Mallowes did his best to establish a convivial atmosphere, regaling Gareth with stories of the Sinclair family, often delivered with a dry, understated wit. Gareth knew the Senator had more on his mind than family history, but the important conversation would come later. Mallowes never liked to spoil a good meal with talk of politics.

With the clearing away of the dessert plates and the arrival of after-dinner cordials, the talk changed to business like a sailboat responding to the wind.

“Now, Gareth, I hope you will not perceive me as overly blunt, but I need to ask you a question, and I believe the direct approach to it is most appropriate,” Mallowes said.

Gareth simply nodded.

“Good lad. The question is, what is your assessment of your abilities to fill your new position?”

“I have to admit,” Gareth said, “I’m still getting used to the idea.”

“It may take you longer to accept than anyone else in your family.” Mallowes sipped at his cordial. “They will be surprised at the timing of the announcement, but not at its occurrence. You deserved the appointment.”

Gareth shrugged. “I can make a case for elevating any of half a dozen Knights who were just as ready as I was. Maybe readier.”

“I’ve seen the lists. The others may have been brave and well trained, but they lacked your background.” The Senator frowned, and all traces of the grandfather vanished. “Devlin Stone was not always as careful as he should have been about who he decided to raise to Paladin, and look where that got us—Ezekiel Crow! I’m glad to see that Redburn has started looking at things more sensibly.”

Gareth smiled. “Too bad he’s ending his term just as he started to be sensible.”

Mallowes, thankfully, took the remark in its intended spirit. “Of course I mean no criticism of either Exarch. If I am concerned about any of Stone’s later actions, it is only such actions as undermined his own goals. Stone had a clear vision in founding The Republic, and it is a vision to which we must closely hew.”

Vision. Founding. Gareth recognized those words—political code words used often by factions making assorted noises across Terra. He realized, uncomfortably, that he was not sure where Mallowes stood on some of the issues tearing at The Republic, and knew he needed to speak carefully until he did.

“And now we need a third Exarch,” Mallowes said. “A decision in which you suddenly play a crucial role. I realize, of course, that you have just ascended to your new position, but I also realize that the whole Republic, not merely the Paladins, has opinions to offer on this subject. Have you given much thought to the matter?”

“Only as an abstract question,” Gareth said carefully. “And that was based on what I had heard about the Paladins, not on any extensive personal interaction with them. I suppose getting to know the men and women themselves may adjust my thinking.”

“You should be sure to speak with Kelson Sorenson,” Mallowes said. “He is a man of integrity and vision.”

He was also a man with an unpopular family, Gareth thought to himself. The Sorenson name carried a heavy burden dating to Free Rasalhague’s struggle for independence, where the Sorensons were seen as too conciliatory to the Draconis Combine. Once Rasalhague finally achieved independence, the Sorenson name had been dragged through the mud, the family painted as traitors to their own people for supporting the Combine. Whether it was fair or not, Kelson Sorenson still carried the burden of his family’s past. He would not be a popular choice.

“He’s capable, so far as I’ve seen,” Gareth said aloud. “Honest, too, which I used to think would be a given among Knights and Paladins.” He paused a moment before continuing. “As for vision… I can’t say I’ve ever heard him put forward an original idea.”

“Some people might say we’ve had enough original ideas for a while,” Mallowes returned quickly. “They might believe that it’s time for The Republic of the Sphere to remember why it was founded and live up to those ideas.”

“Perhaps,” Gareth said.

Mallowes gave him a sharp glance. “You don’t agree?”

Gareth began speaking, and surprised himself by how quickly and passionately his words flowed. “I think speaking of The Republic only in terms of planets—who holds what, when and why—is to treat it as a large collection of rocks instead of a body of humanity. We have factions within our borders, we have enemies without, and we must take into account their actions, their armies and their goals when planning future action. We cannot just choose to focus on one rock or another.”

He had said too much. Mallowes’ face was suffused with the anger renowned throughout the Senate. Gareth braced himself against the coming fury.

It didn’t come. Mallowes managed to push away his wrath with a smile. “You are both thoughtful and compassionate. You have been well trained indeed.”

The Senator stood, brushing away loose crumbs with his napkin. “Remember, though, that your education is not yet complete. There will be much to learn, and you do not have the leisure of time. There are many forces at work in this election, and not all respond to reason and kindness as you do. They have other, less attractive methods at their disposal. Be wary.”

“I will,” Gareth said, clasping Mallowes’ hand. He still sees me as a student, a child, Gareth told himself, forgetting the years I have spent as a warrior.

Gareth had seen methods of persuasion that the Senator faced only in nightmares.

Pension Flambard, Geneva

Terra, Prefecture X

27 November 3134

At the Pension Flambard, Jonah Levin and the newly hired Burton Horn conferred late into the evening. Madame Flambard, forewarning them of her arrival by a discreet cough, brought in coffee and chocolates on a silver tray.

Once agreement on the terms of Horn’s employment had been reached, Jonah laid out his plan for dividing the work.

“To begin,” he said, “we’re working from the assumption that Victor Steiner-Davion is dead because some person or persons physically intervened and made him so. Law enforcement in Santa Fe is tracing the perpetrators of the physical attack; we don’t need to duplicate their efforts.”

He shook his head ruefully, and went on, “Whoever did the work was undoubtedly outside talent hired for the occasion, and if they haven’t already left Terra then they’ve gone so far to ground it would take a MiningMech to dig them out.”

“I could find them,” said Horn. There was no false modesty in the words, only a statement of fact.

“It would be a wasted effort,” Jonah replied. “They will have been hired by somebody anonymous working for somebody unknown. And such people are well paid to be incurious.”

“What should I be looking for, then, in Santa Fe?” Horn asked.

“The anonymous,” said Jonah. “Or better yet, the unknown. As well as any hints you can pick up concerning what Victor might have been doing that required his death at this particular time.”

“As old as he was,” Horn said, “he can’t have been up to doing very much.”

“Victor was scheduled to give the opening address to the conclave, and now that address will never be given. It’s hard to not make a connection. So, first—” Jonah counted off on his fingers “—he was doing something. And somebody found out about it. And whatever he was doing scared that person so badly that he or she sent for professional assistance.”

“I think I follow,” Horn said, nodding gravely. “I’m to leave the job of apprehending the actual perpetrators to the Santa Fe police, while I concentrate on finding out what Steiner-Davion was doing and who might be threatened by it.”

“Just so.”