Laura Anne Gilman - 05 Free Fall by Laura Anne Gilman

Author:Laura Anne Gilman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-02-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

They had been in the middle of an endlessly boring discussion of the next year’s budget in the main office Monday morning when word came of a problem. The only indication that something was amiss came from Duncan’s sudden and obvious change in concentration from what was being said at the table to what was being whispered electronically in his ear. Whoever had contacted him, it was an exchange which clearly did not please him at all.

His angular face, almost Goya-like in its aesthetic piety, rarely showed any expression, but without his usual dark-lensed glasses, an astute observer could see something move behind his eyes that did not bode well for whomever was speaking.

The rest of the suits gathered around the conference table continued in polite subvocalizations among themselves, not willing to waste time but equally unwilling to do anything that might disrupt their master, or cause his attention to fall unhappily on them. The meeting might resume, and it might not. You had to be ready for any possibility. Andre Felhim sat back in his chair, steepled his fingers in front of him, and waited. To his left, a silver-haired woman with youthful blue eyes pulled out a PDA and entered a hurried series of notes to herself. No data transmission was allowed in or out of the room, except what Duncan controlled, but separating a Silence Operative from their electronics was like asking a cat to give up its tail.

A minute turned into two, and the conversations began to falter; people were unsure how far they might take their sidelines without risking censure.

“My apologies,” Duncan finally said, standing with his usual grace and poise. “A situation has arisen that I must oversee personally. In my absence, Karl, if you would please stand in my stead and conduct the meeting?”

A flickering glance swept over the room and a crooked finger indicated that several attendees should leave the room with him. Andre was not sure if it was a good sign or bad that he was among those selected.

The Operative Director knew that he walked a tightrope each moment that he played his game out under Duncan’s eye, unsure if the hand on his shoulder would be praise, or the mark of the executioner.

To all appearances he had given no offense. His words were measured, honest, and useful, his body language stubborn but respectful. Anything less, or more, would raise suspicions he could not afford. Meanwhile, underneath, he touched and prodded, testing for softness, for weakness. For allies, even if they did not yet know they would be allies, when the time came.

Duncan had a cadre, yes. But he also had employees, even within the inner circles. And not everyone had—what was Sergei’s delightful phrase? Not everyone had drunk the Kool-Aid.

And on the other side of the game, he protected Sergei, as much as he could. Not because the boy had once been one of his—loyalty was only deserved so long as it was given—but because Sergei was a

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