Page 184 of Reaper Said Mine

"Some of it."

"How much?"

He looks away toward the stars.

"I know Zune wanted something."

"Like what?"

"Conflict."

The word lands heavily between us.

Gnash watches the darkness beyond the station.

"He provoked everyone."

"He threatened you."

"He threatened others."

I think back to the conference chamber, to Zune's arrogance and the certainty he carried right up until the moment he died.

A terrible possibility takes shape.

"What if he wanted that?"

Gnash turns toward me.

"What?"

"What if he wanted you to kill him?"

Silence stretches between us—not empty silence, but the kind filled with thoughts neither person wants to voice.

Finally Gnash asks, "Why?"

"Because dead executives are useful."

The idea makes me sick, but I keep going.

"Martyrs move markets. Crises justify military action. A corpse can't be interrogated."

His eyes narrow.

"What if his job wasn't to stop negotiations?" I continue.

"Ursa."

"What if his job was making sure negotiations failed?"

The question hangs between us.

Gnash doesn't answer.

He doesn't need to.

I can see the possibility taking root behind his eyes, and that terrifies me—not because he's foolish, but because he's intelligent enough to recognize how plausible it sounds.