"Are you sure about this?" Deena asked nervously.
"Trust me. She'll talk to us." Scholar knocked on the door.
"I still don't know how you managed to get the private numbers."
"You don't want to know." He knocked again. The mansion was oddly quiet.
"Tell me again why you need me here," Deena said.
"Because I need you to back me up and convince—"
The door swung open. A man dressed in black livery looked at them politely. "Yes?"
"Remember me? Dace's cousin?" Scholar said. "I'd like to see her, please."
The man flicked a measuring glance over Deena. "I'm sorry, but Miss Dace is not here."
The news vid cameras slid closer, alerted that something was happening. The man stepped back, pulling the door open. He motioned them inside. He didn't speak again until the door was closed firmly behind them.
"Some things are better kept private," he said. "As I was saying, Dace isn't here right now. She's off planet for a few days."
His manner changed after the door was closed. Scholar thought it odd.
"Do you wish to leave her a note?" the man asked.
This was a complication Scholar hadn't planned for. He was slipping. He shook his head. "Just tell her that her cousin came by. This is my mother." He gestured at Deena.
"If you say so," the butler said. He wasn't buying their story.
"You don't believe me," Scholar said.
"That you are Dace's cousin? That is a remote possibility, but that the well-known actress Dariana Grace is your mother? That one is a bit too much of a stretch." The butler folded his arms and waited.
"I told you it wouldn't work," Deena said. "We should just go."
"Maybe we should," Scholar agreed.
"I think we need to talk," the butler said. "Come to the kitchen and I'll find us something to drink."
Deena gave Scholar an uncertain look. He shrugged and followed the butler. She trailed behind him.
The kitchen was large, a comfortable mix of modern equipment and old charm. The floor was stone, the walls painted a soft yellow. The butler waved them to a seat at the round table in the middle of the room.
"Have you had lunch yet?" he asked.
"Do you want to tell us why you invited us in?" Scholar asked. He was still standing, though Deena sat down.
"Because I want to talk to you and I know back here we won't be overheard." The butler turned on a heating unit. The low hum filled the room. He smiled in satisfaction and sat at the table. "That should take care of any bugs."
"Are they a problem here?" Scholar asked.
"That depends on who is doing the listening. The name's Olin." The butler stuck out his hand.
"And my name is really Henrius Grey." Scholar shook the proffered hand. "And as you guessed, this is Dariana Grace."
"You have me curious," Olin said to Deena as Scholar sat down. "Why are you here? What possible connection do you have?"
Deena looked to Scholar. He shrugged and nodded. "Tell him if you want. I think we can trust him."
Olin laughed. "You checked me out. I knew someone had."
"You had quite a security net around your information," Scholar admitted. "It took some work to crack. I thought I hadn't left a trail, though."
"Not much of one," Olin said. "And I thought that net was unbreakable."
Scholar grinned. "For almost everyone, yes, but not for me."
"And that is why Commander Lowell pays you so well." Olin smiled at Scholar's sudden surprise. "You aren't the only one to crack codes, Henrius Grey."
"If you know who I work for, why haven't you turned me in?"
"Because I do not believe Commander Lowell is committing treason," Olin said. "Dace is playing a very dangerous game."
"Which is why I'm here," Scholar said.
"She's the target and you're the real threat," Olin said. "Interesting strategy. What I can't figure is why you are here." He turned back to Deena.
"I'm not sure myself," Deena admitted. She turned to Scholar.
"Because Dace isn't really marrying Vance," Scholar said. "It's all part of the game."
Olin raised one eyebrow.
"Believe me or not, it's the truth," Scholar said.
"Then she plays her part very well," Olin murmured.
"She should be marrying Tayvis," Deena blurted out. "At least that's what he keeps telling me." She waved her hand at Scholar.
"And Tayvis would be?" Olin waited again.
"My son. My real son," she added with a glance at Scholar.
Olin sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. "This just gets worse. Why did you bring her into this?"
"Because she offered to help. I needed someone with access to people and she offered. Lowell wants me to find Tayvis."
"Do I dare ask what connection they have?"
"Tayvis worked for Lowell until recently," Scholar said. "Look, I could lie. I could tell you stories that you would have a very hard time disproving, but I don't have time. I checked your files and you seem to be genuine. I'm going to trust you."
"And what if I don't trust you?"
"Then turn me in." Scholar waited, watching Olin.
Deena pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. She stared down at the table.
Olin drummed his fingers on the table. "Do you cheat at cards?"
"What?" Scholar asked in surprise.
"Do you cheat at cards?"
"Only if I really want to win," Scholar said.
"And how badly do you want to win?"
"I can't afford to lose."
"Then I think we may be able to help each other," Olin said.
"I just wanted to meet her, to see for myself what she was like," Deena said.
"She's a better person than Vance deserves," Olin said.
She studied him for a long moment, searching for the truth behind his words. She smiled finally. "Thank you," she said simply.
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Olin said. "I've been a fan of yours for years. I can truthfully say you are as lovely now as you ever were."
"He's almost better at flattery than you are," Deena said to Scholar.
"Almost?" Olin said. Scholar just grinned.
The door to the kitchen opened. Deena jumped. Hester looked in.
"I didn't realize you had visitors, Olin. I was just letting you know I'm going out. I won't be back until late." She turned to leave.
"Hester," Olin said, "come sit with us. Please." His voice left little room for argument, it was an order, not a request.
She stiffened, her fingers tightening on the door.
"Your report can wait a few minutes," Olin said. "And don't deny it. I know where you go and who you talk to."
She shook her head. "You can't possibly know the truth, Olin."
"Rutherford, Sulamin, and Oxford."
She went white. She crossed the room and meekly sat at the table. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing, as long as you're willing to work with me," Olin said.
"The legal firm?" Scholar asked. "What do they have to do with anything here?"
"I suspect they planted her here to keep an eye on Iniuri Shiropi. Who's paying the bills, Hester? Lady Candyce?"
She nodded. "I give her reports on everything that happens inside. She likes to be kept appraised of her husband's doings."
"And I suspect she pays you well," Olin said.
Hester shrugged, a delicate lifting of her shoulders. "It hurts no one."
"Dace was right to be suspicious about you," Olin said.
"Wait a minute," Scholar interrupted. "Are you saying that the Speaker's wife pays you to spy on him?" He stared at Hester, waiting for her answer.
"She hasn't lived with her husband for a dozen years. She likes to know what he's doing. After Vance disappeared for over a year, she was very concerned. He hasn't been home to visit her. She wants to know about the woman he has chosen to marry. She suspects it isn't entirely his choice."
"And you're going to tell her what, that Dace forced him into it?" Scholar asked.
"Not hardly," Hester answered. "Tell me, cousin Henry, are you really Dace's secret lover?"
"And if I was?"
"It would give Lady Candyce a reason to nullify the engagement."
"And what of Vance?"
"What of him?"
"Why am I here?" Deena asked Scholar. "Why did you really ask me to come?"
"I'm wondering myself. Do you trust her?" he asked Olin, pointing at Hester.
"Yes, but only to a point," Olin answered.
"Good, that settles that question." Scholar stood. "It's been a pleasure meeting you," he told Hester. "I'll be in touch," he added to Olin. He held out a hand to Deena.
She took his hand, standing up from the table.
"We'll let ourselves out," Scholar told Olin. "I suspect you still have a lot to discuss and we're only in the way."
Olin and Hester stayed at the table, eying each other. Scholar hustled Deena out of the kitchen and down the long hallway.
"That was a waste of time," she said when they were outside the front door. Their flitter was still parked in front.
"Not completely," Scholar said as he opened the door for her. He got in beside her and started the flitter. It rose into the air, merging with the traffic flying through the city.
"What do you want me to do now?" she asked.
"Find Tayvis," he said. "If you need anything, money, contacts, whatever, call these people." He scribbled a name and number on a card he pulled from his pocket. "You can trust them."
"And what are you going to do?"
"Track down a new lead."
"What do I tell Tayvis when I find him?"
"Tell him I said he's an idiot," Scholar said. "And then tell him to get back here as fast as he can. I have the feeling Dace is going to need his help."
The flitter circled, landing near her apartment. She got out.
"Deena," Scholar said, stopping her before she could close the door. "Be careful. And it may be safer if you left Linas-Drias for a while."
"Looking for my son should take me offworld. I was thinking of leaving anyway."
"Go sooner rather than later."
"I will. And Henry, you be careful. I've become rather fond of you."
She shut the door. He watched her walk into her building. He hoped he wasn't marking her as a target. He punched in a number on his com, scrambling it through his own circuits.
"Yes?"
"I've got a problem for you," Scholar said. "I need you to help a friend of mine move."
"New identity?"
"Just surveillance for now." He rattled off Deena's address. "She's leaving soon. Keep an eye on her for me, will you?"
"Sure thing. You want those files you asked for?"
"I'll pick them up before I leave. I've got a new lead to track down."
"See you soon, then."
"Soon." Scholar broke the connection.
He sent the flitter up into traffic. Finally, something had rattled loose. He knew if he shook things around long enough, something was bound to break free. He just hoped it was something useful this time.
Rutherford, Sulamin, and Oxford. He punched the names into his datapad. The information scrolled in front of him, floating in the air. He read through it quickly and frowned. It was somewhere to start, but it was going to take a lot of work to find anything in the piles of legitimate information. If there was anything to find.
His comp pad vibrated suddenly, a specific series of buzzes that only meant one thing. He keyed in a code and waited while the pad sorted through the other bits of information, extracting the message. When it finished, he stared at the single word for a long time.
Lowell had risked a lot to warn him. The name hung in the air above his pad. A single name, he thought, nothing else. It was a warning and a direction. It made too much sense.
"High Commander Theodys," he murmured to himself.
Life had just gotten even more dangerous.