The Thousand Emperors

spinning away as the flier’s AG field took hold of them.

The flier rose into the air above the ruined cellar, shedding yet more dirt, twigs, and bird-shit in the process. Kulic stared up at the craft in stupefaction as it moved towards a patch of clear ground next to the ruins, where it dropped back down and came to a rest.

Kulic turned to gape at Jacob, his eyes shining with undisguised awe. ‘And all this time . . . it was just waiting there? I never knew!’

‘Sillars never told the others about it – not Bruehl, and not even your father. He didn’t trust anyone else with the knowledge.’

‘And it was lying here all this time just waiting for you?’

‘For someone like me, yes,’ Jacob explained. ‘That was your father’s job, as it was Bruehl’s and Sillars’ – to find ways to exploit and subvert the Coalition’s security networks, and make it possible for me to fulfil my duty.’ Sillars had transformed the flier into a weapon no less deadly and efficient than any of the devices packed into the case that had so aroused Kulic’s curiosity.

Jacob stretched and flexed his fingers inside their gloves until he could feel the bones and muscles pop and stretch. A memory came to him, of long-ago training camps, where he had been forced to crawl through muck and dirt one day, then dart across boulder-strewn craters in near zero gee the next, while mechants armed with live weaponry attempted to gun him down. By the time his training had finished, he had learned dozens of new ways to kill people.

Kulic must have seen something in his expression. His face grew pale, and he started to back away, glancing towards his horse and cart still tied up nearby.

‘I’ll do anything I can to help you complete your mission,’ Kulic stammered, his Adam’s apple bouncing up and down as he swallowed. His voice took on a whining tone. ‘I helped you out of the woods and hid you. I . . .’

‘I know that,’ said Jacob, his voice soothing as he stepped closer to the old man. ‘And I’m grateful, really I am. But the fact is this mission is much too important to take any risks. Your father would have understood that.’

‘Is it because I tried to open that case?’ Kulic cried out, still backing away towards the well. ‘I didn’t mean any harm, I, I was just curious . . .’

Kulic nearly stumbled over a rock hidden amongst the weeds. Jacob glanced towards the well, and Kulic caught the look, glancing over at it himself before turning back to regard Jacob with bottomless terror.

‘Oh, Jesus,’ Kulic whispered, his breath coming in shaky gasps. His ancient watery eyes stared at Jacob with something almost like longing.

He turned to run, but Jacob lunged forward, grabbing Kulic from behind before he could so much as put one foot in front of the other. Wrapping long, strangler’s fingers around the old man’s throat, he pulled him close in what was almost a lover’s embrace.

‘I promise this will be quick,’ he whispered, and began to squeeze.

FIFTEEN

Luc.

He opened his eyes to see Winchell Antonov, one hand clasped to his injured shoulder, leaning over him. Antonov’s breath came in short, sharp gasps, blood pooling at his feet.

He was back on the bridge of the starship, tied to a chair.

Luc glared dully up at the other man. I could get really sick of this.

Antonov laughed. That’s the spirit! His expression suddenly changed and he grunted with pain, his face shiny and pale. Tell me, how are you sleeping these days, Luc?

Badly. If the lattice winds up killing me, then you die too – or didn’t you think of that?

But not before you finish what needs finishing. If it wasn’t for Zelia, you’d be in Cripps’ hands by now, and almost certainly dead. But there are things you need to do that even she can’t help you with.

I can’t see one reason, Luc spat, for me to believe one damn word that comes out of your treacherous mouth.

Really? Antonov’s expression was cynical. And just how grateful have the Temur Council been to you, for all your service in their name? All those years you spent squirrelled away inside Archives, doing everything you could to try and figure where I was or what I might do next – just how much have they rewarded you for all that effort?

I’m not interested in your fucking propaganda. Just . . . let me wake up, and get the fuck out of my head.

No. You’ve seen enough of the Council to have an idea of who and what some of them really are, but you’re still struggling to accept the truth. They’re monsters, even Zelia – and she’s one of the better ones.

And you think you were better?

Antonov hacked out a cough before answering, flecks of blood on his lips. You’re closer than almost anyone else ever has been, to finding out things Cheng would rather keep hidden from view forever. Neither he nor his cronies can be sure just what I might have done to you while you were wandering around inside Aeschere. And because of that, every last one of them – particularly those damn Eighty-Fivers – would rather see you dead than take a chance you might know something