“Why do we care?” Jesup said. “It would be good to know what deal they might have landed so we can counter it, but why send me? You should be able to get that information just by talking with the lower castes, quiaff?”

“Neg. The lower castes do not know of it. Most of the warriors do not know of it. Why keep it a secret, especially from his own personnel?” Petr disliked giving Snow her due, but he continued regardless. “Considering how badly we proceeded in our negotiations, would not ovKhan Sha shout a deal with Clan Jade Falcon from the depths of space, quiaff?”

“Aff,” Jesup responded slowly, as though thinking his way through it. Petr flinched as a particularly noxious beetle the size of his hand splattered across the front windshield; it immediately sloughed off the anti-dirt film in rivulets of broken purple shells and almost fluorescent green pulped guts.

“It could be nothing,” Jesup finally responded, as Petr moved into the city proper; with so few cars about this early in the morning, he felt reasonably safe in opening up the throttle, shooting the little vehicle down towering mountains of steel (as if local law enforcement would stop them).

“Aff. But it could be everything.”

“Where are you getting this information?”

“That is not something you need to know.” Not even loyal Jesup would likely give Petr the time of day, ovKhan or not, if he knew where such information originated. If Jesup knew of the strange relationship he was developing…

“Oh magnificent ovKhan, I apologize if I have offended. This little one is not worth your trouble.” The man actually managed to turn and bow several times in the close confines of the hoverjeep. Once more, the words carried humor, and Petr warmed to the friendship.

Perhaps he could allow himself a friendship now, without diving into the deeper questions others had stirred up. Just until he found out what he needed to about everything looming around him.

“Then you will do it?”

“Aff, ovKhan.”

“Be careful, and discreet.”

“I am always careful and discreet, ovKhan.”

Petr looked at Jesup and found a wide grin plastered on the other man’s face. He was anything but. And they both knew it. As they flashed past the last of the downtown buildings and saw the tops of Delta DropShips in the distance, Petr knew he did not have a choice.

More important, he knew he could count on Jesup. Had counted on him, without a word of praise or recognition, for years. Though such was the way of the Clans—honor to the Clan for his service—Petr realized now there was another need.

When all of this is done, perhaps I can …recognize. The idea trailed out behind him as he raced into a new day.

Field Office, Halifax

Vanderfox, Adhafera

Prefecture VII, The Republic

8 September 3134

The final deal sat on his desk. Petr enjoyed ignoring it. Master Tidinic surprised him and actually waited the entire allotted time instead of turning it around the same day, which he half expected. Several days now had passed beyond the deadline of when he said he would make a decision and lift off-planet; Petr enjoyed letting the merchants swing in the wind.

Of course, there were other reasons he stayed on planet.

The fleeting pleasure sped away as quickly as it came, and frustration returned to gnaw at him. He had difficulty concentrating and could not bend his mind to what needed doing. Reports and reviews were beginning to stack up. Sickness, downtime, maintenance reports, personnel reviews, lost revenue: he’d be buried under a mountain of paper soon, if he could not regain his efficiency.

The impression of having all the time in the world when he left the Merchant House only days ago departed as quickly as Sha upon learning of the larger, riper markets likely to be found on Stewart. Now the force of time, each tick of each second, seemed to slam into him, rocking him with urgency. He could feel things in motion, great plans put into action outside of his control, and yet he felt nailed to the floor with iron spikes.

“ovKhan,” a voice said from outside the small, curtained office in the field tent. Though it managed to keep out most of the pounding rain, noises still easily filtered through.

“Enter.” He straightened up. Tried to hide his disappointment when he realized it was not Jesup. The man had reported in once, two days ago, to let him inform him that no leads had surfaced. Nothing since. Where was he? What was happening?

He knew you could not push such things too quickly, but he felt the need for speed.

saFactor Tia bowed into the room, her hair plastered to her delicate scalp, with rivulets cascading down her fully soaked clothing. Though he took a deep breath for a confrontation he had expected some days past, it dawned on him she did not carry the scowl that had tattooed her face for the past week. She actually looked slightly confused.

“saFactor?” He waved a casual hand for her to make sure the flap sealed tightly, then actually indicated for her to take a seat. “What is it?”

She reached inside her jacket and pulled out a small cube, which she carefully handed over. Confused, but willing to go along, he took the cube, pulled the data reader to the center of the desk, powered it up and slotted the cube.

After a moment’s disorientation of a three-dimensional projection spitting snow and hiss, the image of a Fox Clansman (Beta?) materialized: bald head, large ears and eyes and a mouth that wore a perpetual sneer. In a soft voice, the man began to speak.

“saFactor Tia, I regret to inform you I will not be able to make our meeting either this day or any day in the foreseeable future.” The man stopped, closed his eyes as though he wished to avoid his next words, then continued after licking his lips. “There have been several accidents, both within our compound and on the outbound Cards of Fate , all resulting in deaths. Though some might believe this simply to be a poor day for avoiding errors, saKhan Clarke is not so sanguine and has ordered all personnel to lift off-planet. He has decreed Adhafera enemy territory and we are to deal with any further security and safety concerns with… any needed force.” The man looked positively sick, but finished a last thought before the machine clicked off. “I hope to see you in the not too distant future, Tia.”

On another day he might have been curious about the relationship of his saFactor (a woman he would not have credited to care about any type of physical relationship that did not impact on the art of the deal) and a Clansman from another Aimag, but the news that all Beta personnel were lifting off-world took his whole attention.

“Stravag!” He slammed his hand down on the table, making the reader leap and tip over, sending the cube tumbling with the same urgency as his thoughts.

How, by the Founder, could he find out anything if they lifted off? He had been handed Sha Stewart, and now he would not get a thing out of it. Unless Jesup had found something. Anything.

“I know, ovKhan. I cannot believe the locals would stoop to this myself. They appear so peaceful and have treated us with respect. It is hard to fathom.”

For a moment Petr could not even place her words, he was so wrapped up in his own worries. Then their import bludgeoned through.

The locals. Accidents. He leaned forward and very carefully righted the reader, while reaching across to the edge of the desk where the cube had arrested itself before the sudden drop to the dirt floor below.

Savashri. Now he would lose this deal as well. How many months sitting on this rock and now he might have to lift off without a single card left in his hand?