Impact Velocity (The Physics of Falling) Page 17

  It felt like hours, days in which neither of us even breathed.

  “Eight.” I raised my head but he wasn’t looking at me. “That was what they called me.” He straightened, brushing away wrinkles in his shirt. “Eight.”

  And then he walked into the forward compartment, leaving that peace offering like an unexploded bomb at my feet.

  So quickly I was powerless again.

  iv37

  We traveled for some hours. Anger and humiliating helplessness washed over me. It was almost unbearable.

  Only days ago I had been crowned emperor, and now I was nothing again. Discarded as easily as any unclass. I kept my hands in my pockets so no one would see them shaking.

  Dawes paced in the back cabin, with Jonathan always nearby, accessible, as was proper for a servant. And yet there was something different between them now that was hard to define. It wasn’t the cold distance of betrayal. It was more like the comfortable familiarity of friends. It was wrong, and strange. Yet somehow I also felt a pang of jealousy. In the face of his losses Dawes still had someone. I looked away, staring at navigation controls that meant nothing to me, trying not to think about loneliness.

  We docked, finally, at a small, grubby, dilapidated marina that the nav said was in Mexico. Not the closest approach to Mexico City, but not far from it, either. I scowled in disgust.

  “You’re going to hide us exactly where everyone expects him to be?”

  Jonathan’s expression was cool, and that of a man to an equal, not a middle class former servant to a noble. “Yes. Exactly where they’ve already looked.” He held my gaze for a long time, and when I didn’t reply he continued. “In any case, we’re not going to Prince Jacob’s estate, or where anyone would think he would choose to be.”

  I glared at him but decided not to say any more. I had agreed to this ridiculous scheme, and I would not let them see a coward.

  “Here,” Jonathan said, handing us each a small device. “Stick it in your pocket and activate it. It’s a holo-disguise.” Dawes and I both took them. I nearly choked when Dawes suddenly changed from a relatively young man to a homely old woman. He wore a smirk that made me think my disguise must be similarly ridiculous, and I scowled. “This way,” Jonathan said, gesturing for us to disembark.

  Dawes gave a sharp nod of his head. “Lead the way.”

  ***

  We were scant moments on the docks before we entered an empty warehouse. There we passed through a hidden door and into a tunnel. It was plain and nondescript, with no markings to indicate its purpose or any destination. It might have been anywhere in the empire. We walked several hundred meters before another door came into sight. This one was locked. At Jonathan’s direction we deactivated the disguises.

  He keyed in a code on the pad by the door and we waited in silence. There was nothing identifiable about the woman who joined us in the tunnel, emerging from a door behind us that I hadn’t seen. She had no distinguishing features, no discernible racial influence, and she wore gray from head to toe. Even her hair was gray. She didn’t speak to us at all, merely handed Jonathan a tablet. He turned to Dawes and me.

  “Before you can go any further, you must swear and document your promise not to reveal this location, or anything about those who maintain it, their activities, and their organization.”

  “What do you need?” Dawes said. I gritted my jaw.

  Jonathan extended the tablet to Dawes. “Swear that in exchange for their help, you will reveal to no one anything you know about this location, the people who have helped you, their confederates, their methods, resources, and plans. You will protect their secrets as your own under pain of death.”

  Dawes nodded without further complaint, placing his hand on the tablet to record his agreement. A flicker of a wince passed over his face before he pulled his hand away.

  “That also implanted a passive tracker. It is usable to no one or nothing that does not have the highest clearance among this group. But should you break your vow, it gives them the ability to find you and mete out the consequences you just agreed to.”

  My breath caught. Dawes stared at Jonathan for a long moment. Jonathan merely stared back. “You wouldn’t betray the people risking their lives to avenge your husband and protect you, would you?”

  “No,” Dawes replied in a hoarse whisper.

  “Then you have nothing to be concerned about.” He gave Dawes a wry look. “It has a limited lifespan. It will need to be refreshed over time if you continue to work with them.”

  “How long?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “If you knew, it wouldn’t be very secure, would it?”

  They exchanged private smiles. “It also enables me to find you, should we become separated.”

  Dawes huffed. “You could do that anyway.”

  Jonathan turned to me and I backed away before I could stop myself. “No.” My voice was too strained. “Absolutely not. I will not allow you to implant a tracker in me. A termination device.” It came out in a rasp and I forced myself to breathe deeply, find some measure of calm. “No. I am not a fool.”

  He and Dawes exchanged looks between them. Adrenaline and anger rushed through me like a summer thunderstorm, raging and powerful. “No,” I said, firm and sure. “I will not put myself so entirely under the control of anyone, much less a group of traitors.” I looked at their faces again, so still and uncompromising. My resolve weakened even as my heart rushed faster. “You ask too much.”

  Jonathan’s face softened, and my anger flared. I didn’t want his pity.

  “Look,” he said, his voice gentle but insistent. I couldn’t help but glance at the tablet he held out in front of me. “It is a temporary but necessary safety measure for people who take a great risk helping you.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes away from the display. Temporary, he’d said. I wouldn’t be so vulnerable forever. Unless it was a trick. A trap. I examined Jonathan’s face, but what did I expect to find? I knew better than to believe what I might see in his expression.

  I took a deep breath. I didn’t have a choice. I could do this and enter the safe haven on the other side of that door, or I could refuse and be left out here alone, to fend for myself for as long as I managed to hide from those searching for me with the full resources of the empire.

  I slammed my palm against the tablet, almost knocking it out of Jonathan’s grasp as it recorded my scan and inserted the tracker. I closed my eyes briefly and then forced myself to open them.

  “Very well, it is done. Proceed.”

  The woman in gray wore a pinched expression but didn’t look at me. She turned back to the door and entered a code in the pad, scanning in the data from her tablet. With a clank the doors opened and we proceeded.

  On the other side things were subtly different. There was still no declaration of what this place was, or where it was taking us, but it began to look like it belonged to something. A door here, a computer panel there. Nothing declarative and everything locked down, but it was clearly a place with a purpose.

  In a small garage a few hundred meters past the door, we found a transport. The woman gestured for us to enter.

  We sped along for an hour before she parked and we all got out. There were no more identifying marks in this part of the tunnel than there had been before, and I wondered how much longer we’d travel this way. I didn’t ask, because I had a feeling I was the only one who had no idea where we were going.

  Fifteen minutes of walking brought us to another door. We were required to submit to a biometric scan, one that no doubt looked for the implant as well, before we were allowed to pass through.

  On the other side was a war room. Everywhere were vid screens and terminals and panels, all active and in use. Five or six people bustled about, intent and purposeful. All of them stopped to look at us when we entered, but unlike the gaping, common response I expecte
d, most simply went back to their work once their curiosity was satisfied. One woman, however, wearing the plain blue colors that seemed to be their uniform, approached us.

  It was Lady Chou.

  I realized then that there were many ways to betray one’s country, one’s friends, and oneself. I wasn’t sure which one I was doing anymore.

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  I stared at her. “How in the empire did you get here?” I demanded.

  She smirked at me. “You mean, after you confined me to your estate so your associates could easily find and kill me at your convenience?”

  I didn’t bother to reply to that. There was an edge to her voice that made me sure she knew exactly how much control I’d really had over anything since my release.

  Her grin grew wider. “So interesting to find you here. Among the rabble.”

  I refused to take the bait.

  “You are TG?” Dawes asked. It meant nothing to me.

  She gave him a considering look. “I am not. Not for lack of willingness. I simply haven’t the resources to set up and maintain an operation like this.”

  “Who does?” he asked.

  “I do.” I recognized the voice even before Lord Naganika came into view, a smile lighting up his face.

  “Lord Naganika?” Dawes said, his tone somewhat relieved. It occurred to me then that Dawes would have last seen Naganika before, or perhaps just after, the emperor’s murder. I wondered what he would think if he knew everything of the man that I did. “You’re TG?”

  He essayed an ironic bow. “I am.”

  “What does it mean?” Dawes asked. Naganika raised a brow in question. “Your alias,” he clarified.

  He smiled. “It’s a long story.”

  “Did Pete know about this?” Dawes pressed. I wished fervently that he would stop with the inane questions and get to the root of the issue: that we were fully in this group’s power and we needed to know who exactly they were, what they were doing, and what that meant for us.

  Naganika pursed his lips. “I would never wager on Rikhart IV being ignorant of anything. But if he knew, he didn’t tell me.”

  In the silence that followed, Lord Naganika nodded to me. “I’m am glad to see you are alive and unharmed, Your Excellence.”

  Dawes made a rude noise, thought it was clearly for the title and not the sentiment.

  “What do you know of all this?” I demanded. Naganika’s fluctuating loyalties frustrated me, and it made me angry that I’d begun to trust him, before. “What is Laudley doing now?” I doubted he was unaware, but I added, “He has the children.”

  Naganika’s expression was somber. “Yes. I know. And I apologize,” he looked around, “to all of you. I was not aware Laudley was tracking the emperor.”

  “Blaine,” Dawes said, and we all looked at him. “You mean he was tracking Duke Blaine.”

  Naganika’s eyebrows rose, but he stepped back as I closed on Dawes. “I’ve had enough. If you want to snip and snipe at someone for holding a position of power then perhaps you shouldn’t have married an emperor.”

  There was a long silence. I expected fury, that he would even try to hit me again, but his shoulders sagged.

  “Pete was always an emperor. Even when I didn’t want him to be. He was born to it and he was wonderful at it. No, I don’t respect anyone who would aspire to be an emperor at the expense of others. But that’s not what he was, or what he did.”

  Every eye in the room was on him, and there was respect, uncompromising and unanimous. I looked away, unaccountably jealous. Of Dawes, no less.

  I sought Naganika. “What will Laudley do now that he has the children?”

  In the heavy pause that followed, Naganika sighed. “I can only tell you what little I know, and what I suspect.”

  “Then do it.”

  He met Dawes’ gaze rather than mine. The acknowledgment of his right to the children rankled me. “They have returned to the palace. He intended for it to be quiet, but there were too many people involved. It is known among the guard, and I expect it will soon be known by many more, that both Princess Marquilla and Prince Owen are in residence again. I believe both children are safe for now.”

  Naganika turned to me. “Prince Owen is safe because the Grand Duke needs him, and Princess Marquilla because the Grand Duke knows he will lose Prince Owen if he acts against the princess.”

  That all of these people knew more about my son than I did, that they knew I needed them to explain how my son would react, doused the rest of the anger I was sustaining myself with. “So, what now?” Dawes asked, his tone bordering on sarcastic, as if Naganika were avoiding what was truly important. Naganika seemed to accept that without questioning it.

  “My guess is that he will acknowledge the return of both the princess and Prince Owen, and that he will not deviate from the expectation that the throne is Princess Marquilla’s by right.” He paused. “For Laudley, that is a small enough detour from his original intention. She will need a regent as Prince Owen would. Laudley intends to be that regent. He has many years to bend her to his will, or, if he fails at that, to find a quiet and convenient way to be rid of her.”

  Dawes sucked in a breath. Naganika met his frantic gaze. “He would only harm himself to act against her now. He has too much to lose and almost nothing to gain.”

  “Nothing?” Dawes demanded, incredulous.

  “Nothing,” Naganika insisted. “There is no one to challenge him for the regency now. Especially in light of the fact that the princess has no close relative available.”

  “And he will kill us as soon as he finds us,” Dawes said flatly.

  Naganika nodded to him. “That goes without saying.” He looked at me, “Though Emperor Regent Enryn’s death would have to be quiet and easily explained away.” He focused on Dawes. “You, he wants to dispose of publicly. He intends to have you executed for the crimes you have been accused of on record.” Into the silence he continued. “It is a convenient setup for Emperor Regent Enryn to disappear now. He can easily claim that you took your revenge before the emperor could be rescued, and lay Emperor Regent Enryn’s death at your feet.”

  “He’s not dead,” Dawes protested stupidly.

  Naganika’s reply was quiet. “He could be.”

  A long moment followed, in which everyone digested that information.

  Jonathan was the one who spoke. “We have things to decide now.”

  ***

  I gestured to Naganika that I intended to speak to him. His eyebrows quirked upward for a moment but quickly he nodded and followed me to a corner of the room. I wondered which face of Naganika that I’d seen so far was closest to the real one, and where his loyalties truly lay. I imagined they were with himself.

  He turned to me. “Your Excellence?”

  I frowned. “I think we both know that I am merely Your Grace, at best. Considering the circumstances.”

  He gave me a nod of acknowledgment, with no opinion or judgment apparent. I forced myself not to rub at the spot on my palm where they had inserted a tracker that would allow this group of people—this man—to kill me as easily as Laudley might wish.

  “You seem to be a man of many allegiances,” I said. “I’m not sure what I can expect from you.”

  He smiled faintly. “I am a man who would see the empire strongest and at its best. Is that not explanation enough?”

  “It’s no explanation at all. The throne of the empire is constantly in transition these days. You support whoever manages to claim it for an hour or two? It’s the same as supporting no one. I would know where you stand before I can work with you.” He glanced at my hand, and I resisted the temptation to rub it.

  He regarded me frankly. “What choice do you have, Duke Blaine?” I froze. “What choice do I have? If I am to be useful to anyone I must appear to be useful to everyone. There are many
who would take sides in this. And there must be. Some cannot survive if others don’t fail. If I am smart, I can remain a vital piece in everyone’s game. That isn’t just self-preservation, Your Grace. I can only work toward my goal if I am alive.”

  “As can I!” This time we both glanced at my hand. I burned with indignation. “You will have to pick a side some day.”

  “Why do you assume I haven’t?” he replied almost sadly. “If I am lucky, I won’t live to regret it.” He gave me a funny smile. “Your life is safe in my hands, Duke Blaine. I’m sorry you doubt that.” He stood, bowing to me with the proper affectation of respect. “May I go, Your Grace? There is much work to be done now.”

  I waved him away, disgusted and shaking, wondering which one of us was wrong.

  ***

  The clock said night had fallen long ago, but there was neither day nor night in these tunnels.

  Lady Chou turned to me, a look of amusement on her face. “How are you enjoying the hospitality of Abenez, Your Grace? You have only to climb the stairs to find a large population of those displaced by the great fire many years ago.” Her gaze was piercing, as if she blamed me for the fire. She was not wrong. I didn’t deign to answer.

  “You have found sustenance and shelter among the unclass.” Her eyes glittered with malice, and I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. She frowned and pressed on. “You should be grateful that the fire did not kill everyone, and that they allow you here among them.”

  I stepped closer, needing to reclaim some measure of power, even if it was only illusory. “Does that bother you, Lady Chou?”

  She seemed unsure of what to do with my response. “It doesn’t surprise me that they would shelter you,” she snapped. “Only that you do not disdain their generosity.”

  I looked at her for a long moment. “I think there is work to do now, my lady.” She gasped in surprise and I turned away, savoring my small triumph.