Heather raised her hands. “We need to focus. We don’t have time for a full-scale investigation, we can’t get anyone into their ranks, and we may not even be able to find out why they’re doing what they’re doing. First we stop them—the rest comes after.”

“Here’s what we know, or at least suspect. They may not be officially tied to any of the Founder’s Movement groups, but they share sympathies. Simply put, they don’t want The Republic giving ground to anyone. Ever.”

“They sound okay to me,” said Estrin Koss, one of the Knights of the Sphere at Heather’s disposal.

“As far as maintaining and defending our borders goes, yes. But the more extreme elements—and you can be sure Kittery is among them—aren’t content with mere defense. They want to keep us safe by eradicating our enemies, current and potential, once and for all.”

“Preemptive strikes against potential enemies?” said Rick Santangelo, the other Knight on Heather’s team. “Have they heard about the HPG problems? We don’t even know what’s going on inside our own borders, much less in the rest of known space. This is not a good time to run out on a preemptive crusade.”

“Is there ever a right time for a preemptive crusade?” asked Duncan, the intern who never seemed to be more than five meters from Heather. She shot him a look reminding him he wasn’t supposed to speak, but she couldn’t say she entirely disagreed with his sentiment.

“Do you think they’re getting any outside support?” Santangelo asked. “One House or Clan secretly pushing for a preemptive strike against another?”

“I don’t think so. It would be too much of a gamble for the outsiders—Founder’s Movement extremists don’t differentiate between groups that aren’t part of The Republic, and you can’t be sure who they’ll want to go against first. Hell, they may lobby for us to charge in every direction at once.”

“At least it’s just an internal threat,” Koss said. “Not a problem with foreign influences.”

“I hate to say it,” Heather said, “but we may be getting close to a point where internal threats are just as serious as external ones. Let’s be honest, the current state of The Republic is giving a lot of people plenty of things to be upset about.”

No one replied. Koss opened her mouth, but closed it again without speaking.

“So here’s the battle plan. We have a few video feeds from the riot. We need to scan every inch of them, identify who in the crowd is an insurgent and do everything we can to put a name with the face.

“Second, if they’re planning something big, they need firepower. We need to watch as many points of entry as we can, see if we can catch them bringing guns, bombs, anything else into the area.

“Finally…” Heather took a deep breath. “We need to push anyone we know with strong Founder’s Movement connections.” She kept talking as Koss tried to break in. “I’m not trying to paint everyone with the same brush here; I know plenty of Founder’s Movement people who I consider dedicated Republicans. But if anyone can point us in the right direction—if we can find a link to the extreme elements of the movement—these are the people who can do it.”

Everyone in the room, even Koss, nodded.

“Does that mean,” Santangelo ventured, “that you’ll be speaking to some of your colleagues?”

Heather grimaced. “That’s exactly what I mean. On the eve of an election, I’ll be asking some other Paladins if they have connections to traitors and insurgents.” She grabbed her noteputer and started to leave. “They should be enjoyable conversations.”

As she walked out, Duncan trailed her, a small phone held to his ear. She hadn’t heard it ring.

“Paladin GioAvanti, I’m getting something about the Armed Brotherhood of Belgium claiming a link to the Stormhammers…”

Office of Knight of the Sphere Cray Stansill, Geneva

Terra, Prefecture X

6 December 3134

“He’s discreet,” Cray Stansill said. “Nothing illegal about that.”

He was on the defensive. Jonah backpedaled.

“No, no, of course not. I’m not looking to get the man in trouble—just information.”

Stansill did not look convinced. He leaned forward in his chair, glaring, trying to summon the power of his surroundings to cow Jonah a little—even though Jonah was a Paladin and Stansill a Knight.

It didn’t work. Jonah had been in one government office or another all day, and they had all started to look alike. When he only entered one or two a year (including his own), he didn’t notice the similar drabness that pervaded the government building. Every office had the lacquered desk, the tall bookshelves, the plush leather chair for the occupant, the hard-backed chair for the visitor. Small details, like pictures of family, changed, but the general impression remained overwhelmingly the same.

In the space of two days of interviews, Jonah had amassed a sizable dossier on the career of Henrik Morten. He was indeed impressively discreet, leaving a long trail of satisfied sponsors but no actual evidence of illegal activities. There was plenty of rumor and hearsay, but no proof.

The thread that had led him to Stansill was a tangled one. He’d spoken with two Knights, four Senatorial aides, and a handful of lower-level politicos, and a few of them had mentioned Stansill as a person who had spoken admiringly of Morten.

That’s where I am after two days, Jonah thought to himself. Calling someone who’d said nice things about another person a “lead.”

Stansill seemed to be a good sort, a Knight pleased with his position and more concerned with serving The Republic than moving up through the ranks. His salt-and-pepper crew cut made him look like a middle-aged cadet in basic training. But word of Jonah’s interviews had been traveling rapidly through the office building, and Stansill had been defensive from the beginning.

“Why do you need information about Morten?” Stansill said, steel ringing in his tone.

“I’ve been hearing good things about him,” Jonah said calmly. “Taking care of a sensitive problem is one thing, but taking care of a sensitive problem without causing a fuss—that’s a special ability.”

“Exactly. That’s all I’m saying,” said Stansill, temporarily mollified. “I’d heard you’d been asking around about him, and word is you’ve been appointed to look into Paladin Steiner-Davion’s death. I’d hate to think somehow Henrik was coming under suspicion just because he’s an excellent troubleshooter.”

Jonah laughed, knowing it was too late to deny what he was working on. “I wish my investigation had progressed far enough that I could put anyone under suspicion. No, I’m still in the earliest stages—I’m looking for good help. A troubleshooter. But I need to make sure anyone I hire is capable.”

“So this is all just …vetting?”

“Exactly.”

Stansill visibly relaxed. “All right. Good. That, I can help with.”

“Great. So you obviously know Henrik Morten.”

“Yes, yes. I could tell you a few stories, in fact.”

Jonah smiled congenially. “Go ahead!”

Stansill leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. “I’ve only met him once, myself, at a reception here in town. I can’t even remember who introduced us; those evenings become a blur, you know? We only talked briefly, but he didn’t seem too enthusiastic about being there. I got the impression he’d rather be doing something else.”

“What else?” Jonah asked.

“Anything else. A reception isn’t about doing, and Morten is a guy who gets things done. He was out of place there, so we didn’t say much to each other.”

“So he’s a doer—but what does he get done?”

“Oh, I’ve heard a lot of things. But there’s one, there was this one time, out on Ryde, during the rebuilding. Do you remember when that meteor hit?”