothel you were asking about."
"Good. Lieutenant, as soon as you're through." Scarios turned and walked back to his office. When Amcathra finished sending lictors off with orders, he turned and vanished into the office after his superior officer.
"So, do you think Em really did it?" Isobel asked, at last. Both Victor and Lars shrugged.
"She has a selfish streak," Victor said at last. "But to accuse her of theft on this scale…."
"If she hurt Kyle, I'll wring her skinny neck," Lars growled.
"They always got along," Isobel said. "I don't think she'd do anything to him."
But her accomplices might,
Taya thought, worried. She hoped the thieves understood how valuable Kyle was to them.
"So, does anyone else have any dark secrets they want to reveal?" Lars demanded, glowering at Isobel and Victor.
"Most of my secrets aren't mine to share," Victor said, fingering his beard. "I've been arrested a few times for protesting. You know that."
"Have you?" Taya asked, turning to Pyke and glaring. He raised his hands.
"I can't afford to get arrested. Programmers are given more leeway than icarii."
"Don't you drag Pyke into anything illegal." Taya shot Victor a stern look. "He can't afford to lose his wings."
Victor shrugged. "Social criticism isn't illegal."
"I don't see what either of you two have to criticize. You're both lucky to be living in Ondinium," Taya said.
"True." Victor raised his eyebrows. "But you can love something and still want to clean up its routines, can't you? Make it safer, fairer, more generous—"
"Alister thought the same thing."
"I don't think lasting change can come from an analytical engine."
Taya looked at Pyke, who was avoiding her gaze. Sighing, she promised herself they'd talk about it later. She didn't want him falling in with a dangerous crowd.
"And you know everything about me," Isobel said, looking at Lars. "The worst thing I've ever done was climb through the provost's window, and that was your fault."
Victor chuckled, and even Lars smiled.
"Why'd you do that?" Taya asked.
"Oh, it was silly." Isobel's blue eyes twinkled. "The university provost had this old difference engine everybody used to joke about — it was hardly better than an abacus. So one night I entered his office and opened up the door for these guys. We pulled out his engine's front panel, removed the mechanism, and replaced it with a cage full of white mice."
"The next day none of his programs ran." Lars picked up the story, grinning. The cards just dropped through the feeder slot and landed in the empty box we'd rigged up inside. So he sent over a complaint that his DE was broken and making strange squeaking noises. The dean of the school of engineering came to his office to find out what was wrong."
"We were in class, but apparently the dean opened up the front panel, took one look at the cage, and demanded to know how long it had been since the provost had fed his mice." Isobel giggled. "The provost began stammering that nobody had told him anything about feeding mice and that he was sure it was his secretary's job."
"Were you ever caught?" Taya asked, after they'd finished laughing.
"No, never. The dean kept the mice as pets."
"We couldn't have done it without Izzy," Lars said, nodding in her direction. "She scaled the brick wall to the provost's office as easily as I'd climb a ladder."
"And now that leaves you." Victor leaned back in his chair and gazed at Lars. "What are your dark secrets?"
"I don't have any secrets," the big man said. Victor and Isobel traded looks. He became defensive. "Clockwork Heart was broken, and you know it!"
Victor shrugged. "Hey, I don't care who you sleep with."
"Well, I do!"
"My mother told me that Demican warriors had hunt-partners," Isobel said, not quite looking at Lars. "Usually men with men and women with women. They had to like each other's company enough to spend weeks in the wild together under dangerous conditions. Most of the time they only shared furs when they were on the trail, but some hunt-partners lived with each other all their lives."
"How nice for the Demicans."
They fell silent, Lars with his arms folded over his chest, sulking. Taya wondered why he was so upset. Belonging to a caste with a reputation for moving as freely from bed to bed as it did from sector to sector had its disadvantages, but at least nobody ever made a fuss over who an icarus slept with.
Voices heralded the officers’ return.
"We appreciate your help," Scarios said, looking around at the programmers. "You can go home now. We'll contact you if we find Miss Wilkes or Mr. Deuse."
"We'd just as soon wait." Isobel looked up. "At least until Exalted Forlore comes back."
"We'll keep out of your way," Victor added. The captain was already shaking his head.
"We can tell you about the engine," Lars said, grasping at straws. "Your men wouldn't know AE components from a box of broken clocks. You'll need one of us along to tell you if you've found the right crates."
"I think we can—" Scarios broke off as Cassi burst through the door. The pockets of her flight suit were bulging, and she walked straight to the table and began pulling out slender boxes of cards.
"Pyke, he's walking up Trisent and he has a bag full of boxes," she said, over her shoulder. Pyke nodded and left without a word. She looked up at the lictors. "Emelie wasn't there, so we took all her notes and cards, in case any of them were important."
Lars gave the captain a triumphant look and picked up one of the boxes. In moments the three programmers were thumbing through cards and dropping boxes on the floor.
"I think she left," Cassi said, turning to the captain. "A lot of her clothes were missing, unless she's got a smaller wardrobe than Taya."
"Hey!"
"Give me a few minutes and I'll bring back whatever Pyke can't carry," Cassi continued, grinning at her friend.
"Do you want me—" Taya started to stand, but her friend pushed her back into the chair.
"Stay off your leg."
"You know, someday you're going to be the one who's grounded."
"And I'll be smart enough to spend my time in bed reading lurid love stories and having handsome guys wait on me hand and foot," Cassi shot back, heading out the door.
"Forgefire, Em must have saved every program she ever wrote," Lars groaned, closing another box and dropping it on the floor.
"Not all of these are hers." Victor tossed a box to the ground. "Some of these are class demos, and this looks like Alister's work."
"I doubt any of them are important." Isobel frowned. "Emelie was sneaky. She wouldn't leave anything significant behind."
"Look anyway," Scarios ordered. The programmers shrugged and turned back to their work.
Pyke returned with more cards and a bundle of letters that he handed to the captain.
A few minutes later, Cassi came back and unloaded more letters and papers. Amcathra handed bundles to each icarus and the few lictors who remained.
When Cristof finally walked in, the station was quiet, everyone busy reading.
"This is strange," Isobel remarked, turning a box upside-down. Small flecks of bright metal rained down onto the table top. Everyone pressed close to look at it.
"Copper," Victor said, picking one of the tiny pieces up on a fingertip.
"Punches," Lars burst out. "That's punch chad!"
"Great Engine cards are made out of tin—"
"But Torn Cards aren't," Cristof said, grimly. "The Torn Cards mark each of their attacks with half a copper punch card."
The three programmers looked at each other, dumbfounded.
"Well, so much for your theory that a Torn Card would rather throw a bomb than learn to program," Victor said at last, turning to Isobel.
"But a Torn Card would have put a bomb in the university lab, not stolen an engine," she insisted. "It doesn't make any sense for Em to be a Torn Card."
"Well, she had access to the right tools to punch a card," Lars said, looking up at the captain. "And I suppose she couldn't leave copper keypunch droppings around in our chad box where we would see it. She probably brushed it into whatever program she was working on at the time."
"Do you think she vandalized the wireferry?" Pyke asked, speaking up at last.
"She couldn't have. She was with us the night before the accident," Isobel said. "We were all working late, even Alister."
"What about the refinery bombing?" Taya asked, remembering her hurried night flight to the site of the disaster. "That was the Torn Cards, too, wasn't it?"
"No card was ever found, but the rubble hasn't been cleared away yet."
"She wasn't with us that night," Victor mused. "None of us were working. Alister told us he needed to spend time with his cousin, since she was still recovering from the scare, and we all decided to take the night off."
"But women don't plant bombs," Isobel reminded her friend. Victor sighed.
"Well, that bomb didn't kill anyone, did it? Maybe a woman would plant a bomb if she knew it was only going to cause property damage."
"You're so narrow-minded. Women can make as much of a mess as men."
"The refinery never made sense," Scarios said, looking at Cristof and ignoring the two programmers. "Octavus is a legitimate target for terrorists, but refineries are low-technology. The Cards prefer high-profile vandalism."
"Was the explosion ever investigated?" Cristof asked.
"The case wasn't closed, but with everything that happened afterward, it wasn't given a high priority."
"Maybe someone should take another look down there, just to make sure we didn't miss anything. The refinery wasn't owned by a decatur, was it?"
"No. We checked the obvious leads. It belongs to one of the Big Three mining companies. Nothing screwy in its records."
"It could have been a disgruntled worker," Victor suggested. "Labor isn't very happy with the Big Three."
Scarios waved off the suggestion. "Right now, I don't care about the refinery. The only thing that matters is that your friend was either a Torn Card or working with Torn Cards, and that makes this investigation a lot more urgent. We have to move down to Slagside."
"Can we—" Victor had barely started before Scarios was shaking his head.
"You've done your part. Now it's time to step aside," he said, his tone brooking no disagreement. "The Torn Cards are violent. I'm not going to involve civilians."
"What about us?" Cassi volunteered. "Could you use some overhead reconnaissance?"
"Sorry, icarus, but you haven't been trained to fly in a firefight. Under other circumstances, I might be tempted, but this time I can't take the risk."
The argument continued another minute, but Scarios was adamant, and he and Amcathra were already issuing orders to the lictors left in the station.
"Exalted." Scarios turned at last to Cristof. "I want you to stay here, too. You're too important to get killed by crossfire."
"I'm not—"
"You're an exalted, you're a key witness in your brother's case, and this is lictor work. The Council would bust me back to Tertius gate guard if you got hurt."
Cristof seemed to consider the captain's words. Taya held her breath.
"All right," he said at last. "But I think I'll run by the refinery on my way home, just to double-check."
"There something you're not telling me?"
"No. I'm just bothered by the fact that the refinery was vandalized so soon after the Torn Cards attacked the wireferry."
Scarios gave the exalted an evaluating look, and Taya could tell he was thinking the same thing she was — that Cristof was desperate to find something to do that would take his mind off his brother. Then the captain shrugged.
"Do you want a lictor?"
"No. You'll need all the firepower you can get."
"All right," Scarios said, turning away. "Lieutenant, let's go."
Amcathra lingered, his pale blue eyes resting a moment longer on Cristof.
"What are you thinking?" the Demican asked, as the captain headed out the door.
"The refinery isn't that far from some of the contact points on Neuillan's information."
"It's not that far from where I was nearly mugged, either," Taya said.
Amcathra glanced at her, then back to Cristof.
"Do not risk yourself or the icarii."
"Don't worry, lieutenant, we'll protect him," Cassi said, with a small smile. Pyke grunted, less pleased by the prospect.
"Send one of the uninjured icarii to inform me if you discover anything."
"I will."
Amcathra gave a brusque nod and followed his captain.
The only people left in the Primus office were the night clerk and themselves.
"We want to go search the refinery with you," Isobel said, gesturing to Lars and Victor next to her. "We can be your backup if something goes wrong."
"That won't be necessary," Cristof demurred.
"We're not as helpless as you might think," Victor added. He shot a glance at Pyke, who nodded. "I can explain better when we get back to Gregor's coach."
"It's a long walk to Tertius," Cristof pointed out. "I live there, so it isn't inconvenient for me, and Cassilta and Pyke can fly back. But for the rest of you, it's a meaningless journey that could keep you out past lockdown."
"If I go with Gregor, I can get them through the gates," Taya said.
"Look, we want to help," Lars added. "I understand not taking us on a raid, but what's wrong with poking around an old factory? If we find one of those torn punch cards, we'll be helping the investigation, right?"
"Kyle is our friend," Isobel added. "Anything we can do to help find him, even if it's just closing off loose ends, will make us feel better."
Cristof let out a long, exasperated breath and pushed up his glasses.
"If any of you get hurt, I'll be held responsible."
Pyke's eyes narrowed. "Don't patronize us."
"But you're not lictor caste—" Cristof stopped abruptly, but not before Cassi snapped back, " — and neither are you."
"Taya?" Cristof gave her a pleading look. She shrugged.
"I don't want to go home and spend the night tossing and turning, either."
"All right." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, under his spectacles. "But please do what I say. I'm licensed to work for the lictors, and if you investigate with me, I'll expect prompt obedience."
Pyke muttered something about expectations and Cassi rolled her eyes, giving Taya a meaningful look.
"That's fine with me, exalted," Lars said. Isobel nodded. Victor hesitated, then inclined his head.
"Bossy," Taya teased. Cristof frowned and she raised her eyebrows. "Whatever you say, exalted."
"You should stay here, Taya. You've already put too much strain on your leg today."
"I grew up in Tertius, right around that area, and I fly over it all the time to visit my family. I know it better than anyone else here, and I can tell Cassi and Pyke what to expect in the air. Do you have a sector map?"
"But your leg—"
"It's going to hurt whether I'm flying or in bed, and you're not leaving me behind." Taya pushed herself out of her chair to stand. "When all of this is over, I'll do whatever you say. But right now, you aren't the only person here who needs to stay busy."
Cristof glowered. The rest of the group fell silent, watching with interest.
"Whatever I say," he repeated, dangerously. "Is that a promise?"
Taya wavered a second. Then she considered the possibilities and smiled.
"When this is over — yes."
Shaking his head, he strode back to the offices.
"Better watch out," Cassi said with a grin. "A repressed guy like that…."
"You're the one who said he's a prude."
"Prudes are the worst, once they loosen up," Isobel pointed out. "Or maybe I should say ‘the best'?"
Taya laughed, torn between embarrassment and amusement.
"I can't believe you like that guy," Pyke complained. "What's so attractive about a skinny, glasses-wearing outcaste?"
"Oooh, listen to the pretty boy." Cassi patted Pyke's head. "Jealous again."
"Hey, remember, Taya asked my advice about that guy's brother. I said ‘leave him alone,’ and he turned out to be a murderer." Pyke folded his arms over his chest. "I'm one for one right now."
"The exalted is all right," Victor said. "He has integrity."
"He'd better," Pyke muttered.
A moment later Cristof returned and spread a map out on the station table over the discarded punch cards and letters. They leaned over it and began to work out their route.