Impact Velocity (The Physics of Falling) Read online

  We survived it, we were stronger for it, and things in the empire began to change.

  Twice already the parameters of the classes had been changed so that the low and middle classes were broadened, and the unclass reduced. At the same time, job classifications had been restructured so that many more jobs were available to the lower classes, with higher pay. The restrictions on newly up-classed families had been reduced. We hadn’t touched the nobility, and the high class only fractionally, but it was a start. A very, very good start. Especially because the backlash over the first changes had been manageable.

  The popular reaction to the second round was more severe, but brief. People in general were already forgetting that things hadn’t always been the way they were. Though I doubted those who had been moved out of the unclass would ever forget.

  I was between projects at the moment, or so I told myself. In truth, I was puttering around with some tangents to my earliest theorems. I’d had Owen in the lab with me, showing him the work that had produced the Dawes Laser before I was nine.

  He was at other lessons that day, and I was well into my work when Molly entered the lab. She climbed up onto the stool beside me.

  “What are you doing here, Mol?”

  She propped her elbows on the table. “Papa said I could come see you.”

  That was odd. Pete respected my work hours the way I did his. He normally would have asked.

  “Why did you want to see me?”

  She sighed, as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. It made my chest tighten to realize that, in some ways, it already was. “Are you going to let them take Owen?”

  I blinked. “Am I going to let who take Owen?”

  “Owen’s grandaddy said when he turned eight you were going to make him take a test and maybe people would take him away then.”

  I clenched my jaw against the first reply that came to mind. There were words in it I didn’t want my daughter to learn yet. “Owen’s grandaddy misunderstood. No one’s taking Owen anywhere. No matter what tests he takes or doesn’t take.”

  “So Owen’s grandaddy lied?”

  “He misunderstood, that’s all.” There was a different answer I wanted to make to that.

  “So no one is going to take Owen?”

  It wasn’t like Molly to need the sort of reassurance Owen did. She usually took you at your word and was content.

  “What’s the matter, honey?”

  “Owen’s grandaddy said since you weren’t born here you didn’t always understand how things work.” Her voice got quiet. “They came and got you.”

  Ah. She’d known that already, but maybe Laudley had connected the dots for her. I put my arm around her.

  “I wasn’t born in the palace, so things were different for me as a little boy. When I was eight and they chose me for the IIC, my mommy didn’t get to say yes or no. But it’s not like that for you and Owen. No one can do anything to either one of you without getting permission from me or Papa, and they’re not going to get it. No one’s going anywhere. This is our family and that’s not going to change, ever.” I squeezed her close. “Why don’t you go see what Papa says about that?”

  She gave me a satisfied nod. “I already did. That’s what he said. I just wanted to make sure you understood too.”

  I snorted, amused, and kissed her on the top of the head before she scrambled off the stool and out of the room. I shook my head. Owen was such a wonderful part of our lives. Why did his relatives have to be among our greatest trials?

  Do you really have to meet with Naganika today?

  Why?

  Molly’s just come up with some crazy scheme for a scavenger hunt and she wants us to come.

  Later? I’ve put Naganika off twice now because of Molly’s crazy schemes.

  So he should understand. I’ll apologize to him for you.

  Because I can’t?

  Because it’s more my fault than yours. And I like him. I’m glad you picked him.

  iv7

  The next day was Owen’s birthday. Pete’s and Molly’s birthdays were imperial holidays, but the celebration at the palace held for Owen’s birthday was hardly any less spectacular. The children spent the morning on the palace lawn, with every noble child who could manage to be there. They rode exotic animals and ate tiny little creature-shaped cakes so intricately crafted they almost looked real.

  Lunch was to be a formal affair. The family and those privileged to eat at the head table with the emperor gathered together in one of the sitting rooms just outside the great dining hall. There was always a fair amount of simply waiting for these things, though others called it socializing or politicking. I occupied myself with the kids. I supposed someday I would get good at this part of the life of the emperor’s consort, but seven years of marriage had only taught me to tolerate it and to play nice.

  When we entered, Laudley was already there. He’d cornered Pete’s Head Minister. Lord Naganika had held the position for almost a year already, following Lord Sifer’s retirement.

  “But clearly it is unsustainable,” Laudley said. “You have seen that yourself.”

  “I don’t agree,” Naganika replied, clearly trying to maintain the pretense that he was only chatting with Laudley while giving his attention to the frail Lord Sifer.

  Laudley cast a look over his shoulder and saw me. He gave me a malicious grin. “Ah,” he said to Naganika. “Naturally you support the emperor’s policies. Loyalty is admirable. But do not forget you are also his advisor. Considering other points of view is not disloyal and may make you more valuable to him.”

  “I think, in this instance,” Naganika said, his voice level, “the emperor’s position is quite clear and not up for debate.”

  Naganika caught my eye and smiled.

  I liked Naganika. Lord Sifer had handpicked and trained him. I’d first met Sifer at the IIC, right after I had condemned Director Kagawa to Resettlement with a few careless words. I’d been afraid of him then, but over time I realized that his forbidding manner was a natural reserve refined by long practice at disguising his reactions. He’d served Pete’s grandfather, and father, and now Pete for more than two decades. By the time he’d pronounced my sentence at my execution-turned-beating-and-exile, I was almost sorry I wouldn’t be seeing him again.

  He no longer lived at the palace, but he had come for Owen’s birthday, as he did for all the important events. Naganika was his protégé and was rarely far from him when Lord Sifer was visiting.

  Naganika nodded politely to Laudley and left Lord Sifer’s side to greet us. After the proper bow to Pete and Molly, he ruffled Owen’s hair. “Heard you caused quite a stir yesterday,” he said with a grin. “No injuries, I see. Not even a paint smear.”

  Owen gave him a shy smile. Naganika turned to Pete. “I spent a good bit of my morning reassuring Lady Efe that Gannon wasn’t in any trouble with you.”

  “And was she reassured?” Pete asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Keep an eye on that, please.”

  “Of course, Your Excellence.”

  Pete gave him a nod of approval before he stepped away to speak to Lord Sifer. Molly slipped her hand into mine. “Daddy—”

  It was the sharp intake of breath and odd grunt that made me turn. I looked at Pete. He had the most peculiar expression on his face. Surprise, and a slight grimace. A guard stood close behind him, his gaze on Pete intense, focused. Pete jerked forward, his eyes going wider, his mouth open. His gaze came up and met mine. He looked more confused than anything else.

  His knees gave out and he slumped against the guard. As he slid to the floor, suddenly I understood. I flew across the room in time to catch his head before it hit the floor, just as other guards were tackling the man behind him.

  With Pete’s body angled across my lap, I could feel the cold horror of the bla
de sticking out of his back, and the liquid warmth against my leg. “Pete?” I breathed, afraid to move, to even speak too loud.

  His eyes rolled up to meet mine. He drew in one painfully ragged breath and was still.

  ***

  Hands were tearing at me. “Your Highness!” rang, echoed, and rattled about in my ears even as my head spun with the sudden movement as I was hauled to my feet.

  “No!” I shoved and fought against my captors. “Pete!”

  “Please, Your Highness.” Sam’s deep voice rumbled in my ear as he clapped a hand over my mouth and others crowded me on all sides.

  “No.” The word was stuck behind Sam’s hand and I tried to jerk away, struggling against his hold, fighting him, this, something. Wanting that simple denial to do something more, mean something more. To take back what was happening.

  “I’m sorry,” Sam said. Blinding pain stabbed through my side and my vision went black as the world slipped away from me.

  I love you.

  I know.

  iv8

  The familiar sights of the emperor’s sitting room whirled past and away, giving way to the simpler lines behind the door to the servants’ corridor.

  “Here’s Owen,” a voice said. I struggled to right myself. I was moving but not under my own power.

  “Daddy!”

  I jerked hard against the hold on me at the sound of Molly’s voice.

  “She’s fine, Your Highness,” Sam’s voice vibrated within my head. He was carrying me like a baby.

  “Put me down.”

  “One more minute,” he said, not slowing or changing his hold at all.

  “What’s going on?”

  “We made it look like you were attacked too, so we could get you away. We’ve got the children. You’re all safe now, and you’ll be out of anyone’s reach very soon.”

  I tried to focus bleary eyes and looked down to see that my shirt was soaked with something the color of blood. It was drying, itchy on my neck.

  “All safe?” I said. “But not Pete.”

  He took several long, uncompromising steps before he answered.

  “No. Not the Emperor.” I wanted to bury my face in his chest like a child. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, they caught us by surprise.”

  “But you got me.”

  “They went for him first.”

  Of course they had. The days of someone trying to kill me before Pete were in the past. When had things changed so much that someone was willing to assassinate the emperor?

  Pete was dead.

  I was set roughly on my feet, jarring the thought away for all of half a second. The room spun around me as I got my balance. My head hurt a lot.

  “I used a stunner to knock you out,” Sam said. “I’m sorry, they’re not designed to be gentle. You’ll likely have a headache for a bit unless the doctor’s got something for you.”

  “I’ve always got something,” Dr. Heinriksen’s voice cut in. I focused on her with a rush of relief.

  “Doctor,” I breathed, grabbing her arms. “Pete?”

  She lowered her eyes as if looking for something in her bag, though I could see she already held the patch in her hand. She avoided my gaze again as she pressed the pain patch to my neck below the ear. I grabbed both of her hands, thin and bony now, the skin sagging and soft.

  “Doctor!” I squeezed. “Pete?”

  With a sigh she met my eyes. There were tears in hers.

  “I’m sorry, Jacob,” she whispered. “The knife was infused with acid. There was nothing left for me to repair.”

  The room spun around me and I felt Sam’s thick hands on my arms again, holding me upright when my knees would have given out.

  “Daddy!” Molly rushed at me, burying her face in my leg. Owen was right behind her. He went pale at the sight of me. I searched the eyes all around me, frantic to know why.

  “Here we go,” Sam said, producing a small silver object. He activated it and there was a faint buzz, my skin going up in goosebumps. I looked down to see the blood smeared all over me shimmer and disappear. I stared at Sam. “Paintguns,” he said.

  Owen’s face melted with relief and he rushed over, throwing his arms around Molly and me together.

  “What’s happening?”

  My throat closed around the words. They killed Papa. Pete’s dead.

  Pete’s dead.

  My stomach heaved but somehow I didn’t throw up. Dr. Heinriksen’s voice was soft. “The patch should prevent nausea as well as pain. There’s also something there to help keep you calm, for now.”

  I looked at her, wide-eyed. Calm?

  “Until we get you out of here.”

  I stared at Sam.

  “They were trying for you too,” he said, uncompromising, “and if two of my guards were assassins then you’re not safe here at all.” Bitterness was icy and sharp in his voice. “You have to get away from here. At least for now.”

  “How are we going to do that? Someone just killed the emperor! You think someone who can do that can’t keep me and the kids from getting out of the palace?”

  Dr. Heinriksen’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact. “Yes. The arrangements for getting the Imperial Family to safety in case of emergency are independent and separate from day to day security measures.”

  I blinked at her. Somewhere in my head I knew she’d just said something simple, but my head felt thick and sluggish. I looked around. It wasn’t a room, but a garage. There were no windows, no decorations, only an odd transport. Plain, simple, unremarkable, and small, it looked nothing like any of the imperial family’s large and luxurious vehicles.

  “It’s the emergency escape plan,” Sam said. I stared at it.

  Sam stood by the transport. “It’s locked against entry; only you and the children can open it or get in.”

  “But—”

  Sam’s hand closed around my upper arm, gentle but firm, steering me into the transport. “Please, Your Highness, there’s no time for discussion.”

  Owen gripped my hand the moment I was on board.

  “Wait—” But the door closed and I met Dr. Heinriken’s eyes for the last time. The lines of worry on her face were my last glimpse of that life.

  I was in the toilet when I heard that the emperor had been assassinated.

  iv9

  My face slammed into the unyielding poly. Warm blood trickled into my eye. One of them shoved me against the wall and jerked at my pants. I pressed my face to the cold surface and closed my eyes. The opened cut on my brow stung. I concentrated on that, not on what he was doing.

  I wasn’t even sure which one of them it was. Not that it mattered. When he was finished he grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my face into the wall again for good measure.

  You don’t care. I fell into the mantra. It doesn’t matter.

  A second one planted his hand in my back, pushing me into the wall so hard I could barely breathe.

  You don’t care. It doesn’t matter.

  “That’s enough.”

  I cringed at the voice even as my knees went weak with relief. They’d stop. Did it matter who rescued me? I still hated that it was her.

  “Yeah, yeah.” That voice was Bait, which was a ridiculous name for a man his size. The man at my back didn’t stop. “When we’re finished.”

  “I think now would be better,” Kafe replied, level and deceptively calm. The man behind me stuttered. The pressure eased up.

  “We just started,” he snapped.

  “And now you’re finished. You’ve had enough fun with this one for a while.” A dangerous edge was in her voice and the man pinning me moved away. I snatched at my pants and fastened them quickly. There was nowhere to go except past Bait and his friends or Kafe and the men flanking her. I put my back to the wall and watched.


  Bait and Kafe faced each other like wrestlers. She was less than half his size but more than a match for him in all the ways that counted around here.

  “Find a new toy,” she said. “You’ve been playing with this one a little too often. We’ve noticed.”

  They stared each other down for a long, tense moment before Bait jerked his head at his men. “Come on. We’re through here.”

  Kafe watched him go before she turned to me, a predatory grin on her face. “You’ve been popular lately.”

  My jaw tightened. “Jealous?”

  She laughed. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

  I scowled at the floor, wanting so much to ignore that and walk away. It was bad enough that she’d seen and had to save me. It just made it worse, having to be grateful to her, though it wasn’t as if I had a choice. Here there were no choices, just compromises and lesser indignities. Antagonizing her wasn’t worth what little satisfaction I might get out of it.

  “Thank you.”

  She smirked. “Try to stay out of trouble, Eight.” She drew out the name they’d given me as if she thought I still had the energy to care about that anymore, much less hate it the way I once had. “I won’t always be around to protect you.” She laughed to herself as she walked away, followed by her goons.

  The moment they were gone I bolted for my cell, not quite running. Running drew attention. She was right; I’d been a popular target lately, and I wasn’t going to rely on her assurances. I wanted a wall between me and the rest of them.

  I found my cell and triggered the transparent door. That was one protection Dead End allowed us. We could lock out other inmates, if not the guards. I sank to my cot, laying back and staring at the ceiling.

  Four cells down, a woman lay on her bed, crying into her blanket. She was new. I shoved the thin pillow over my head, trying to block out the noise.

  “You’re Eight, right?” Her voice was clogged and hitched from crying. I tried to ignore her. “You’re that duke, aren’t you?”