The Cathedral in the centre of Farlight is so virus-ridden it has sunk into the caldera floor on which OctoV’s capital is built. It sits, faded and half melted facing Zabo Square. Cafes line the square around it, and a statue of a young woman sits under a colonnade a hundred paces away from where I am standing. She is made of bronze, and naked, obviously. Statues in Farlight always are.
The statue bears a striking resemblance to the girl next to me. At least, the face does. I can’t swear to the rest of it.
‘My great-grandmother,’ says Aptitude.
I look at her.
‘She was sixteen.’
There are things about Farlight I don’t understand. How the rules work for the high clans is one of them. What kind of family puts statues of themselves naked in public for the entire world to see?
But knowing I don’t know is a start.
Ask me six months ago and I would have said the rich and powerful don’t work to any rules at all, because they don’t have to . . .
It’s not true. They have rules. Just weird ones.
Where I come from if someone injures you, then you kill them. Provided it’s serious enough. Round here, you invite them to a party and then patronize them to death. Aptitude has to tell me what patronize means.
I look at her to check if she’s joking; she’s not.
Aptitude is good with words. She’s good at cooking too. She has taken over the kitchens at Golden Memories; and now people actually come to eat, instead of regarding eating as an inconvenient fuel break between drinking and fucking.
Only we’re not in Golden Memories.
As I said, we’re standing outside a cafe on Zabo Square, in the shade of an umbrella, looking at a bronze girl with perfect breasts and a smile that is missing from the face of the young woman beside me. Aptitude is shaking. It’s not from the cold, because the sun is so hot that sweat drips down the inside of my jacket.
The last time either of us was here, she had just got married. And shooting her husband was my first job for the general. As far as we know Jaxx thinks she is dead. Her ex-husband certainly is. But in that case . . .
‘I don’t know,’ I tell Aptitude.
She looks at me, eyes made large by fear.
Neen is outside the cathedral waiting for me. He is in full uniform, as are the rest of my troopers, minus their rifles. It’s not just us; everyone invited to this afternoon’s service is minus their weapons.
Paper Osamu has been strict about this.
As U/Free ambassador to this section of the spiral she will not attend any function at which weapons are displayed. Although my gun is the exception. It has full citizen status under U/Free rules.
When it’s pointed out that Paper’s demand means no one can wear swords, she says the rule doesn’t apply to ceremonial weapons. Apparently, swords aren’t dangerous, they’re decoration. Shows what she knows.
Although who knows what Paper Osamu knows? Not me.
I don’t want to know, either. Sure, she is beautiful, intelligent and ambitious. She has the body of a teenage hooker, matched to the morals of an alley cat. This usually works for me. But she also has the mind of a snake.
And her grandfather is the new U/Free president.
It’s a titular role, obviously. That means he has no real power. But then nor do the U/Free if you listen to Paper Osamu. They’re just sweet lovely people who want to help the rest of the galaxy find peace and harmony, learn to love art and live for ever.
‘What are you thinking?’ asks Aptitude.
‘About Paper Osamu.’
‘You-’ She blushes. ‘Didn’t you?’
I nod.
‘Why?’ Aptitude has grown in the last few months. Either that, or she’s been storing up questions. She asks them with a new confidence. It comes, I guess, from having to cope on her own while I was away.
‘It was expected.’
She stares at me.
‘Also,’ I tell her, ‘I needed information.’
‘And that’s how you get information?’
‘One of the ways,’ I say. ‘You can learn a lot in bed. Who pays protection? Who demands it? Places not to go . . . Seems the rules that apply at my end of the scale apply at the other.’
Aptitude sighs when I say this.
‘Officer on deck,’ shouts Neen, as I approach.
As one, the Aux snap to attention.
A militia major glances across and begins to scowl. Then he sees my arm, which is piston-driven, but minus the spikes, and recognizes my face. He lets me go into the cathedral first.
The Aux have places at the back.
Aptitude has a seat. It might be behind a pillar and on the outer edge of a nave, but it is a seat . . . And that’s more than half the crowd have in this place. As for me, I stamp my way to the altar step and take up my position beside General Jaxx.
‘Sven,’ he says. ‘How good of you to join us.’
We’ve kept him waiting, I realize. We’ve kept them all waiting. From the look on the general’s face, he regards this as a huge joke. I’m glad; he could equally regard it as a shooting matter.
‘Your niece is here?’
I nod, my expression flat.
He smiles. ‘You,’ he says. ‘A family man. I can’t tell you how surprised I was. And to fly her halfway across the spiral like that . . . Our glorious leader told me,’ he adds, seeing my surprise.
‘OctoV?’
‘We are but falling sparrows in his eyes,’ says the general.
I’m still trying to work out what the fuck that means, when a wind blows through the cathedral and the lights flicker. In my throat, the kyp goes berserk, as the air begins to taste of electricity.
OctoV could enter quietly if he wanted to. But why would he bother? When he can appear in the centre of a storm, and have even the U/Free blinking and wondering what the little psychopath is up to this time?
Sven, says a voice in my head.
I snap to attention.
That isn’t kind. After I lied about Aptitude for you.
Everyone looks at me. Well, the general, the archbishop and all those choirboys who have been shooting glances at the bishop up to this point. There are days when I want to burn this bloody city down.
Believe me, says the voice in my head. There are days I want to burn it down too. But it’s the only one I have. This isn’t true. OctoV rules ten thousand systems. He has more cities than I’ve had whores.
Maybe, the voice says petulantly. But this is the only one I like.
I wait for the punchline and inside my head OctoV laughs.
It’s a terrifying feeling.
You’re right, he says. I don’t even like this one that much.
I want to wipe sweat from my skull, but I’m damned if I’ll give OctoV the pleasure. This time when he laughs everyone hears it. He looks about twelve and sounds younger. From what Colonel Vijay says, this is his first public appearance in more than a hundred years. ‘Well,’ says OctoV. ‘I suppose we’d better get on.’
Stepping up to General Jaxx, our glorious leader extends his hand and waits for the general to sink to his knees. I sink to my knees behind him. Although I’m not important enough to kiss the emperor’s hand.
At OctoV’s suggestion, I’m replacing the general’s ADC for the day. Reward for my part in overthrowing an evil Uplift plot. My rank of lieutenant is confirmed and the Aux now have official status. We’re going to be paid. Although I’ll believe that when it happens. I’m also officially part of the general’s staff, which allows me a second twist of silver braid.
The general’s rewards are more impressive.
General Jaxx is now Duke of Farlight. As of last night, fifteen families have gone into exile at this sign of imperial favour. His political enemies are crawling over one another in their desperation to become his friends.
If I were OctoV, I’d be afraid of putting this much power in the hands of one man. Particularly a man like General Jaxx.
But I’m not OctoV.
The choir does what choirs do, loudly and endlessly. Although I can see from the faces of those around me that they find it delightful. OctoV makes a speech in which he thanks Paper Osamu for her understanding.
He means for overlooking the fact an Octovian mother ship suddenly uncloaked in Uplift space. And then he does something strange. Our glorious leader stares out over a congregation made up of empire ministers, courtiers, generals and heads of the trading families, and calls my intelligence officer to the front.
Being Haze, he trips on the steps to the altar rail.
OctoV smiles indulgently.
‘Fuck,’ says my gun. ‘Now what?’
Everyone around us is far too polite to notice.
At a sign from the emperor, Haze removes his helmet and shakes free two braids, which drop around his shoulders. This part of OctoV’s speech is short, to the point and brilliant. The Enlightened might discriminate against Octovians, but Octovians do not discriminate against the Enlightened. Haze-ben-Col chose to serve OctoV in an elite sub-group of the Death’s Head.
That’s one way of putting it. And the general, at least, isn’t happy with that description. Although he swallows his expression quickly enough.
But OctoV has a new job for Haze. He’s to be our ambassador to the U/Free. When OctoV says this, Paper Osamu blinks. And then she smiles, twisting her lips into something close to amusement and nods approvingly. She’s impressed, and the whole galaxy can see she is impressed because we are all on lenz.
Kneeling, Haze takes a letter of introduction.
As he stands again, he catches my eye and for a moment looks apologetic. But I know how these things go. So I step back, to give myself space, and come to attention, saluting smartly.
It’s worth it for the appalled expression on his face.
‘Swings and roundabouts,’ says OctoV. ‘Swings and roundabouts.’
A wind is rising around him. The lights in the cathedral have gone back to flickering. We know our beloved leader is about to disappear before our eyes. Well, I do, and the others do if they have any sense.
Stepping back, the new Duke of Farlight joins me in a salute. We wait at attention until the wind drops and the lights come back up and we realize we’re saluting an emperor who is no longer there.
The crowds clap. An organ breaks into a tune I vaguely recognize. And the general’s real ADC rushes forward to escort General Jaxx out of the cathedral. The glare Leo Thomassi shoots me is poisonous.
‘It’s all right,’ says my gun. ‘He doesn’t want your bloody job.’
‘Don’t you?’ asks the general, turning back.
The ADC looks worried. Whether at being the centre of attention or from fear he’s about to lose his position is hard to say.
‘No, sir.’
‘Why not?’
‘All that standing around being smart, sir.’
‘Are you for real?’
What kind of question is that? ‘Yes, sir,’ I say. ‘Damn near humanoid original, apparently. Apart from my arm. That’s metal . . .’
The general barks with laughter. He’s still furious that OctoV talked to me direct. Perhaps he’s even worried about what our glorious leader might have said. But he no longer looks like he wants to put me up against the nearest wall.
That’s a start.
‘You,’ the general tells his ADC. ‘Wait outside.’
The whole crowd watches the major march for the door. Because the whole crowd freezes where they stand. No one can move until the new Duke of Farlight leaves the cathedral. Not even Paper Osamu.
‘His job is yours,’ says General Jaxx. ‘If you want it.’
Keep your friends close. And your enemies closer. ‘Thank you, sir, but no . . .’
‘And if I order you?’
‘Then I’ll do it, sir.’
‘To the best of your ability?’
‘I do everything to the best of my ability, sir.’
He looks at me and smiles. ‘You’re a fool,’ he says. ‘There are senators willing to pay thousands in gold to get their sons on my staff.’ The general jerks his chin towards the door through which his ADC has just vanished. ‘I took both his sisters in payment, plus a country estate.’
‘I don’t have an estate,’ I tell him. ‘And my sister is dead.’
General Jaxx sighs.
‘Go home,’ he says. ‘Get drunk, get laid . . .’ We could be alone for all the attention he pays those around us. ‘You’ll be called when I need you.’ He turns to go, and then turns back one final time.
‘Sven,’ he says. ‘There’s been talk of a new crime syndicate, based out in a brothel on the edge of the landing fields. Ruthless, efficient, unforgiving. You wouldn’t know anything about that?’
‘No, sir.’
He nods. ‘Thought not.’