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Dancer eases out a breath. “You two thought I knew. That I was his accomplice?”
“She didn’t,” Sevro says. “I did. Sorry.” He backs away to the counter as if distance will erase the memory of Dancer wanting to rip his throat out. Forget malice or anger. All should beware the wrath of an offended soul. “She insisted we talk before…you know. So…”
“His name is Faustus. Or I thought it was. Found me in the park. You know I can’t stand all these buildings. He told me he was a painter. Face like that, you’d believe anything. But I know the games. I don’t keep intel at my home. Or talk in my sleep, even for someone like that.” He nods to me. “Your father’s agents were cruel teachers. We learned to be careful.”
“Got sloppy, though, eh?” Sevro says. “He that good in the sack?”
Dancer doesn’t speak for a moment. “Guess I thought I deserved something good. Was off and on for a couple months. I told him I wanted it to stay on. Then he disappeared.” He plays with his knuckles. “Do you think I put Pax in jeopardy?”
“No,” I say. “You didn’t have our flight plan. He might not have wanted anything from you,” I say. “It might just have been the association. I believe you were the fall man. Steal the children, release this to me. Or to the public.”
“Bet your DNA is all over that little love crib,” Sevro says. Dancer looks at him in irritation. “Hey, you did the deed. Syndicate probably took video too. All the good angles.” We both look at him. “He literally fucked a terrorist. I can say what I want.”
“What does the Syndicate want with the children?” Dancer asks.
“They don’t have them.” I tell him all I know, including how the Obsidian must have reached the downed shuttle before my men did. And Sefi’s intended plan. When I have finished, he leans back and rubs his jaw. In the wake of the revelation, he’s demure.
“Gods, letting them take the mines is a risk. What if they use blunt force?” he asks. “A storm on Mercury is one thing but warbands of Obsidian on Mars…”
“Sefi has seen what insurrections do to militaries. She won’t alienate the populace.”
“I hope not…but you’re right about one thing. We need the Obsidian. You want me to convince the Reds of Cimmeria to get on with Sefi, I take it?”
“Not for free,” I say. “I need you to convince the Reds to do it in return for Sefi giving them the share of the mine profits Quicksilver stole. It will be a partnership.”
“And if I vote to let the Reaper die on Mercury, I won’t be able to convince them of anything. The Reds of Mars will think I’ve become a Lunese.”
“Correct.”
“Question,” Sevro says. “If Dancer’s the Red herring then who do you think the Queen’s partner is? Who are they trying to protect?”
It could only be one man.
“If Dancer was set up to fall, if Pax was meant to get leverage over me…” I say. “Cui bono? The most immediate effect is a power vacuum in the Forum. So it must be a senator. With my son out for ransom, I’d be compromised. So the Tribunes would vote for a new—”
“Daxo,” Sevro sneers.
“Oh, shut up,” I say.
He’s put off. “If anyone is an insidious mastermind, it is that obelisk of a human. Octavia did want him alive.”
“She’s right,” Dancer says. “Wouldn’t be Daxo. Wouldn’t be me if they released this. It’d be compromise. They’d need two-thirds vote. Vox would block Daxo. Optimates would block any Vox. It’d have to be someone both parties would agree on. Someone the public would accept. Someone…incorruptible.”
“That gasbag?” Sevro says. “No way he’s a criminal mastermind.”
“Publius is allied with the Queen,” I say.
I feel the certainty forming in me. Ten years ago Publius was no one. Just a public defender for lowColors. How did he rise so high so fast with no benefactors? No campaign donors? Is it so impossible to believe that someone came to him years ago and offered him the world if he would only answer the call when it came? Is it so impossible I could have been fooled by someone so close? No. I make mistakes all the time. And thinking of how he left Daxo’s office, with that comment on the decor, I realize it wasn’t an offhand remark from the mouth of babe. It was a taunt.
All his years of crafting that incorruptible reputation suddenly make sense. He’s not going to vote with me. It’s a trap. With the Silvers I lost, and no Coppers or followers of Publius, no fleet will sail.
“The vote is tomorrow,” I say. “Even if we had evidence on him, it wouldn’t matter. He’s too popular. We take steps to gather evidence, isolate him. And, if he is indeed a collaborator with the Queen, with Atalantia”—Dancer’s aspect darkens at that—“we will bring him down with all the proper and legal might of Moonhall. But for now, we must address the issue. The enemies of our Republic expect us to be divided. They found the faultlines between us, and they jammed a wedge in. We must stand together. Dancer, I need your trust, and I need your votes.”
“You think Atalantia did this through the Queen?” he asks.
“Her or Atlas must have coordinated with her in some way. I don’t know which, but it is a Gold hand holding the strings. They seek to turn us on one another.”
Dancer looks at the datadrop. Before I can react, Sevro smashes it to dust. “Far as we’re concerned, boyo.”
