Chapter 8

Caitrin let out an exhausting breath and collapsed on the soft, comfortable cushions of the couch. She turned on her side, giving her an angle to view Maya coming through the doorway. Caitrin grabbed the two pillows at both ends of the couch and stuck one between her legs and the other under her head. "Goodnight," she whimpered and closed her eyes.

Maya snorted and shut the door behind her. "If you want the couch, I'll gladly find something more suitable to my tastes. Look at this place," she said, stretching her arms wide.

Caitrin moaned but sat up to get her first real look at their newly assigned room in the Capital Palace. "Whoa."

Both women stood and gawked at the luxuriously furnished quarters that was to be their home during the delegation's stay on Andvari. With a high ceiling supported by large, dark wooden beams, the scope of the place could leave the occupant wondering if they had stumbled upon the Master Chamber. Dark paneling ran along the edges of the room to help frame the fully functional bathroom, kitchenette, dual walk-in closets, and the double doors that led out to an enclosed balcony. Long, violet curtains hung from overhead beams and their swaying motion, via the environmental comfort system, gave the impression the room was alive and flowing.

Two bedrooms branched off the main living area and Caitrin found herself floating towards the rightmost room. A dimly lit nightstand flanking the bed big enough for two beckoned her examination. A tiny holoprojector built into the table's wooden surface displayed the current time, date, and outside temperature. Caitrin then panned her new sleeping quarters with the same amazement as before. A canopy bed, like one she had been dreaming of ever since she was a child, took up the largest portion of the room, and a vanity mirror and a small armoire stationed at the corners of the bedroom kept the room feeling very homey. Caitrin smiled and skipped to the adjacent bedroom Maya had walked into.

She paused in the doorway to find Maya's room a mirror image of her own. "Well, what do you think?" Caitrin asked amusingly.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Maya shook her head. "Something isn't right here." She looked up with a furrowed brow. "It's too clean."

Caitrin raised an eyebrow. "Too clean?" She frowned and thought for a moment. "Do you mean 'too clean for a bunch of Insurrectionists?'"

Maya frowned as well. "Maybe. I don't know. Things aren't making much sense now." She pulled herself farther to the center of the bed and stretched out sideways. "It's just that—" she sighed and brought a hand up to cover her forehead. "Howell told us the Ambassador was coming to negotiate with the Innies, but from first impressions, these people are just like another other colony group." She let out another frustrated sigh. "And this image of Andvari being a utopia feels . . ."

"Artificial?" Caitrin offered.

"Yeah."

"I know what you mean. It's been a very odd day."

Maya snorted. "You're telling me."

From the moment the initial delegation team had entered the complex, Administrator Mahlon insisted the crew from Emissary take the next few days to recuperate and relax while the ship underwent repairs. Ambassador Thorin was very acceptant of this schedule but Captain Abbott insisted on remaining with Emissary while the ship was in the repair yard. Mahlon accommodated for Abbott and the Captain took a skeleton crew to the orbiting facility later in the day. Howell had commissioned a quarter of his staff to go with Emissary, while the rest stayed in the Palace with the Ambassador.

Administrator Mahlon had offered the crew of Emissary free roam of the entire city and encouraged them to spend their time in the fine establishments Milanó had to offer. Howell was very leery of letting any personnel venture outside the Palace walls, but few complained when each was given their assigned rooms in the Guest Wing. Mahlon turned out to be a wonderful hostess. She would constantly ask the Ambassador and his entourage if they need anything while she gave them the grand tour.

The Palace was a monument to the old-fashioned architecture Caitrin had once read about in history books. With the circumference being hexagonal in shape, the outer wall rose nearly forty meters tall and had circular guard posts resting on the top at intervals of fifty meters. Made of mortar and large stones, the ten-meter thick wall personified Milanó as a place of protection and integrity. The largest feature of the Palace was the enormous pair of triangular pillars the stood back to back, one eclipsing the other by two dozen meters. Caitrin imagined from orbit they looked like two giant slabs of limestone that had been chiseled out of the rock and stood upright, but the width was actually a good hundred meters across. The depth and height appeared almost incalculable, since there was nothing in the vicinity in which to compare, but the taller of the two was at least twenty times the height of the outer wall. Since given the grand tour, Caitrin knew they housed the governmental infrastructure that ran Andvari.

It was evening now, and all Caitrin wanted to do was sleep. The Ambassador had settled in to his no-doubt extravagant room and two other guards, one of them Adkins, took the third shift with only mild griping.

The reason the day felt odd to her was from the Andvarians themselves. Even with the message left by Morcant, that these people were on the right side of the "argument", the locals they interacted with were the antithesis of Insurrectionists. From the looks of things, Andvari was the ideal community. That didn't stop Maya from questioning everything the Andvarians did, but Caitrin found the Hispanic woman's facial expression perpetually perplexed.

Caitrin joined Maya on the bed, falling backwards on the other side, their heads mere inches apart. "All this pomp and circumstance could be fake, but to what end?"

Maya shrugged as she stared up at the curtain draped over the canopy bed. "I don't know, but I don't like it." Maya propped herself up on an elbow and faced Caitrin. "Well, there's one way to find out."

Caitrin frowned. "How?"

Reaching over her head, Maya grabbed the chatter listings of local establishments off the nightstand. "Here," she said, as she dropped the tablet between the both of them. "Let's do what Mahlon encouraged." She started thumbing through the directory. "Nothing like a little intel-gathering mission mixed with a little R&R." Her finger paused over the dining section. "What are you in the mood for?"

Caitrin sat up and held her frown. Maya's suggestion of mingling with the locals did fit into Caitrin's own plans, but something deep inside planted a seed of hesitation that was slowly growing in her empty stomach. Trolling around the Municipal District would allow her to establish an approach to her plans. Wait, what are my plans? Maya's dining suggestions became mere background hum and Caitrin shook her head at every choice, as her mind began to drift back to Morcant's last message. She knew she had to find this "Donagh", but Caitrin wasn't even sure how to find him. Hell, Donagh might even be an "it", for all I know. Amazingly, Caitrin had arrived to the very place she needed to be but now had no clue what to do. I doubt Donagh will find me, so I might as well start looking.

"Well?"

Caitrin flinched as Maya's voice came back to full volume in her head. "Sorry, what?"

Maya rolled her eyes. "If you're going to shoot down every restaurant I say, then why don't you pick?" She turned the directory towards Caitrin and smiled. "You decide."

Caitrin scanned the list of Palace-recommended eateries and shrugged. "Tell you what," she said, tossing the tablet back on the nightstand. "Let's just start walking till we smell something good." Caitrin slid off the end of the bed. "Do you think Howell will care?"

Maya picked up the monetary exchange card their hosts graciously left on the other nightstand and tapped it playfully in her hands. "As long as the Andvarian government is paying, I don't think he'll mind."


After a quick change of clothes into something more suitable for pedestrian style, Maya and Caitrin stood in the lobby of the Guest Wing. The local dress was a bit on the bland side, with black and browns making up more than half of the ensemble most civilians were wearing. Both men and women wore slacks and jackets that corresponded with the falling temperature of the night air. Caitrin obligingly fit into a comfortable pair of dark slacks, and wore a hooded jacket made of cotton. Maya had shook her head over Caitrin's choice of outerwear, saying the jacket would be too thin to preserve any heat. Maya decided to go completely native and wore a black jumpsuit with way too many pockets and a khaki duster coat.

Caitrin snickered. "You look like a farmer who's trying to impersonate a pilot."

"You're wrong," Maya said with a wink. "It's the other way around."

They approached the security checkpoint and an armed guard stood rigidly but gave them a nod, looking them up and down. "You ladies going out for the evening?"

"Yes, but we'll be back before too long," Maya responded.

The guard took both of their IDs and gave them a casual glance. He then frowned and looked to both women. "You're security personnel for the Ambassador, right?"

Caitrin slowly nodded. "Is that a problem?"

"No," the man said, looking them over once again. He opened his mouth then clamped it back down. "You are permitted to carry a firearm unconcealed, if you so choose."

Maya raised an eyebrow and did her best to hide her shock. "Really?" She exchanged glances with Caitrin. "That's . . . good to know."

"We'll be fine." Caitrin hastily took their IDs, pushed Maya along, and nodded to the guard. "Thank you."

"Have a pleasant time," the man called after them.

They made their escape through the portico and stopped short once they stepped into the hum of the busy sidewalk. As if verifying the guard's previous statement, Maya nudged Caitrin with an elbow and motioned to the holster of a passing civilian. "He wasn't kidding."

Quietly, Caitrin shook her head and scanned the streets' contents. The pedestrians, most wearing some fashion of a duster, were going about their business armed with pistols on their hips. A light breeze played through the crowd, ruffling some of the people's coats to reveal shinny, simple weapons. Caitrin immediately felt out of her element, imagining herself in some old-style screenplay complete with cowboys and saloons. She leaned over to whisper. "You want to go back and get something to defend ourselves?"

Maya smiled. "If anything does happen to us, I'm sure the locals will put an end to it fairly quickly."

Caitrin snorted. "Yeah, by dropping us with a couple slugs through the chest," she muttered under her breath.

Maya gave a sideways stare. "You've never been to the outer colonies, have you?"

"No."

She slung an arm over Caitrin's shoulder and started leading her up the sidewalk towards the harsh city lights. "Things are a bit laid back out here. You'll be surprised how quick people are to preserve the peace 'round these parts."

"Yeah, that's what scares me."

Maya sighed and Caitrin detected nervousness in her roommate's voice. "Yeah. Me, too."

They did their best to maintain a pace that matched the moving crowd, but found the constant apologies match up with every shoulder bump. Caitrin and Maya only had to walk for a handful of blocks till they reached a string of restaurants arranged around a central courtyard, much like one would find in a mall food court. The layout was in three tiers, with the top floor only catering to those with sufficient credits to have their personal vehicle valet for an outrageous cost. The middle section housed various sit-down diners and offered patio seating that overlooked the grassy courtyard. The bottom tier, which was also the most busy, was the quick-stop fast-food restaurants Caitrin had tried to avoid all her life.

"Well, which one?"

Maya pulled out the expense card their hosts had supplied them. "Hey, when in Rome."

Caitrin grimaced. "We should probably stick with something average," she said, pointing to the second floor of diners. "Besides, who knows what kind of special foods Andvarians consider a delicacy? You know how high society treats its food: small portions and exotic flavors."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Maya motioned for Caitrin to lead the way. "You pick."

Caitrin chose the less crowded NightStar on the hope that "few people" just meant more privacy rather than the avoidance of the food served here. Caitrin asked to be seated somewhere private and was surprised when the waiter led them to the patio area. The closest patrons were tucked away in the bar with a few spilling out into nearby tables. With no one in earshot or paying any particular attention to them, Caitrin felt some of the tension ease in her shoulders. Aside from the buzz emitting from the drinkers at the bar, Maya and Caitrin were placed in relative silence along the outer edge of the patio.

"Will you look at this?" Maya asked, tapping the glass canopy rising up from the thick railing. "Nice touch."

Caitrin nodded and found the attention to detail quite impressive. The curved glass insulated NightStar from the elements as well as the noise from the ground floor and other restaurants. Their table, siding up next to the railing, was worn and cracked, but it appeared that was the intent. The floor was made up of rich, dark wood planks that looked very aged and Caitrin could believe they really were old. The ceiling was a white metal lattice with natural green vines snaked through various openings. Sconces provided the illumination and bathed the patio in a soft golden light. "It sure does make one feel comfortable."

As they received their drinks and munched on some fried appetizers Maya had ordered, Caitrin couldn't help but feel somewhat guilty. Here she was, eating a nice meal in the company of a friend, and she still had not made any progress on her quest to find the truth of her husband's fate. Part of Caitrin dismissed the guilt, saying she had to look for the initiative rather than jump right in. But the other voice inside her head told her she needed to focus and truly seek out this 'Donagh'. After dinner, she told herself. Then we'll walk around town and mosey about.

"That's not going to be enough."

"What?" Caitrin asked Maya, taken aback by the roommate reading her thoughts.

"What you ordered. You're still going to be hungry." Maya frowned. "What did you think I meant?"

"Oh, nothing," Caitrin replied and grabbed another fried stick of starch off the center plate. "Well, let me ask you something." She took a quick drink of a local tea brew to wash down the appetizer. "Does this place seem at all like an Insurrectionist stronghold?"

Maya bit into her starch stick and shook her head. "Not from what we've seen so far." She gestured to the bar with her half-eaten stick. "Did you catch what was on those projectors?"

Caitrin squinted past the haze of the bar's interior to look at the screens strategically arrayed above the counter. "Sports games. They're watching sports, so what?"

Maya leaned forward. "Yeah, they're watching local sports teams play. How laid back does a community have to be to organize and holovise games?"

Caitrin nodded. "One that's got some security and peace of mind that their world is stable enough to enjoy themselves."

"Exactly." She popped the rest of her appetizer in her mouth and started talking before completely masticating. "Of course, we've only seen a small portion of Milanó."

"Yeah." Caitrin played with her straw, punching the blocks of ice that had settled at the top of her tea. Movement to her left, through the slits in the railing, brought her head around. Outside in the courtyard, a group of three dozen white-robed figures were making quite an entrance. Arrayed in a diamond-shaped formation and hiding their faces under hoods, the group held flickering candles as they slowly progressed in a "C" route around the edges of the courtyard. "Maya, look."

"I see them."

Most people moved aside, paying the white-robed figures little attention, but other stopped to stare. Some pedestrians even waved their fists and shouted, but their voices were inaudible due to the patio privacy glass.

The clanking of plates against the table caused both women to jump, as the waiter set their entrées before them. "Your dinner, madams."

Caitrin gave a casual look at her food, found it fit what she had ordered, and then pointed out to the courtyard. "Sir, do you know what those people are doing out there?"

The waiter craned his neck to get a quick look and then sighed. "They're Loyalists protesting Administrator Mahlon's authority." He retrieved the appetizer plate. "Is there anything else you require?"

"Wait a second," Maya said, holding up a hand. "Loyalists? Loyal to whom?"

The waiter gave her a quizzical look. "Loyal to the UNSC. I presume these small demonstrations are an attempt to mock the peaceful ones Mahlon had organized before the last election."

"So the whole planet isn't on the Administrator's side?"

The server looked down his nose at Maya. "Of course not. Just because Naomi Mahlon won the election doesn't mean she ran unopposed."

Caitrin looked up at the towering man. "Who ran against her?"

The waiter seemed to deflate at rehashing past politics. "A puppet the UNSC would have controlled, I'm sure." He closed his eyes for a moment. "Thorin. Samuel Thorin, if I remember correctly." He nodded and motioned to their plates. "Enjoy," he said, and quickly departed.

Caitrin and Maya sat motionless for the better part of a minute, just locked in a mask of shock.

Caitrin finally took several gulps from her glass to parch a dry mouth and shook her head. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked in a whisper.

Maya slowly nodded. "The Ambassador has more skin in this game."

"Yeah, and I don't doubt he'll do everything he can to guarantee a positive outcome."

"Well, this 'Samuel' is definitely a relative of the Ambassador, no doubt." Maya placed her elbows on the table and collected her fingers together near her face. "But what does this change? Anything?"

Caitrin sighed and sagged in her chair. This latest bit of intel has only informed us Herod's obviously gunning for his relative to take Mahlon's seat. The previous incident with the Cryo-pod told us how conniving Herod and Yunker could be, so why should this be any different? Caitrin cleared her throat. "But do you think the Ambassador might try something?"

Maya unfolded her fingers and picked up her knife and fork. "At this point, what can we do? Too many variables to calculate, Taryn."

Caitrin took a deep breath. Too many variables. "So we just ignore this?"

Maya twirled some noodles around her fork and used her knife to point to the side of her head. "I've got it bagged and cataloged up here." She took a bite of the light brown pasta covered in red sauce and her eyes widened. "This is really good."

Getting her first real look at her own food, Caitrin realized she did indeed order little in sustenance. The dark liquid mass confined in a bowl steamed, and she inhaled the spicy scent of her soup. As she dipped a spoon and slurped the warm broth, Caitrin didn't really feel all that hungry anymore. She couldn't tear her mind from the idea that Herod and his cronie was planning something devious at the negotiations. But what can I do? She swallowed her spoonful of soup and felt its warmth flood into her. She welcomed the sting in her nostrils and smiled at Maya. "This isn't bad either."

Maya returned the smile and continued devouring her meal.

Caitrin turned her attention back to the courtyard where the Loyalist group was departing. The three dozen individuals broke formation, split into two groups, and they left, traveling in opposite ways down the sidewalk. Too many variables, indeed.


They gathered their things to leave NightStar when an overly gracious man at the bar offered to pick up Caitrin and Maya's check. He gave them a wink, raised his glass, and motioned with his head to another man sitting beside him. Both patrons wore big smiles, and both were decidedly drunk.

"Watch this," Maya said. She got up and strutted towards the pair. She playful leaned against the bar with her shoulders back and whipped her hair about. She spoke a few words Caitrin couldn't hear and the two men hastily slapped a generous amount of credits on the counter top and pointed to Caitrin's table. The two drunks nearly stumbled over one another hurrying to the door. Maya kicked off the bar and casually walked back to the table with her hands out to her sides. "Tada."

A smirk formed over Caitrin's face. "What did you say to them?"

Maya pulled her duster off the back of the chair and put it on. "Oh, I told them two very attractive women from out of town would love to have a 'personal' tour of the city, if someone could cover their tab."

Caitrin glared. "You didn't."

"Relax, Taryn. I told them to meet us across the street in five minutes, which is where we won't be." She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "Let's take the long way back to the Palace. There's an alley sandwiched in between two burger joints down on the first level that leads to a side street. I say we head that way."

Shaking her head, Caitrin zipped up her jacket. "Lead the way."

Caitrin felt like a true undercover spy, ducking down a dark alleyway to reach the back street that Maya had mentioned. The tall walls that stretched to the sky on both sides muted the sounds of the city. The alley was surprisingly free of clutter with only a few bits of trash floating in small puddles left over from the afternoon rain. As they neared the end of the alley, Caitrin expected the hum of the city to once again assault her ears, but instead she found the side street eerily silent. Her stomach began to ache, but it wasn't from the soup she had ingested. It was for the lack of being armed. The closest thing she had to a weapon was her hands and feet.

Maya slowed her pace, sensing uneasiness as well. She stretched out her hand to halt Caitrin's progress and held up a finger to her mouth. "Shh. You hear that?" she whispered.

Caitrin leaned her head forward and caught the briefest of sibilance echoing off a building's loading dock door across the street. She grabbed Maya by the forearm and hauled her to the right. They both flattened themselves against the cool stone surface and strained their ears.

"Look, I didn't come all this way to find a group of Innies not worth the words they carry on their signs," a gruff voice growled.

"Talk is cheap, after all," a female voice soothed. "Rest assured we will be prepared to act when you give the signal."

The man snorted. "Yeah, sure. When the meeting starts, your people better be ready."

"Always a pleasure to hear from you."

Risking a peek around the corner, Caitrin poked her head far enough till she could see the two figures a dozen meters away. One was dress in all black, complete with a hooded cloak, while the other wore the same white robes as the Loyalist group she had seen earlier. They stood face to face with their backs to the buildings on either side, presenting Caitrin with their profiles. From the white-clad individual's stance Caitrin could tell that was the female. The man that gravely spoke was completely hidden in his clothing, presenting Caitrin another problem. The conversation she overheard was so vague that it could have been about any such meeting. But Caitrin's gut told her she needed to find out what was going on.

She felt Maya below her, crouching in the shadows to get a look for herself. Maya gave a gasp. "That's Yunker!" she hissed as quietly as she could.

The conspirators' heads snapped in Caitrin and Maya's direction, the sole overhead light casting shadows that hid their facial features, then both turned and started walking away in a hurried pace. Caitrin's heart felt as if it had slid down and was being devoured by her stomach. It couldn't be, could it? The Ambassador's aide?

Maya stepped into the side street and watched the departing conspirators disappear into the sidewalk pedestrian traffic. Her eyes wide with fright, she turned to Caitrin. "This is not good."

Caitrin looked down the opposite end of the street to find it would dump them out to a quieter section of town. "We should head back to the Palace, Maya," she said with a quivering voice.

The older woman worked her jaw for a moment. "I knew we should have kept a closer eye on that scum bag." She jerked her head to the direction Caitrin was looking. "Let's go."