[Black Fleet Crisis] - 02(110)

“Excessive modesty betrays calculation, andbegs for excessive attention,” said Nil Spaar. “Remember that and be guided by it, if you hope to continue your speedy advance.”

“I wish only to serve the darama in reclaiming the All for the Pure—” Tal Fraan began.

Nil Spaar raised a warning finger. “You were not so eager to refuse credit when the primate of Glory advanced you to your new rank. Do you think that I surround myself with talentless flatterers? I have far more use for cleverness. You are clever, aren’t you, Proctor Tal Fraan?”

“I try not to allow opportunities to escape me, Viceroy.”

Showing an approving nod at being addressed directly, Nil Spaar turned and began to walk slowly along the line of alcoves. Both blood-scent and breeding-scent were bracingly strong in the air. “And how came you to the device which served so well against the vermin?”

“The directive sent by the vermin spoke of prisoners,” said Tal Fraan, following a step or two behind.

“That gave me cause to believe that their actions could be steered by seizing that concern.”

“You risked much in ‘surrendering the advantage over the blockade force in the hope of drawing out their reserves,” Nil Spaar said, stopping and running his fingers lightly over the surface of a nesting that was nearly at term. “This device, this matter of regard for the fate of prisoners—it would not have stopped Yevetha. If it had failed, your entire force could have been lost.”

“The vermin are not strong about death,” Tal Fraan said. “I knew it would not fail.”

“Ah! Then you feel you have pierced their habits so well that you would commit ten thousand lives to the proof?”

“The primate committed them, Viceroy.”

“An incautious answer, Tal Fraan,” said the viceroy, turning. “Would you commit your life on your confidence?”

The young proctor twitched, then shook his head to lift his crests.

“Yes, Viceroy.”

“Good,” Nil Spaar said. “I can have no respect for one who will not gamble his own blood.”

A breedery assistant had been discreetly keeping his distance throughout the meeting. Now Nil Spaar signaled to him, and he disappeared into the anteroom. He returned moments later, leading a nitakka prepared for the sacrifice.

“Wait,” Nil Spaar said to Tal Fraan, and walked to where the nitakka stood on the grate above the drain pit.

The young male met Nil Spaar’s eyes without fear.

“I ask for your blood for my children,” the viceroy said softly.

“The darama honors me,” said the nitakka, dropping to his knees. “I offer my blood as a gift.”

“I accept your gift,” said Nil Spaar. His killing claws appeared and slashed air and flesh with silent precision.

As the sacrifice collapsed to the grating, the viceroy turned away to rejoin his now pale visitor.

“I have pierced your habits, Tal Fraan,” he said.

“They are familiar to me. You look at what I have, and you see yourself. No, I have warned you already—do not deny it. I respect cleverness, and courage, and most of all success. I will keep you here, close by, to serve me. If you understand the opportunity, you can expect to profit from it.” Nil Spaar smiled. “And if you err, you can expect to serve my new children instead.”

“Yes,” Lieutenant Davith Sconn said, and blew a puff of smoke from his hoat-stick. The brisk breeze blowing across the north yard of the Jagg Island Detention Center carried the acrid scent away. “I’ve been to N’zoth.”

“I’ve read the deposition you gave to the Intelligence examiner a few months ago,” Leia said. “His evaluation says that in his judgment, you were just trying to earn favors by making something up—that you knew we didn’t have any way to confirm or refute what you said.”

“Then there’s obviously a shortage of intelligence at Intelligence,” Sconn said, turning toward where she sat.

His gaze flicked past her to The Sniffer and The Shooter.

“You must be someone pretty important. I’ve never seen them let a weapon in here before. What if one of us dangerous war criminals got that firestick away from him and took you hostage?”

Leia smiled sweetly. “I do think they’d enjoy it if someone tried.

It’s been more than a year since the last time a fool gave my bodyguards a chance to use deadly force.”

“There ain’t no justice in this galaxy,” Sconn said, and came to sit opposite her. “They get paid for the same thing I’m getting punished for. So who are you? You look a little like Princess Leia, only older.”