Early November 2184 to Early January 2185, Nos Astra/Illium

I left Earth just after the Alliance elections concluded. The Indian Progressive Alliance performed well in the elections, increasing its roster of seats in Parliament. Its leader, Amul Shastri, even won election as the new Prime Minister for the Systems Alliance.

On the whole I felt pleased with our work. T'Soni Analytics made a substantial profit on the contract, and our clients expressed complete satisfaction with our performance. Meanwhile the Alliance government moved slightly further toward policies of galactic engagement and strong defense. I counted it as one more small victory against the Reapers.

No more obvious attempts on my life took place. Even so, as soon as I returned to my office in Nos Astra, I quietly began taking precautions.

I had plenty of resources to throw at the problem. By that time T'Soni Analytics was well over a billion credits in the black. We consistently pulled in four to five million credits in profit each day. I had already recouped my initial investment and the purchase price for Themis; now I worked to repay the funds diverted from Benezia's estate to the Eden Prime recovery project.

With a few keystrokes and a word to Aspasia, I doubled Arin's budget for technical security. With the new resources he was able to push our cryptography, our firewalls, and our intrusion detection systems out to the very edge of what was possible at the time. By the end of 2184, the Council itself probably did not have a better information assurance posture than ours. In the process, Arin located and destroyed no fewer than seven implants inside our low-security network. Someone, most likely several someones, had been monitoring our communications. We put a stop to that . . . and fortunately we found nothing inside our high-security networks that we didn't expect to be there.

We could also improve our physical security. Located high up on the side of an ouranonikos building, especially one that I owned, made the central office surprisingly easy to turn into a fortress. We installed redundant backups on air, water, power, and lift systems, improved the internal monitors, stockpiled supplies and weapons, and placed discreet kinetic barriers and point-defense weapons on the exterior of the building. Before long the office could stand up to anything short of a full military assault.

My apartment, on the other hand, presented a serious vulnerability. It had not been built with high-level security in mind. Yet I was reluctant to move. The thought of living my life within a fortress repelled me. I remembered Matriarch Pytho, living and working deep inside her mountain, never seeing the sun or the stars from one day to the next, and I had to shudder. Instead I set up a shell corporation, bought the entire apartment building, and began offering "security upgrades" to all the tenants. Starting with the famous archaeologist living in Suite Nine-Delta.

At the same time, I used another set of shell corporations to set up safe houses scattered around Nos Astra. Before I was finished, I had half a dozen of these, set up in ordinary apartment buildings, out-of-the-way warehouses, and the like. In each I stored panic supplies: food, water, clothing, medical gear, power and network access that wouldn't show up on the grid, weapons and equipment, false identities. I felt the need to have a few places ready to run to in an emergency. Just in case.

11 January 2185, Nos Astra/Illium

The VI announced a visitor at the door, and opened it on my order. Aspasia came in, as always wearing a stylish gown, this time in crimson with an outrageous cutout that displayed her cleavage down past her navel. She embraced me and then followed me into the living area. "What is it, Liara? You're being very mysterious."

I held a finger to my lips, asking for silence, and then opened my omni-tool to run the scanning software Arin had provided. I scanned my friend, head to toe.

"All right. You're clean," I told her.

She frowned, her voice serious. "You're afraid I might be bugged?"

"Let's just say I don't want to take any chances."

"Should we be meeting at your apartment, then?"

I made a gesture indicating the room. "I'm confident this place is safe. The apartment still looks ordinary enough, but it's very well defended against eavesdropping or attack."

"If you say so. What did you want to talk about?"

I sat down close to her on the couch, tucking my legs beneath me. "Aspasia, there's something I haven't told anyone until now," I continued. "You may have noticed that since Mumbai I haven't directed any new assets to monitoring Cerberus."

"Yevgeni mentioned it to me. He thought it was rather strange, considering they were supposedly behind the attack on you."

"What no one in the firm knows, not even Yevgeni, is that I have direct personal contacts with Cerberus. I've spoken to the leader of the whole organization, more than once."

Aspasia's eyes widened in shock. "Liara! They're terrorists."

"Yes, they are." I held her gaze with a stony expression. "They are also a temporary ally of convenience and an occasional source of critical information. Is this a problem?"

She had to think about it for a moment, but then she shook her head. "I suppose not. Given some of the pirates, mercenaries, and gangsters we have on the informant rolls, I suppose terrorists aren't much of a leap."

"Now, after the rocket attack I contacted Cerberus on a secure channel. Their leader told me that they were not behind the attack, and I have good reason to believe him. But there was something else. He knew that I am Kalliste Renai."

Her green eyes fixed on mine, and I could tell she was thinking quickly.

"Aspasia, if Cerberus knows about the Renai identity, then we can no longer assume it's a secret. Any of Renai's enemies might be behind the attack in Mumbai. Jona Sederis and Eclipse. Whoever was behind the scheme against Matriarch Pytho. Dalatrass Renvir. Battlemaster Kalusk and his Blood Pack. The Facinus separatists on Taetrus."

"Most likely Eclipse," she guessed. "Kalliste Renai gave them a bloody nose twice, and they won't have forgotten. They're also the most likely to have the resources needed to operate on Earth."

"Probably, but you're missing the point. How did the secret get out in the first place?"

She frowned.

"Aspasia, aside from me only six people should know for certain that I was ever Kalliste Renai: you, Yevgeni, James, Vara, Quintus, and Arin. We sealed the relevant mission reports tightly, and sanitized them before they went to Analysis. No one else ever saw me make the transition. Others in the firm might know I was in the field at the relevant times, but that's not enough to prove the connection."

"You're saying that we might have a mole," said Aspasia quietly.

"I'm afraid so."

She nodded. "Since we're talking about it, I assume you don't suspect me."

I reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Aspasia, I would trust you with my life. You're the one person in the firm that I'm absolutely certain is not a mole."

"Thank you." She dropped her eyes, thinking hard. "I can vouch for Yevgeni."

"Can you?" I asked, very quietly.

"Absolutely. That man has no secrets from me," she said smugly. "Besides, he's utterly loyal to you. I think he would die rather than betray you. I should be jealous."

"Hmm. Well, that makes three of us who aren't a mole. Can we eliminate anyone else?"

Slowly, she shook her head. "I don't think so. Quintus and Arin both seem utterly honest, but I can't prove that they're clean. I don't know James or Vara well enough to be certain. And it's at least possible that the information got out through other means. Suppose we have an implant in our high-security networks?"

"Arin's team didn't find any." Then I stopped, realizing what I had just said. "Goddess, if we can't trust Arin then none of our technology is safe."

"I know you have to worry about the possibility, but that is not how I would bet. I don't think that quarian even knows how to lie."

"I suppose you're right." I sighed. "All right, this is what I want to do. Talk to Yevgeni, somewhere that you can be sure nobody else is listening. Then the three of us are going to make some plans."

Aspasia looked at me suspiciously. "Liara, you have that expression on your face. The one that usually precedes some outrageously audacious and foolhardy scheme."

I raised my hands in a fending-off gesture. "Not at all. I may have the beginnings of an idea, nothing more than that."

"I don't believe a word you're saying."

15 January 2185, T'Soni Analytics Offices, Nos Astra/Illium

I watched the turian as he stood at attention on the other side of my desk. From long experience I knew better than to offer him a seat, or any refreshments. He would simply ignore the offer, never moving a muscle, but somehow radiating a sense of affronted dignity.

Goddess, I did not want to believe that he could possibly betray me.

I kept my mixed feelings out of my face and voice as I spoke. "Quintus, I think it's time that we changed our force-protection strategy."

"What do you have in mind, Doctor?"

"You may remember the discussion we had when I hired you."

He nodded slowly. "You suggested that Security might be called on to be a little aggressive in defending our interests."

"I think we have reached that point."

"Do you have a target in mind?" he asked mildly.

"Not yet." I gave him a quizzical stare, searching for subtle signs of guilty knowledge. I saw none. "As I recall, you had some reservations at the time."

"Doctor, when I applied for this position I already knew that you were a civilian, and new to the intelligence business. Civilians often get some . . . odd ideas as to what's involved."

I had to smile slightly. "You thought I was going to start issuing hit orders on a whim?"

"Nothing so crude," he replied, his mandibles twitching slightly in amusement. "I did suspect that once you realized that force was available, you might succumb to the temptation to use it as an expedient, instead of as a last resort."

"And now?"

"Now I know you better." His stance shifted slightly. "Besides, Doctor, someone tried to kill you a few weeks ago. If there's no recourse to the law, then I have no problem using force to communicate the idea that this was an unwise and impolite thing to do."

How could I have ever thought Quintus had no sense of humor? Now I smiled openly at him. "Illium is not like the Turian Hierarchy, Quintus. There is rule of law here, but it only applies to those who lack the resources to buy the law. Earn the attention of the greater players, begin to work with them or compete with them openly, and you obtain all the dubious benefits of anarchy. No longer bound by law, but also no longer protected by it."

"You'll forgive me, Doctor, if I find that rather revolting."

"I would be surprised if you didn't. What it means is that we must see to our own protection. If and when we find a target, I will expect you to be ready to strike."

"You have my word," said the turian.

"Good. In the meantime there are some other things we can do. I want you to assign bodyguards to Aspasia, Nyxeris, and me. Choose the largest, most intimidating turians on your staff who also have the proper training. These bodyguards must be seen to be on hand and ready for violence at all times, whenever any of the three of us are in public."

Quintus made the narrowed-gaze expression that stood in for a frown among turians. "I don't understand. Only the three of you? What about the other department heads?"

"You and the other department heads are not asari. I'm concerned about your safety as well, but it isn't as important that your personal security be highly visible." I leaned back in my chair and steepled my fingers. "We may not know who our enemy is yet, but I'm willing to bet that she is asari and based here on Illium."

"That's how I would bet too."

"Then we may be able to get somewhere by appealing to asari psychology." I appeared to change the subject. "Quintus, how do turians gain status in the Hierarchy?"

"Through competent and disciplined service to the res publica, of course."

"Well, we asari are highly gregarious and social beings, but we don't have anything like the turian concept of the res publica. You turians find it so easy to give your loyalty to an abstract State that you were doing it before you had language. We asari just don't have the same psychological drives."

Quintus snorted. "Yes, we've noticed. Anarchic bunch. Some of us wonder how you've managed to maintain such a high civilization for so long."

"That's because we have something to replace it: areté."

He blinked. "I think my translator just glitched."

"I'm not surprised." I thought for a moment, trying to decide how best to explain the concept to a turian. "It is possible for an individual asari to attract the admiration and loyalty of other asari, through some combination of personal beauty, sexual mystique, athletic ability, persuasive charm, mastery of a useful skill, control of a valuable resource, or simply a reputation for sheer intelligence and wisdom."

The turian's mouth hung slightly open, exposing his fangs, and his mandibles twitched in a manner I had never seen before. I decided the expression indicated complete confusion.

"You will notice what I did not include in that list," I said at last.

"Right," he growled, recovering. "Not a word about service to the State, or to any institution."

"Correct. Now, areté is often correlated with work in the military, in political office, in business, and so on. An asari who succeeds in any of those positions is demonstrating areté and tends to attract the admiration and loyalty of others. But that attraction is always on a personal basis. The moment she moves on to a new position, her areté goes with her, leaving none behind for her replacement."

"That is . . . just so bizarre."

"It works for us. We're wired for it."

"If you say so." He sighed. "What does this have to do with assigning bodyguards?"

"Well, in some ways the asari leading our firm are handicapped when it comes to demonstrating areté. Take me, for example. I'm not unattractive by asari standards, but I'm no great beauty. I have no sexual mystique to speak of; as far as most asari are aware, I've never taken a lover. I'm physically fit and had some athletic success when I was very young, but I've never developed a wide reputation for it. I've learned to be persuasive in social situations, but many other asari have more natural charm. I have a considerable scientific reputation, but not in a field that most asari value. I do control this firm, which counts as a valuable resource, but it's hardly unique. I am far too young to have any reputation for great wisdom." I spread my hands, as if laying out a proof for his inspection. "Quintus, most asari who matter are not going to want to take me seriously. Not until we force them to."

"Hmm. I remember that Matriarch Thessala underestimated you, back on Thessia."

"This is most likely why." I shook my head. "Don't misunderstand me, Quintus. None of this is so ingrained into our psychology that other asari will be unable to take us seriously. Anyone who gets to know me well – or Aspasia, or Nyxeris – will discover our areté for themselves. My concern is that our enemies won't bother to get to know us well. If we don't look like a threat, someone whom it's better not to interfere with, then there may be more attempts to harm us."

Quintus nodded slowly. "Hence the bodyguards. As big and intimidating as you can get."

"Exactly. Asari who have great areté that is recognized by everyone, who attract many followers, are often accompanied by bodyguards. The bodyguards themselves are an expression of areté. Without words, their presence says something like . . . do not think to interfere with this asari. She is one to be listened to and obeyed."

"Matriarchs and their commando escorts," he observed. "I always wondered why your commandos tend to wear those body-hugging outfits in black leather. It seems kind of impractical."

I smiled. "It is. But it is also very intimidating, at least to asari eyes."

Quintus grunted. "I suppose big turians with lots of fangs and talons and knives and really nasty guns can send the same message. Not to mention being ready to end anyone stupid enough not to listen to what their instincts are telling them."

"That's the plan."

21 January 2185, T'Soni Analytics Offices, Nos Astra/Illium

"Liara, could I steal a few minutes of your time?"

I glanced up from my desk to see Aspasia stepping into my office, closing the door behind her.

"What is it?"

"I think we may have figured out who was behind Mumbai."

I stared. "I've been working on that problem for weeks now, with no luck."

"I know," she said apologetically. "You've been trying to figure out who might have been angry enough at Kalliste Renai to send an assassin after you once they learned you and she were the same person."

"Right. The problem is that there are too many candidates, and at least one of them we never identified. I haven't been able to narrow it down."

"We tried something different. A new line of approach. We can't prove we're right, but we think it's worth further attention."

Some hesitation in her voice caused me to give her a suspicious glance. "Who are we, Aspasia?"

"Me, Yevgeni . . . and Quintus."

I frowned. "We have not cleared Quintus yet."

"I know. I don't think it matters. Liara, Quintus came to Yevgeni on this. If he was a mole, why would he do that?"

"To spread misinformation."

"Maybe. I think you still should hear us out. Then you can decide whether to act on it."

I leaned back in my chair and steepled my fingers, thinking hard. After about two minutes I nodded slowly. "All right. But tell Yevgeni before we begin: there is to be no mention of the Kalliste Renai identity, or of my contacts with Cerberus, or of the possibility of a mole, while Quintus is in the room. Until we can prove that Quintus is clean, I don't want him to know that we suspect anything or why. And I don't think we can take anything he gives us as completely reliable."

"Understood. I'll call them in."

Yevgeni and Quintus arrived within a few minutes, both of them looking somewhat predatory. For once, even the big turian elected to sit down as we all gathered around my conference table.

"Doctor, I'm not sure but I think we have a good idea who our enemy might be," said Yevgeni. "Quintus came up with the first idea, said he had a conversation with you a few days ago that got him thinking. He came to me, and we firmed the idea up some. Then we called on Aspasia for some of her specific expertise."

"All right," I said calmly. "Who else knows about this?"

"No one," said Quintus. "Something told me we should keep this to ourselves. In particular, aside from Aspasia I didn't want any of the asari staff to hear about it before we could talk to you."

"Why asari in particular?"

The turian's avian eyes focused on me. "I think you'll understand once we've laid out the argument."

I shrugged and spread my hands, inviting them to proceed.

"Let's start with this," said Aspasia, tapping at the console in front of her. A holo-window appeared over the table, displaying a very long list of names. Scanning the list, I saw that the vast majority of the names were asari, with a noticeable amount of repetition among the lineage names. "Here we have the top two hundred personal incomes on Illium, based on last year's data."

"Hmm. Am I on this list?"

Aspasia shook her head. "Not quite. With your profits from this firm, and your income from Matriarch Benezia's prior investments, you made about a billion and a half credits in the last standard year. The lowest personal incomes on this list come in just under two billion credits. You will probably move up onto the list next year, as the firm becomes more profitable and you continue to reinvest the bulk of your income."

I shook my head. "Sorry. I know it's not relevant. I was just curious."

"Actually it is relevant," said Aspasia. "Quintus?"

"It was our conversation that gave me the idea," said the big turian. "Assume that our enemy is asari, and that she's angry at you because we've interfered with her plans. It occurred to me that we've had two missions where we interfered really badly with asari plans. That business on Terapso, and then those pirate attacks on the IDF."

I nodded slowly, keeping my best poker face in place. "I'm with you so far."

Quintus leaned forward. "Well, I got to thinking about what our adversaries were doing in those missions. In both cases the adversary was going after older asari in a position of influence: the Terapso Port Authority in one case, Matriarch Pytho in the other. In both cases the scheme involved trying to seize a specific resource that the target controlled: ARGOS and the IDF. What does that suggest to you?"

I opened my mouth, closed it again, and began to think furiously.

Goddess, right in front of me and I never saw it.

"Attacks on the areté of successful elders," said Aspasia after a moment. "How does an asari gain power, if she isn't willing to wait centuries for the chance to inherit it? She tries to make her elders look weak and foolish, while at the same time trying to make herself look bold and resourceful. They lose areté, she gains it. Eventually their followers start abandoning them and coming over to her camp. Half the stories out of asari legend use that theme."

I nodded, forgetting my suspicions of Quintus in the pleasure of an intellectual problem to be solved. "We never had any reason to assume that the two incidents were causally connected . . . but you're proposing that the same motivations were behind both. That suggests in turn that it might have been the same person."

"It seemed at least worth considering," said Quintus. "Then it turned out to be such a productive line of reasoning that we decided to run with it."

"So we're looking for a relatively young asari. Say, no more than about five centuries old."

"That was our estimate as well," said Aspasia, smiling and tapping at her controls. Almost nine-tenths of the names faded to near-invisibility, leaving only a few brightly lit.

"You asari really concentrate wealth in the hands of your elders, don't you?" observed Yevgeni.

I shrugged. "It comes with our life cycle. It's unusual for asari to inherit wealth or property from their parents until they are well past their maiden years."

"Maidens usually don't build fortunes of their own, either," said Aspasia. "The instinct to settle down and start accumulating wealth doesn't normally come until the passage into matron status."

Yevgeni only glanced at me, one skeptical eyebrow raised.

"I'm something of an exception on both counts," I admitted. "I was born very late in my mother's life, and my motivations are . . . unusual for my stage of life."

"What she's saying is that she's a freak of nature," said Aspasia.

"Well, we knew that," said Quintus.

I looked around the table and decided to be amused rather than angry. "All right. We've cut the list down to . . . twenty-three names. Can we narrow it any further?"

"Sure," said Yevgeni. "This was my contribution. What we have is a young and very ambitious asari. Going after ARGOS was clever and audacious enough, but going after Matriarch Pytho took balls."

Quintus gave him a quizzical stare.

"Figuratively speaking," said the human.

"We'll discuss your favorite metaphors later, love," Aspasia purred dangerously. "At length."

"Your point," I commanded.

Yevgeni nodded and pointed to the holo-window before us. "This is where your question about your position on the list becomes relevant, Doctor. The list tends to be fairly stable, especially for the old, long-established interests. For example, the membership of the Twelve doesn't change much even over a time-scale of decades, and it's very rare for any of them to move even one space up or down on the list. There's more churn in the lower ranks, but even there it's unusual for anyone to zoom up or down more than, say, thirty spaces in a single year. Moving up the list that quickly takes either a lot of luck . . . or a lot of ruthless ambition. So let's filter out anyone who hasn't moved up the list at least that far in the past year."

Aspasia tapped at her controls again. Most of the names on the list disappeared entirely, leaving only six, which expanded and moved together to form a much shorter list.

I saw it then.

"One more filter," I said slowly. "Yevgeni, how is our visibility into Eclipse?"

"Not too bad," said the spy. "We have a fairly good picture of who employs their services on a regular basis, if that's what you're asking."

"That's correct. Let's filter out anyone who doesn't have frequent and continuing contacts with Eclipse."

The list shrank down to a single name. I nodded grimly, my suspicions confirmed.

Nassana Dantius.