Gameboard of the Gods

CHAPTER 35 A RECLUSE AND A TECHNICAL GENIUS

It took the wheels of SCI’s bureaucracy a while to wrap up the case. The military was much more efficient, and within two days, Mae had a summons to General Gan’s office.

This is it, she thought, approaching the base’s entrance. What I’ve been waiting for.

Even though matters weren’t officially closed, she’d been in touch with Justin and heard that all the damning evidence they’d hoped for was coming to light. No one could deny that it was an overwhelming success. She could hold her head up high with Gan and the prætorians again and return to where she belonged.

“A death temple and a genetic scandal.” Gan chuckled at the absurdity of what had gone down on the Pan-Celt land grant. “When I was asked to put you with March, I had no idea what madness was coming.”

His word choice caught her attention. She’d been spending too much time with Justin. “Asked? I thought you assigned me to him as a punishment. Sir.”

“Did you?” He shook his head adamantly. “Oh, no. It was a bizarre set of circumstances, actually. SCI had asked us for a prætorian to retrieve Dr. March, and we had one assigned. I don’t recall who. A Celadon, I believe. Anyway, Francis Kyle was on base for a meeting with the research department. He apparently got lost and received directions from some man who claimed to work here but didn’t meet any description I knew.”

“What did he look like, sir?” Mae had no reason to ask, and Gan had no reason to tell her. It wasn’t relevant to the story, but some part of her needed to know what twist of fate had led her to this point.

Gan thought back. “I don’t recall the exact details. Older man. No uniform. He had a glass eye, so maybe that was why his directions were so bad.” He seemed very amused at the joke. “Anyway, he somehow sent Kyle over to our department, which was all abuzz over what to do with the prætorian who’d started a fight at a funeral.”

She nearly pointed out that she hadn’t started the fight but then thought better of it.

“Kyle heard you were Nordic and got worked up about it. He’s a very excitable man, if you haven’t noticed.” “Excitable” was one way to put it, Mae thought, recalling how the director had salivated over Justin. “He requested you for SCI because he thought your background would help with all the patrician visits. And so, off you went.”

“What would’ve happened to me otherwise, sir?”

“Slap on the wrist. Two weeks’ suspension. And still banned from the uniform—which ended up being your only punishment, really. But we would’ve had you back in the field before long.”

Mae was dumbfounded. Two weeks was nothing. Double that time had passed already. Two weeks, and she could’ve worn the black uniform again and been off fighting as she was intended to do. Instead, a set of bad directions and even worse timing had landed her an assignment that had ripped her world out from underneath her.

“We’re all very pleased with how you handled things with those fanatics,” Gan continued, oblivious to her churning thoughts. “You’ll have a nice commendation to outweigh your reprimand.” He looked at her expectantly, awaiting an appropriate response.

“Thank you, sir.”

“And you’ve been granted your uniform again.”

Mae caught her breath as joy rushed through her. The uniform! Being deprived of it had become a bigger burden than she’d ever expected. Even though few knew about the punishment, she’d felt as though she were walking around in a disgrace that was obvious to everyone.

“However,” continued Gan, “I’m afraid you won’t actually be wearing it for a while.”

She snapped out of her daydreams. “Sir?”

A look of distaste crossed his features. “I was ready to have you back in regular duties once those patrician murders wrapped up, but Internal Security has requested that we allow you to stay with him—with March. Believe me, I argued against it, but…well, I lost.” Mae wondered if Gan had ever admitted to losing anything. “To be fair, after what you faced, I can see why they want enhanced protection for their servitors. I offered to give them someone else, but Director Kyle insisted on you. It’s an honorable mission,” Gan added, watching her closely. “All prætorian missions are.”

She swallowed. “Yes, sir. Of course. I’m just surprised, that’s all. Do you know how long I’ll be doing this?”

“No idea. Maybe if you’re lucky, March’ll do something to get himself exiled again.” Gan laughed at his own joke, and Mae mustered a smile she didn’t feel. “Regardless, I know you’ll excel. You always do.”

“Thank you, sir. May I ask you something? Something unrelated?”

“Of course.” Sometimes it almost seemed as though he was simply curious to hear what came to her mind.

“Have any prætorians ever gone AWOL?”

He certainly hadn’t expected that question. After a moment, his surprise turned to amusement. “Is this assignment going to drive you away?”

“No, sir,” she said, unable to hold back a laugh of her own. “It’d take something a lot worse for that to happen. I just overheard some drunk prætorians talking about it at a bar, and I’d never even thought about it before. It doesn’t seem believable.”

“That’s because you’re too loyal, and, forgive me, that loyalty blinds you to those who are less noble. Yes, prætorians do try to disappear—usually because they don’t want to give up their implant when they retire.” He gazed past her, his thoughts elsewhere as he absentmindedly touched the black trim around his collar. “I remember when it happened to me. There are ways to ease the transition, drugs that can help…but it’s still difficult. Losing it is like losing some intrinsic part of you. But it’s necessary—remember that when you’re forty. It’s a gift from our country that must be returned.”

“Yes, sir.” Forty seemed like a lifetime away. “But they must get caught, right? None of them can get very far.”

“Not if they stay in the country.” He tapped something into a panel on his desk, and a screen on the wall behind him powered up. “Bring up the Donovan file.”

Instantly, five head shots appeared. Text under them listed names and dates. Three names were in black, two were in red. Gan tapped the first picture.

“The file’s named after Virgil Donovan, the first prætorian to ever try to flee with an implant. He was caught, as were these other two. But the last two…” He scowled. “They fled to the provinces. If they’re ever found, they’ll be executed for treason and stealing military technology.”

“Have they been spotted in the provinces, sir?” She was surprised the RUNA wouldn’t have sent anyone to retrieve the traitor prætorians.

“No, but there’s really nowhere else they could be. If they were here, their identity chips would trigger a warrant.”

Mae stared at the ex-prætorians at large. One was a man, one was a woman. She recognized neither. “Counterfeit chips exist, sir.”

He nodded. “Yes, but they would only fool localized sensors. Any chip reader linked to the registry would immediately identify the fraudulent chip. And with the way the technology’s always updated, it would be nearly impossible to keep up maintenance on a counterfeit chip, even for localized readers. You’d need to either have a full-time technical genius on hand or become a recluse who never goes near a reader to avoid detection.”

“So they must be in the provinces,” she murmured in agreement. She glanced back at the pictures, focusing on the man, Alexander Srisai. He still didn’t look familiar.

Gan scrutinized her. “Are you sure you aren’t going to run out on me?”

She realized then what a suspicious question it was. “No, sir. Thank you for humoring me.”

It was noon when she was dismissed, later in the day than she’d intended. A look at train schedules told her she had time to make the trip she wanted, and after a quick call ahead, she soon found herself on a train to Portland. She reached Leo and Dominic’s house in the late afternoon. Leo opened the door, more comfortable around her than he’d initially been but still not looking entirely thrilled to see her.

“Is Dominic out?” she asked, glancing around as she entered.

“He’s at a wine-making seminar in California. It’s examining the way soil components interact with some of the newer Chardonnay hybrids.” There was a precision in the way he spoke that reminded her of the story he’d told her about how he’d met Dominic—the one Justin said was contrived.

“When’s he coming back?”

Leo looked wary. “Why?”

“Just curious. I just wanted to say hello.”

She made no mention of what had happened at the Morrigan’s temple, and after a few moments, Leo seemed to realize he was being hostile. He forcibly relaxed. “About a month. Be sure to tell Justin that. I’m sure he’ll have all sorts of witty commentary about how he hopes Dom’ll learn something.”

Mae smiled. “Maybe I should bring him back a bottle. It looks like we aren’t getting rid of each other any time soon.”

“Oh?” Leo gave her a searching look. “How do you feel about that?”

“That it’s my job.”

“Yeah, but it’s not exactly ideal for someone like you. I know how prætorians work.”

Yes, she thought. I’m sure you do.

“Prætorians do what they’re supposed to,” she said.

“They certainly do,” he said, a bit of bitterness in his voice.

After a little more small talk, Leo moved on to the reason she’d asked to come over today. If she’d learned anything about him, it was that his curiosity could trump a lot of his other more cautious feelings. Justin shared the same trait.

“So,” Leo said, ushering her into his lab. “I’m happy to run your blood. I just don’t get why you want me to do it.”

“Just a hunch,” she said.

The room looked completely chaotic, but Leo had no difficulty finding a box of new syringes among all the metal and glass. “It’s going to take a few hours to process,” he said once the blood was drawn. He suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “I’ll have to check on it occasionally…but if you want to, I don’t know…get something to eat…”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, saving him from entertaining her. “I have some work to do, and I wouldn’t mind taking a walk in your fields. I’ll check back later.”

In truth, Mae had no work to do. There was a call she wanted to make, but she couldn’t do it yet and wanted to be in her own home for it anyway. She’d been telling the truth about the fields and set off into them, admiring the neat rows of grapes that were starting to climb their posts. Wine making was a mystery to her, but Dominic had clearly put in a lot of work, and maintaining this land would certainly be a very good excuse not to get out much.

Justin thinks he’s just paranoid and antisocial, she thought. He thinks that’s why Leo wanted him left out of the official report. Maybe it really was that simple. After all, Justin was the allegedly brilliant master of deduction. Mae, though she believed herself intelligent, would never claim to have his powers of reading other people. She did, however, put a lot of faith in her instincts. Following them was how she’d survived, and they were now telling her something very different from what Justin believed about Dominic.

Thinking of Justin turned her mind toward other areas. She hadn’t had a chance to have much more than written contact with him, but he’d been in her thoughts a lot. Once again, he’d managed to confuse her perceptions of him. The man whose face had been filled with fierceness and affection as he risked his life with Emil bore little resemblance to the callous one who told her she was no longer interesting in bed. And always, always, the memory of the lover in Panama refused to leave her. All of those images had struck her deeply. She couldn’t forget any of them. And she couldn’t forgive one.

Her hardened heart’s resolve was made slightly more complicated by continued calls and messages from Lucian. His latest request had been that she and Justin come as “honored guests” to a fund-raiser. Lucian had written: We could have a dance or two, and no one would blink an eye. Mae had yet to respond.

She eventually pushed all these considerations aside and returned to the house as the sky was turning purple. When she saw Leo’s shocked face, her alarms went off. Maybe he’d guessed her conclusions about Dominic.

“What is it?” she asked.

He shook his head, amazement all over him. “Something you won’t believe.”

“You might be surprised at what I’d believe these days.”

He led her to side-by-side screens. Each held what she recognized as DNA sequencing, along with numbers that made no sense to her. “This is what you sent a couple weeks ago, your full genetic analysis from the military,” he said, pointing to one. “And here’s the one I just ran on you now. They’re not the same.” He glanced over at her when she made no response. “You’re not surprised.”

“I am…,” she said slowly. “Well, I don’t know. Obviously I wouldn’t have had you do it if I didn’t think there was something weird about it, but I didn’t really know what to expect. Maybe the military sent you someone else’s records.”

“I’d believe that if the results they sent were completely different from these. But theirs is almost like this one. When you compare theirs to the real thing, it’s obvious theirs has been altered. It’s been altered in a way to make it look more…real.”

“What else would it be?” she asked.

“It would look like this.” He tapped the screen on the right. “You’ve got a genetic makeup exactly like the patrician victims. Indescribably perfect. Beautifully crafted genes. Someone did a very good job of putting believable flaws into the one the military has. I never would’ve guessed it was fake if I didn’t have obvious proof here that this is you.”

He almost sounded embarrassed at his oversight, but she supposed a technical genius would consider this a big failing. As for her, she couldn’t take her eyes off the screen or still the racing of her heart.

“The last crazy piece,” she said in a voice that didn’t sound like her own. “This makes it official.”

“After everything that’s happened, ‘crazy’ is kind of becoming the status quo. I mean, you’re a designer baby created through either breakthrough genetic manipulation or the intervention of a goddess. And after what I saw that night…” No more swagger from Leo. “Well, I don’t know what I believe. I’m still on the side of science, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t unnerved that you and Justin haven’t been nearly as shocked by this stuff as you should be. That kind of freaks me out.”

“Speaking from the side of science, can you think of a reason for why the military would have altered genetic information on me?” she asked.

Leo lost his philosophical air and turned wry. “I learned a long time ago that there’s nothing the military won’t do. They have secrets within secrets….” He hesitated. “Especially with prætorians.”

She held his gaze. “You really do know a lot about prætorians.”

“I’m not up-to-date on them anymore.” He gave her a smile they both knew was faked. “I’m just a guy who works on birth control.”

After they finished up, she declined his offer to stay the night. Neither would’ve enjoyed it. There was a late train going back to Vancouver, and sleep didn’t matter to her. It did matter for a phone call she wanted to make, and the night passed slowly as she waited for the world to wake up. She tried reading and watching movies, but her mind couldn’t focus on any of it. At last, morning approached, and she decided it was a reasonable enough hour in New Stockholm to call her mother.

Astrid Koskinen answered, groomed to her usual state of perfection. Mae hadn’t woken her up, which hopefully meant she’d be in a cooperative mood.

“Maj, what a surprise. We’ve had more contact this month than we have in a year. I’m surprised you can take time from your fame and glory to check in on your family. Everyone’s talking about the little scene you made during your visit.”

Only her mother could call shooting someone in public a “little scene.” Mae wasn’t surprised the locals had discovered she was the prætorian involved. It was enough to have just stayed out of the national media.

“You lied to me,” Mae said. “You told me you just made a genetic deal, that there wasn’t any connection to a religion. But that’s not true. I remember! I was in her temple. You took me. My story matches a dozen others. We were all given those crow pendants. How could you do that? How could you pay that kind of price for a perfect baby?”

Her mother’s lack of shock was answer enough. “There you go again with using ‘perfect’ all the time. You certainly have a high opinion of yourself.”

“Someone else died for me. You bound me to a death goddess. You wiped out the family’s finances.”

“No,” spat her mother. “You wiped them out when you chose duty to a uniform over duty to us. We’re one of the few families with more Finnish in our blood than Swedish. Do you know how rare that is?”

“Duty to you? You had a loan you couldn’t repay. You gambled that you could sell me off for a profit, and your plan failed.”

“I failed at a lot of things, Maj. I should never have allowed your father the liberties I did. When he confronted me about your conception, I panicked. I never would’ve let him have the influence he did if I’d known it would ruin you.”

“His influence was the only thing that saved me!” Hearing her father belittled hurt Mae as much as the slight against the military. As she spoke, her childhood flashed through her mind—and more important, the way it had differed from Cyrus and Claudia’s. Always, always, their mother had controlled every aspect of Mae’s siblings’ lives. But not Mae’s. Her mother had glared and grumbled, but she’d stepped aside as Mae’s father encouraged her in canne and let her skip so many of the grueling teas and etiquette lessons customary in the Nordic upper classes. It wasn’t until her father’s death that her mother had finally taken over with a vengeance.

“Was that the deal you made with him?” Mae asked. “He kept quiet about what you’d done, so long as he could raise me? Was that why I didn’t have to join that deranged cult?”

Mae’s mother closed her eyes, finally letting pain show in her face. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. “You didn’t have to join because whenever I brought you to them, you made a scene. After a while, they asked me to stop and simply instruct you at home, through lessons and occasional visits from their priests. You didn’t react well to that either. You woke the whole household with your screaming.”

Mae reeled. All the nightmares that had tormented her before she joined the prætorians were the result of this unholy deal, her subconscious way of coping with something so twisted. “Dad stopped it, didn’t he? The home instruction, the visits. He couldn’t stand to see me go through that torment.”

Her mother scowled. “I couldn’t stand it. I’m not as heartless as you think I am, Maj, but it was a little too late. You slept somewhat better, but those nightmares never entirely went away.”

“Because she never went away,” Mae murmured, unable to believe how casually she was discussing the Morrigan. “You promised me to her, and she wouldn’t let me go.”

“There are a lot of rumors going around,” her mother said lightly. “Rumors that aren’t in the news. I heard the Morrigan’s temple was dismantled, and that prætorians and SCI were involved. Seems like her power might not be what it used to be.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “How are your dreams now?”

“I don’t dream. I don’t sleep.” Mae fell silent for a few moments. “How do you sleep knowing you put my life at risk? They must have told you the consequences if I didn’t follow their path.”

“I figured it was a problem we’d deal with later.” So typical. “Besides, you seem alive and well to me.”

What Mae felt was numbed. “How could you so casually sign on with a death cult, Mother? And which did you—do you—believe: that they used illicit technology or that they used unholy powers to create me?”

Her mother shrugged. “It made no difference. I’d heard about their results, and after your disappointing siblings, I had to do something. Desperate times call for desperate actions, but our last, best hope ended up being a bad investment.”

Mae had always resented the thought of being a commodity, but there was something even worse about being an investment. “I’m your daughter,” she said simply.

“And you’re a bad one of those too.” Her mother glanced at her ego and sighed impatiently. “I’m meeting Dorothy Olsen for mimosas. If you have nothing else to complain about, then I’ll be on my way, and you can return to playing soldier or whatever it is you like to do.”

“I serve the most powerful force in the country, Mother.”

“Do you, Maj?” Her mother’s smile managed to be both condescending and wistful at the same time. “The next time you look at that ‘perfect’ face or do some incredible physical feat, ask yourself where the real power is these days.”