“No.”
“Well then. You might find it interesting to take a virtual tour some time. It is a huge city, with millions of inhabitants, not all of whom are law-abiding… which is true anywhere, of course. It has a local police force of its own, and it also has the headquarters of the Imperial Police. And from the statistics I have seen, they’re all kept quite busy.”
Ain’t that the truth, Ashton thought – but did not say aloud.
“You’re saying the Emperor’s minions are not responsible for my agent’s death?” Lebedev wanted to know. “On their capital planet, in their Imperial City?”
“I’m saying that unless your entire network has likewise disappeared or been reported as dead, it is unlikely the Empire had anything to do with it,” Niebecker pointed out. “Have you bothered to check the crime reports which the Empire’s very efficient Imperial Police put out?”
“Uh… no,” Lebedev admitted. “Truthfully, I… didn’t know you could.”
“Then here, let me show you,” Niebecker said. “Drop into channel 983, please. No, Nik, please stay there and perhaps send for an ice pack; your face is discoloring rather nastily.”
“Yes, sir,” Ashton said, sending a VR request for the recommended pack.
The three consuls stayed in VR for over five minutes, all while the Garland and Berinia security guards – more like goons, he thought – kept a threatening eye on Ashton, weapons still drawn though no longer pointed at him. Ashton stayed calm, and gratefully accepted the ice pack when the little receptionist, as frightened as a scared rabbit, scurried in only long enough to hand it to him. He promptly applied it to his face; the eyelids of his right eye were swelling, as was the cheek.
At last the consuls came up for air. Their gazes resumed a present light, and they stared at each other for long moments.
“Who knew?” Beaudelaire murmured.
“Not I,” Lebedev responded. “That was not smart of either of them.”
“Apparently not,” Niebecker said, dispassionate. “Now, perhaps you both have something to say to my assistant?”
“It appears I was in error, Mr. Lindberg,” Lebedev said. “I do not take kindly to the loss of one of my agents, and you were the only new factor, so I assumed you to be untrustworthy. I regret the incorrect accusation.”
“Thank you, Your Excellency,” Ashton murmured.
“And you, Baron Beaudelaire?”
“Hmph,” Beaudelaire responded, arrogant. “I have my eye on you, Mr. Lindberg.”
And he snapped his fingers and stalked out, followed by his guards.
Lebedev rolled his eyes at Niebecker, gestured at his own guards, and left rather less haughtily.
Once everyone else was out of earshot, Ashton turned to Niebecker.
“What the hell was that all about, if I may ask, sir?”
“You are still confused?”
“Well, I gathered, um, that an intelligence agent got killed, and another one went missing, but…” He shook his head, then winced, and pressed the ice pack closer. In turn, Niebecker winced in sympathy. “Past that, I’m clueless.”
Niebecker shook his head as well.
“Private little wars, Nik. Specifically, between Beaudelaire’s agent and Lebedev’s. And Beaudelaire’s man took out Lebedev’s, but didn’t do it cleanly, and got himself arrested for it. Nothing whatsoever to do with intelligence; just an old feud gone bad. Now, however, they have to move swiftly, or they’re going to have their networks found out. I have it to understand that the detectives in Imperial City are outstanding in their abilities.” He moved to crouch by Ashton’s chair. “Move the ice pack and let me have a look, here.”
Ashton did as he was told, and Niebecker examined the bruising.
“Well, that’s going to be nasty later tonight and tomorrow,” he said. “The bastard was wearing a ring, and it clocked you across the cheekbone, there; there’s a slight abrasion, but it isn’t cut. Does it feel broken? Do your teeth ache, or the like?”
“Not offhand, no,” Ashton decided after a moment to check. “Is there a physician in the consulate?”
“Not yet,” Niebecker sighed. “I’ve been pressing to have one sent. Will you allow me to palpate it to check? I was a military field medic during my service days, so I should be able to tell, though it’s going to hurt…”
“Sure. Go ahead. If I scream, it’s probably busted,” Ashton said with a rueful chuckle.
Niebecker grinned, then carefully palpated Ashton’s cheek, moving up and around the orbital of the eye to the browbone, while Ashton tried not to flinch.
“There. Did it hurt too much?”
“No, surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as I expected. Oh, it didn’t feel great, but I’ve had broken bones before, and it doesn’t hurt like that did.”
“Good. I don’t feel anything that indicates the cheekbone or browbone broke, so you should be good… as far as that’s concerned. His fat fist probably helped distribute the blow, at least a little. But I think I’m going to have my driver take you home now, so you aren’t trying to walk home alone with an eye half-swollen shut. And you probably should get on home soon.”
“Oh, I don’t feel right, using your limousine, sir.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I know. I just would feel… fake. Like, I was pretending to be the consul or something. And,” Ashton added, “having a limo show up in my neighborhood would be a little… unusual. It might not go over well.”
“You don’t live in a bad neighborhood, surely?”
“No, but it isn’t top of the line, either, sir. Remember, up until you made me your assistant, I was living on a janitor’s salary.”
“Oh, of course! But do you plan to move to a nicer area?”
“We do, but wanted to save up a bit, first. Our apartment is safe, and it accommodates us,
