The Traders' War (Merchant Princes Omnibus 2) (66 page)

‘There were people there?’ Hulius perked up. ‘Hey, I think that rates at least a bottle of wine . . .’

‘We’re going back over, tomorrow,’ Huw announced. ‘I’ll e-mail a report to the duke tonight. Then we’re going to double-check on that road and see where it
leads.’

The small house hunkered a short way back from the sidewalk, one of a row of houses in an area that wasn’t exactly cheap – nowhere in Boston was cheap – but
that had once been affordable for ordinary working people. Brilliana knew it quite well. She’d been watching it discreetly for over an hour, and she was pretty sure that nobody was home and,
more important, nobody else was watching it. Which suited her just fine, because if it was under surveillance what she was about to do would quite possibly get her killed.

Swallowing to clear her over-dry mouth, Brill opened the car door and stepped out into the hot summer sunlight. She slung the oversized leather handbag on her left shoulder, cautiously checking
that she could get a hand into it in a hurry, then let the door of the rental car swing shut. The key was in the ignition: the risk of someone stealing the car was, in her view, minor compared to
the risk of not being able to get away fast if things went wrong.

The road was clear. She glanced both ways before crossing it, a final check for concealed watchers.
I hope Paulie’s all right,
she fretted. The ominous turn of recent events was
bad enough for those who could look after themselves. Paulette wasn’t a player, and didn’t have the wherewithal to escape if things spun out of control. And Brill owed her. Not that
she’d had much time to demonstrate it, lately – the past week had run her ragged, and this was the first free day she’d had to spend in the United States for weeks.

She paused for a moment at the front door, straining for any sign of wrongness, then shrugged. The key slid into the lock and turned smoothly: Brill let herself inside, then closed the door
behind her. ‘Paulie?’ She called softly.

No reply. The house felt empty. Brill began to relax.
She’s shopping, or at work.
Whatever ‘work’ meant these days – Brill couldn’t be sure, but the huge
mess that Miriam had landed in had probably cut Paulie loose from her sinecure. She glanced around the living room. The flat-screen TV was new, but the furniture was the same.
Yo, big
spender!
Paulette wasn’t stupid about money. She kept a low profile. Hopefully she’d avoided being caught up in the dragnet so far.

Brill put her bag down on the kitchen counter and pulled out a black box. Switching it on, she paced out the ground floor rooms, front to back, checking corners and walls and especially light
fittings. The bug detector stayed stubbornly green-lit. ‘Good,’ she said aloud as she stashed it back in the bag. Next, she pulled out another box equipped with a telephone socket and
extension cable, and plugged each of the phone handsets into it in order. A twitter of dialing tones, but the speaker on the box stayed silent: nobody had sneaked an infinity bug onto her landline.
That left the Internet link, and Brill didn’t know enough about that to be sure she could sweep Paulie’s computer for spyware; but she was pretty sure that unplugged PCs didn’t
snoop on conversations.

‘Okay . . .’ Brill picked up her bag and scouted the top floor briefly, then returned to the kitchen. The carton of half-and-half in the fridge was fresh, and there was a neat pile
of unopened mail on the table-top, the most recent postmarked the day before. And there was no dust. She checked her watch: ten past four.
Might as well wait,
she thought, and began to set
up the coffee machine.

An hour later, Brill heard footsteps on the front path, and a rattle of keys. She dropped her magazine and stood up silently, standing just inside the living room door as the front door opened.
One person, alone. She tensed for a moment, then recognized Paulette. ‘Hey, Paulie,’ she called.

‘What!’ A clatter of dropped bags. Brill stepped into the passageway. ‘Brill! How did you – ’

Brill raised a finger to her lips. Paulette glared at her, then bent down to pick up the spilled grocery bags. ‘Let me,’ Brill murmured. ‘Shut the door.’ She gathered the
bags: Paulette didn’t need prompting twice, and locked the front door before turning back to stare at her, hands on hips.

‘What do you want?’

Brilliana shrugged apologetically. ‘To talk to you. Do you have a cellular telephone?’

‘Yes.’ Paulie’s hand tightened on her handbag.

‘Please switch it off and remove the battery.’

‘But –’ Paulie looked round once, then shook her head. ‘Like that, is it?’ she asked, then reached into her bag and pulled out a phone. ‘What happens
next?’ Brilliana waited. After a moment Paulette slid the battery out of the phone. ‘Is that what you wanted?’

Brill nodded. ‘Thank you. I’d already swept your house for bugs. Would you like a coffee? I’m afraid I’ve been here a while, it’s probably stale, but I could make
some more – ’

Paulette managed a brief chuckle of laughter. ‘You slay me, kid.’

‘No, never.’ Brill managed a wan smile. ‘I apologize for breaking in. But I had to check that you weren’t under observation.’

‘Observation –’ Paulette frowned ‘– why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?’

‘Because you’re not going to like it. Before I say any more – when did you last see Miriam?’

‘Shit.’ For a moment Paulette’s face twisted in pain. ‘She’s in trouble, isn’t she?’

‘When did you last see her?’ Brilliana repeated.

‘Must be, let me see . . . about three months ago. We did lunch. Why?’ Her expression was guarded.

‘You’re right, she’s in trouble. The good news is, I’ve been ordered to get her out of it. The duke thinks it can be papered over, if she cooperates. I can’t
promise you anything, but if you happen to see her, if you could make sure that’s the first thing you tell her . . . ?’

Paulie frowned. ‘I’m telling you the truth.’

‘I know that. Not everybody would choose to believe you, though. They’d want to believe you’re protecting her. She’s missing, Paulie. Nobody’s seen her for a week,
and we’re pretty sure she’s on the run. I’m talking to you because I figure if she makes it over here you’re one of the first people she’ll turn to for help –
’

‘What do you mean, if?’

‘It is a long story.’ Brill pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down. ‘I know part of it. I think you know another part of it?’ She raised an eyebrow, but
Paulette stared at her mulishly and refused to answer. ‘All right. Three months ago, Miriam did something really foolish. She stole some information about a project she was not supposed to
know of, and then she tried to bluff her way into it. It’s a Clan operation on this side, that’s all I’m allowed to say, and she tampered with the Clan’s postal service
– that alone is a high crime. To make matters worse, she was caught by the wrong person, a conservative member of the council’s security oversight board. What Miriam did, that sort of
thing –’ she shrugged uncomfortably ‘– carries the death penalty. I’m not exaggerating. Sneaking into that particular operation –’ She stopped. ‘You
know the one I’m talking about?’

Paulie nodded once, sharply. ‘She told me what she was going to do. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wasn’t listening.’

Brilliana rolled her eyes. ‘I am going to pretend I didn’t hear what you just said, because if I had heard you say it, certain superiors of mine would want to know why I didn’t
kill you on the spot.’

‘Ah –’ Paulette’s face paled. ‘Thanks, I think.’

‘No problem. Just remember, those are the stakes. Don’t let
anyone
else know that you know.’ Brill gestured at the coffee machine. ‘Shall I refill it? This may
take some time.’

‘Be my guest.’ There was no trace of irony in Paulette’s voice. ‘You meant that. About the Clan’s involvement in a fertility clinic being so secret people can be
killed out of hand for knowing about it?’

Brill stood up and walked over to the coffee machine. ‘Yes, Paulie, I am absolutely serious. The project the center is working on is either going to change the structure of the Clan
completely, and for the better – or it will trigger a civil war. What’s more, the authorities here are now aware of the Clan’s existence. There have been disturbing signs of
covert operations . . . If they discover what has been happening at the clinic, we can’t be certain how they will respond, but the worst case is that several thousand innocent teenagers and
their parents will find themselves on a one-way trip down the rabbit hole.’ She finished with the coffeemaker and switched it on.

‘I find that hard – ’

‘What do you think the clinic’s doing?’ Brill demanded.

‘What? It’s a fertility clinic, isn’t it? It helps people have babies. Artificial insemination, that kind of . . .’ She trailed off.

‘Yup,’ Brill said lightly. ‘And they’ve been helping couples have children for nearly twenty years now. The fact that the children just happen to be de facto outer family
members, carriers of the world-walking trait, is an extra. The clinic is still helping couples who’re desperate to have children.’ She looked down at the table. ‘Half of the
children are female. In due course, some of them will be getting letters from a surrogacy agency, offering them good money for the use of their wombs. And they’ll be helping other couples
have children, too. Children who will be world-walkers. And when they grow up, they’ll get a very special job offer.’

Paulette nodded slowly. ‘I see. I think.’

‘About twenty years from now, the Clan’s going to have to absorb a thousand Miriams and their male counterparts. They’ll all arrive at once, over about a decade. A torrent of
world-walkers. At the peak of our power, before the civil war, there were less than ten thousand of us; now, I’m not sure, but I think only a couple of thousand, at most. Think what that
change means. One of the reasons everyone has been bearing down on Miriam is that she’s, she’s a
prototype,
if you like. Raised outside the Clan. Not uncivilized, but she
thinks like an American. They all want to see how – if – she can be integrated. If she’s going to fit in. If Miriam can learn to be part of the Clan, then so can the children. But
if not . . . in fifty years’ time they could be a majority of our members. And the established elders will not willingly give up their power, or that of their children, in favor of
uncivilized upstarts. Think what Miriam is going to do to their lives, if she makes a mess of things now!’ Brill stopped abruptly. Her shoulders were shaking.

‘What’s it to you?’ Paulie demanded. She stared at Brilliana for a few seconds, then jammed her fist across her mouth. ‘Oh. Oh shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t
realize.’

‘Not your fault. My mother had . . . difficulties. Around the time the clinic was being set up. Angbard proposed to my father that he and my mother . . .’

‘Oh. Oh dear.’

‘My father has
issues,
’ Brill said bitterly. ‘I believe that is the accepted euphemism. Over here, it’s easy enough to say “test tube baby”.’
Over there . . .’ She lapsed into silence as the coffee machine began to burble and spit. ‘In any case. To the matter in hand: Miriam stuck her nose into sensitive business –
making life much harsher for people she has never met – and was imprisoned, under house arrest. Baron Henryk decided to see if he could domesticate her, using the stick alongside the
carrot.’

‘What kind of carrot? And stick?’

‘He promised not to execute her, if she married the King’s younger son, the Idiot. She agreed – reluctantly. And to ensure the succession, he arranged for artificial insem
– are you all right, my lady?’

Paulette finished coughing. ‘Bastards.’ She stared at Brill blearily. ‘The bastard. He did
that
?’

Brill shrugged. ‘Evidently. He didn’t tell Angbard: this all came to light later, by which time it was too late. There was a betrothal ceremony, to be followed by a wedding at the
palace. Egon – the Idiot’s elder brother – got wind of it, and realized he would be a liability once the younger brother’s wife bore a child, so he – ’

‘Hang on, this is the crown prince we’re talking about? Why would his younger brother’s offspring be a threat?’

‘Creon might be damaged, but he’s outer family. There’s a test. The clinic only developed it in the past two years. Egon is not even outer family, he is merely royalty.
Obviously, he was afraid that once a royal Clan member was to hand, he might suffer an unfortunate hunting accident. So he contrived an explosion in the great hall and proceeded to kill his father,
usurp the throne, and start a civil war in the Gruinmarkt. In the middle of all this, Miriam disappeared. She is either here, or in New Britain. I have agents searching for her over there, and over
here – I thought she’d come to you if she was in trouble.’

‘Oh sweet Mary, mother of God . . .’ The coffeemaker spluttered and hissed as Paulette stood up and shuffled over to it. She pulled two mugs down from the cupboard: ‘How do you
take yours? White, no sugar, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, please.’ Brill waited while Paulette filled the mugs and carried them over to the table. Finally she said, in a small voice, ‘Her plight is perilous.’

Paulette froze for a few seconds. ‘I seem to recall you said this was good news. Is there anything worse?’

‘Oh, plenty.’ Brill picked up her mug. ‘Your government knows about us now. We have reason to believe they know Miriam is connected to us, too. They obviously don’t know
about you yet, because they haven’t dragged you off to a secret underground detention facility. Hopefully they won’t notice you – they are tracing the Clan courier routes, which
you have never been connected with – but if she shows up on your doorstep, there is a chance they will follow her and find you.’ She reached into her handbag and pulled out a business
card case. ‘Here’s my cell number. If Miriam shows up, ring me at once. If I’m not there, the phone will be answered by a trusted associate. Tell them the word
bolt-hole
.
You will remember that?’

‘Bolt-hole.’ Paulette licked her lips.