‘Oh, I won’t, not at all. Nor will Lucas. He’s doing splendidly, by the way, leg healing nicely, and he’s no less interested in your welfare than I am. You
‘I said I’d be doing some sightseeing before returning to Earth,’ Geoffrey said.
‘As well you must.’ Hector made it sound as if Geoffrey was begging approval for something unspeakably sordid. ‘But you can also understand our . . . I won’t say anxiety, rather our stringent need to have this matter resolved as speedily, and as cleanly, as possible.’
‘What matter would that be, cousin?’ Sunday asked.
‘Credit me with at least some intelligence, cousin. Your brother is with you, and we’re picking up reports of a diplomatic breach that can be tied to both an associate of yours and a part of the Moon that our grandmother had a direct connection with – do you honestly expect me to dismiss these connections?’
‘You’re very good, Hector,’ Sunday said.
‘I do my best.’
‘But there’s no connection, I’m afraid.’ She took a vaulting leap of faith. ‘Yes, Geoffrey told me about this glove you’ve all got so worked up about. I made him. But that’s an end to it. This . . . what did you call it? Diplomatic breach? It’s nothing to do with us.’
‘Our sources point to the detention of a close friend of yours.’
‘I’ve got hundreds of close friends. What they get up to is their own business.’
‘And the coincidence of this friend – his name’s Chama Akbulut, by the way – having been arrested close to our grandmother’s crash site?’
‘You said it, Hector – coincidence. And what crash are we talking about anyway?’
Hector made to speak, then tightened his lips and shook his broad, handsome head very slowly. The figment swivelled its baleful, profoundly disappointed gaze onto her brother. ‘This is all deeply regrettable, Geoffrey. You shouldn’t have spoken to your sister. That in itself is a clear violation of our arrangement.’
‘My brother’s a lousy liar,’ Sunday said. ‘But the fault’s yours for sending him here under false pretences in the first place. And whatever promise you made to him, you’d better keep it.’
‘That will depend on the safe return of the glove, and your full and open cooperation henceforth,’ Hector replied.
‘You’ll get your damned glove,’ Geoffrey said.
Hector nodded once. ‘I expect nothing less. But I meant what I just said, and it applies equally to you, Sunday: Lucas and I demand complete transparency.’
The figment vanished. Sunday stared at the part of the room where Hector had been, feeling as if she was still being watched by a malevolent presence.
‘You could have declined the ching,’ Gleb said, sidling back in from the kitchen.
‘And make it look like we have something to hide?’ Jitendra was carrying in the coffee. Though her nerves wouldn’t thank her for it, Sunday gladly accepted one of the steaming mugs. ‘No. I had to take the bind.’
Her brother scratched at his curls. ‘Wonder how Hector found out so quickly?’
‘Like he said – sources. We do business with the Chinese, so why shouldn’t Hector have a friend or two on the other side of the Ghost Wall? For all we know, this goes all the way up to Mister Pei.’
‘Do you think we should call anyone?’ Gleb asked. ‘I mean, my husband’s just been arrested!’
Sunday’s stomach kinked tighter. Chama was her friend, but Gleb was facing the arrest and detention of the person he most loved in the universe. They’d been together a long time, the zookeepers, and their marriage was as strong as any she knew. Even when she tried to imagine Jitendra being in the same position as Chama, she didn’t think it could be compared to what Gleb was now going through. As cold as that made her feel, it was the truth.
Then again, Chama had a history of this kind of thing. So, for that matter, did Gleb.
She heard footsteps outside, clanging up the external staircase. ‘It can’t be the authorities,’ she said quietly. ‘There’s nothing to tie any of us back to the border incident.’
‘Unless,’ Jitendra said, ‘your cousin decided to spread the news.’
Geoffrey buried his face in his hands. ‘This was a mistake from the word go.’
‘Show some spine, brother. We can’t be arrested or extradited without due process, and we’re not the ones in deep shit on the other side of the Ghost Wall.’
Someone knocked. Sunday thought she recognised the rhythm. ‘Open up, please,’ she heard a woman demand, in a voice she also knew.
She set down her coffee and composed herself. Easy to toss out assurances about not being arrested, but she wasn’t nearly as certain about that in her own mind. Pissing on Chinese territorial sovereignty was a fairly big deal. It was entirely possible that the ‘usual’ protocols would be suspended.
She opened the door to a woman in a high-collared blouse and long formal skirt, wearing a face Sunday didn’t know.
‘It’s June,’ the face announced.
‘How do I know that for sure?’
‘You don’t. But let me in anyway.’
Sunday admitted the proxy, shutting the door behind it. The face melted like a Dali clock. When it reconfigured, Sunday was looking at June Wing, chinging a Plexus claybot similar to the prototype Sunday had puppeted on
