Too Like the Lightning (65 page)

“Cultural preparations for Mars,” I answered without actually lying.

That they accepted.

“The Outsider, then?” Chair Kosala suggested.

Andō was first to answer. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because the Outsider knows nothing about anything, and Europe gains nothing from doing this.”

She leaned against her Anonymous. “We're running out of logical suspects. Either one of us has a subordinate who's betrayed us”—Kosala's eyes strayed to the King of Spain—“or it's the Utopians, or the Outsider, or something else entirely.”

“I think,” Spain voiced, mildly, “I think it's time we brought the Outsider in.”

I asked myself, reading this over, why I describe the King of Spain less vividly than all the others. In truth he is less vivid, always restrained and stately, trained from infancy to do nothing he could not be seen doing on a coin. I think misfortune too has made him quiet, he who alone among the circle joined more out of necessity than choice, for when Her Majesty the Queen was institutionalized, where could our unlucky monarch turn, whose strict office permitted neither divorce nor a common affair, except to this professional King's Mistress, unrivaled in the arts of secrecy? He has a conscience, this King, a fierce one whose gnawing pains him like an illness. Since his Queen's death I have personally witnessed five of his attempts to “set things right” and persuade Madame to become his lawful wife. But Madame always has Caesar holding her other hand, and so the widower must wait.

“Bring the Outsider in?” Danaë cried. “Over this? No, no, your Majesty, this is a petty thing, all this will pass. The Outsider will be nobody again at the next election, we don't want to be saddled with them after that!”

“As you are saddled with me now?” he asked.

Her eyes filled at once with sparkling tears, enough to make both her husband and brother hot to comfort her. “Your Majesty, I didn't mean…”

Spain saved her from finishing. “Perry will win the next election.”

Only the Anonymous was not stunned too much to ask, “Why do you think that?”

“Because Perry has seduced the Prince of Asturias.”

Duke Ganymede actually choked at the news. “You must be kidding, Spain. That upstart has sunk his fangs in Crown Prince Leonor Valentín?” He looked to Madame as if she and she alone had the right to approve such matches.

“I don't know if there is sex involved or merely money and corruption,” the King replied, “but Perry's … alliance … with my heir is quite complete. At the next election, if I do not run, the Prince will campaign in support of Perry. If I do run, Perry will expose the Prince's involvement in certain inappropriate activities, and that, combined with my embarrassment from the last election, will likely end my family's part in politics for the next two generations.”

“We shouldn't invite him in, we should crush him!” Danaë seethed, forming fists, her porcelain fingers clutched in balls which seemed too fragile to strike a real blow. “This affront is outrageous! And against such a venerable line! Madame, you must agree, we should ally and crush this offender!”

Madame's fan could not hide her painted brow, which wrinkled around eyes bright with calculations. “Certainly, dear child, we could do as you propose, but if that were what His Majesty wished, he would have asked it. Is that not so?”

The King nodded. “Perry has not done badly as Prime Minister. Europe is doing well. If Perry has chosen this somewhat underhanded method to remain in office, it may simply be because they know they face a rather unfair alliance on my side. I know that you, my friends, could and would crush Perry if I asked, but I have neither the moral right nor any desire to crush a perfectly competent politician, just because we are competing for the same office.”

“And if Perry isn't as benign as you imagine?” You will be surprised, reader, to hear that it was Bryar Kosala who suggested the dark option first. The World's Mom may be the most forgiving, but she is also most vicious when family is threatened. “What if Perry was behind fixing the last election too? Planted Ziven Racer on your staff to sabotage you?”

Cornel MASON nodded. “Sugiyama's Seven-Ten list has drawn fresh attention to Ziven Racer, to your embarrassment, Spain. I wouldn't rule Perry out as a suspect for
Black Sakura
just yet.”

The King accepted their counterarguments in gracious calm, as when he hears out all his ministers, though his decision is already made. “All the more reason, then, to test them.”

“It would be easy to arrange,” Madame took over. “Perry has been a midlevel member of this establishment for six years now. No one could advance so far in politics without some help from here.”

“Are they addicted?” the Anonymous asked first.

“Oh ho ho,” Headmaster Faust laughed like a merry giant. “As addicted to the ladies as you are, Déguisé. No offense.” He smirked, but the Anonymous has long since reconciled himself to the power petticoats and coquetry have over him. “Perry's here twice a week at least,” the Headmaster continued, “fond of the Salon Cleopatra, and…” I omit here, reader, details—both lewd and Brillist—which are not pertinent to this history. Whatever his other accomplishments, Felix Faust is an unparalleled voyeur, and quick to forget Danaë's presence at this opportunity to demonstrate his knowledge. “I've seen Perry in the sex-free sections of the middle level, too,” he continued, “the dueling ring, gambling rooms, the dance hall, wooing the ladies, that little blonde especially, Clara, is that their name, Madame? Wooing as if to wed, not that one can blame the wretch for wanting some way to be satisfied at home, eh, Andō?” The Director did not acknowledge the jibe. “Has Perry made you an offer yet, Madame,” Faust asked, “on the bride?”

“Yes, but it was several millions short of acceptable. Clara is a true jewel of this bash', and Perry has little in the way of funds, though they are growing.”

Perhaps, reader, your stomach turns at calling this a bash'? Much as it turns at thinking of the ample payment the birth bash' of Sidney Koons received for sending their infant off, first for set-set rearing, then to be Eureka's partner governing the cars. But if you turn Nurturist on us, distant reader, Caesar will fight you through every generation of the Empire.

“That makes things simple,” the King continued. “I propose a meeting, all of us with the Outsider, here where such things are untraceable. If Perry is, as I hope, a good person like ourselves, then we can reach a compromise, wherein either Perry or myself will accept a different office, perhaps in Romanova, in return for Perry's admission to our circle and our help securing their desired bride. If, on the other hand, Perry is the villain some of you suspect, then Epicuro will soon unmask them, and we can crush them in good conscience.” Spain smiled at Jehovah as he called Him by the name His Majesty himself contributed to the Prince's list.

Bryar Kosala pulled her lover's arms more firmly around her. “Your Majesty, exactly what degree of … inclusion do you imagine for Perry? Our little company here is more than political.”

The Comte Déguisé seconded with a nod.

“I imagine it as a strictly political gathering at first, and each of us will see in time whether we become comfortable sharing more.”

Danaë hugged her brother closer, as if he were her knight in dark days, or her teddy bear. “I don't like admitting someone who would think to threaten His Majesty. What a horrid mind!”

Hotaka Andō Mitsubishi wrapped a comforting arm about his wife's shoulders. “It's all right, Danaë. I've met with Perry many times, they're inelegant but not offensive. I support the idea of their
political
inclusion, and we can make very clear that it comes with no expectation of sharing other things.” He reached deep under Ganymede now, and the Duke President's eyes lost focus for a moment as the hidden hand touched home. “Agreed, Ganymede?”

The Duke wriggled away from the distraction. “Acceptable. Shall I do the inviting, as usual?”

The Anonymous pursed his lips. “I don't want to reveal myself until we are sure of Perry, but I'm willing to attend by speaker.”

Caesar frowned. “Jehovah, what is your impression of Casimir Perry? Should we invite them to join us?”

Jehovah awoke again from His inner solitude. “Perry fights for power more fiercely than most fight for their lives. You invited danger by leaving the man outside this long.”

Now the frown spread to Kosala. “Have you gotten to know Perry during your work at the Senate, Jed?”

“Barely, Aunt Kosala. This man performs in public, always. Here I should hope to see him without his intention mask.”

MASON breathed deeply as all digested the words. “Then we're agreed. How soon can we do this?”

Madame shrugged, the tightness of her breath-strained bodice commanding the attention of both her gentlemen. “I'll need a day or two to make arrangements, but since you are all agreed on it, my friends, I shall act as fast as possible.”

His Majesty nodded. “Thank you, Madame. I am sincerely grateful.”

The Anonymous was last to nod consent. “Be careful not to reveal me to Perry before we're ready, Jehovah. Do you understand? Perry doesn't know.”

His nervousness may seem excessive, but the Anonymous has been burned by Jehovah's acumen before. How else do you imagine Madame added this most elusive Prince to her collection? It was before I joined the house, but I have heard the story. The Anonymous frequented the middle level in his everyday persona, socializing in tea rooms and wooing Madame's ladies, when one day the Young Master, only six years old, addressed him across a card table: “I disagree with such-and-such you wrote in the paper, Monsieur l'Anonyme.” The startled guest tried in haste to contradict the boy, “That wasn't me!” but children and sages both grow more stubborn when they know they're right. Jehovah presented proof after proof, and a century and a half of perfect secrecy was no match for Him. Madame silenced the lesser card players with bribes, but Caesar, Andō, and Ganymede, who frequented the middle level too for variety's sake, saw at once the value of being able to negotiate in person with the Seventh Power. Thus was born the guise of Déguisé. Madame was overjoyed; she had expected to have to work much longer to capture her Anonymous.

“Excellent, we have a solution,” Madame proclaimed. “Now, I'm sure you all have a thousand things to be getting on with, unless there are other concerns.”

Only Felix took the invitation. “One last thing, since we've strayed rather far from my original topic. I want to make sure, Director and Princesse, that we're parting on good terms. Whatever my opinion of those things you have adopted, my affection for the pair of you is unchanged.”

Andō could not smile here, but what are wives for if not to be forgiving when husbands cannot? “Of course, Felix, of course. We could never be angry with you.”

“That said,” her husband added, “I do not intend to block my ba'kids from careers in high office just because of your … opinion, Felix. I know what they are doing, it is no harm to you. If their presence inside one office or another”—he nodded to Kosala and the Anonymous—“gives me some small insight into your Hives, it is far less than you yourselves already willingly extend. If nothing else, I hope that, as the children mature, they can become liaisons between us, and help advise me about your own Hives' interests.”

Bryar Kosala smiled her approval. “That makes sense.”

Faust did not. “Will you at least get them to stop applying to my Institute? I don't know how many times I can restrain myself from shouting ‘set-set' in public.”

A pause for thought. “Yes, Felix. I shall inform Jun that they are unwelcome at Brill's Institute.”

“Oh, they're welcome enough as a test subject.” Felix rubbed his hands. “For progress and humanity and all that.”

A grim frown. “I will think about it.”

“Good,” Madame proclaimed, “we are all friends again. And now”—a kiss on the cheek for MASON—“I shall contact you all”—a kiss on the cheek for Spain—“when I have made arrangements with the Outsider. Meanwhile, dear friends, please, for your own health, do take some minutes to enjoy yourselves.”

Joy followed. The Anonymous attacked laughing Bryar's bodice, which their earlier haste had left intact. It was Spain's turn with Madame, and His shy Majesty prefers a private room, so they departed, while MASON stretched back to watch modest Danaë help her brother get into position for her husband's sport. Faust, meanwhile, invited Jehovah to join him at the crack of the window curtains, the Brillist itching to take notes on His observations of the lives below. Jehovah, Aristotle still in hand, complied.

I knew my office, and offered Caesar wine. His glance at me seemed tired, though it may just have been the richness of the room. He did not have the stomach to use Latin, not today, not with someone with so little right to it as I have. “I hear you were almost killed in the street today, Mycroft.”

“Yes, Caesar. The Utopians saved me.”

“You were seen, in uniform. Word is already spreading. This may end your days walking the streets.”

I swallowed down my sob. “I know, Caesar.”

“The attackers were friends of Apollo's. Thirteen years they'd been planning how to get at you. I'll see to it they're acquitted.”

“Thank you, Caesar.”

“You've been making mistakes lately, Mycroft. You're worried about something. Is it this Seven-Ten list?”

“No, it … May I ask a question, Caesar?” I had not intended to whisper, but his face often drives the voicing from my words.

“What?”

“If you had something, something so wonderful that it seemed that it might … that, given the chance, it would make a better world, for everyone, forever, so much better, but first there was a danger, a terrible, terrible danger that it could rip everything we have apart … would you destroy that better world to save this one?”