“I’m sorry,” Rhea said. “I can see why you might bridle at even the mere hint that someone was trying to push you around, given what happened to you. I should’ve used more gentle phrasing. Let me try again: I’d appreciate it if you could bring justice to those involved with the murder of so many innocent civilians.”
Grandas sighed, setting his hands down on the desk. “You don’t understand the delicate political tightrope that is the council. We all have dirt on each other. If I try to expose them, they’ll bring out everything they have on me. And I’m talking about dirt predating Veil’s influence.”
“You’ll find a way to deal with it,” Rhea said. “Besides, you cast them as the murderers they are, any dirt they have on you will pale in comparison. Unless you’ve had people assassinated or something…”
“No, of course not,” he said a little quickly. “Well, when Veil had me, maybe. But anyway, it might prove difficult to arrest them without arresting myself, considering I was officially the ringleader of the plan.”
“Yes, but you weren’t yourself,” Rhea said.
“The hard part will be proving that.” Grandas pursed his lips. “I suppose I could submit to a mind scan. There will be evidence of the chip in my head. Broken up pieces. Assuming Veil doesn’t have me assassinated first. I’m going to have to increase my security. If you could penetrate, getting close enough to do what you did, then it’s not a stretch to imagine what someone with the funding of Veil could do.”
“I noticed the extra security robots you have.” She glanced at the pair that stood on either side of the mayor. “Probably a good idea. As long as you can ensure they never get hacked.”
“These particular robots have no comm nodes,” Grandas said. “And thus, can’t be hacked. At least not remotely.”
“Good plan,” she said.
“I can’t be hacked, either,” Horatio said. “I have several sandbox layers in between my comm node and my main systems. As soon as any sort of attack is detected, it is isolated and inoculated.”
“There are always ways, Robot,” the mayor said. “But admittedly, such an attack would be very difficult. But when it comes to my personal protection, I figure, it doesn’t hurt to exhibit an abundance of caution.”
“So you’re going to proceed with the arrests?” Rhea asked.
The mayor tilted his head. “I’ll try. But Rust Town will definitely be getting water back this afternoon. So, if there’s anything else you want to ask of me in return for what you did, now’s the time.”
She turned to go, but then paused. Glancing askance, she said: “There might be one thing. Do you know who I was?”
The mayor raised an eyebrow. “Who you were?”
“Yes,” she said. “In my past. Before I became the Warden.”
Grandas gave the others a curious glance, his eyes settling on Will.
“Don’t look at me,” Will said. “When we found her, her mind was wiped.”
“I had a mark…” Rhea said, touching her forehead. “But we sanded it away.”
The mayor nodded. “Ah.” His eyes darted to Will. “Even he knows what that mark means. You saw it before she sanded it?”
“He did it, but he refuses to tell me what it is,” Rhea said.
“For good reason.” The mayor sat back.
“Don’t tell her.” Will glanced nervously at Miles and Brinks. “It will serve only to confuse her.”
Grandas studied Rhea, and then sighed. “No. I owe her this much, for saving me.” He leaned forward, looking into Rhea’s eyes. “The mark you bore was a brand of sorts, to indicate your offworld status.”
“Offworld status?” she asked.
“Well, an offworld prisoner, to be precise,” he explained. “For you see, you bore the sickle and ax.” The virtual poster behind him transformed, displaying a sickle and ax crossed over one another.
Miles exhaled with a hiss.
The mayor glanced at him, and nodded. “All prisoners of Ganymede were thus branded.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “I’m from Ganymede.”
“Yes,” the mayor said. “You are a Ganymedean. Or you were.”
She glanced at Will. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“Like I said,” he told her. “It would only confuse you.”
Her eyes drifted to Miles and Brinks, who were staring at her with anger in their eyes. Those looks hurt, coming from them.
“Why was I a prisoner?” she said, quickly turning back to the mayor. “What did I do? I need to know everything.”
“That I don’t know,” the mayor replied. “I only saw you once, at a dinner. You sat at the table of Khrusos.”
“Khrusos?” she said. “Is that the name of some crime lord?”
“No,” Grandas said. “Or perhaps yes, depending on your point of view. I’m talking about the Khrusos who is president of the United Settlements. A member of the High Council that rules Earth.”
“Why would I be sitting at his table?” she asked. “Me, a woman branded with the mark of a prisoner from Ganymede?”
“I honestly don’t know,” the mayor responded. “After the war, I’d heard rumors that the President kept prisoners from Ganymede in his palace for his personal entertainment. Considering how pretty you were, I assumed it must be something along those lines.”
“You didn’t see me any other time?” she said. “Maybe on a streaming site?”
“No,” Grandas said. “I never saw you again after that day. Until we met again.”
“But Veil knew me,” Rhea said. “She must have. The Scorpion works for her, you admitted it when we talked before. And the Scorpion called me Dagger. The Dagger of Khrusos. Does that mean anything to you?”
“I’m afraid not,” the mayor said. “You have to understand… though I was chipped for three years, all the memories I have when Veil was in control are fast fading. It’s like they’ve been ripped away along with the destruction of the chip. I mostly remember those times I was in control of
