Emperor's Edge Republic (40 page)

“What kind of power?” Sespian glanced toward the ceiling; he must be thinking of that lightning storm.

“Elemental power,” Tikaya said. “Earth, wind, fire, and water.”

“Electricity?”

“Lightning would fall into those realms. I’ll have to refresh my memory with a textbook or two, but I believe there were some priests who had rudimentary command of the mental sciences in that old religion. Part of the reason the Turgonians were so eager to stamp them out is that the Kriskrusians were using their somewhat limited skills as a weapon against their sword-wielding invaders.”

“While I believe this information will be important,” Rias said, “and I’m always eager to listen to anything you have to say, I’d be obliged if you could explain this message for me first, love.” He tapped the top sheet, a page of her notes, his finger touching something she had underlined: “Want to kill Rias!”

“Yes, of course.” Tikaya patted the back of his hand. She shuffled the pages and found the one where she had written out the final translation. “When I learned that the Kriskrusian religion was experiencing a revival, and then remembered that Turgonian was based in part on that old language... figuring out the encryption key became much easier.” She lifted the page to read.

Before she uttered the first word, the door opened behind her. Dak strode in, his black uniform clean and pressed, his face shaven, and his boots polished, despite the fact that the creases on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes were deeper than ever. He yawned as soon as he entered, started to cover his mouth, but turned the gesture into an apologetic wave to Rias.

“Sorry I’m late. We were so close to catching that Nurian assassin, but she saw my men coming somehow and escaped, lighting a block of the old city on fire in the process. I’m expecting a full report soon.” He slid into a seat near the head of the table.

“Uhm,” Tikaya said, the page still in her hands. She met Rias’s eyes, widening hers slightly, hoping he would understand that she didn’t want to read this in front of Dak. He was still on her list of possible snitches.

Rias’s lips flattened. He caught her meaning, but he wasn’t happy about questioning Dak. Or maybe he didn’t want to alert a possible snitch that someone was questioning him. Either way, Rias shook his head minutely.

“What’s that?” Dak nodded toward the paper in Tikaya’s hands. “Something written in code?”

At least Rias hadn’t mentioned Sicarius’s find to Dak previously. She had wanted to keep it between direct family and those few people she knew they could trust. Sespian had played a role in having the presidency established and Rias elected, so she didn’t mind him staying in the room.

“Yes,” Rias said. “We intercepted a message being delivered to our enemies. Though we don’t yet know which enemies.” His tone grew dry. “There being so many.”

“
You
intercepted?” Dak asked. “Do you have people working the underground for you that I don’t know about?”

“Not officially,” Rias said. “I believe it was more...”

“Accidental,” Tikaya said.

“Yes. But the real reason I asked you to join us is that I’ll need your help with... have you heard about the incident with the priest? We need to figure out how to build a high-voltage electricity generator that can fry a city full of plants without frying a city full of people at the same time.”

Dak’s brows had drawn down at the admission that someone else was out gathering intelligence for Rias, and he had given Tikaya—or maybe the papers she held—a look that managed to be curious, hurt, and sullen all at the same time. But as Rias continued, he leaned back in the chair and recovered his composure and a neutral expression, insomuch as a man with a missing eye could ever appear neutral. The scar
did
lend him a sinister cast.

“We?” Dak asked. “That sounds more like a
you
activity. In fact, I distinctly remember a story from Father about how you were trying to replicate a scientist’s experiment as a boy, one that involved flying a kite in a thunder storm, and using a metal spoon from Grandmother’s kitchen to invite a lightning strike. She called you into the house, and you left my father holding the kite, with the promise that if the storm gusted hard enough it would make him fly. You failed to mention why the spoon was there. He was, if not hurt, rather shocked by the experience.”

“That’s not quite the whole story,” Rias said. “It sounds like he neglected to mention the part where he and Bresh had been repeatedly dunking me in the lake earlier in the day. Also... Mother didn’t call me.” Rias smiled blandly.

“I don’t care what all your followers think,” Dak said. “You’re an evil man, Mister President.”

“Yes, regardless... I need your help to figure out the logistics of troop and citizen movement. Whether we find a successful way to destroy this plant or not, we may have to evacuate the city. Temporarily.” Rias said the last word firmly.

“I’ve already planned for that,” Dak said. “What’s the note say? If there’s a further threat to you or your family, I’ll need to alert my team.”

“Your team may be part of the problem,” Rias said, “or someone on it anyway.”

Dak frowned at him. “What does that mean?”

Tikaya grimaced, wishing Rias hadn’t said anything.

Rias waved two fingers at the note. “This was recovered from Sauda’s mailbox. We don’t know who sent it.” He turned to Tikaya. “If you please, my lady.”

Though she continued to have misgivings, Tikaya read the message aloud. “The Nurian assassin believes she’s working for us, and that we’ll offer her a home in the city and long-term employment. However—”

“Wait,” Dak said. “
She?
”

“You didn’t know?” Rias asked mildly.

“I’m going to have to have a talk with a certain operative about his observational skills.”

Rias waved for Tikaya to continue.

“—we are setting everything up to place the president’s death upon her blade and cast the blame on the Nurians. The public may think of us as saviors for figuring out how to kill the plant, but they’ll never forgive us for slaying the great hero Starcrest. This way, the blame will be cast elsewhere, and we can step into power unopposed, and as heroes. We’ll use the assassin to get rid of Sicarius as well. It’s unclear whether he’s truly Starcrest’s right-hand man in this or not, but he’s dangerous, nonetheless, and the Nurian loathes him, so pitting them against each other is perfect. Maybe they’ll even kill each other at the same time. For your part, make sure that submarine doesn’t get fixed. We can’t have the president saving the city before we do.”

Tikaya set down the paper. For a long moment, nobody spoke, then Dak dropped a disgusted hand on the table.

“They think
Sicarius
is your right-hand man? He’s been out of the country for months.”

Rias smiled at him. “Jealous?”

“No,” Dak scoffed. “Intelligence officers are supposed to work in the shadows. If nobody knows
I’m
the one slaving day and night to gather information and keep you alive, then I’m doing my job right.”

“Is that why your jaw is grinding back and forth so loudly it sounds like there’s an army doing battle in there?”

Dak glowered at him. “You’re not just an evil man, you’re an evil,
evil
man.” He flicked a dismissive hand. “I would rather have your enemies—and I can give you a list if you’ve truly not kept up with all of them—focusing their enmity on Sicarius, anyway. It would interfere with my work if people started trying to assassinate me.”

“It does get tedious,” Rias sighed.

“I’ll station troops around the submarine, though I’ve heard the plant has grown down the waterfront to that warehouse of yours, so that may prove a deterrent in itself.”

“Not if these people have figured out how to kill the plant,” Sespian said. “From those notes, it sounds like they know how it can be done, lightning storms notwithstanding.”

“A practitioner trained in working with the elements would be able to create electricity,” Mahliki said. “I think Agarik can do it on a small scale. Who would have thought we would regret sending those two twerps home?”

“Twerps?” Sespian murmured to her. “You don’t care for your younger siblings?”

“Oh, they’re all right,” Mahliki said, glancing at Tikaya and Rias. “But little brothers and sisters are always... twerpy. You know how it is.”

“Actually, I don’t,” Sespian said wryly.

“I believe Mahliki enjoyed being the older sister,” Tikaya said, “aside from occasional babysitting duties, until Agarik and Koanani grew adept at... outmaneuvering her.”

“They’re
not
smarter than me,” Mahliki told Sespian, as if she feared he would judge her poorly if he found out anything to the contrary. “But they outnumber me. It’s not fair.”

If there hadn’t been so much else going on, Tikaya would have enjoyed watching her eldest attempt this courtship of Sespian. Even if he seemed a tad oblivious so far, he
was
sitting in the chair next to her and
had
been around more of late. Mahliki might yet charm him. Or maybe not. She was scowling at him now, perhaps because he was grinning.

“Stop smiling,” she whispered. “You’ll find out for yourself if Amaranthe and your father have children. Then
you’ll
have to watch over them, and they’ll probably be sneaking around as toddlers, climbing chimneys and drainpipes, hurling throwing knives at innocent babysitters...”

Tikaya had never seen Sespian look quite so alarmed and distressed, though she didn’t know if it was from the idea of knife-hurling toddlers or the suggestion of his father having children with Amaranthe. Tikaya hadn’t yet come to terms with that notion herself. She gave her daughter a warning headshake. If Mahliki meant to win Sespian’s affection, she should leave mentions of Sicarius out of their conversations.

“Are you going to need any special materials for this electricity generator of yours?” Dak asked Rias, apparently not interested in discussing toddlers at the moment. “I don’t want you wandering around the city, scrounging in junkyards when there are assassins after you.”

“I should hope as president that I can requisition higher-end materials,” Rias said. “I’ll need to think about this for a couple of hours. I’ll see if I can find Major Rydoth—he’s one of the best engineers stationed in the area. And I’ll make a parts list.”

“Give it to me, and don’t talk to your vice president about this project,” Dak said. “You want to talk about people who might make a snitch. He wanders into my office to borrow books and maps of the city far too often.”

“Serpitivich?” Tikaya stared at him. After hearing the vice president accuse Dak of snooping in
his
office, this was an odd turn. Who was telling the truth?

Mahliki and Sespian also looked surprised at Dak’s suggestion. Serpitivich was a likable, if occasionally absent-minded fellow.

“He
is
working on a project to improve the city infrastructure,” Rias said. “Research would be required.”

“He
lingers
,” Dak said. “Asking questions and looking over people’s shoulders.”

“Maybe he simply wants to keep apprised of events,” Tikaya said. “Or maybe he likes your company.”

“Nobody comes to visit because they like my company.” Dak thrust a finger toward Rias’s nose. “Don’t forget he ran against you in the election. And came in second.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Rias said. “He’s been nothing but helpful thus far.”

“I know he seems inoffensive, but I don’t care what you show on the outside: you’re not going to be happy to come in second place in a contest like that. To be the first president of a new republic? That’s a prize that will be remembered for all of history.”

Sespian tapped his chin thoughtfully, though he didn’t say anything.

“I’ll keep your words in mind,” Rias said.

“Do that,” Dak said. “And don’t show him that note, either. No need to let out that you’re aware someone’s looking at both players’ tiles here.”

“No,” Rias murmured in agreement, glancing at Tikaya.

Was he thinking the same thing as she was? That Dak might be foisting the suspicion on someone else to take the attention off himself? Or was Serpitivich truly the shifty one, and Dak the person they could trust? Tikaya grimaced. Decoding ancient languages was so much easier than decoding people.

A knock sounded at the door. “Mister President?” a young man called. “You have visitors. Should I ask them to come back la—”

The door was thrust open and a smiling Maldynado strolled in, brushing past the security guards as if they were children with toy swords. One tried to grab him in an arm lock, but he melted out of the grip without losing the smile.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Pardon the intrusion, but we’ve uncovered some information we’re certain you’ll want to hear about.”

Dak had risen, touching the pistol at his belt, but Rias stopped him with a raised hand. Amaranthe entered after Maldynado, along with an enforcer sergeant Tikaya hadn’t seen since Professor Mugdildor’s funeral early that winter—Yara, that was her name. After them came a plump, gray-haired woman in spectacles with old bruises yellowing her cheekbones. She had a wholesome, matronly look, and Tikaya would have guessed her a schoolteacher or librarian, but grease and oil stains smeared her calico dress. Several of the pockets in that dress bulged with items that clinked when she walked. Not weapons—security wouldn’t have let her come up here armed—so maybe tools? Mahliki sat up straighter, regarding the woman with interest.

“We apologize for interrupting your meeting,” Amaranthe said, meeting everyone’s eyes and offering each person a solemn nod, “and we would have waited, but Ms. Sarevic here has been tied up in her own vault for the last three days, and she’s eager to tell her story before finding a peaceful place to rest and recoup.”

“The Kyatt Islands are nice,” Mahliki suggested. “Warm, sunny, beach-filled. A variety of interesting flora and fauna.”

The woman—Ms. Sarevic—scowled. “I don’t take to those who spin magic. Real science is crafted with tools.” She pulled a screwdriver out of her pocket and held it up for emphasis.