Chapter 85: Clue

  The cell block's airlock-like solid door hissed open.

  Jack looked up, expecting another set of Fed guards. He wondered if they were going to drag him to another meeting with Errard Zelph – or if Ellie'd been able to get them to let her visit again.

  The men standing outside the cell he shared with Otto weren't Feds.

  Neither was the slight, brown-haired young woman almost hidden between them.

  “Otto,” Alarie Marchess-Algreil said.

  Slowly, Otto raised an eyebrow. “Wifey dearest. If you came to gloat over my sentencing, why so late, and why bother? You're not the gloating type, and the next time you learn a new skill will be the first.”

  So much for lessons learned, Jack thought. Not that Otto being nice to his wife now would make a damn bit of difference.

  Alarie found her feet very interesting for a second, then looked up sharply. “What's going on, Otto? What's the meaning of this?”

  Otto glanced at Jack. “Was that as ambiguous to you as it was to me?”

  “Beats me,” Jack said. “I'm not sure I know what 'ambiguous' means.”

  He stood up and strode to the bars. “What are you talking about, Alarie?”

  She flicked a glance at him. “I'm very sorry you had to get caught up in all this, Colonel Hughes. You seem like a nice man.”

  “I try,” Jack said. He rested his hands on the bars. “But what's this about?”

  She tilted her head. “You don't know?”

  Otto barked a laugh. “Gee, Alarie, did you hurt yourself figuring that out?”

  “Dammit, Otto,” Jack growled. “I'm not real fond of her right now, either, but could you at least shut up until we find out what's going on?”

  “You planned this,” Alarie said. Her voice sounded distant, and the closer it got, the more hysterical. “This is your revenge, isn't it? Everything you said, everything you told us – but now he's here, and she's here, and we get ground under the wheels! Is that what you want, Otto?”

  “I have no idea who you're talking about,” Otto said. “Maybe if you want to introduce a proper name to the conversation, I'll tell you as many ways you're wrong about them as you have time to listen to.”

  Jack gritted his teeth at both of them. What a couple. He couldn't string together two words without tearing her down. Half the time, she didn't seem to be able to string together two words, period.

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  “Your brother,” Alarie said abruptly, putting the lie to Jack’s thoughts. “Why is he here?”

  Rudy Algreil. Who Chloe had been with. Jack sucked in a harsh breath. “Is my daughter with him?”

  “The Emperor's daughter? Father said so. He said they threatened him, Otto!”

  “I weep to hear of his discomfort,” Otto said. “If Rudy had ball one, to say nothing of brain one, he'd have done a lot more than threaten.”

  “Why are Chloe and your brother here?” Jack asked.

  “That's what I want to know,” Alarie wailed.

  Otto shrugged. “And that's for you to find out, sweetie. Preferably the last thing you'll ever learn. Or maybe the first.”

  Alarie whirled away. Her guards closed between her and the cell, as if they could block Otto's voice. Or thought he could get through the nanomachine-formed bars.

  She whispered, “Why are you doing this, Otto?”

  “That's a tough question,” Otto said. “I'm gonna go with, 'even you should be able to figure that out.'”

  Alarie flinched.

  Jack reminded himself that she was responsible for his capture and impending execution, or at least for his being the lure the senate needed to pull Chloe into their clutches. He reminded himself that Chloe being on Etemenos meant Ellie hadn't managed to contact her and might be in trouble, too.

  It didn't help. Jack didn't have it in him to hate Alarie, or even resent her. Damned spacer chivalry.

  “Well I can't figure it out, Otto,” he said. “Not if you're acting like you had this planned.”

  “I suppose I'm supposed to think your incomprehension means it's completely esoteric,” Otto said.

  Jack glared at the oligarch. “If you think I'm such a moron, why'd you want to work with me?”

  Otto waved a hand at Alarie. “The same reason I hooked up with Ms. Misunderstanding out there. You had something I wanted.”

  “You know what I think?” Jack asked.

  Otto cocked a waiting eyebrow.

  “I think you're lying out your ass, old buddy. You didn't have any idea where your little brother was or what he was doing, except that he was with Chloe last you heard from him.”

  “Or I wanted you to think I didn't know,” Otto said.

  “You're so full of it, Otto,” Jack said.

  Alarie glanced over her shoulder. “D-didn't know? You mean, Rudolf could be acting on his own initiative?”

  “If he's a typical Algreil, he's acting on his own Principle-damned pig-headedness,” Jack said.

  “So sayeth the pot,” Otto muttered.

  “Otto, is that true? Did you really not know? Then...” A nervous smile began to creep its way up her face. Halfway to completion, it froze, and what little color she had drained away. “What does that mean, if them being here isn’t something you planned?”

  Otto rolled his eyes. “Figure it out for yourself, Alarie. Or pay someone to think for you, like your dad does. I've got nothing nice to say to you, and, well, you know how the saying goes? If you can't say anything nice, your idiot spacer cellmate will get his arm broken trying to punch your lights out.”

  “You wouldn't,” Alarie said.

  Jack had no idea if she meant him or Otto. Maybe both. She was wrong in either case.

  Otto leaned toward the bars. “Let me spell it out in small words, Alarie: Get. Out.”

  She took a halting step back. Hesitated. Fled.

  Jack watched her go, then watched her silent guardians follow. Then he turned to Otto. “What was that all about?”

  “Frankly, Jack?” Otto shrugged. “I haven't got a clue.”