The Third Claw of God

20 BETTELHINE FAMILY BUSINESS

I’ll skip over the hysterics of the next ten minutes. I was overwrought, wrapped in loss, mourning a family torn from me that I’d refused to remember with love for more years than I care to count. An idyll had been transformed in one horrid night of blood and madness to a hell of sterile incarceration and institutional rape, leaving me not just hard but also brittle, capable of shattering into pieces on those rare occasions when something scraped the scabs off my wounds.

The Porrinyards had been very good at dealing with me at such times. Now the shared persona of Jason-and-Jelaine proved the same, its Jelaine avatar embracing me, telling me that she knew what I’d been through, that it was all right, that I had a real home now if I wanted one. I’d be lying if I claimed that I didn’t hug her back, or that many of the tears I shed in that ten minutes were grateful ones.

But I’m also Andrea Cort, and not blind.

Even as I howled, part of me was picking it apart.

Sometime ten or twenty minutes after it all came back to me, we had returned to the stone table and I was sitting opposite her again, my eyes burning but my mind working at full capacity again. The furry white thing that lived on the balcony had decided that I was its friend, or at least its pleasure slave, and was now curled up on my lap, vibrating with pleasure; my usual impulse would have been to kick it off but I stroked it anyway as I sipped the sweet juice Jelaine had gotten me. “And am I supposed to believe that this is just about family? And nothing else?”

She spread her hands. “It can be about as little or as much as you want it to be.”

“Why didn’t the Family ever reclaim me before?”

“Because that’s never been the way things were done before. Because Bettelhines who leave the corporation or allow themselves to be exiled for cause have historically never been trusted again. Offspring born to exiles are sometimes repatriated, if they have a case, but they’ve never been allowed to become Inner Family in status again, even by marriage. The risks of subversion have always been deemed too great.”

I took another sip of my juice. “So where does that leave me?”

“You?…were a special case. You were notorious. Your loving Corps”—she filled the word with special contempt—“knew who you were and did everything they could to enhance your notoriety, just so they could hold you over my father and grandfather’s generations.”

“That’s all I was? A blackmail tool?”

“Somewhat short of a doomsday weapon. Our family’s well used to being hated, and could have weathered the scandal had your identity ever been revealed. But threats to reveal your lineage could still sway certain issues of contention a few precious points toward Dip Corps advantage. And that grew even more of a factor once you embarked upon your diplomatic career and became an even more divisive figure among the other major powers. Overall it became easier, for the small number of Inner Family leaders of these past two generations who knew who you were, to let you be and just let smaller issues slide.”

I was still sure I discerned an ulterior motive. “And that’s why you’re trying to get me back now? To neutralize my effectiveness as a political lever?”

“No, Andrea, that’s the way my grandfather might have seen it. Or even my father, once upon a time. But you haven’t been an effective political lever in some time. Most of the new generation coming up now still has no idea who you are. Philip, for one, didn’t know who you were until we were all back on Xana and Jason took him aside to tell him. I wish you could have seen the expression on his face.”

“Don’t tell me you’re just being sentimental.”

“If you think that’s not a factor, you’re wrong. Aunt Lillian was exiled before either of the singles Jason and Jelaine were born, but I have researched her case and believe it a miscarriage of family justice. There was never any need to deprive her of her birthright. Or, by extension, yours.”

Damn it, she seemed sincere. And I could not afford tears again. “But that’s not all of it. That can’t be all of it. I’m not that important.”

“You are, actually, but you’re right. That’s not all of it. I suppose that to understand it all you need to start with Jason’s experiences on Deriflys.”

“What happened?”

The pain of Jason’s early life now showed on his sister’s beautiful face, not as an experience she’d heard about at a remove, but as one she could now remember herself, with a pain capable of burning her. “I’ve already given you an idea how bad it was there. Now multiply your worst perception of that world’s brutality by a factor of ten. Jason lived like an animal. There were times he had to sell himself, times he had to kill or be killed, times he was no better than a slave, and times he had to give up every shred of his dignity just to avoid starving. When the AIsource pulled him out of there—”

I sat up a little straighter. “The AIsource?”

“Yes,” she said, with defiant calm. “They sent a force into Deriflys to pull out somebody else they wanted, a brave, special girl named Harille. They had important plans for her, but Harille wouldn’t go with them unless they also rescued the boy who had loved her and protected her and kept her alive even when it might have made more sense for both of them to just lie down and die.” Jelaine’s eyes turned wistful. “It’s amazing how much love a boy like the single Jason can feel when he’s lost everything and only his ability to feel concern for another person is left, or how much a girl like Harille, who never quite loved him back, can still appreciate all he’s done for her. She gave them no choice.”

I asked, “What happened to her?”

“The last time Jason saw her, aboard the AIsource vessel that pulled them off Deriflys, she was dying. And that, Counselor, is the real reason he was so shattered when he came back to Xana. Harille had kept him sane, and now he couldn’t even know whether she’d survived.”

“And this is why the singlet Jelaine went away with him?”

“Yes. Everybody was told it was a goodwill tour. But in truth none of the other worlds the singles Jason and Jelaine visited during the tour mattered at all. It was all about finding out whether Harille was alive or dead.”

“Was she?”

“Neither. She wasn’t exactly Harille anymore.” There was another flash of sadness, mixed with something else I could not identify—Anger? Amusement? Awe? “Let’s just say that she was beyond Jason’s reach.”

There was a moment of silence. “And all this—”

“All this,” she finished for me, “left the singles Jason and Jelaine at loose ends about what to do next. Jason hadn’t found closure. Jelaine had spent months listening to his stories and had begun to join him in rejecting the Bettelhine system. Both started focusing on Deriflys again, considering how many places like it suffer not because things fall apart but because the Bettelhine Family business provides them with the means to blow themselves apart. The singles realized that they could not return to Xana as happy little aristocrats content to continue profiting from the misery the Bettelhines always left behind.

“They also knew that there was no possibility of bringing about change, not with Jason considered unstable, Jelaine less major corporate force than family princess, and their conservative half brother Philip already being groomed for the top slot. But they couldn’t walk away from Xana and accept exile either, not when the feelings of helplessness were likely to destroy Jason all over again. So they decided to take extreme action. They decided to tool themselves for a silent coup. And so they contacted the AIsource and applied for cylinking.”

This brought up a point that had bothered me since the moment I’d first figured out what they were. “I learned when I hooked up with the Porrinyards that all linked pairs become AIsource agents.”

“I could have too,” she said, “but the agenda I proposed was so audacious that the AIsource were satisfied to just sit back and see how well I did. And as you know, I did very well. Jason returned a new man, mature and focused, ready for any lower corporate position the Family was still willing to provide him. Jelaine returned a more serious girl, eager to dedicate herself to upper management. There were no obvious signs of collusion between them. But in truth, the two supposed individuals were doing everything they could to regain my father’s confidence so they could go to him with the plan and start working together again. That took even less time than I’d budgeted. Within a year my star was rising.”

Flailing, aware that something was terribly wrong but unaware what it could be, I settled for strict chronological order. “How did the Khaajiir enter the picture?”

“Our researches led to him and one of his books about the peaceful transition of power following the K’cenhowten Reign of Terror. He wrote that changes radical enough to change the entire structure of a society could only be peaceful when the people responsible, in K’cenhowten’s case the Khaajiirel, used the same tools tyrants use for mass repression as instruments of more limited and more subtle duress. He said that a sculptor’s chisel, applied to the right place by the right hand, can create great artifacts of lasting beauty whereas a powerful bomb dropped from the air can only create useless rubble. He had some ideas how the Khaajiirel managed it—mostly by careful plotting and the long-term manipulation of a few key people—and he was therefore invaluable when it came to plotting the various subtle strategies we needed to bring about our peaceful alterations in the Bettelhine landscape. With our sponsorship, he became my father’s number one advisor, and a key planner instrumental in making certain that the transfer of power remained peaceful.”

I remained uneasy. The same reason I’d sensed before was still beyond my reach, but had magnified, like a tsunami growing in the last few seconds before it strikes shore. “I can’t say much for his level of success.”

More sadness. “Yes. I know it looks that way. But then I knew I was entering a very critical phase, the riskiest in fact. The Khaajiir had warned us to expect some resistance and I was surprised only by its timing and lethality. He’ll be missed, both as an asset and as a friend. I’m hoping that you can help fill his shoes.”

I refused to be sidetracked. “How did I come into it?”

“Well, as you know, the Khaajiir already had an interest in you. He had researched the backgrounds of every member of your doomed colony, suspected he knew who your mother really was, and was able to bring your predicament to my attention. Consultation with my father, who knew about you, confirmed that the Khaajiir was correct.” She smiled and took another sip of her juice. “I was delighted, and not just because I admired Aunt Lillian and considered Family Exile one of the corrupt practices I hoped to abolish. Consider: You’re brilliant. You’re principled. You’re already well accustomed to working with linked pairs. You have no strings. You only work for the Dip Corps because you have nowhere else to go, not because you have any reason to feel grateful for the shitty way they’ve treated you over the years. You’d be even more likely to turn your back on them if I let you know about their vested interest in making sure that you remain miserable and without options. All of this was obvious, before I asked the AIsource their own opinion of you and found out that you’d defected to them already. It’s like a marriage made in heaven, Andrea. If returned to your family, to us, you’d be the best ally we could possibly have. And the great thing is, you’ve already proved that, with everything you did on the Royal Carriage!”

So that was why they’d been so delighted by my performance, when I demanded the right to pursue an investigation, and followed it all to the conclusion. It wasn’t just pride in me, though, that had been part of it. It had also been, if only by accident, a job interview of sorts. I bristled. “I haven’t said that I’m interested in joining your coup.”

“You’re right about that, and I admit, it’s an awfully audacious assumption on my part.” She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “Pie in the sky. I think you’ll want to if you give the matter sufficient consideration, given your disapproval of everything our family’s stood for until now, and how much you know Mankind will benefit if we succeed. But your level of involvement in our agenda doesn’t affect the other important decision you’re being asked to make. As I’ve told you, acquiring a potentially valuable ally was only part of my motivation. Even if you want nothing whatsoever to do with my plans, something I recognized as a possibility from the very beginning, I’d be just as happy for you if you preferred to settle down here and claim everything else that being a Bettelhine can offer. Think about it. The income deposited in your personal account just because you’ve been our honored guest for a little more than a week is already several orders of magnitude greater than the total you could have expected in a lifetime of toiling for the Corps. If you stay, you can be my guest here or at Jason’s until you’re settled, or you may claim one of several vacant Inner Family Estates in any climate you prefer, staffed by as many retainers as you need. Once you’re comfortable you can use the power and wealth and influence that is yours by inheritance to pursue any philantropic goal near to your heart. You can travel anywhere you want to go, on-or offworld. And most importantly, you can explore all of these options among people who are practically begging for a chance to consider you family, and love you, rather than return to New London and go back to a Corps you’ve already betrayed and which is staffed by people with a vested interest in keeping you a target of mass hatred. Don’t you see, Andrea? We’re offering you happiness and freedom.”

“Paid for,” I said, “with misery and war and hate and mind control. Which are exactly what drove my mother away in the first place.”

She was not deterred. “Jason too. And again, since those are all things I’m dedicated to changing about the way our family does business, you have all the more reason for wanting to stay and help if you can—Come on, Andrea. Ten years from now our family’s business ethic will be unrecognizable, and our contribution to human civilization entirely beneficial. How can you walk away from that?”

I had no doubts now. I believed her. Them. I believed that Jason and Jelaine were sincere idealists, meaning well not only for me but also for this world the Family had built. I believed that they may have made some mistakes along the way, but they were also a legitimate hope for a better tomorrow. I also believed that if I stayed here as they proposed, I could have the life they offered, complete with their kinship, a gift that I now found I craved as much as I’d craved nothing else.

Against that I had Dejah’s warning, my own nagging sensation that I’d missed something, and the mysterious retreat of the Porrinyards, who had against all prior habit abandoned me to make this decision alone.

Remember who you are.

I also thought of something a very wise man had once said to me, many years ago. “The Devil never tempts you with a bad offer.”

Pushing the now-dozing creature from my lap, so I could lean close, I said, “I’m not ready to say yes or no. But one last question, for the moment. Back on the Royal Carriage, you kept refusing to explain any of this until I heard it from your father’s lips. You just did a fine job telling me everything all by yourself. Why was it so important to wait?”

She gave a little half-smile as the creature ousted from my affections leaped up on the table in front of her to demand its tribute. Scratching it under the chin, she said, “My father always regretted what happened to his sister. When he sent the invitation he told us he wanted to tell you that face-to-face. He had the chance a few days ago, when we introduced him to you for the first time, the same conversation where he asked you if he could see you with long hair. I’m sorry you can’t remember, but he wept. Just as much as he wept on that day when Jason came home from Deriflys.” Dammit, there went the tear ducts again.

She stood, eliciting a sad protest from the furry thing, and spent a moment watching as another dekarsi flitted past the balcony. The light of the sun, now just a blood-red sliver sinking beneath the mountains on the horizon, gave her face a warm glow, making me realize something that I should have seen the first time I laid eyes on her. Her profile looked like mine. “Meanwhile, everything else is going well. My people are dismantling the countermeasures put in place by Vernon Wethers. I’ve gained control of his projects and put them in the hands of somebody I trust. Monday Brown’s on board. Jason’s out with Philip, who we’ve left alone up until now but who needed to be brought into the loop now that he knows what I am. There’s every sign of him seeing reason. The doctors say you’re well enough to travel, which I hope means you’ll agree to join Father, Philip, and me—‘me’ meaning both of my bodies, in this case—for a friendly family dinner at Main Estate. We have a lot to catch up on.”

Before Jelaine left so I could shower I insisted on being shown to my satchel, which had been segregated in a separate closet as if out of fear that the grubby detritus of my pre-Bettelhine life might somehow contaminate the finery of my existence among the exalted.

I’d forgo the usual severe black suit and dress like the locals this one time, but I’d be damned if I was going to go anywhere without my spare Dip Corps insignia unless I was the one who decided that it was no longer a part of my life.

After the shower, which was steaming and luxurious and scented and wet and everything that the dry pulsed sonics I was used to at home were not, came the nightmare of picking out something to wear. I was accustomed to donning variations of the same black suit every day to remove the necessity of that choice from my daily life. But Jelaine had advised me that this would be off-putting on a family occasion, so I let her pick an appropriate outfit out of all the others that now belonged to me: a ridiculous, asymmetrical, but important-looking thing with flared shoulders, one bared arm and one padded wrist-length sleeve. I considered myself lucky that the same strategy hadn’t been applied to the pants, which were so loose-fitting that they brushed my legs as I wanted, but at least covered both to an equal length. The entire getup had golden buttons that didn’t fasten to anything and false pockets that didn’t seem intended to carry anything. Don’t get me started on the shoes. I’ve never understood why any woman would subject herself to the discomfort of elevated heels unless she was ashamed of her height or being tortured for state secrets, but Jelaine assured me that the pair she’d picked out for me went with everything else and I acquiesed out of sheer sensory overload.

The skimmer flight to Main Estate at about eight hundred kilometers away, a thirty-minute trip, was another issue. I’ve never liked heights or planets in general all that much, but Jelaine kept pointing out landmarks of interest along the way, from the snowy mountain range she identified as Xana’s tallest and most treacherous to the verdant rain forest that took over as the land became a vast plain only twenty seconds of flight time away. She pointed out half a dozen smaller estates, some of them perched in improbable places that seemed unforgivably harsh choices for a family whose members got to decide what they saw when they looked out their windows every morning; there was, for instance, a desert about as topographically interesting as a bootprint occupied by some addled Bettelhine who insisted on subjecting himself and his fifty retainers to life in canvas tents. Still, I began to see what Jelaine meant when she said that I could claim an estate in any ecosystem I desired. I found myself wondering whether Xana had an orbital wheelworld or undersea facility, thinking that I’d take corridors and canned air if it could be all mine.

Two minutes from the end of the flight, over a region of green hills dotted here and there with white patches from a recent snowfall, we started seeing small groups of houses, which Jelaine identified as the homes of workers assigned to Main Estate but not senior enough to live on the grounds. She cut our speed and lowered our altitude to just above the treetop level as we drew closer, so she could point out more areas of interest: a hill taller than most that she identified as camouflaged servants’ quarters, gardens, a personal zoo, and stables for horses of not only the terrestrial variety but, she said, several alien and engineered variants from the gigantic to the winged. I spotted one lumbering gray creature, with a nose like some kind of serpent, wandering around sans human supervision. We were well past it and within sight of the mansion itself before it occurred to me that I had just seen my first elephant.

Now, that’s just showing off. And it was. That’s exactly what it was. That’s exactly what Jelaine was doing.

And it was working too. From time to time I found myself beaming. I even laughed once or twice at jokes she made. I think I may have made one of my own, though that was a genuine stretch and any laughter coming from her might have been politeness on her part.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was how I felt.

I belonged here.

I won’t describe my first sight of the mansion itself, with its ten wings and its hundreds of windows and the two rows of towering spear-shaped trees providing a sort of arboreal honor guard for any visitor intent on approaching the colossal front doors on foot. It was a castle, pure and simple, and every brick in the entire edifice was a tribute to the magnificence of any who dwelled within. Nor will I describe the bowing and scraping of the dozens of servants who had come out to greet us—I actually do mean us, as their awe was directed not just at Jelaine but at me as well, the most discomfiting of the sensations this day had shown me yet—as we approached those doors and they drew open to reveal a marbled hall that disgorged three tiny figures I recognized as Hans, Philip, and Jason Bettelhine, all three grinning at us as if we’d been missing and presumed dead for years.

Hans strode forward, ahead of the two brothers, and bowed as he grasped my hand in both of his. “Andrea. This is a historic moment. Your first visit to the great house.”

“A big house, anyway.”

He chuckled at that. “I was warned about your brutal honesty. I must confess that I’ve been looking forward to seeing it in action.”

Philip rubbed his jaw. “It’s an acquired taste, Father—Hello, Andrea. I suppose I may call you that now, and not Counselor?”

I wasn’t sure at the moment whether anybody would call me Counselor ever again. “That’s…” What was it? All right? I might have been weakening from the assault of Jelaine Bettelhine’s charm, but did that mean I had to like Philip as well? “That’s fine.”

Hans Bettelhine took the moment’s hesitation as reticence. “I know how overwhelming this has been, Andrea. And I understand that you would have mixed feelings about your lineage, given your vocal sentiments about our family’s history. I can only assure you that I intend to make this a brand-new day, and that I’ll live to hear you tell me that you don’t regret walking through this door with an open mind.” He offered his arm. “Will you sit next to me? I look forward to telling you everything I remember about your mother’s youth.”

Surprising myself, I took him up on it. “All right.”

And that’s how it would have gone, for the rest of the night. In another few minutes I would have been taken to a luxurious dining room and treated to the best meal the best chefs on Xana could provide. I would have been told again how important I was and how loved I could be and all the opportunities that life as a Bettelhine could provide. I would have been tempted and I would have surrendered.

It would have been easy.

Juje help me. I wanted it.

But as the two of us, Hans Bettelhine and his prodigal niece, walked arm-in-arm through the door, following the laughing figures of Jason and his no-longer estranged brother, Philip…as we entered the vast entrance hall with its chandelier larger than some entire apartment blocks I’ve lived in and its tapestries so huge that the historical landscapes depicted there may have been larger than life-size…as the two rows of uniformed servants positioned along both sides of the wall prevented us, their masters, from ever walking more than five paces without assurance that they would always be available to see to our every need…

…as we walked past all that, heading toward another pair of opulent doors, which a pair of white-gloved servants were already opening to reveal a formal dining room with a roaring fireplace at the distant end…

…as Hans Bettelhine asked me solicitous questions about my recovery and I said I was fine and Jelaine, walking right behind us, emitted a saucy laugh about what a bad patient I’d been…

…I found myself thinking with more clarity than I’d felt since my last moments on the Royal Carriage.

The AIsource’s warning and Dejah Shapiro’s warning and the last message of the Porrinyards combined with my own continuing certainty that my welcome back into the bosom of my family was too easy, too convenient, too not-what-should-have-happened when Jason and Jelaine asked their father to bring a relative of my controversial reputation back into the fold.

Maybe if he’d been another man, ruling another family. But not a family with a history of exiling its own. Not this family. Not unless.

And then I didn’t have time for unless because even as my thoughts sped up, time itself slowed down to compensate. I saw Philip, who was with Jason, about to pass through the dining room doors just five paces ahead of us, suddenly turn to his right and look not at his brother but over his brother’s head, the filial smile on his handsome face replaced by a look half resolve and half resignation.

I might have missed it any other time. But I caught it then.

And I saw what he was looking at, the one steward who had stepped out of line and was approaching on a course and speed designed to intercept Jason Bettelhine.

The steward wore the impassive, emotionless expression of any servant trained to subsume his own personality beneath a façade of yes sirs and no sirs. And he was making eye contact with Philip and giving him the nod of a man who had just received confirmation that the time was now.

He reached behind that ridiculous red sash and pulled out a black disk of a kind I’d already seen twice before.

I drew back and elbowed Hans in the side, shouting, “Watch out!”

The old man doubled over with a moan of pain and betrayal, releasing my arm and freeing me to launch myself at Jason’s back.

Jason, who must have seen my sudden move through Jelaine’s eyes, whirled just in time to register his father’s impact with the floor. He didn’t see the white-suited servant extending the Claw of God toward his back, not immediately, but Jelaine’s perspective helped him with that too. An instant before the weapon would have made contact he doubled over, spun, and drove a fist into the servant’s ribs. The would-be assassin stumbled back a step and against the wall, an ally that prevented him from falling over. He swung again with the Claw of God, driven by panic and reflex to treat it as a slashing weapon instead of one that only needed to make contact. Jason backed away from the swing only to trip over Philip’s outstretched leg and go down, hard.

I would have helped Jason, but instinct told me that if there was an assassin targeting Jason there had to be one targeting Jelaine and likely one going after me as well. So I whirled in time to catch a tableau that included a battalion of servants rushing to help us from all sides and Jelaine screaming at them to stay away. Their help would be worse than useless if that mass rush to help their employers hid the charge of further assassins, who planned to take advantage of the chaos to plant Claws of their own.

That’s when another of the servants took me down.

It was a very professional tackle, taking me in the midsection and lifting me all the way off my feet before driving me to my back several paces away. I thought I was dead before I looked into the desperate eyes of the young man trying to pin me and saw at once that this was no assassin, just a servant who had seen me elbow Hans Bettelhine and decided that I had to be part of whatever was happening.

I used a well-placed knee to commend him for his dedication and rolled away, getting up only when I thought I was free of the Bettelhine Family’s well-meaning defenders. A quick overview of the chaos around me revealed the assassin who had gone over Jason now on top of him and trying to press the Claw of God against his chest.

Philip seized the assassin’s wrist again and added his own strength to the fight.

I might have been awed by this show of filial devotion had my angle not permitted me the observation that he was doing more to drive the Claw toward his brother’s chest than assist his brother in keeping it away.

Another servant who either saw what was happening or believed it his duty to keep the eldest Bettelhine out of danger grabbed Philip by both arms and hurled him away, an act that threw off the assassin’s balance as well and lent the embattled Jason a few added seconds of life.

I whirled again and saw a quartet of guards trying to drag Jelaine away from the struggle. Another servant, producing yet another Claw of God advanced on her while she was pinned. She spun his head around with a high kick to the underside of the jaw. I think it might have killed him, but I didn’t have the time to tell for sure because that’s when I caught a flash of movement at the corner of my eye and knew it meant that this time I was next for real.

I swept the air around me with a kick not quite as elegant as Jelaine’s, connecting with nothing but driving my own assassin back a step and giving me a chance to face her. She was a snub-nosed, chubby-cheeked, frizzy-haired creature with freckled skin and no expression at all. She drew back her own Claw of God and charged, hoping that sheer determination would manage what stealth had failed to do.

By the time she was finished with her jab I was alongside it, grabbing her by both wrist and neck and using her momentum against her. It was the same move I’d used during the previous attack on me up at Layabout, except that the assassin I’d faced then had been bare-handed and harmless and the assassin whose charge I had now redirected was wielding a deadly weapon that preceded both of us as I drove us forward.

Philip Bettelhine turned toward us just in time to see the Claw of God headed right toward him and screamed like a little girl.

I might have let it strike him if not for that.

My time with the Porrinyards had mellowed me, after all.

So I let go of the off-balance assassin and let her fall down, using the heel of my shoe to shatter the hand bearing the Claw. I didn’t let her scream bother me. Nor did I worry any more about Jelaine, who had wrested herself free of her would-be protectors, ordered them to back off, and retrieved the Claw of her own unmoving assailant.

Jason, his clothing torn and his nose bloodied, stood alive and well as servants dragged away the sole traitor who had gone after him. He saw me looking at him and gave me a grim nod of satisfaction. From somewhere not far away I heard the sound of pounding feet: security, arriving with their usual efficiency now that the war was over.

Jelaine called to me. “Andrea? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine!” I shouted.

I did not ask how she was, or how Jason was, because I already knew more than I’d wanted to know.

I’d figured out the missing element of the plan that had propelled Jason and Jelaine to power.

Hans Bettelhine remained on the ground where I’d dropped him, hugging himself, unable to muster the will he needed to realize that the crisis was over. It could have been because I’d hit him hard, or because he was an old man and the violence in his home had been a major shock for him. But then Jelaine drifted to his side and knelt before him, her beautiful features shining with the special kind of love that is only natural to find in a loyal daughter. I saw her start whispering to him.

Philip saw the emotions playing across my features, picked up on what I’d realized, and sensed the inner war I was fighting with myself over it. The despair that had stained his features for the last few seconds now turned nasty as he confronted me, his voice low and meant for me alone. “You honestly didn’t know the worst of it until now, did you, Andrea?”

“No,” I said, looking at Jason and Jelaine. “Not until just before the attack.”

“That was my own poor judgment. I thought you were in on it, just like that sanctimonious holy man had been. At the very least I thought that somebody who hated the Family business as much as you claimed to would certainly approve once you found out.”

I averted my eyes. “Shut up.”

“Just in case you’re wondering, it really was only Vernon Wethers up there. I was out of the loop. But then we all returned to Xana and the two freaks who used to be my brother and sister, who knew how much Vernon had succeeded in compromising them in my eyes, tried to enlist me. They actually thought I’d approve of what they’ve done, to advance as far as they have. They didn’t realize that the very thought turned my stomach, that I’d see what they’ve done to Father as family mind-raping family. They didn’t realize that I’d have to do something, no matter how half-assed and last-minute and desperate, to stop them.”

“And the Claws of God?”

“My own clumsy attempt to make this look like some of Vernon’s leftover machinations. I figured that doing it somewhere with plenty of witnesses would lead people to all the right conclusions. But I shouldn’t have. I should have done the simple thing and ordered up a bomb. Or somebody to strangle my dear, traitorous brother and sister in their sleep. But no,” he said, with palpable self-disgust. “I had to be fancy.”

Just a few short meters away, Hans Bettelhine flashed the relief of any slave happy to be fed his instructions. He nodded at his loving daughter, the female half of the shared mind who commanded him and had steered his change of heart in so many things and, with her assistance, rose to continue giving his enthusiastic blessing to their plans for the Family business. I knew, just looking at him, that he would have agreed to anything they suggested, that their opinions would now always be his.

It was the only way Jason and Jelaine could have made their coup work. No wonder they’d had such success. They’d followed the Khaajiir’s thesis and, by co-opting Dina Pearlman or one of the other techs working for her, seized the one mind capable of helping them to enact the changes they wanted.

I didn’t know how they’d done it, what risks they’d taken getting their father alone.

I couldn’t argue with the results. The Bettelhine Family was changing course.

But was it worth the price?

Another whispered suggestion from Jelaine, and Hans Bettelhine gave me a wave. He started toward me, the prodigal niece whose quick thinking had removed him from the line of fire.

Philip had only a few seconds left, but he got it all in. “I’ll get Internal Exile. The useful part of my life’s over. But what about you, Andrea? How far are you willing to go? If you stay here will it be because you think the ends justify the means, or because all those overwrought principles of yours can be bought with a little money and power?”

Now Jason was approaching, too, his expression wary as he focused on me and on Philip in turn.

The voice of the AIsource rumbled in my head. The choice is yours, Counselor.

For me it was as if every atom in the universe had ceased moving, leaving me the sole animate object in a tableau of statues.

This is it?

This is it. This is the moment that determines the future we talked about. This is the moment that decides whether a race lives or dies, and whether humanity will have to pay a price for its genocide.

But you haven’t given me anything!

We have given you as much as the Rules of Engagement permit. We have provided you with two clear alternative futures: one where you remain on Xana and throw your considerable talents behind what Jason and Jelaine are doing, and one where you remain apart and independent and free to act elsewhere even if that means opposing them. In one future, your active participation helps to speed their new vision of the Bettelhine Corporation; in the other, they struggle on without your counsel and need additional time to consolidate power. In one future billions die, a major sentient race meets extinction, and humanity pays a devastating price. In the other, billions die, but the targeted race survives, hope is preserved and, though Mankind suffers, a better future awaits after the last shots are fired. One of these alternatives benefits us, the other our enemies. One will provide us the release we crave and thus free the organic intelligences of our interference; the other will deny us our ending. You will have reason to suspect, within a very few months, whether you made the correct decision. You will be at the center of those events. But first you must determine that future with the choice you make now.

Th-that’s crazy! How the fuck am I supposed to know, with both sides whispering in my ears?

You don’t. You’re not clairvoyant. We can only advise that in this particular case the choice that gives humanity a fighting chance is the same as the choice that’s right for you.

And how am I supposed to know that?

It’s the only guideline you’ll have. Good luck, Counselor.

Silence.

I wanted to scream at them. Had there ever been a moment when I could have torn their hidden hardware apart with my bare hands, that was it. I hated them as much as I’d ever hated anything, and I’m a goddamned talented hater.

But the universe was moving again, and I was running out of time.

So I put aside all my anger at my secret masters and considered how much the redirection of the Bettelhine business would benefit humanity.

I considered the mind control being used to arrange it.

I considered all the arguments about the ends justifying the means.

I considered times I’d bought those arguments and times when I’d considered them bullshit.

I considered everything I could have if I tossed my lot in with Jason and Jelaine.

I considered what it would cost me.

I considered the Dip Corps betraying me every single moment of my life since childhood. I thought about an existence I’d spent with a billion knives at my back and the alternative, life in a warm, generous place among people who were willing to love me.

I thought about the first stirrings of reciprocal love I’d begun to feel for Jason and Jelaine, the instinctive affection I’d wanted to feel for the gray-haired old monster once I knew that he’d been brother to my mother.

I thought about the fact that he hadn’t done a damn thing for my mother when he still had his own will working for him.

I thought about being handed everything I could ever want and on top of that having the excuse that I’d be building a future not just for myself but for everybody the new Bettelhine Corporation would help.

I thought about my mission for the AIsource, my promise to find a way to kill them, a quixotic assignment likely far beyond the reach of any human being. I thought about the crimes their rogue intelligences, the Unseen Demons, had committed and thought about how I might never be able to bring them to justice, either; how even if I managed the impossible after ten years or twenty or thirty or at any point before I died, it would neither bring back my family nor lessen the guilt I felt for my own participation in the massacre on Bocai.

I thought about the Porrinyards, still sitting up there in my personal transport, waiting for me to make my decision, and yes, I loved them as much as they loved me, but was it right for them to make me choose between staying with my family or staying with them? If I went to them and said that I’d decided to stay here, could I persuade them to remain with me if I argued for the cause of Jason-and-Jelaine? Would they want to help? Or would they see how much of the decision to stay would have been predicated on the easier path, the one of home and comfort and family? What if I told them that somebody had to keep an eye on Jason and Jelaine from now on, to make sure that the moral compromises the pair had made so far didn’t lead to more and someday might devolve into a system as destructive as the one they were trying to change?

Jason, Jelaine, and their father were almost upon me now. But their smiles were now faltering, as they saw how much I was struggling.

It would be so easy to stay.

But what had the Porrinyards said?

After everything, it all came down to this.

Remember who you are.