easy way to distract me from what I really wanted to do, from the one thing that would make me happy.
'And that was killing you.'
Natch edged back, flailing his arm behind him in search of the door. He realized with dismay that it had vanished. He didn't want to know anymore why Brone had invited him here this morning, or what his interest in the Phoenix Project was; Natch just wanted out. But the diamond walls completely surrounded him now. He was trapped.
Brone leaned back in his throne and regarded Natch with sepulchral eyes, like someone watching from a separate plane of existence. The disembodied forearm began tapping out a mad rhythm on the cheese plate. 'I spent months planning the whole scenario. I followed you around, Natch, did you know that? I scouted out a thousand locations for the perfect ambush. Should I follow you to Cisco and shoot you down in the forest? Or plug you full of black code on a sidestreet in London? Or just push you off your own balcony in Shenandoah and be done with it?'
Natch rubbed his back against the diamond wall and did not breathe. The door had to be there somewhere ... if he could just pierce the veil of this confounded SeeNaRee....
'But don't worry, Natch,' said Brone, his voice one big sneer. 'You're not in any danger here today.' He spread his hand and stump wide in a conciliatory gesture. His smile was the smile of a ghoul. 'You see, I have found religion.'
The fiefcorp master stared at his old enemy, not comprehending. 'The Bodhisattva of Creed Thassel,' Natch croaked under his breath. 'Where is he?'
Brone gave a long and uncomfortable pause, like a robot in suspended animation. 'I am the Bodhisattva of Creed Thassel,' he said at last.
It took a minute for the words to penetrate Natch's defenses. He turned them around in his head, breaking them down into small digestible pieces to try and make sense of them. Brone the head of the Thasselians?
Before he could get a grip on the situation, the SeeNaRee changed.
Suddenly, they were hurtling through black space in a small starcraft not much bigger than the Falcon that transported them home from initiation all those years ago. Rocks and chunks of ice whizzed by at breakneck speed. Natch looked out the starboard window just in time to see an asteroid the size of a tube train hurtle past them, missing the ship by half a meter.
'I could turn you in to the Prime Committee,' Natch gasped. 'You can't hide exits like that. It's against the law. And you can't just switch environments on the fly without giving me fair warning.'
Brone sat back in his padded captain's chair, toying idly with the steering panel that rose before him from the floor like a metallic mushroom. He did not react at all to the first asteroid collision, which made the rickety craft shudder as if it were a few bolts away from completely collapsing. 'How ironic,' Brone croaked. 'Natch threatening to turn me over to the law? Here at Creed Thassel, we take a more laissez-faire approach to laws. As old Kordez used to say, Rules are for those who follow rules. '
'But-' The rusted hull of a dead spaceship slammed into the side of their craft, sending Natch sprawling onto the floor once again with his teeth chattering. He bit the inside of his cheek with an audible chomp. Brone remained comfortably seated, and Natch noted that the disembodied arm sat motionless on the table. Yet another infraction, thought the fiefcorp master bitterly. Inconsistent laws of physics.
'Creed Thassel was really in abysmal shape when I found it,' continued Brone, studying the fingernails of his good hand intently. 'You'd be surprised how many people think Creed Thassel ceased to exist twenty years ago. There was that expose by Sen Sivv Sor. Financial scandals. A real paucity of leadership. The imbeciles running the organization were even on the brink of losing control of the Kordez Thassel Complex. So when I got religion, Natch, I got it for a real bargain-basement price. They needed my money. They needed my vision and my initiative.'
Cosmic debris continued to slam into the ship, leaving Natch huddled on the floor with his hands over his head. OCHREs had already staunched the bleeding in his mouth, but he couldn't help probing the scar with his tongue. He knew he cut quite a ridiculous figure to his old rival, but survival was all he cared about at this point.
'Forgive me,' sighed the bodhisattva, his voice devoid of supplication. 'I suppose I've gotten carried away.' He waved his hand in the air-the hand of flesh and bone-and the cluttered field of debris outside the ship vanished. The virtual gravity stabilized. 'So let us discuss business, you and I.'
Natch warily got to his feet and brushed himself off. It seemed strange that an hour ago, the only thing occupying his mind was his dire need for capital. Now suddenly, he was treading water in a sea of old landmines. 'Do I have any choice?' he muttered.
'Game playing!' shouted Brone abruptly, his eyes ablaze. He arose from the chair and stood at the port window, his stump resting wearily against the glass. 'All these games we've played throughout the years, you and I. And this whole setup-the invitation, the SeeNaRee, throwing the arm on the table-just another move in the game. A way to put you off guard. But believe it or not, after all the hurt and pain and suffering you have caused me, Natch, I am capable of forgiving you.'
Natch gritted his teeth. Forgiving me for what? he thought.
'Soon, we will all be moving beyond games,' continued Brone. 'All of us ... you, me, the drudges, Horvil, the idiots at the Defense and Wellness Council, all those narrow-minded bean counters at Primo's. Soon, it will make no difference who the winners and losers are.'
'I have no idea what you're talking about.'
'I'm talking about Margaret Surina, of course. I'm talking about the Phoenix Project'.' Natch could practically hear the belittling quotation marks.
'I don't know-'
'Oh, please!' snapped the bodhisattva in a sudden fit of pique. 'Don't waste your breath. The Phoenix Project is the whole reason you held those little fundraising charades of yours, isn't it? It's the whole reason you're here. But even if you hadn't held those meetings, Natch, I would have come looking for you. I know all about your visit to Andra Pradesh. Thasselian agents were watching when you walked in and out of those gates at the Surina compound, and they attended your little performances yesterday too. That's the advantage of having an organization with a secret membership.
'Let me be forthcoming. You're a step behind in this game, Natch, just as you've always been a step behind me in everything else. The struggle for the Phoenix Project was well underway before you butted your nose into it. I have no problem with your pathetic attempts to grab a little portion of the pot, but don't think you can walk away with the whole thing. There are too many people who know too much.'
Natch gave a haughty sniff in Brone's direction. 'And what do you know that I don't?'
'I know what you have been trying to find out-I know what this technology of Margaret's is.' Natch could practically feel Brone's grim smile, even though he was facing the other direction. 'Let me tell you, it is everything you suspect it is, and more. Perhaps even more than Margaret imagines.'
The fiefcorp master hesitated and felt Serr Vigal's suspicions rushing in to fill the hole in the pit of his stomach. Could Brone be telling the truth? The Thasselians continued to pledge their devotees in secret, after all, and there were no Creeds Coalition bylaws preventing people from pledging to more than one creed. 'So what are you wasting time with me for?' said Natch with affected nonchalance. 'If you're so far ahead of me, go talk to Margaret yourself.'
'I have tried, many times. The Surina woman does not listen.'
'Perhaps she's put off by your winning way with people.'
Natch's wisecrack did not succeed in penetrating Brone, now standing at the window rubbing his chin with his handless stump. Natch couldn't help but shiver. 'Obviously, you cannot see the forest for the trees, Natch. I wish I could say this surprises me, but it does not. So let me tell you the truth of the situation that has so far eluded you.' Brone spread the fingers of his good hand out against the window, as if straining to reach something beyond the black void. 'I have seen the future, Natch. And the future is you and I, in business together, selling the Phoenix Project.'
The thought made Natch nauseous. 'Bullshit.'
'I understand your dilemma, Natch,' said Brone, his voice barely a whisper now. 'You want to walk out the door right now and never see me again.' He nodded towards the rear of the spacecraft, where a plain metal door suddenly materialized out of nowhere. 'But Margaret Surina has dangled the carrot just beyond your reach, like
