Ockham took a slow breath. “O.S. was created to serve the Humanists. If subsequent Humanist leaders judged that the Hive was best served by lending this power to two allied Hives, that does not add those Hives to our mandate. I want you to think only of our main Hive as you vote on this. ?Do our leaders have the right to order O.S. to put itself in danger of exposure? ?Lesley?”
“No.” She swallowed as she said it, bright eyes apologizing for voicing what her spouse would not want to hear. “In chess you’re not allowed to move the king into check, even if it’ll check the opponent, too. In a few days, maybe, if something makes Guildbreaker and Seneschal back off then sure, but not now, and”—she raised her voice as she saw Kat or Robin preparing to jump in—“I don’t think it’s a matter of disobeying the President. It doesn’t sound to me like the President wants us to do this. It was Perry’s idea. You said the President told us to prepare the hit but do nothing, probably because they didn’t want to refuse outright with Perry there. We can send Cardie to meet with the President tomorrow and verify, but my money says the President doesn’t want to give this order, not until the heat’s off.”
Ockham breathed deep, weighing all before he nodded. “?Cardigan?”
“We serve the Humanist Membership,” Sniper stated simply. “They elected Ganymede.”
“Thank you. ?[Sydney/Eureka]?”
The set-set stretched within their electrode mesh. <?you’re asking if we should take a small risk to prevent the cousins crashing down? yes, we should. of course we should. you haven’t seen these numbers. the sky is falling. yes, we should catch it before it buries everyone alive.>
Again Ockham breathed deep. “That’s two for following the order, one against. ?Thisbe?”
The witch Thisbe gazed down into her teacup. (Mycroft, must we have this fight again? No talk of witches.) “We should make the hit. We’re in no danger. Even if the investigation is looking at the cars, they can’t track my personal technique, and I’m sure Cato has a dozen fresh methods lined up. Martin Guildbreaker and Dominic Seneschal have no better chance now than ever of catching a one-time Cato concoction. If switching methods every time let an amateur like Mycroft Canner kill seventeen people in a week with the whole world chasing them, I think the nine best-trained killers on Earth can manage one hit without being caught by an uptight Mason and a perverted Blacklaw.”
“And ?ναξ Jehovah,” I would have added had I been there, “He Who sees what cannot be seen, and judges all by His unknowable Law. He too is watching.” So I would have warned, but I was not there, reader, nor am I even listening with you in Mukta. I am at Madame’s still, nestled in the unmerited heaven of Saladin’s arms. It was irresponsible of me, I know, to let the world spin on without watching. I who owe you seventeen lifetimes of service have no excuse.
Eighteen lifetimes, Mycroft, don’t forget; thy victims’ and thine own.
“I’m right. ?Aren’t I? ?Cato?” Thisbe prompted, scraping one boot across the other so the squeal of the surfaces penetrated even Mukta’s vents. “There’s no way they’ll catch you, you’re too good at this.”
His demonstrations of static electricity, famous at the science museum, do not make Cato’s wiry hair stand more on end than Thisbe Saneer. “?What? Um … yes. I mean, I’ve already picked out a method. It’s normal. As untraceable as normal, I mean, which means it could be traced only if you know what I don’t know … I mean, I don’t know how it could be traced, but nothing’s impossible. If somebody knows more than me maybe … except nobody … ?is it hot in here?”
Thisbe tossed her head. “It was a yes or no question, Cato.”
“Yes,” he answered, quick as a kicked pup. “I mean, no. ?What was the question again?”
“?Do you think you can make the hit without danger of exposure?”
His answer came slowly, like a pulled tooth. “Ggggggyyyyyyes. Yes. It’ll be ready to go in a few hours, as safe as it ever has been, assuming they don’t have any resources we don’t know—”
“Et cetera, et cetera…”
His black brows furrowed. “Don’t ‘et cetera’ it away, Thisbe. This universe contains infinite possibilities, therefore it’s possible that we’ll be caught. It always is.” Cato had more conviction in his voice here than you have ever heard from him, strength, one might almost call it, hope, for it was hope to Cato, that tiny thousandth of a percent of a chance, each time they made him do this, that it might be the last time.
“Yes, yes,” Thisbe granted, “but no more probable now than ever, that’s what I’m saying. Frankly, I’m not worried about this little puppet investigation.”
“?Puppet investigation?”
“If an independent party like Papadelias got involved,” she continued, “it might be a threat, but Seneschal and Guildbreaker both work for J.E.D.D. Mason. We’re in no danger there.”
<?no danger? ?have you forgotten what j.e.d.d. mason did here two days ago? ?they’re a psycho cult leader!>
“I agree, Thiz,” Sniper added. “President Ganymede warned me emphatically to have the bash’ avoid contact with J.E.D.D. Mason at all costs. I’ve never heard the President sound genuinely scared before.”
She sniffed. “That’s as may be, but we have Andō Mitsubishi on our side, and if Andō asks J.E.D.D. Mason to call off the hounds they will.”
<?why should they?>
Thisbe looked ready to laugh. “You know why.”
“It really is hot in here,” Cato interrupted.
Ockham frowned. “I asked the Chief Director and the President directly about J.E.D.D. Mason.”
Thisbe rolled her eyes. “You hardly have to ask. Andō’s J.E.D.D. Mason’s real father. Everybody knows.” She looked to Sniper. “Your whole nation-strat knows.”
Sniper always frowns, being lumped in with its Japanese mother’s nation-strat, whose insignia it never chose to wear. “?You believe that stupid rumor? ?It’s gibberish! A fantasy Mitsubishi made up to make themselves feel powerful, that J.E.D.D. Mason is really Andō’s son, and they spy on the Emperor and then sit in on Directorate meetings as the unofficial ‘Tenth Director,’ giving secret advice to help battle the Masons. ?We’re supposed to believe the Emperor’s being duped by something billions of people know?”
Thisbe’s eyes have a special glitter when she knows something you don’t. “I heard it from Andō’s own mouth, that J.E.D.D. Mason is their child.”
Sniper’s child-wide eyes grew wider. “?From Andō?”
“President Ganymede was there too.”
“?Where?” Ockham asked quickly.
“At a place.”
“What place.”
“A place I was, that’s all.”
“Thisbe…”
<?that’s the black hole right? ?location 133-2720-0732?>
“?Where?” Ockham does not like to repeat himself.
<the invisible nexus where every hive has ties. thiz went there checking up on … i forget why.>
“?Thisbe?”
Thisbe snuggled deeper among the cushions, enjoying the shock that spread across her bash’mates’ faces as one enjoys a winter fire spreading through dry logs. “I’m not allowed to repeat the details, I’m afraid.”
The twelfth O.S. loomed toward his sister. “You will repeat them to me.”
“No, I won’t,” she answered calmly. “The President told me not to. All I can say for now is that little Tribune Mason is like a living contract between the Masons and Mitsubishi not to screw each other over. With that in place—”
“Stop,” Cato whimpered. “It’s too hot in here.” He is out of your sight behind Mukta’s steel ribs, but perhaps you can still imagine the mad science teacher sweating beneath the lab coat he never removes.
“?Why did you meet with the President without informing me?”
“We just ran into each other, it was a complete surprise.”
“?What were you doing at this secret place?”
“Checking out what kind of threat J.E.D.D. Mason was. It is my job, Ockham, I do my job.”
“Not without reporting it to me.”
She took a deep breath. “Look, the name aside, the President made it very clear that—”
“Stop!” Cato half shouted.
All turned, as startled as you are to hear the coward Cato raise his voice.
“?What’s wrong?”