Chapter 84: Plain Sight

  “And this,” Rudy added, gesturing to Chloe, “is my girlfriend, Chloe Hughes. Give her a hand, ladies and gentlemen. She managed what every girl in the galaxy has been trying since I first made it into the public eye.”

  Chloe blushed as red as he'd ever seen her, and he hadn't seen her doing that much lately.

  The crowd seemed too startled to know whether to applaud, move away from her, or try to rub her for good luck. Fortunately, she had the presence of mind to step away from them and join Rudy on the platform he'd commandeered. The far end of the platform he'd commandeered, anyway.

  Chloe's movement seemed to break the dam of shock he'd built over the crowd. Questions burst forth.

  “Where have you been since the Wellach Cup?”

  “Do you have any special plans for this tournament?”

  “Where were you during the rebellion?”

  “How did you two meet?”

  “What do you have to say about your brother's recent sentencing?”

  Rudy winced at the last question. “Guys, please. I just got here. One at a time.”

  It was a bad place for a press conference, not least because at least two thirds of the speakers weren't actually part of the press and didn't even try to obey its rules, unspoken or otherwise. Rudy heard as much applause and as many catcalls as he did actual questions, and there was no way they planned to talk one at a time.

  Fortunately, he didn't plan on talking to the press just yet. He needed them to talk, and to put cameras on him, so he could get the attention of the people he did want a word with.

  He could feel Chloe's eyes burning into his back.

  For the moment, she was going with his bluff. He had a feeling her cooperation had more to do with not knowing how to get away than with thinking he was any kind of sane.

  Well, Rudy didn't need Chloe to tell him his plan was crazy. Crazy like a fox.

  He hoped.

  It occurred to him that he'd heard that expression, but he had no idea what, exactly, a fox was, or even what planet it came from.

  He wondered if he was right about what the phrase meant.

  He spent the next five minutes fielding inane questions. More and more actual news crews drifted in and mechaneer wannabes faded out. Fed police showed up, too, but so far they hadn't made a move. He assumed they were getting feedback via their helmets and the higher-ups they contacted didn't know how to deal with his announcement, either.

  Rudy didn't commit to anything from either cops or reporters. Neither did Chloe, when they remembered to talk to her. He noticed the former seemed more interested in what she had to say.

  Finally, a hovering vehicle like a covered skiff swept down toward him and Chloe. It opened a door marked with the colors of the Marchesses' United Shipping Magnate as it dropped, scattering a crowd of reporters before they realized it wasn't actually going to land on them. Probably.

  “Mr. Algreil, Ms. Hughes,” a man in a lightly armored Marchess Wardens uniform said, “I've come to pick you up.”

  And what, Rudy wondered, dump us outside the atmosphere? He said, “That's nice of you, man, but we're having such a great time here, and I still have to finish signing up for the tournament. Maybe you could come back later?”

  “This is a personal request from Mr. Marchess,” the Marchess man said. “He would very much like to talk to his nephew-in-law.”

  “In that case,” Rudy said, turning to Chloe, “I guess we can't really refuse, can we, Clo?”

  “You're probably right,” she said.

  Rudy nodded. He hopped aboard the vessel and quickly cased it: spacious interior wide enough for he and Chloe to share without upsetting her precious erinyes, three Marchess Wardens – and the oligarch of the house. “Hiya, Georg,” Rudy said. He waved. “Long time, no see.”

  Georg Marchess looked even more sour than usual. “I'm given to understand you have a guest you wish to bring?”

  “Girlfriend, actually,” Rudy said. “We're not leaving without her.”

  “I am uncomfortable bringing... that person... aboard,” Georg said.

  “You really think a couple of meters difference would protect you from her?” Rudy asked.

  Georg Marchess's eyes bugged out.

  Rudy leaned out and waved to Chloe. “Come on up, Clo. This thing is pretty swank.”

  She fixed him with a glare that could have probably literally melted steel if she'd wanted it to. Unless the steel was within a meter or two of Rudolf Kaine Algreil. But she took the Marchess Warden's hand and let him pull her up into the skiff.

  Rudy took a seat on one end of the open bench. Chloe took the other. There were only a couple of meters between them, and he could see her shifting uncomfortably. For a second, he thought he saw a flash of silver roiling on her skin.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Nobody else caught it, though.

  “Algreil,” Georg Marchess said.

  “Uncle-in-law,” Rudy said. “How's the backstabbing business?”

  “You are not being a very good guest.”

  “And Alarie apparently wasn't a very good partner,” Rudy said. “What with the whole pointing a battleship at Otto thing. So I figure, what the hell, we're probably about even except for the part where my brother gets killed before the week is out.”

  “What do you think you're doing here? What are you bringing her here for?”

  Chloe turned her glare to him. “Excuse me?”

  Georg shied from her. “Ah –”

  “Georgy here knows the score,” Rudy said. “He knows, or thinks he knows, who you are. Right, Georg?”

  “She's the Emperor's daughter,” Georg breathed.

  Chloe laughed. “You think I've got the power to destroy your body and mind with a stray thought and you're being rude to me?”

  “The Marchesses suffer from a chronic social disorder,” Rudy said. “Two, actually. They've got no manners and no brains.”

  “I did not come here to be insulted by you, young Rudolf,” Georg said indignantly. He was apparently mad enough to forget his fear, at least for a few seconds. “How dare you come to the heart of Etemenos? The Senate will have both your heads along with your brother's.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “W-what?”

  “What will they charge us with, Georg? What capital crime did Chloe or I commit? Hell, what crime at all?”

  “You are clearly dangerous to their precious peace and equality,” Georg said. “That’s reason enough to see you dead.”

  “For the Senate, maybe, or at least the parts that actually give a damn about the stuff you just mentioned. But c'mon, Georgy, knocking off a popular tournament mechaneer on the eve of the Etemenos Cup? Without even charging him with anything they can get to stick?”

  “You must have done something,” Georg said. “Your brother is a known traitor. Her adoptive father is a known traitor.”

  “I have a name, Mr. Marchess,” Chloe said.

  “So you do, Ms., uh, Hughes, right?”

  “The same name as the good man you and your daughter set up to die at the Senate's hands,” Chloe said flatly. “Maybe you should remember it.”

  Georg gulped. “It... it doesn't change anything. The Senate will never grant either of you a centimeter. You're too dangerous to let live.”

  “So they, what, rub us out with the whole galaxy watching? The Etemenos Cup is the most recorded event in human history. Killing us now would certainly send a message: the people you've elected to the Senate can and will order anyone, anywhere, anytime executed without trial for whatever reason they want to make up. I'm sure it'll be a hit with their constituents.”

  “She – Ms. Hughes – is the Emperor's daughter. That's reason enough!”

  “And people will believe that?” Rudy chuckled. “I know the opposition candidates won't when all those senators come up for reelection.

  “And,” Rudy added, cutting Georg off, “in case you were thinking we could be quietly escorted off the mortal coil, go ahead and try. I'm like a cockroach. You can't keep me down. As for Chloe... well, let's just say it won't be quiet if somebody tries to hurt her. Sure as hell not quiet enough to keep it under the radar of a world-city full of reporters, every last one of them interested in getting a juicy tournament side story.”

  “You seem to have thought of everything,” Georg said.

  “We do our best,” Chloe said.

  Rudy beamed at her. Since he'd sprung his plan on the spur of the moment and hadn't consulted her, she was probably going to kill him the minute they got someplace private. Until then, she ran the bluff to perfection.

  Georg said. “Your brother, Mr. Algreil, thought the same thing.”

  Rudy's grin faded instantly, and his muscles tensed.

  Chloe shook her head.

  Rudy forced a deep breath down his protesting throat. After a moment, he relaxed. “You won't provoke me, Georg Marchess. And I am not my brother.”

  “You think you're better at our little game than he was, Mr. Algreil?”

  “I think I'm not going to get stabbed in the back by the person I should be able to trust the most,” Rudy said, looking Chloe's way again. In spite of herself, she smiled at that. Maybe she'd only maim him later. “Take that advantage away, and what do you have over an Algreil? It sure ain't your innate cunning or dashing good looks.”

  “Now who’s being rude?” Georg asked.

  “Point,” Rudy said. “Thanks for the lift, Mr. Marchess. If you'd drop us off at the Algreil compound in the second ring, we'd be much obliged. I'd like to see how many of my employees your Fed buddies haven't rounded up for the slaughter.”

  “Your brother is still alive,” Georg said. “Until he's dead, you don't own anything. Even if he were, my daughter is in charge of Algreil Aerospace.”

  “Actually.… you're wrong, Georgy.” Rudy tapped the side of his flight suit. “I had my suit's computer look up some records. In the event Otto Abeir Algreil becomes indisposed for a protracted period, defined as being greater than one month – which he has been – the board of directors places his shares in the hands of one Rudolf Kaine Algreil, who will become acting chairman until the elder Mr. Algreil can return to his duties or a full meeting of the board can be convened to assess the younger Mr. Algreil's suitability for the position.” Rudy drew in a deep breath after the legalese mouthful. “Nowhere is there any mention that the company chair would fall to ‘the elder Mr. Algreil's bereaved wife.’”

  “You can't run your company and compete in a ridiculous mecha tournament,” Georg snapped.

  “Where does it say that?”

  “You think your board will stand for a spoiled brat prancing around in a tournament instead of fighting to keep the company afloat?”

  “So I'm a trust fund baby. Sue me.”

  “I intend to.”

  Rudy grinned at him. “Maybe so. But you won’t bring that suit until long after I win the Etemenos Cup.”

  “Win?” Georg narrowed his eyes. “I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  Did Rudy’s grin slip? He tried to freeze it in place. His voice sure as hell went cold. “As enjoyable as this conversation is, Georg, Chloe and I really have to run. Are you going to drop us off where I asked, or should I call someone from the estate to come and get us?”

  “I'll call an Animus Hunter to come and get you,” Georg sputtered.

  “Then you'd better call more than one,” Chloe said softly. Even Rudy felt a little chill, especially when he glanced over and she had the slightest little smile, cold and almost inhuman. He had an uncomfortable feeling it was the erinyes smiling rather than Chloe. Maybe she just wanted to give that impression. He could hope.

  “More than... oh, merciful Principle!” Georg Marchess looked like a man about to suffer heart failure. Rudy happened to know the man's original heart had been upgraded for a nanotech-grown mechanical replacement years ago, so he wasn't in any actual danger. Unfortunately. “Fine. I'll take you where you want to go. Just – get off my shuttle!”

  “With pleasure,” Rudy and Chloe said simultaneously.