“Why no heads-up?” Trevor asked.

  “Ruin the surprise.”

  “Yeah. It was a hell of a surprise when you wasted no time insulting the woman I love.”

  Connor faced Trevor, chewing on a half-smoked cigar. He talked through tiny puffs.

  “What’s-her-name might be a fine, upstanding coit, but she’s still leftovers.”

  “Her name is Shireena. And you ...”

  “Shut the fuck up, bruv. Right before I left this station, I told you not to give up on Effie. And you ...” He pointed his whiskey glass at Trevor, “promised not to raise the white flag. Did you even try?”

  Great. Here we go.

  Connor might’ve been the one wearing shiny things on his chest, but he had not been promoted to older brother.

  “I remember everything we said to each other, C. You told me you’d never let me down. What happened in the first ten minutes after you returned?”

  Connor raised his arms in surrender.

  “Next time I see Shireena, I’ll make it right.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’ll change my mind. You and Effie were perfect for each other. You had a bond for life.”

  “We still do. She’s called Ana Marie. The girl who worships the ground you walk on.”

  Trevor turned away. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not even close. Sure, brothers argued; it was an unwritten rule. But today?

  “Were you bullshitting Ana about her gift?”

  “No. It’s coming. She’ll love it.”

  “Good. I can forgive a lot of things, but not lying to my girl.”

  Connor set his drink on a side table.

  “Look, I’m sorry, bruv. The last ten months changed me. You’re looking at a new man. I found my place. My purpose. I’m still your brother. I love you. And that’s where it ends.”

  Connor drilled those emerald eyes into Trevor with a simple demand: Do not dare look away.

  Why didn’t Trevor see it coming? Did he actually expect they’d pick up where they left off?

  “I sensed it when we hugged. You stashed away the old Connor.”

  “Good riddance. Sonofabitch wasted all those years.”

  “And now? You’re happy?”

  He replied with steeled jaws, chin up.

  “Never been happier or prouder. I’m making a difference out there. I’m helping to shape the future. Someday, I’ll be an Admiral. I’ll command men and women by thousands or even millions.”

  He punctuated each point with his cigar hand, spilling ash.

  “Look how far we’ve come, Trev. You’re the cudfrucking Governor of Amity Station. We’re leaders, like we were always supposed to be. The Stallion brothers were meant for big things. Grandfather Max knew. He drilled it into us, even when we didn’t listen.”

  Trevor agreed with the final point. Max preached until his last days, focused on Chancellor legacy.

  “I’ll admit, C. The last year has been a whirlwind. I, uh, have so many questions. The first being how you rose in the ranks so quickly. I’m no military man, but First Specialist to Lieutenant in less than a year is impressive.”

  Connor winked and pointed toward the humidor.

  “Sure, bruv. I’ll tell you how I earned this jewelry after you tell me who you screwed over to get this job. First, light up.”

  Trevor wasn’t about to pass on that deal. He also hadn’t forgotten Mau’s last words. He fired up a cigar but limited his beverage to water. The brothers sat across from each other, smoke streams rising.

  “It’s not a long story,” he told Connor. “Murrill was a corrupt piece of shit. Haas wanted me. She forced him out. He challenged me. I blackmailed him and sent him home. He screwed himself out of this job. Amity’s a better station now.”

  Connor kicked up on the ottoman.

  “Blackmail? My brother, the law and order man, playing outside the box. I love it. Sounds like both of us grew a spine.”

  “My hands aren’t clean, but I don’t regret my actions. You know what this station means to me.”

  “Sure do.” Connor dropped his smile and pulled on the cigar. “I was there when you boxed up Hoshi Oda.”

  With your help, brother.

  “You didn’t have a problem at the time. Not after I explained why we needed to contain the situation.”

  “I’ve had months to reflect. Sure, Hoshi was a killer. Working for the enemy. At least so far as you saw it.”

  Trevor laughed.

  “What in ten hells are you implying?”

  “Just working it out from her point of view. See, Hoshi might have thought she was doing the right thing. Reckon she reported to a chain of command, just like you did. Like I do now. Maybe she was a good soldier doing her bit. Ever wonder what happened to her?”

  Interesting. Why does he care after all this time?

  Telling the truth compromised little.

  “She was tortured. Several months back, she escaped from a place SI calls the dark room. She killed Bien Thet. SI never tracked her down – or the people who sprung her.”

  Connor offered no reaction beyond a single smoke ring.

  Trevor added: “She’s a dangerous woman. More than either of us realized at the time. Curious as to how I know?”

  “Not hard to decipher, bruv. It also don’t change a damn thing. She’s a soldier fighting for what she believes in.”

  Mau Ping replied an instant after the floaters converged.

  “The bag already knew. He is deceiving you.”

  About what? Hoshi?

  “Many things. He is ... new.”

  New? The hell does that mean?

  “No. The Enzathi seeks a better word. Difficult to translate.”

  Try.

  “If you don’t mind, Connor, I’d rather not waste time on Hoshi. She’s long gone, and we’ve been ferreting out other enemy agents since you left. Shireena heads a program called Shadow Gambit. It allows us to probe everyone’s background and associations. Soon, we’ll have a station free of enemy collaborators. The safest place in the galactic sector.”

  Connor tossed back his whiskey and laughed under his breath.

  “Huh. You still send the guilty to SI?”

  “They’re expelled from Amity. No other punishment – unless the law back home goes after them.”

  “Reckon that’s better than the dark room.”

  Mau returned:

  “New word. Polished. The bag has been polished.”

  You’re talking in gibberish. Try again.

  “The word is correct. The Enzathi says the bag’s brain has been polished. It is old made new.”

  Trevor recalled his own instinct after a few minutes with Connor.

  Shit. Can you read his thoughts, too?

  “No. The Enzathi feels the essence of his aim.”

  Connor interrupted a conversation he couldn’t have known about.

  “You’re quiet over there, T. Look, if I offended you again, I’m sorry. Truth is, I like what you’re doing with this Shadow Gambit. There’s rot everywhere. It has to be cleaned out. We have to take a stand.”

  “Even if the enemy believes they’re in the right?”

  Connor blew at the lit end of his cigar. The ash flickered.

  “Our enemy is a disease. We have to annihilate it, right down to the last cell. Leave a few behind? It grows again.”

  “I don’t disagree. I’ve just never heard you talk like that. You said you were a new man. I can see it.”

  “What do you think?”

  “It’ll take some getting used to.”

  “Sort of like seeing you in that ridiculous fluffed collar.”

  Trevor took heart at the light jab: A little sense of humor where there used to be an endless supply.

  “Seeing life outside the station must have been eye-opening.”

  Connor shook his head.

  “You have no idea how bad it is, bruv. The filth is everywhere. Worse than you see on the streams. But all that shit is gonna change. We’re gearing up and counting down the days.”

  Nothing about that sounded good.

  “Days toward what?”

  Connor didn’t answer right away. He puffed and blew rings again.

  “I count my blessings, T. I was lucky after I joined up. I met a recruiter looking for volunteers. Special training, he called it. Fast track to advancement. I fell in with the best crew in the UNF.

  “We’re leading the way and shaping the future.” Connor tapped his bars. “You asked how I reached Lieutenant so fast. I proved myself. I put my life on the line for my brothers and sisters.”

  “Your life? How?”

  “In war.”

  Trevor winced. “What war?”

  “It’s too soon to share the details, but not much longer. You’ll be amazed what your little brother’s been up to.”

  Trevor wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He glanced to his left, where Mau sat with a stoic disposition.

  Is he deceiving me now?

  “No. The bag is sincere. He has killed many other bags.”

  Trevor shouldn’t have been shocked. Connor went off to fight at a time of inevitable war. Sooner or later ...

  “You’ve seen combat, Connor?”

  “And a shit-ton of death.”

  “You’re assigned to the Interdiction Fleet. Yes?”

  Connor waved a disapproving finger.

  “Details are classified, bruv.”

  “Understood.” Trevor turned to a different tack. “How did you fly to Amity?”

  “Hitched a ride.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “The ship where I’m deployed rendezvoused with a couple of transports bound for Amity. My Captain’s a good guy.”

  Trevor sat up. A few pieces slipped into place. He remembered Adm. Nagano’s timetable.

  “Transports? Are they outside Amity now?”

  “Yep. Deploying drones with singularity bombs. From what I heard, they’re building a defense web.”

  Mau replied:

  “The bag knows more details than he implies.”

  Trevor ran with the Enzathi’s observation.

  “I learned about the plan yesterday. They’re sending the Guardian fleet away after the drones are deployed. Adm. Nagano said the warships will be put to better use elsewhere. Heard any scuttlebutt about where they might be headed?”

  “Sorry, bruv. That’s above my pay stamp. Even if I knew, it’d be against regs to share. You understand.” Connor slipped his legs off the ottoman. “It’s getting late. Usually lights out for me by now. Relatively speaking. Whatcha say we pick this up tomorrow?”

  Trevor didn’t expect the sudden turn.

  “We just got started. I thought you wanted to catch up.”

  “Eh. Plenty of time. I ain’t going anywhere for a while. I’ll catch a bite over at the L-3. Kick back.”

  “No interest in the Raison Club?”

  “I’ve outgrown that fucking place.” Connor tossed his cigar into the snuffer. “Sorry I couldn’t be more fun on the first day back.”

  Trevor stood to meet him.

  “It’s OK. Just having you here is enough. It was only the two of us for so long that ... well. I’ll save the nostalgia for another day.”

  They hugged.

  “Stallion brothers are riding high. Love you, T.”

  “I love you, Connor. Always.”

  Just before Connor exited, he turned and added:

  “I’ll check in first thing, bruv. We’ll do lunch.”

  “Count on it!”

  Afterward, Trevor snuffed his cigar and turned to Mau.

  “Talk to me,” Trevor said.

  Mau rose to meet him, now much taller than the original.

  “The bag is filled with deceptions. He intends to betray you.”

  The Enzathi’s avatar made the accusation with no sense of urgency. Trevor’s rage stirred.

  “Betray me? Not a chance. How? Why?”

  “The manner and motive are unclear, only his aim.”

  “Why should I trust the Enzathi? It’s been listening to my thoughts all along – which I did not realize until today.”

  Mau raised both hands as if in surrender.

  “Incorrect, Trevor. The Enzathi values the bag’s privacy. It only hears your thoughts after it has begun direct communication. If the bag calls out for assistance, it will hear you.”

  Trevor decided to challenge the proposition.

  “If I tell you to go away and never return, will you?”

  “The bag will not make such a request. You need the Enzathi.”

  “To supercharge my paranoia? No thanks. You promised: If all the fragments merged, the Enzathi would have the strength to move on from me.”

  Mau dropped his hands to his sides.

  “The decision does not belong to the Enzathi. It observes incongruity. It says the bag is in need of the Enzathi. It says: Accept an alliance until you are certain.”

  “Certain of what?”

  “Only you will know, Trevor.”

  It’s playing games. Is this what it did with Mau? Is this ...?

  Trevor cursed. It was reading his thoughts.

  “Go away. I want my privacy.”

  Mau nodded.

  “The Enzathi complies, but it will ask the bag again. When you accept the offer of an alliance, we will go forth in grace.”

  Mau disappeared, as did the converged floaters. Trevor felt a subtle shift, like a cool breeze drifting through his brain.

  He was alone.

  Go forth in grace?

  What in ten hells did that mean?

  Trevor doubted he’d get much sleep tonight.

  17

  CONNOR TWITCHED WITH anticipation. He double-checked inside his jacket pockets to make certain he forgot none of the necessary tools. Also tucked: An extra cigar he swiped from Trevor’s humidor. Perfect for the occasion.

  He picked up the ensemble at a men’s boutique on the L-3. The fashionable suit worked well at a restaurant, a night club, or a business meeting. It said: Here’s a man who intends to command a room, but he’s also accessible. The tailor only needed twenty minutes to complete a full upfit to match Connor’s considerable frame.

  The gray and blue remained safe in his guest flat, hung in the closet.

  After a pleasing meal at a new Riyadhi restaurant, Connor checked the public directory and set his target. Rifters were fun, but tonight gave him a chance to walk and reflect.

  Though he drew everyone’s attention, no one on the Swiftrak recognized him. His old mates would’ve expected to see a long, flowing mane, perhaps tied into a tail. Others might detect him by the outlandish nightclub shine, featuring sparkles on his cheeks. Or the orange jumpsuit he wore for years working the air recycling system.

  What did strangers think now? Were they impressed? Did they see him as a world-mover and history-maker? Or were they frightened? Did they suspect he’d make the galactic sector better for everyone by cleansing it of the rot?

  Of course not. These people didn’t understand the true nature of the enemy. They hadn’t seen the filth up close. They weren’t willing to make the hard choices and the sacrifice.

  No matter. Change was at hand. Not even days remained.

  When Connor received this assignment, a savage thrill coursed through his blood. The task was long overdue.

  Yet as he contemplated how it would play out, Connor questioned whether he deserved all the glory. Shouldn’t he have stood side-by-side with his older brother? This assignment marked the end of their struggle. Alas, the pairing only made sense in theory. Practical reality excluded Trevor, the most recognized man on Amity Station.

  Connor entered the lobby of the Alhambra residential bloc. He recalled visiting here once or twice. Must have been a decade ago. Two of his earliest lovers lived in this building.

  He forgot their names or whether they were any good. No matter. They belonged to a different man’s life, one without purpose.

  Connor chose a lift where no one waited. Once inside, he opened his pom and overrode the LinkPass identifier. He dictated the floor number and thought of his greeting.

  Wouldn’t the cudfrucker be surprised?

  He emerged on Level 15 after again disabling the LinkPass identifier. Connor twice turned left and came upon Flat 1583. A woman in a flowered sarong passed by. Connor offered a respectful nod and waited until she rounded the corner.

  He thought about surprising the resident. All he had to do was override the door chime with his phantom drill.

  Tempting, but a touch too aggressive. Nexus trusted him to use it wisely.

  He pressed the chime and waited.

  When the door slid open, Connor made note of Thomas Quinlan’s priceless reaction. Drink in hand, Thomas glared at the visitor with a touch of confusion. He knew, yet he couldn’t be sure.

  “Connor Stallion?”

  “Like my suit? I bought it just for you.”

  Thomas sneered. Didn’t he appreciate the snark?

  “I heard you were coming home on leave. What in ten hells brings you to my door?”

  Connor didn’t wait for an invitation. He pushed by Thomas.

  “I’m catching up with old friends.”

  The door slipped shut. Thomas grunted a laugh.

  “Then what are you doing here, Stallion? In three years, you never said ten words to me.”

  The flat bore no distinctive qualities, its walls bare.

  “You’ll love the answer when I get to it, Quinlan. I’ll have what you’re having. A double.”

  “The hell you will. I never invited you into my home.”

  Connor opened his arms as if asking for a hug.

  “Yet here I am. You can try to remove me, but I wouldn’t recommend it, bruv. Now, how about that drink?”

  “Leave, or I will call Sec Admin.”

  Connor made himself at home on the couch. It felt sturdier than the usual standardized furniture. Thomas must have had the old one replaced. Probably pushed his weight around. Typical.

  “Pour my drink. Then you’ll sit across from me and listen. That’s not your strong suit. Never was. Will be today.”

  Connor winked. Thomas crossed his arms and gazed at the intruder.

  “I’ll give you a drink and ten minutes. Then you’re out.”

  Connor responded with a thumbs up. While Thomas retreated to the kitchenette, Connor licked the tip of his cigar and lit it. A thick cloud of smoke embraced him when Thomas returned, enraged.