Senate Offices, Geneva

Terra, Prefecture X

17 December 3134

Returning to the Hall of Government after talking to Cragin should have been a relief to Heather, but it wasn’t. After some of the things he had told her, and after she’d followed a few trails that he’d pointed out, she wasn’t sure which building held the more dangerous characters.

She was certain that some of Cragin’s information was exaggerated, that other pieces were inflated to get her to annoy politicians for whom Cragin had a particular dislike. But even if she dismissed certain elements, there was enough there to alter her perception of the Republican Senate.

The first person she wanted to talk to was Senator Geoffrey Mallowes, but he was nowhere to be found. His home staff said he was in his office, his office staff said he was in a committee meeting, and the committee, when she poked her head in their meeting room, said they thought he’d gone home.

Not wanting to run around in circles for the rest of the day, Heather moved down to the second name on her list—Senator Lina Derius of Prefecture X.

She had to size up Derius’ receptionist and quickly decide between charm and intimidation. He was tight-lipped and wiry, with a cutting gaze, and Heather was in a bad mood. Intimidation, then.

“Is the Senator in?” Heather asked.

“Yes, but not available at the moment. Did you have an appointment, Paladin GioAvanti?”

Well done, Heather silently acknowledged. Pull the “do you know who I am” card right out of my hand.

“No.”

“We recommend making an appointment. The Senator’s schedule is quite full most days.”

“I’m going in to see her. You can let her know if you want.”

The receptionist jumped to his feet. “I can’t let you do that,” he said, but Heather was already past him.

There was more security than just the receptionist, of course. He could liquidate her long before she reached the Senator’s office if he so chose. But one of the advantages of being a Paladin was that other government officials seldom decided to use extreme measures against you.

“Paladin GioAvanti! I can’t let you go in!” the receptionist said, practically nipping at her heels.

“Then stop me,” she said as she strode forward.

“Please, Paladin GioAvanti, don’t make me call the authorities.”

She stopped abruptly and turned, making the receptionist walk into her. He bounced backward awkwardly.

“Please call them,” she said. “I’ll have a very interesting story for them when they arrive.”

Senator Lina Derius was engaged in an important meeting with two egg rolls and a bowl of duck sauce. She did not look pleased at Heather’s entrance, but she also did not look surprised.

“Paladin GioAvanti. How gracious of you to ignore all diplomatic protocol. What can I do for you before security escorts you out?”

She stood as she spoke, apparently to show Heather that she nearly matched her in height. Her jacket made her shoulders seem nearly twice as broad as they actually were, which in turn made her her waist seem thinner than it actually was. Her face echoed the triangle of her torso, making her look like a set of arrowheads pointing at the ground.

“You can tell me what Henrik Morten told you or did for you that was worth 20,000 stones.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve never paid anyone that much money for a single job.”

Heather pulled out a sheaf of papers. “Not in an easily traceable way, no. But here’s a thousand from your office account. Another thousand from a personal account. Two thousand five hundred from your reelection committee coffers. And I could go on. Every transfer made in a three-day period.”

“How dare you go looking through my records…”

“…says one of the main supporters of the Vasquez act. You support this kind of thing, remember? And indignation is not an explanation.”

“This Mr. Mortar, or whatever you say his name is, must have provided some services for my campaign,” Derius said briskly. “Many people do that. Talk to my campaign manager. My receptionist will give you the contact info on your way out.”

“Henrik Morten gave some of that same money to Stone’s Legacy, a group which has recently come under suspicion of diverting funds to a number of terrorist organizations.”

“It was the same money, you say?” Derius said in arch tones. “Interesting. I had no idea you could track individual bills of electronic currency as it passed from hand to hand.”

“You gave Morten twenty thousand. He gave Stone’s Legacy at least half of that within the next month. Some of that likely found its way to the Kittery Renaissance, which very well may be planning to blow this city up in the next day or two. And you still know nothing about this?”

“It sounds to me as if you know little more than nothing. At best you have a vague trail accusing this Morten character of donating money to questionable people. The most you can accuse me of doing is paying an employee who later displayed bad judgment. Which is no crime.”

“This will unravel on you, I swear it.”

“Then you keep pulling on your little strings,” Derius said. “I’ll be working on actual governing.”

Heather fumed for a minute, occasionally moving her hands as if she were going to say something.

“If that’s all, Paladin GioAvanti…”

“Yes,” said Heather, and she rose, still trying to look defiant as she departed.

She returned to the reception desk.

“I’m not sure if I should be impressed that your interview with the Senator ended before security arrived, or saddened that security is so slow.”

Derius and her receptionist have been working together too long, Heather told herself. They sound too much alike.

“I did what I came here to do,” Heather said in rather plaintive tones.

“You did? In so short a time?”

“Yes. I just needed contact information for an individual.”

The receptionist snorted. “You mean to tell me you invaded the Senator’s office for an address? I could have given that to you.”

“Not the one I’m looking for. I’m sure you understand that the Senator has some contact information that you don’t have.”

“Impossible. The Senator trusts me with everything.”

Heather called up a screen on her noteputer.

“Henrik Morten,” she said.

The receptionist’s hands flew, and he called up information that he read to Heather.

She slumped her head, looking defeated. “That’s the same information she gave me.”

“And that’s what you had to break into her office for.” The receptionist shook his head. “With all due respect, Paladin GioAvanti, I’m not sure you’re applying your brute force in the right places.”

Heather shot a glare at the receptionist, as if pondering a retort, but she said nothing. She let her shoulders fall, then walked away—the very picture of defeat. Or so she hoped.

Once she was out of view of the receptionist, her shoulders lifted and her pace quickened. That wasn’t her preferred method of getting information but, when dealing with people who thrived on humiliation, sometimes it was necessary to give them a little of what they wanted to get what you sought. So much the better if they ended the encounter thinking they had stymied her; hopefully, thinking her defeated, they would ignore her as she finished her work.