I'm afraid to ask what you mean by "certain permanent alterations." But I suppose I'll find out. Great work with the ads. As more people get access to modern comms, they're helping immeasurably. I had a class of a hundred turn up here. Spent two weeks training them, and now they're all on assignment in the field. After the recruits leave, it feels so quiet. Empty. I'm not alone in wishing I could get out. The kid's going stir-crazy; and yeah, he's totally worth the trouble. I was just venting.

We're running short on gear. If you could get me locations on supply caches-food, weapons, anything the military may have hidden away-we need it desperately. And a number of the villages in the provinces have been cut off. The measures we took to keep the shipments running have broken down. The Nicuan are now too afraid of hijackings to risk sending the food as they used to. They'd rather let people starve than see the resources end up in enemy hands. And I understand the tactic. It's classic, as armies march on their stomachs.

I'm looking forward to that report you promised me.

M.

CHAPTER 40.

Tarn and Leviter live in a sleek high-rise with excellent security.

For obvious reasons, they don't require us to pass through the scanners. That would alert the system that Vel and I aren't who we claim to be. So Tarn comes down to meet us, obviating the need for such measures. I follow him to their private lift; they have the entire top floor of the building, and the view is breathtaking, one of the best I've seen on La'heng.

He motions us to silence until we step into the apartment, then says, "You can speak freely here."

"White-noise generator?" I guess.

He shakes his head. "Edun has hacked all the spyware so it logs a variety of incredibly mundane conversations. Those tasked with keeping watch over us must think we're the dullest dogs in the world."

As Tarn mentions him, Leviter comes down the hallway into the common room. The place is furnished in minimalist design; it's not warm, but it is elegant. It suits both of them, and they appear more relaxed-for obvious reasons-than they were at the prince's bash. I take a seat before anyone else because I don't have to be Mishani right now, and it's a relief.

"You've heard from Loras?" I ask.

Leviter nods. "Yes, he gave us a full report of activity in the capital, so we can facilitate. I must admit, this has been unexpectedly entertaining."

Tarn grins at him. "You already had your hand in when I arrived." He turns to me with an amused look. "He was bored, you see. Thought it would be diverting to see what trouble he could stir up here."

"You destabilize governments for fun?" Vel asks.

Leviter shrugs. "Sometimes. If there's no paying work to be had."

That makes me wonder what crises he's perpetuated. "Who have you worked for? Or is that an if I tell you, I'll have to kill you question."

Tarn and Leviter exchange a look, then the former chancellor replies, "He worked for me during the war."

Even Vel seems intrigued. "Is that how you met?"

"Virtually." Tarn puts a hand on Leviter's knee. "I couldn't get involved with him openly while I was chancellor."

I raise a brow. "Why not?"

"Because I worked for Farwan." Leviter's curt response explains everything.

"You were one of their cleanup men, weren't you?" I know the type.

A frown pulls Leviter's brows together. "I was the best."

"So I put you out of work. Sorry about that." I wonder if that means he hates me. So far, he hasn't acted like he does.

He shrugs. "I always maintained diversified interests."

"I appreciate your help." I change the subject, seeing his reluctance to discuss his past further. "What news do you have?"

Tarn accepts the need to get down to business. "Loras says his mission is going well. He'd like you to be ready to move in two months."

That seems like a short time to get appointed to the war council and obtain the classified data we need. "Do they have databases?"

Leviter shakes his head. "The nobility here cling to outmoded fashions, and that includes information storage."

"So we'll need physical access." I sigh. "That makes it harder, if it's even possible at all."

"It should be, skillfully played." Leviter sits across from me, all predatory grace. It's impossible to tell how old he is, but I read no mercy or scruple in that gaze. "You've made a good start, shaken the foundations a bit."

"How would you suggest we proceed?" Vel sounds more like himself, and I'm glad for it. I've gotten used to his manners and his courtly, formal air.

Thus invited, Leviter outlines a plan of action that's Machiavellian and diabolical in its ruthless sophistication. At first, I hesitate. Gaius seems like a decent guy-for a noble-and I hate the thought of screwing his life up worse than it already is. If he's caught, or if I fail to turn him, it means the end of the whole scheme.

But the resistance needs us.

"All right," I say at last. "I'll do it."

"You're a true patriot," Leviter responds with gentle irony.

Because this isn't my home. These aren't my people. Yet I fight as if they are.

Vel pushes to his feet. "Let us look at the Durand since that is why we came."

The painting is exquisite. It's perfectly centered in the midst of gentle lights that reveal its beauty without damaging the aged masterpiece. It is a young man, alone in a wood. The trees around him are dark and threatening, yet, from the foliage, it seems to be springtime. There's no reason for the sense of foreboding the artist has managed to convey in subtle shadows. The subject is handsome, certainly, but he also radiates a slightly helpless air. A blanket is spread on the ground before him, with the rudiments of a meal arrayed; there is enough for two. His hand is out, extended to some person beyond the edge of the canvas. From his expression, I assume he's meeting his lover, but those gathering shadows make me think something terrible is about to happen. That's the genius of Man, Waiting.

"It's worth whatever you paid for it," I say softly.

Leviter chuckles. "That presumes a great deal."

"Did you steal it?" That would be a hell of a heist. A piece like this would have been in a museum, certainly, or a private collector's vault.

But the silver fox won't be drawn. "If you learn only one thing from me, let it be this. Admit nothing."

"I'll get a message to you if I hear from Loras again," Tarn puts in. "He feels it's best if I serve as intermediary. Less risk."

He's right. A meeting with Tarn and Leviter can be written off as mutual art appreciation. There's no stigma. But if anyone catches us with the head of the resistance, it's over. And despite Nicuan antipathy to technology, they still monitor the wireless bounce. Better not to take the chance.

I never thought I'd be reliant on Tarn in this fashion.

Vel and I head out, becoming Mishani and Flavius as soon as the lift touches the ground. His private car-with driver-returns us home. I don't speak, turning over the meeting in my head. Reluctance plucks at me with nervous fingers; Leviter's plan for Gaius is further than I intended to go.

He surprises me with a kiss, but I roll with it. Surprising how real his lips feel against mine, how natural the hair between my fingers. He is a good mimic; his mouth presses with authority. It's not a deep kiss, but convincing enough for our purposes. The driver is watching through the small gap in the security panel. When the vehicle stops, we break apart.

Vel guides me out of the aircar. "Come, my sweet."

Right. The chauffeur will tell the rest of the household that we couldn't keep our hands off each other on the way back. The staff has to think he's insatiable since we're in his bedroom all the time. But there's nowhere else to talk, here.

"Is the kissing weird for you?" I ask, once the door closes and locks behind us.

"In what regard?"

"Does it feel abnormal?"

"It is not natural to my people, so in that respect, yes."

"On Gehenna, you said when you kissed Adele, you felt nothing but pressure."

He nods. "There are no nerve endings in the faux-skin."

This isn't relevant, so I shut down my curiosity and move on. "What did you want to talk about?"

"What Leviter proposed...can you do it?"

"I think he was into Mishani at the party. It's not a question of whether I can."

"But you don't want to."

"It just...it seems wrong to make him fall in love with me, then beg him to save me from you. The kid's here because he fell for the wrong person once already."

"For Leviter's plan to work, he must believe joining the resistance is the only way to keep you safe," Vel says. "And he must be willing to do anything for you."

"Yeah, that's the part that bothers me."

Vel may be able to get access to the information on his own. In time. But using Gaius as my cat's-paw will get the job done more efficiently. Leviter is known for such strategies. He isn't overly burdened with human empathy though his relationship with Tarn attests to the fact that he's not without emotion entirely.

Vel studies me. "Your call."

He won't make me do this. If I ruin this kid's life and break his heart, it's on me. Then I recall the La'hengrin starving in the provinces, "protected" by those who haven't lifted a finger for their welfare in fifty turns. My resolve firms. Yes, I'll sacrifice one for many.

This is war.

CHAPTER 41.

It's easy to fall into a routine.

To forget the people you haven't seen for a while.

A month after my transformation, I realize I have no idea what the squad is doing, if they're safe, or if the mission-whatever it is-has been successful. That makes me feel like a traitor to the cause. I'm here in this fine house, plenty to eat, while they suffer. I've forgotten that Timmon is dead. Eller is gone as well, and the memory hits me like a punch to the gut. Surely it's not normal to adapt as fast as I do. But frag, when did I ever claim to be? Whatever, I have a job to do. If there's guilt to be dealt with, I'll ball it up and look at it later.

Today, I have my fifth meeting with Gaius. I ran into him by "coincidence" at a restaurant a few weeks back, after extensive research on his habits. I was careful not to offer too much or commit to anything. He has to believe that I'm being systematically abused...and that I'm too downtrodden to orchestrate my own rescue. If the boy has any chivalrous instincts, they'll go crazy this afternoon.

I close my eyes, so I don't accidentally dodge the blow. But it doesn't come. "Go on, hit me."

"I don't think I can."

"It's part of the job description. Believe me, I can tell the difference. It's the legate, hitting Mishani."

When the blow lands, I'm glad I've never pissed Vel off. Not that he ever punched me...not even when he was hunting me. Still, my ears ring, and I see stars. I taste blood. My lip is already swelling, broken against my teeth. He had to do it right before the meeting, or my nanites will obviate the damage. Gaius needs to see that my situation is getting worse-that the legate's violence has escalated.

"Thanks," I say with a distinct lisp. "I'm on my way, then."

This time, I "sneak" out of the town house, avoiding the legate's aircar. Public transport carries me to the plaza, where I meet Gaius. En route, another young man watches me with a furrow of concern. He wears a uniform, which makes him a centurion, but he doesn't look old enough to have served ten turns on Nicu Tertius. That means he's a legacy, somebody's child born on La'heng, and his father is sufficiently well connected to get him hired on without any test of skill.

There's not a lot he can do without my permission, so he sits back. I disembark a short time later, and by the time I reach the rendezvous point, the blow looks a day old; my lip has scabbed over, and the soreness dissipates somewhat. Shit, if he's late, I'll miss my- "Mishani." There he is, right on time. He's taken care with his appearance; freshly shaved, dark hair waving down to his collar, he looks every inch the important young nobleman. When I turn, his breath catches. He takes my hands with an impetuosity he's restrained to this point.

After a moment of silent observation, he asks, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, fine." I don't meet his gaze.

"What happened?"

I offer an uncertain smile. "Things are not going as well as he wishes."

"What does that have to do with you?" he demands.

"When he's in a bad mood, I annoy him. It's not his fault."

"No man worth the name should ever treat a woman thus." He's quietly furious. With gentle hands, he touches my swollen mouth.

I can see in his boyish features that he's totally enamored of the beautiful victim Mishani appears to be. She's everything a nascent hero needs to feel worthwhile.

"I can't leave," I whisper miserably.

"This is wrong. He's supposed to protect you."

Yeah, I think. Welcome to the La'hengrin reality, Gaius.