Lindsay Buroker - Conspiracy

“I’ve studied the schematics for the implant,” Sicarius said.

“Uh?” The topic change surprised Akstyr, but encouraging it seemed like a good idea.

“The artifact is designed to be sensitive to physical tampering. It hides if it’s touched, and if someone attempts to remove it, it kills its victim.”

Why was Sicarius telling him this? Akstyr had studied the schematic too. He already knew all about the devices.

“It’ll take someone with Science training to destroy it,” Sicarius said.

“I know. I’m not sure I can destroy it, on account of that shaman having been so experienced at Making things, and it’s real strong for something so little, but I was thinking I could stun it for a few seconds. Then someone like you could go in and cut it out before it can squirm away. Once it’s out, you can drop it on the floor and stomp on it.” Akstyr finished with a gulp of air. He’d rushed to make sure he got out the second part, about how he might be able to do something, before Sicarius decided he was useless after hearing the first part. Akstyr didn’t know why Sicarius would care about the emperor or the implant, but if he did that was good for him.

“If you are successful in removing the implant,” Sicarius said, “I will forget your prior transgressions.”

A part of Akstyr wanted to be indignant-the man was a notorious criminal, so he hardly had any justification for calling anything Akstyr might have done to get rid of him a “transgression”-but a bigger part of him was so relieved, he could barely think of an answer. If Sicarius was willing to forget the past, then he could start over, work with the team, get the money for school without betraying anyone, and not have to spend his life looking over his shoulder. And he’d been planning to get that implant out anyway. That was why he had joined the group in the first place, so he could work on Science stuff. The challenge of trying to beat that old shaman’s invention intrigued him.

“Agreed?” Sicarius asked, startling Akstyr from his thoughts.

It wasn’t like Sicarius to get impatient and prompt someone for an answer. Usually he didn’t care if someone answered or not.

“I’m planning to get it out, yeah,” Akstyr said. “But, out of curiosity, what happens if something unforeseen happens, and I can’t stop the implant from… doing it’s job?”

Several long breaths passed before Sicarius answered.

“Do not fail,” he said and walked out the door.

Amaranthe and Sicarius stood by the door in Sespian’s suite. Books sat in one of the purple chairs with the schematic of the device spread across his lap. Akstyr stood by a table laden with scissors, suture wire, tweezers, and Sicarius’s black dagger. Sespian waited on the bed, eying the implements. His face was paler than usual, though he was nodding stoically and grunting in a manly I’m-not-scared-about-this-surgery way as Books and Akstyr explained the procedure.

“They’re fragile once you get them out of your body, so you can smash them with a hammer, but that’s not a real good option when they’re still inside,” Akstyr said.

“I’d imagine not,” Sespian said.

Amaranthe lifted a thumbnail to nibble on only to remember she’d already chomped it down to the nub. She was going to have to find a way to encourage faster nail growth if she was going to be in stressful situations so often. Sicarius’s face seemed a tad paler than usual, too, as he listened at her side. He hadn’t said a word about the handholding, but Amaranthe hadn’t had a chance to pull him aside and explain it either. She wasn’t sure what to explain anyway. Sespian apparently did still care. That was a problem, but one for another day. She forced herself to focus on Akstyr.

“Don’t worry,” Akstyr said. “With Books’s help, I figured that I could stun them with a… uhm, are you squirrelly about the mental sciences?”

“ Sire,” Books whispered.

“Are you squirrelly, Sire?” Akstyr asked.

“Though I don’t have much experience in such matters, I’ve read many of the files in the Imperial Intelligence Office, and I’m aware of reports suggesting the human brain is capable of more than Turgonians officially believe and acknowledge.”

Akstyr gave him a blank look.

“Not squirrelly, no,” Sespian said.

“Good.” Akstyr held a tiger-striped sphere up to one of several lanterns placed around the bed, adding to the light that flowed in through a pair of portholes. “I’ve been practicing on the ones we filched from the shaman’s cave.”

Sespian leaned close to study the details of the small but intricate sphere. “Hard to believe such an insignificant-looking device could kill a person.”

A tiny barb sprang from the surface, and Sespian jerked backward. Sicarius stirred at Amaranthe’s side, and she imagined him springing to Sespian’s defense, should the need arise. It seemed Akstyr was merely showing off a… feature though.

“Slicker than a greased prick, isn’t it?” Akstyr asked.

Books leaned out of his chair to cuff him. “Don’t say things like that in front of the emperor.”

Akstyr rolled his eyes.

“And say Sire,” Books whispered, as if Sespian weren’t right there, watching their exchange. Fortunately, a hint of a smile touched the emperor’s lips.

“Slick, isn’t it, Sire?” Akstyr asked.

“I’ve translated the shaman’s notes to determine how they work,” Books said, launching into his best lecturing professor tone. “There are four of these prongs in each sphere. If someone tries to remove the device from the victim’s flesh-”

“Me,” Sespian said.

“Ah, yes, you. If someone tries to remove it prematurely, the device attaches to the jugular, and the barbs spring out like that.” Books pointed to the protrusion on the sphere. “The barbs pierce your vein, and poison flows into your bloodstream. It’s a near-instantaneous process. The poison induces a seizure, and the victim dies within seconds.”

Sespian was staring, transfixed, at the barb.

“Why don’t you skip to telling him how we’re going to remove it?” Amaranthe suggested.

Sespian tore his gaze from the sphere. “A splendid idea.”

“I couldn’t figure out how to destroy them or turn one off,” Akstyr said, “but I have managed to stun some of them for several seconds.”

“ Some?” Sespian asked.

“Four out of five.” Akstyr shrugged. “Those’re good odds, aren’t they? Each one is a little different. They’re machines but individual hand-Made artifacts too.”

“Magical,” Sespian said for clarification.

“If you insist on using that ignorant Turgonian word, I suppose.”

“ Sire,” Books hissed. “And don’t question the emperor’s education, which I’m certain is far superior to yours.”

Sespian lifted a hand. “It’s all right. I prefer straight talk here. Akstyr, what happens after you stun it?”

“I’ll have to keep concentrating to make sure it doesn’t wake up, so someone else will cut open your neck, dig around in there, and pry it out.”

Amaranthe winced at Akstyr’s bluntness. Surely that had to be straighter talk than anyone would want.

“I see,” Sespian said. “And who will be wielding the knife?” He didn’t look at Sicarius. In fact, he seemed to be making a point of not looking at Sicarius, as if he feared that someone might have already chosen him, but by pretending he wasn’t there, Sespian could change the outcome.

“You’ll want our swiftest, most agile person with a blade, Sire,” Amaranthe said and tilted her head toward Sicarius.

“I’ll try to stun it real fast, so it doesn’t start moving around,” Akstyr said, “but it has this reflex to burrow deeper when there’s a chance it’ll be discovered.”