Code of Conduct (20 page)

“It's possible,” Jani finally said.

Betha walked to the door. “You mean yes. Why don't you say what you mean.” She turned to Steve. “See you later.”

“Where you going?” he asked.

“Work. I'll be in one of the spare offices if you need to talk.” Betha smiled weakly. “'Bye.”

“She's smarter than she looks,” Jani said as the door closed.

Steve drew close. “Weirdo 'pack you've got there,” he said. “Dull-lookin', like a lump of mud. Tsecha's got somethin' looks just like it. His thing's like a dictionary. Got a couple human languages in it.”

“Coincidence,” Jani said as she swept her gear back into her duffel.

“Don't tell me that! I seen it! I've sat in meetings with him. Watched him tap at the damned thing.”

Jani stuffed the yellow sack containing the Court of Inquiry report into her duffel. “Have you talked to Angevin today?”

Steve's eyes widened. He stood up, rocked uncertainly from one foot to the other. “Nah,” he finally muttered. “Don't have time for her crap. It's all over. It's done.”

Jani rose, then closed in on Steve until she stood toe to toe
with him. “You don't want her linked with you in case you get arrested.”

Steve tensed. “Won't get arrested. Be gone long before then.” He chewed his unactivated 'stick. “That story. That were just a story, weren't it? 'Bout what it's like. I mean, you're just a posh little Cabinet cracker—what do you know about rough?” He offered her a hide 'n' seek smile—now you see it, now you don't. “Were just a story, weren't it?”

“Oh yes.” Jani focused on the floor. “You found me out. Blatant exaggeration, just to scare you.” She walked to the door. “Tomorrow,” she said. She glanced at her timepiece as she headed for the lift. She'd be late for dinner with Evan. After he heard what she had to say, he'd wish she'd stood him up.

Jani ignored a staffer's efforts to announce her arrival and brushed past him into the Private House dining room. Evan, who had been sitting with his back to the door, stood up unsteadily as she cut across the room to the portable bar.

“Jesus, you do bang around, don't you?” He smiled tentatively, swirling the contents of his glass. “There was no need for you to rush. First chance I've had to be by myself all day. Gave me a chance to catch my breath.”

Jani poured herself a glass of water and watched Evan sample his drink. She had always known him as a steady drinker. The official term was
maintenance alcoholic
, according to the Court of Inquiry report. He was on a regimen of alcohol dehydrogenase boosters and nutritional supplements and had a replacement liver waiting for him in Neoclona-Chicago's organ storage bank. Every year, he had a battery of tests to monitor for signs of incipient alcoholic psychoses. He was on record as saying he had no intention of curbing his drinking. He would do as he pleased; it was up to his cadre of highly paid physicians to keep him functional.

He looked Jani up and down. His grin dimmed. “I thought you'd dress like you did on the
Arapaho
. I was looking forward to it.” He had certainly gone the full formal route. Black evening suit. Gleaming white shirt with onyx fasteners. The only thing missing was the red rose in his crossover lapel.

“You don't give a damn what happened to Lyssa. For the last two years of her life, you and she barely spoke.” Jani walked over to a serving cart. Too much time had passed
since her last meal. Her stomach ached as though she'd been punched. “You found out the Court had initiated an investigation of your father's conduct during the idomeni civil war. The van Reuter reputation was at stake. You needed someone with experience in Rauta Shèràa paper to do a minesweep, help you bury incriminating Service documents Acton recoded as private paper. Enter yours truly.” She snagged a warm roll from one of the baskets and bit into it. “You thought I'd help you cover for him to save my ass. Need I remind you that your Uncle Rik made the same mistake?”

“Who have you been talking to?” Evan shrugged off Jani's answering glare. “Anais has tried to engineer my father's ruin many times. She's always come out looking the fool.”

“My transport crash was no crash at all. Anais has proof Acton arranged to have a bomb placed on board. He was involved with Neumann in the illegal acquisition of augmentation technology from the Laum at Knevçet Shèràa. They tried to pull me into the mix. I said no. When Rikart pushed, I pushed back harder.” Jani closed her eyes. She could smell it again, the singed-leather stink of shooter gloves. “Acton pushed back hardest of all.”

“Wishful thinking on Anais's part.”

“I was there, Evan, remember?”

“My father was many things. But he believed in Lady Commonwealth. He would never have slaughtered her soldiers.”

“Knowing what happened to Martin, how can you stand there and say that to me?”

“Knowing what happened to Martin gives me every right. The van Reuter men were always ripe for sacrifice, Jan. That's our job—it's an honor reserved for us alone. Dad would never have deigned to share the glory.” He walked to the bar and refilled his glass. Four fingers of bourbon—no water or ice. “I'm not denying what happened to you. I certainly can't deny Rikart's involvement. But nothing my father did is anyone's concern but mine. He did not become aware of the Laum technology until after the war. Martin paid the first installment on that bargain. Serena and Jerrold paid the second, Lyssa, the third. I'm responsible for the balance, to
be repaid in my own currency.” He took a large swallow. “Anais has come up empty with this search of hers for years. Now, all of a sudden, she thinks she's gotten lucky.”

Jani perched on the edge of a dining-room chair. Took a bite of bread. A gulp of water. She'd eaten this way too many times. Mechanical, tasteless refueling, choked down just prior to getting the hell out of town. “Yes, but this time she had Lyssa acting as Interior mole. Your wife had good reason to hate Acton. She wanted the entire Commonwealth to know what he'd done to Martin.”

“It never occurred to her that she could damage her own reputation in the process. People would ask how she could have allowed it to happen. I tried to explain that to her, but she wouldn't listen to reason. I'm a magnet for women who refuse to listen to reason.” Evan walked slowly toward Jani, stopping when he came within arm's reach. “Durian told me about your forced excursion this afternoon. Don't you see what Anais is trying to do? She's trying to drive a wedge between us, convince you it's safe to throw in with her.”

“She may have a point.” Jani brushed crumbs from her fingers. The bread rested like ballast in her stomach. “The Court will be releasing its findings one week from today. The final summation contains a demand for your resignation.”

“How do you know that?”

“I read the report.”

A host of emotions played across Evan's face as Jani's words sank in. Surprise. Elation. Anger. Fear. “Aren't you the enterprising one,” he finally said, his words strung out like beads on a wire. “How did you manage to obtain it?”

“Never mind.” Jani picked out another roll. “Besides, I don't have it anymore.” Technically, that was true. She had stashed it in the women's locker room next to Interior's main gymnasium. “You don't sound surprised.”

“I had my own artfully acquired copy delivered into my hands earlier today. Neatest piece of fiction I've read in years. I noted several gaps in the evidence. They seemed to coincide with every point the Court needs to make its case.” Evan sighted Jani with the cobalt stare that had swayed voters for two decades. “Did Anais provide you with your copy of the report, by any chance?”

“Why would she do that?”

“She'll use you, Jan. She'll take what she can, then lock you up and throw away the code.”

“And you're offering me so much more, aren't you?”

“I can offer you anything you want.” He sat in the chair next to hers, still taking care to keep his distance, not to allow anything he did to seem threatening. “I never stopped caring for you. I never stopped wishing things had worked out differently. My life with you in Rauta Shèràa was the best time of my life. I want that life back.”

“Evan, don't lie to me. You brought me here to salvage that old bastard's reputation.”

“I brought you here to take care of you!” His fingers tightened around his glass, the knuckles whitening. “To make it up to you, for everything you went through. I had a house in the city picked out for you. A job, if you wanted to work. I had it all planned.”

“I don't need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”

“I've seen your idea of taking care of yourself. I've seen what it's done to you. Leave the thinking to someone else.”

But thought is all I have
. Planning. Outwitting. The art of seeming to give in when actually giving nothing. She'd read her Service file in the library carrel, through shrewder, more discerning eyes.
I'm what I've always been, only more so
. “I don't like to be beholden, Evan. I prefer to pay my own way.” Jani stared at him until the arrogant gleam in his eyes degraded to uncertainty. “In my own currency.”

Evan sank back in his chair. The skin on his face was greyed, the hollows beneath his eyes, deepened. “Has Anais identified you? Does she know you're Jani Kilian?”

“No. She had me scanned. The current pattern doesn't match my Service ID.”

“Well then, what can she do to you? How can she threaten you? Don't let her scare you—she has nothing!” He touched her at last, resting his hand on her knee. “Just keep your mouth shut and wait her out. Follow my lead—I've brazened my way through more than one full frontal assault in my time.” Taking her silence for agreement, he pressed a touchpad alongside his place setting. Uniformed staffers entered by
way of a narrow access door and began serving the first course.

“So what did you do today?” he asked when they were again alone. “Besides getting yourself kidnapped and purloining top secret Cabinet documents.”

“Just mucked about.” Jani fished a mushroom slice out of her soup. Fungi, she had learned over the past few months, were
not
an option. “Visited the Library.”

“You seem to have made some interesting friends.” Evan filled his wineglass to the brim. “Durian told me you've been seen with Steven Forell. Durian has a great deal to say about Mr. Forell, none of it complimentary.”

“Durian wants to wrap his slimy paws around Angevin Wyle. He blames Steve for keeping that from happening. If he knew how Angevin really felt about him, he'd spin in his well-appointed seat for a week.” Jani ate what she could of the soup, then tested the green salad. When she looked up, she found Evan studying her, chin cradled in hand. “What?”

“How long have you been here?” he asked.

He's so close. He wants me to reach out and touch
—Jani felt the heat rise in her face; she looked down at her plate. “Little over a day.” The salad contained chopped apple. She reached for the pepper mill instead.

“So much news acquired in a little over a day. Tell me, are there any other love affairs affecting members of my executive staff that you think I should know about?”

Jani regarded the mill in her hand. It had a decidedly suggestive shape. “Well, the head of your Farms Bureau used to holo himself screwing assorted animal life in his office. He's not doing it anymore, though. AgMin shut him down.”

Evan's eyes widened. He sat back and clamped a hand over his mouth.

“I hope we're not having lamb or chicken tonight,” she added peevishly.

His shoulders shook. Gently, at first, then more and more violently. He'd always been a remarkably quiet laugher. He'd turn red and choke before he'd make a sound.

Jani continued eating. After a minute or so, she reached over and thumped Evan between his shoulder blades. He inhaled with a wheezing gasp.

“I don't remember—the last time—oh shit, Jan, don't ever do that to me again.” He wiped his tearing eyes with his napkin, then sat quietly, his hands over his face. “I remember the night—they threw us out—of the Consulate bar—oh hell.” He started up again, though much more weakly. “You'll stay here, won't you?” he asked when he'd finally summoned the strength to talk in complete sentences. “If they can't ID you, why leave?”

Jani examined the spice dispenser. Something called
ground habañero
had a lightning bolt beside the name. She sprinkled it liberally on her salad. “What if you're forced to resign?”

“Then I'll resign. Move back to the house in the Bluffs, play the gentleman of leisure. Answer my question, Jan.”

“Gentleman of leisure. You'll go crazy.” She coughed. The habañero wasn't bad.

“I won't go crazy if I know you're nearby. I'd sleep easier tonight if I knew I could count on you. Can I?”

“Why would you think you couldn't?”

Evan pressed a hand to his temple. “You're deflecting me. One eye on the exit, just like always. I could afford your evasions in Rauta Shèràa. I can't afford them now. Can I count on your support or not?”

Always the pressure to give and give…in exchange for what
? She wasn't the only one who hadn't changed with time. “Blind loyalty's a quality I can't afford, Evan. Tell me what to expect.”

“These situations tend to follow a pattern. No one will officially acknowledge my existence for about six months, although my real friends will send notes and such, just to make sure I'm keeping body and soul together. Then I'll start getting visits. Old allies asking for advice. Old adversaries checking my pulse. Within a year to eighteen months, I'll be ready to make a run at a deputy Cabinet seat. Next thing you know, it'll be like I never left.”

“Sounds formulaic.”

“It happened to Dad. It's happened to me before.” Evan stirred his soup, which he'd barely touched. “It's just politics.” He watched her eat, his brow wrinkling. “You used to tell me how spicy your mother's cooking was.” He pointed
to her salad plate. “I never thought that was what you meant. Lacks subtlety, at least from where I'm sitting. What's going on?”

Jani looked down at her salad. “I don't know what you mean.”

“The chef aboard the
Arapaho
had some interesting things to say concerning your culinary requests.”

“You had crew reporting on me?”

“No. Durian did.”

“Durian did?”

“I'll admit he may not have had the purest motives, but when I spoke with him a few hours ago, he seemed genuinely concerned.” Evan propped his elbows on the table and tented his hands. “He suggested I ask you a few questions. For example, are you drinking a lot of water—”

Jani set down her refilled glass. The third. No, the fourth—

“—and are foods that you'd once been able to eat with no reaction making you sick now?” Evan jerked his chin in the direction of Jani's salad. “Have your tastes changed, become what most of us might consider odd? Have you been experiencing body aches, abdominal distress—”

“You sound like John Shroud.” Jani tried to laugh. “Interrogations every third day, same hour of the morning, same crummy therapy room.” If she closed her eyes, she could visualize the bare, dark tan walls, the restraint-bedecked myostimulator squatting in one corner like the hulking torture device it was.

Evan disrupted her grim vision. “Jani, one colonist has recently died from a condition which began with the symptoms I described. The symptoms you're evidencing. I wish you'd see a doctor.”