Where a terrorist group was determined to act, Low-Intensity Terrorism had no defense. As the government moved to give itself more tools to root out the terrorists, they would be depriving the citizenry of more personal freedoms, which would breed more dissatisfaction. If someone like Niemeyer toed the line but didn’t cross it, he’d have to be extremely lucky to stop the terrorists.

LIT also hit the government and corporate concerns hard where they could feel it: in the wallet. All too often people are classified as consumers or constituents and dismissed. C-bills and stones, on the other hand, show up on spreadsheets and determine stock prices and bonuses. Once those numbers start showing up in red, jobs are in jeopardy and action has to be taken. Corporations will stem losses as they must, ethically or not. While some might hire more security personnel to guard their assets, if we presented them with an economical plan where they could avoid that cost by buying themselves off our hit list, they’d choose our option.

I thought hard as I walked. LIT would bring the Germaynes down. It would take several months, but their government would fall apart, and Emblyn would be able to slide in to replace them. He’d be happy and, who knows, perhaps he’d even be good for Basalt. I could certainly hope that, because the Germaynes were history.

Of course, Emblyn’s taking control was predicated on his being Gypsy’s boss. I would have to confirm that. His taking over, however, wouldn’t quite be in keeping with my directive to preserve stability, unless, of course, the Germaynes were inherently unstable. I’d have to check into that, too.

My stroll took me all over Manville. I ate lunch at a trendy little place on the ground floor of the city’s tallest building. All around me people talked investments, stocks, money, politics and, of course, sex. People blurt out things in public places when they think they’re in a private conversation, not aware that the person sitting in the booth behind them is actually closer to them than the person they are facing. It was the usual who was doing what with whom and her husband not knowing about it, and while I say it was the usual, and that I’ve heard it a million times before, it’s just one of those things which ends up being fascinating.

Again, more of the cracks in the society made themselves apparent. Somehow it was more scandalous for a man to be going over to a Drac section of Manville to visit a house of ill repute, than his getting a “massage” at some cheap dive in a run-down Davion neighborhood down by the river. Those people were known to be dirty, after all, the whispered wisdom went, and they would couple with anything. The irony of one of the good folks being willing to lower himself was lost on these folks, but they fully succeeded in objectifying and dehumanizing people who, less than six months before, had been fellow citizens and friends.

Once I’d gotten my fill, I continued meandering. I stopped in at a file store and downloaded reading material into my noteputer. It was the usual tourist stuff: local atlas, highlights and hotspots, and other almanac-type data. To that I added an unauthorized Emblyn biography, the same for the Germaynes and a list of local charitable organizations and what they did.

By mid-afternoon I returned to the Grand Germayne and found I had a visitor, but not in my room this time. Elle emerged from the bar and smiled at me as I waited at the lift. I nodded. “I kept your place warm last night.”

Her smile broadened. “If only I could have slipped away.”

“Indeed, you wouldn’t have had to wait in the bar.”

Elle’s smile slacked a notch. “Oh, I don’t think Gypsy would have been welcome to wait with me.”

“No, indeed.” I glanced back at the bar. “Shall we?”

She didn’t take my arm, but did rub against me, which I did find distracting, as I am sure she intended. We crossed the lobby to the bar, which was elegantly appointed in deep mahogany and brown leather. The rest of the hotel might have aged less well than I could have hoped in the past century, but the bar had just gotten darker and imbued with an ambience that I greatly enjoyed.

Gypsy, attired casually in a jacket and slacks of black, white shirt and black shoes, lifted a drink at the corner table in a salute. I let Elle precede me to the table and took pleasure in watching her walk in her dark green dress. The fabric had a bit of a satiny sheen to it, but was not garish. The gold-link belt matched her bracelet and earrings, and even hinted at the gold chain pattern on the heel of her shoes.

I sat facing Gypsy, with my back to the room. Elle sat between us, to my right, with her left knee pressed against mine. When the waitress came, I looked at the bar and didn’t recognize any of the whiskies they offered, so I ordered a Diamond Negro.

Gypsy smiled. “You learn quickly.”

“Pays to know the battlefield.”

He nodded, sipping his drink which, as nearly as I could tell, was some mixed thing that wasn’t fruity, but doubtless was sweet. Elle had a tall, slender glass with a lime wedge in it. It could have been nothing more than tonic water and I idly wondered if I’d taste any alcohol if I kissed her. The waitress finished pouring my beer into a frosted glass—an amenity the Egg did not offer—and retreated.

Gypsy brought his glass forward. “To Cleansing Storm.”

I touched my glass to his and hers then drank. The beer did taste as good as I recalled and I flicked a drop from the corner of my mouth with a finger. “Cleansing Storm? Please don’t tell me that’s what Colonel Kitten wants to call some huge op.”

Elle smiled and Gypsy rolled his eyes. “Oh, no, Cleansing Storm will likely make the Cat apoplectic, but this concerns me very little at the moment. Cleansing Storm will be the name of our organization. I have consulted with my superiors and we will get things lit in a big way here.”

“Good, very good.” I smiled broadly. “I have a key target in mind, but there’s something very important I need to know first.”

“And that would be?”

“Did you intend to use me as a stalking horse for the Cat, setting me up to be neutralized before he came after you, or is that just a happy coincidence?”

Gypsy’s eyes widened. “It was your plan…”

I set my glass down carefully and slowly rotated it in my fingertips. “Gypsy, let’s get one thing straight. You know I’m not stupid. LIT proves it. You’d given me command of a battalion before I offered my plan. Were you trying to get me killed?”

His dark eyes glittered for a moment, then he smiled slyly and sat back. “I am not stupid either. I watched the Cat and Isabel creating their own little coterie within my organization. To remove one or both would delay my plans from moving ahead. By interposing you, I gave them something else to think about. LIT is yet one more thing and they are under the impression it was because of LIT that I brought you in here. I was not looking to cause you trouble, primarily because I am mindful of how well you handled yourself on Helen. I don’t see the two of them being obstacles for you.”

“Obstacles, no, but trouble, yes.” I drank more of my beer. “And when one of them is found floating north to Contressa on the Broad River, will this cause you a problem?”

“I would appreciate it not being a complete surprise.”

“Noted.” I licked my lips and felt Elle’s pressure against my knee increase. “About my compensation.”

He laughed. “I admire your restraint. The Cat has a most-favored agreement saying he makes a stone more than anyone else I’ve hired.”

“That’s fine, but there was that consulting fee you were going to pay me, and my signing bonus.”

“Will thirty thousand do?”

“For starters. I like performance bonuses, too.”

A frown began to corrugate Gypsy’s forehead. “That could get expensive.”