Walter Williams - Conventions of War

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Casimir was in the apartment of a smiling, elderly couple who apparently did very well for themselves renting out their spare room as a safe house. The room was roomy and comfortable, with flower pots on the windowsills, fringed throw rugs, the scent of potpourri, family pictures on the walls, and a macrame border around the wall video. The remains of Casimir’s dinner sat on a tray along with a half-empty bottle of sparkling wine.

Sula kissed him hello and put her arms around him. His flesh was warm. His cologne had a pleasant earthy scent.

“I think we’ve got a false alarm,” Casimir said. “The Legion doesn’t seem to be after me. Or Sergius, or anyone but Julien. There haven’t been any raids. No inquiries. Nobody’s been seen doing surveillance.”

“That may change if Julien talks,” Sula said.

Casimir drew back. His face hardened. It was as if she’d just challenged the manhood of the whole Riverside Clique.

“Julien won’t talk,” he said. “He’s a good boy.”

“You don’t know what they’re going to do to him. The Naxids are serious. We can’t count on anything.”

Casimir’s lips gave a scornful twitch. “Julien grew up with Sergius Bakshi beating the crap out of him twice a week-and not for any reason either, just for the sheer hell of it. You think Julien’s going to be scared of the Naxids afterthat?”

Sula considered Sergius Bakshi’s dead predator eyes and large pale listless hands and thought that Casimir had a point. “So they won’t get a confession from Julien. There’s still Veronika.”

Casimir shook his head. “Veronika doesn’t know anything.” He gave her a pointed look. “She doesn’t know aboutyou. ”

“But she knows Julien was expecting the two of us for dinner. And the Naxids will have seen that Julien was sitting at a table set for four.”

Casimir shrugged. “They’ll have my name and half of yours. They’ll have a file on me and nothing on you. You’re not in any danger.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Sula said.

He looked at her for a moment, then softened. “I’m being careful,” he said in a subdued voice. He glanced around the room. “I’m here, aren’t I? In this little room, running my criminal empire by remote control.”

Sula grinned at him. He grinned back.

“Would you like something to eat or drink?” he asked.

“Whatever kind of soft drink they have would be fine.”

He carried out his dinner tray. Sula toured the room, tidied a few of Casimir’s belongings that had been carelessly discarded, then took off her shoes and sat on the floor. Casimir returned with two bottles of Citrine Fling. He seemed surprised to find her on the floor but joined her without comment. He handed her a bottle and touched it with his own. The resinous material made a light thud rather than a crystal ringing sound. He made a face.

“Here’s to our exciting evening,” he said.

“We’ll have to make all the excitement ourselves,” Sula said.

His eyes glittered. “Absolutely.” He took a sip of his drink, then gave her a reflective look. “I know even less about Lady Sula than I do about Gredel.”

She looked at him. “What do you want to know?”

There was a troubled look in his eye. “That story about your parents being executed. I suppose that was something that you said to get close to me.”

Sula shook her head. “My parents were executed when I was young. Flayed.”

He was surprised. “Really?”

“You can look it up if you want to. I’m in the military because it’s the only job I’m permitted.”

“But you’re still a Peer.”

“Yes. But as Peers go, I’m poor. All the family’s wealth and property were confiscated.” She looked at him. “You’ve probably got scads more money than I do.”

Now he was even more surprised. “I’ve never met a whole lot of Peers, but you always get the impression they’re rolling in it.”

“I’d like to have enough to roll in.” She laughed, took a sip of her Fling. “Tell me. If they don’t find Julien guilty of anything, what happens to him?”

“The Legion? They’ll try to scare the piss out of him, then let him go.”

Sula considered this. “Are the Naxids lettinganyone go at all? Or does everyone they pick up for any reason join the hostage population in the lockups?”

He looked at her and ran a pensive thumb down his jaw. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Plus he could be hostage for his father’s good behavior.”

Casimir was thoughtful.

“Where would they send him?” Sula asked.

“Anywhere. The Blue Hatches, the Reservoir. Any jail or police station.” He frowned. “Certain police stations he could walk right out of.”

“Let’s hope he gets sent to one of those then.”

“Yes. Let’s.”

His eyes were troubled.

Good,she thought. There were certain thoughts she wanted him to dwell on for a while.

The first use of the Sidney Mark One rifle came the next morning, as a car drew up alongside two Naxid members of the Urban Patrol and gunned them down. Unfortunately, the driver failed to make a successful escape and three young Terrans were killed in a shootout that left two more members of the Patrol wounded.

Despite the fact that the assassins had been killed, the Naxids shot seventy-two hostages anyway. Why seventy-two? she wondered.

Team 491, alerted by Casimir through the Riverside Clique’s contacts in the police, stayed indoors for the day.

By then Sidney had his Mark Two ready. Sula called him as the team were out making deliveries, and he said things were excellent, not first-class, and she could pick up her package.

The Mark Two was a pistol, small and useful for assassination, that used the same ammunition as the Mark One. It came complete with designs for a sound suppressor.

Sula kissed Sidney on his smoky mouth, gave him enough money to pay the next month’s rent on his shop, and let PJ buy them all lunch.

Meanwhile, Julien had been cleared of suspicion by the Legion of Diligence, though he was remaining in custody as a hostage. Casimir called to tell Sula. “He’s in the Reservoir prison, damn it,” he said. “There’s no way we can get him out of there.”

Calculations shimmered through her mind. “Let me think about that,” she replied.

There was a moment of silence. Then, “Should we get together and talk about it?”

Sula knew there were certain things one shouldn’t say over a comm, and they were skating right along the edge. “Not yet,” she said. “I’ve got some research to do first.”

She spent some time in public databases, researching the intricacies of the Zanshaa legal system, and more time with back numbers of theForensic Register, the publication of the Zanshaa Legal Association. More time was spent seeing who in theRegister had left Zanshaa with the old government and who hadn’t.

Having gathered her data, Sula called Casimir and told him she needed him to set up a meeting with Sergius. While waiting to hear back from him, she prepared the next number ofResistance.

In addition to including plans for the Sidney Mark Two, she praised the Axtattle sniper-“a member of the Eino Kangas wing of the secret army”-and eulogized the assassins of the Urban Patrol officers as “members of the Action Front, an organization allied with the secret government.” She hoped the realization that they hadtwo organizations fighting them now would drive the Naxids crazy.

When Casimir called, he told her the meeting had been arranged. Sula removed her contacts, donned her blond wig, and went to the Cat Street club to meet him.

Sergius Bakshi and Casimir had resumed their normal lives after the Legion had released Julien to the prison system, as Sula was taken to meet Sergius in his office, on the second floor of an unremarkable building in the heart of Riverside.

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