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“Does she know it’s the Syndicate?”

Holiday shrugs. “We don’t know what she knows. And she’s not sharing information. We caught some of her investigators breaking into the crash site.”

I scratch my head. Fingers are getting itchy for a burner, stomach knotted for more zoladone. “Well, if that woman declares war on the Syndicate, the kids are as good as chopped. They’ll start sending body parts to the Citadel in thorn-wrapped boxes.”

“Which is why we are here and Republic Intelligence is not,” Holiday says. “You know the Syndicate better than we do. We need you to come in and help coordinate the rescue effort.”

“Not a chance. They have people in your government.”

Holiday squints. “How do you know that?”

“We were given the boy’s itinerary more than a month in advance. But they didn’t volunteer any other insiders. Prolly didn’t want to burn them. Which is why I had to recruit you….” I look at Lyria. “If they know I’m helping you…”

“Body parts,” Lyria says.

“If we’re compromised, then you’ll have to retrieve them,” Holiday says.

I snort a laugh. “Fuck that.”

“Thought you’d say that. I know you don’t care about your life, Ephraim. But something tells me you care about hers.” She sets a holocube down on the table and an image of a cell appears with a woman hunched on a bench with her head in her hands. It’s Volga.

“We found her at the Cerebian Zoo,” Holiday says. “She was easier to find than you were. What wasn’t easy was keeping the Telemanuses from killing her on sight.”

“If you touch a hair on her head…”

“No. It’s your turn to listen. Your turn to obey. If you do not do everything I ask, then I will give her to the Telemanuses.” Lyria looks as surprised as I am.

“Don’t hurt her,” I say.

Holiday leans back. “So there is someone in there.”

“She didn’t want to do it.”

“I don’t care. You will bring me the children. Then you can have your friend back.” She stares back at me without remorse. “This is the game you decided to play.”

I look back at the holo and wonder how I ever could have been cruel to Volga. She followed me like a puppy from the day we met. All she gave me was love. She never even asked for it in return. Since she was born she’s been a slave, a monster. Kicked down by everyone. Then she found me and I treated her just the same. I feel sick.

“There’s a way,” I say. “But I want a pardon for me and Volga.”

“A pardon? After what you’ve done?”

“I want it in digital with a third-party negotiator.”

“No pardon for the rest of your crew?” Lyria asks.

“They’re dead. Why do you think I’m even talking to you?” So much for my code.

“What do you think, my liege?” Holiday says as she looks at me. She tilts her head. “She wants to speak with you.” Holiday touches her datapad and the face of the Sovereign appears in front of me. Her eyes are a pure liquid gold that have seen fleets burning off the shoulder of moons and war criminals walk free on her warrant. I hate her without measure.

“Ephraim ti Horn.”

“Lionheart.” The informality irritates Holiday. “I want Volga released immediately.”

“No.”

“Then we have a problem.”

“She will be released when I have the children back. I will have a binding agreement drawn up via the Ophion Guild.”

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