Interlude

IN MANY WAYS, Morgan thought, E’Teiso was Plexis, too. A simple being, part of a system it didn’t control, doing its job and not a bit more.

From the sounds outside, the cost could be its life. Not something the F’Feego understood . . . yet.

There was a listener, close by and deadly, who did. Whether Raj Plexis had ordered him to assassinate the F’Feego and placate the crowd with its corpse, or to signal a larger, more terrible response, Morrab would act to end this. The question was how. An outsider, Morrab, with discretion.

Morgan counted on it. “We’ll unload the truffles on Plexis, Officer E’Teiso, after you have written down the name—or names—of those behind all this.” He held up a hand before the F’Feego could utter a word. “That’s not our business.” It was Morrab’s and, for an instant, he pitied those named—but only for an instant. Plexis survived because enlightened self-interest—call it common sense—set limits on greed. “After you do, you’ll go outside to announce the fee on our cargo was a clerical error and apologize for causing concern.”

“They’ll—shurr—kill me.”

Not so unaware, then. “We’ll be with you,” he promised.

We will? with some alarm.

We started it, he told her. Spreading the word, drawing in friend and foe alike, starting ripples flowing outward that had—oh, yes—finally caught the full attention of Raj Plexis.

Up to them to finish.