Fated Blades (Kinsmen #3)(15)

He realized why he was being petty. He liked this. Without meaning to, Ramona had rubbed his nose in what he was missing. He would never come to a secret room on the Terraces with Cassida. He would never enjoy a delicious meal in comfortable silence and then discuss serious plans and plots with her. His wife had no interest in sharing that part of his world, and she filled every silence with conversation, meaningful or not.

He also understood that he had to draft an immediate divorce agreement. If he were ever to find this again, it wouldn’t be with Cassida, and now having experienced it, he wouldn’t settle.

“I apologize, Kinswoman Adler.”

Ramona drew back.

“This morning taught me many things I didn’t know. I learned that my wife is cheating on me. I learned that she stole our research. I learned that foreign troops have targeted my family, and that my lifelong enemy is the only person capable of helping me. It requires an adjustment.”

Her expression softened, and he was struck by the profound sadness he saw in her eyes. For a moment Ramona looked as if someone close to her had died, and then she hid it, and her eyes were once again calm and warm. He was forgiven.

“Apology accepted. This has been a trying morning for both of us.”

“Here’s what I think. Vandal leadership is planning a coup,” Matias said.

“From what you’ve told me, it wouldn’t be improbable. They are already kept apart from civilians and the rest of the military. Since they are used to punish rogue units, they are viewed as outsiders by other soldiers, and they believe themselves to be above other armed forces.”

He nodded. “The seco shields would give their ships a massive advantage against other SFR forces. Given time, the Vandals could expand their use to small craft. They would go through the regular troops like a knife through butter. That’s why they disguised themselves. They don’t care if we know who they are, as long as the SFR doesn’t get wind of them being here.”

Ramona thought about it. “They would want to acquire all of the technology, everything we have in addition to the Davenports’ share.”

“Yes.”

“But they didn’t approach us. They must have changed strategy after the Davenports turned them down. And how did they know we were working on seco fields in the first place? Someone is helping them. Someone local.”

“Not only that, but the Vandals wouldn’t have taken commercial transport here. They rely on numbers.”

Ramona drew back. “You think they have a warship in system?”

“I would bet my arm on it.”

“State-of-the-art identification is one thing,” Ramona said. “A foreign warship in system is another. They would require a diplomatic waver.”

“Which can be granted by a federal senator,” Matias finished, his tone grim. “Like Theodore Redding Drewery.”

Ramona widened her eyes. “Cassida’s father?”

He nodded.

“Wow,” Ramona said. “That’s fucked up.”

Matias drained the rest of his lemonade. It tasted bitter.

“What we have is a lot of conjecture. I’m going to verify some of this.”

“No, let me. They are probably watching you. If you start making inquiries, their alarms will go off.”

“They’re watching you as well.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Matias, let me do this. I know what I’m doing, and I will do it quietly.”

He owed her for his moment of pettiness. “Please, be my guest.”





CHAPTER 4


“ . . . so glad that the artist worked out for you.” Ramona smiled.

On the screen Aria Teeling, a short, plump, middle-aged woman in the sky-blue uniform of Orbital Traffic Control, smiled back. “Thank you again. You should see the mural. It’s to die for. You have to come over for dinner sometime soon.”

“Send me the date.” She would keep it, too. She liked both Aria and her husband.

“I will hold you to it.” Aria glanced to the side. “And here it is. Looks like Senator Drewery signed off on the permit.”

“I’m in your debt.”

“Nonsense. Friends don’t owe. Oh, and you will love this. It’s not the first time our dear senator pushed a permit through for the SFR. He’s done it before, seven years ago.”

Ramona kissed her fingers and offered them to the screen.

“Oh, stop it. I’m happy to help.”

They said their goodbyes and ended the call.

Matias stared at her as if she had sprouted a second head.

“What?”

“The New Delphi Spaceport Customs crew leader owes you a favor because you remembered that his father likes Conuvian pottery.”

“Yes, I make sure to send a piece every year on his birthday. They are a nice family.”

“The assistant immigration court clerk loves you because you helped him smuggle in a foo foo dog for his wife.”

“It is an Albine Needlehair Spaniel. They’re fierce.”

“All seven kilos of them.”

“Small dog, big heart.”

“The OTC chief cracked a file open for you because you got her and her husband an artist to paint a wall in their provincial home.”