“That’s a little creepy. Watching the Pixie sleep. If you’re so fond of him, you should have gone with the kids.”
“The kids?”
“Alexandar and Rhonna went up to the Beatrice not long ago.”
“Why?”
“Something about a gift.” That troubles me. I wouldn’t have stopped it. I have no valid reason. Yet Thraxa senses my unease. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Something’s not been sitting right,” I say. “There’s something about him…”
“Then let’s bring him in.”
“Harnassus says the EMP is flawless, and we’re jamming any signal that leaves the peninsula just as much as Atalantia is. If he’s a spy, I don’t know what the hell he’s doing.”
She forks a piece of fish into her mouth. “You want to talk about it?”
“It?”
“Your wife. My brother. Maybe the rest of my family.”
“No.” I watch her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Naw. Not my bag. But it ain’t fun. Is it?”
“No. It ain’t fun.” There’s an indistinct murmur from the holo. Wait. I fix on the holo as Thraxa frowns.
“What’s the matter?”
“Quiet.”
I amplify the sound and replay the murmur Cato made as he slept. “Did you hear that?” I ask.
“Sounds like ‘something over all.’?”
“?‘Truth over all,’?” I say. I’ve heard that before. But when. When? I can’t pin my finger on it until a slippery sensation works its way up my arm. I bolt upright and run to the door.
“Your pie!” Thraxa calls after me.
* * *
—
I stand over the science team as they shake their heads at my request for a DNA check. “We’ve been under constant attack since we got to Mercury, sir. There’s no DNA census without a re-upload from Skyhall. And we ran him against all the Gold POWs.”
“Run it against this.” I thrust Sevro’s trophy at them. The tech looks down at the bloody robes in confusion. “Now.” I pace behind the techs as they work. It does not take long. The computer beeps and before I look up, I know.
The DNA is related.
“Oh shit,” I hear the techs say as I bolt out of the room so fast I send Thraxa tumbling over a chair. I call Screwface at full sprint. He answers, covering his yawn with his Heliopolitan scarf, having just returned from a patrol in the mountains. “Iron up. Full pack.”
His face falls as he knows he failed. “They’re coming.”
“They’re coming.” Next I call Harnassus. He answers peevishly from the Morning Star. “Are you with Glirastes?”
His weariness vanishes. “No. His shuttle is having maintenance difficulties.”
“Te