"Her best subject is clearly classical languages, of course."
"Is that so?"
Nightfall followed Anya's homeroom teacher down one of Eden's many hallways, past a long row of windows that looked down into a courtyard. She hung back just slightly, near enough to her host that she could maintain an inconspicuous conversation, but far back enough that her periodic stares through the window would go unnoticed.
"Beyond that, I would mainly describe her learning habits as 'inconsistent'," the teacher said. Her name was Professor Spindler, a rail-thin woman in a conservative dress and a big floral apron who was apparently a long-standing veteran of the first-year classes. "Her testing has improved as the year has gone along, but her in-class work varies by the day. It makes her hard to teach because I'm not sure where her major weaknesses are."
"I suppose she focuses hardest when it comes to exams," Nightfall said, in the middle of another stare out the window. She reached up and surreptitiously tugged at her collar, and took a quick glance back down into the courtyard below.
"That seems to be the case," Spindler said. "Her ability to retain knowledge in the short term is surprisingly good, too. She can skim a page and apparently remember everything on it, for about five minutes."
"That's remarkable."
"Have you been doing any memory training with her at home?"
By now Anya's Bondman game had grown to encompass over a hundred different types of cards and a rulebook that expanded by about five pages every time a new episode of the cartoon came out. Anya never needed to consult the rulebook. "Oh, I just help her with her studies like any normal parent."
"I'd recommend focusing on improving her handwriting, to start. That's her consistently weakest area," Spindler said, turning a corner.
Professor Spindler seemed like a woman who was not innately built for dealing with small children and was fighting tooth and nail against her natural inclination. She couldn't get rid of her scarecrow-like figure, or the permanent frown built into her face, or the voice that sounded like something that got most of its food by diving onto it from above, so she padded those features with a giant apron stuffed with crayons, and classroom exercises centered around pastel colors and fluffy toys and absolutely no ninety-degree angles whatsoever. It was nice to know that Anya was dealing with an expert.
She looked back down into the courtyard, where Twilight was still dealing with someone who definitely was not an expert.
Twilight had obviously noticed the other person attempting to sneak into the school. It was frankly astonishing that Professor Spindler hadn't noticed. People coming through the courtyard days later would probably notice, what with the trail that idiot was leaving behind. And Nightfall, in her position as spotter for Twilight's infiltration mission, had of course noticed him instantly.
It was no great mystery why some other agency might independently try to infiltrate Eden's record room at this time. It was a mystery why they would send someone wearing a boater hat and a cloak of ignorance.
Nightfall raised her eyes above the courtyard again. There, on the roofs of Eden, she saw a flicker of movement. Ah. Now things were making more sense.
"Socially, she's well-developed for her age, aside from her enmity with young Mr. Desmond," Spindler said. "She spends most of her time playing with young Miss Blackbell and Mr. Watkins, but she also-"
Nightfall tugged at her collar again. "Pardon me, but I have to go to the bathroom."
"Oh, of course. You can use the one at the end of this hall," Spindler said.
Nightfall nodded. "I think I'll be able to show myself out afterwards. Thank you so much for your time."
"Of course, Mrs. Forger. Tell your daughter I said hello."
Nightfall walked down the hall towards the bathroom, away from Professor Spindler. As soon as the sound of sensible black sneakers faded away down the other corridor, she pivoted, and made her way towards the nearest stairwell.
As she walked, she fingered the inside of her collar, making sure the camera concealed there was still positioned right, and the roll of film was still secured. Keeping an eye out for Twilight was important, of course, but she didn't want to forget about her other objective today. If Twilight's hunch was right, and the assassination attempt on Desmond was planned for the day of the Imperial Scholar exams, they needed as much information on the surrounding buildings to see if there was anything an assassin could use to their advantage.
But of course, if there was somebody dangerous here right now, that was also something that needed to be taken care of.
Roof access at most of Eden's buildings was restricted, theoretically. Most of the buildings had sloped tiled roofs that weren't an ideal environment for excitable gradeschoolers with powerful and litigious parents. But occasional maintenance had to come up through somewhere, and the hatch in the attic was sealed with a padlock that Nightfall could have picked with an angry sneeze.
She crept out onto the roof, towards the direction of the shape she had seen earlier. Twilight and the moron had already gone inside the building, but it was still there up on the roof with her. As Nightfall got nearer, she could see it was a dark-haired woman, doing a very poor job of concealing herself on the roof.
Nightfall approached the stranger from behind, debating whether to try knocking her out. Before she could act, she saw the muscles in the woman's back abruptly tense, and in a blur she spun around to face her.
The woman had her arms raised in a fighting stance. After a second, she seemed to realize what she was doing and dropped them self-consciously.
"I'm sorry. I know I'm not supposed to be here," the woman said. She gave a friendly smile that nearly bisected her face as nervous sweat began to rain off of her. "I'm just. Uh. I'm bird watching, up close!"
Nightfall had worried that the idiot in the courtyard might have been a smokescreen for the real, professional infiltrator on the roof, but with a closer look she decided that probably wasn't the case. This woman obviously wasn't a professional either- athletic, and very observant, but not actually trained in the art of stealth. You could tell from the little things. The way she didn't know not to silhouette herself against the light, the way she crouched like she thought it would make less noise, the way she didn't think twice about knocking dirt off the roof into the courtyard below.
You could also tell from the big things, like how her idea of a stealthy outfit was a black-and-white striped shirt and an enormous domino mask.
Nightfall considered all this, and recalibrated her interrogation accordingly.
"So you don't know anything about anyone in the courtyard?"
"No!" the woman said. She grinned nervously, as if impressed at her own expert deflection.
"You don't know anything at all about what's happening in the courtyard?"
"I said no! Why would I know anything about a man in the courtyard?"
"I see. Well, you shouldn't have said the man in the courtyard was your partner, then."
"I didn't say he's my partner! He's my husband!"
The woman stared at her with a blank angry expression, like a frowny face painted on a balloon. Eventually, light dawned behind her eyes.
"Oh no!"
"Thank you so much for not telling anyone, Mrs. Forger," the woman said, tucking her domino mask into her back pocket as they walked out of the building together.
"It's not my business," Nightfall said. She checked her watch. Twilight should be extracting from his mission any minute now. Lucky that the "you just told me" gambit worked even faster than she had expected.
"I'm sorry for bothering you, still. It's a shame you walked up onto the roof for some fresh air and found me there," the woman said sheepishly.
The woman was named Yor, and she was an office worker whose only major sin appeared to be her choice in romantic partners. She was on the campus not to infiltrate, or collect information, but simply to make sure her husband didn't get himself killed. It had come as quite a shock to her when his "secret" hobby had actually landed him a real mission; apparently the first that had not come from the back of a cereal box. She was naturally wary of how it might go for him. The way Yor described it, climbing across a couple of rooftops to follow him seemed a lot easier than explaining things to the police if he got himself killed. She already got enough questions about her husband.
"I tell people he's an out-of-work actor," Yor had said.
Their brief conversation had given Nightfall a fair amount of respect for Yor. Anybody in her situation who managed to stay sane obviously possessed an enormous amount of mental fortitude. Anybody who stayed chipper and optimistic was obviously some sort of super soldier.
"Your secret's safe with me, Yor. It's not your fault your husband is deranged," Nightfall said.
"He's not deranged! He's just..." Yor drifted off, presumably trying to think of a word that wasn't a synonym.
"Passionate," she said, not finding one. "He has something he loves and he wants to enjoy it, whether he's any good or not. He always finds something positive in any situation. And he cooks, and he takes care of the house, and he's good with kids!"
"Kids?"
"He plays hide-and-seek with the landlady's children."
"I see," Nightfall said. Yor smiled sheepishly.
"Nobody's perfect," she said. "I mean, I'm sure you love your husband, but would you say he doesn't have any flaws?"
Nightfall opened her mouth for the reflexive response. But after a moment, she closed it again.
They walked together in silence for a moment, reaching the path that led to Eden's front gate. Nightfall's mind drifted back to the other area of her mission today. She thought back to the camera in her collar, and let her eye wander around the roofs again, trying to see if there were any obvious vantage points she had missed.
"Are you alright, Mrs. Forger? You seem distracted," Yor said.
"Am I? I'm sorry," Nightfall said, hurriedly dropping her eyes back to ground level. "It's been a long day, I'm afraid."
"Were you looking for something up there?"
"No, of course not," Nightfall said. "Just looking for... dangerous things about the buildings. To make sure my daughter is safe here, of course."
Yor cupped her chin in one hand. "Well, I don't think you should be worried about that. This place seems safe enough..."
"That's fine," Nightfall said. Lucky that she bought the excuse. The last thing she needed was some civilian getting strange ideas about-
"The building we just came out of had three entrances, one of them leading into an alley, all of which would need to be individually locked or blocked. The windows don't open and have reinforced frames, so an assailant could still theoretically seal off the building if they wanted to track down a person inside," Yor said, suddenly speaking in a rapid staccato tone, her eyes turned to pinpoints that swiveled around like a predatory bird. "The building layout was straightforward and connected along a single hall per-floor, with only two staircases, so a minimum of three assailants would be needed to perform a complete sweep. There's a notable lack of potential makeshift weapons for defensive purposes. No fire axes, janitor's closet only has cleaning supplies, some deadly in the right hands. The roof would make an escape point, and gives a good view over the courtyard, but access is limited and completely exposed to any hypothetical gunmen operating from the tower. I haven't observed the basement area, but based on the architecture I'd say..."
Yor drifted off. She raised her head, apparently surprised to discover that the world had continued to exist while she was lost in a world of blood and floorplans. "Well, I'm just guessing. Your daughter isn't in any danger, really." she said sweetly.
"I hope not," Nightfall said. She was impressed. There was a dark and powerful imagination lurking beneath that goofy little smile.
They reached the arched gate to outside Eden's grounds, where the last few student stragglers were going home for the day. Nightfall stopped, but Yor went on ahead.
"Anyway, it was nice meeting you," she said brightly. "I have to get home soon. My husband's making beef stroganoff tonight!"
"Pleasure meeting you as well," Nightfall said, sitting down on an available bench. Beef stroganoff. Twilight could make better stroganoff than Yor's husband, definitely.
She sat on the bench for a few minutes, just enjoying the afternoon. She watched the last students leaving for the day as they walked down the street outside the gate. Hopefully Twilight wouldn't be too late; Franky and Anya always got up to trouble when they were left alone for too long. The last time they had needed a babysitter on a long afternoon, they had come home to find Franky tied to a chair while Anya cut letters for a ransom note out of the newspaper. Anya should have known better than that. You used magazines for that; the printing held much better.
Eventually Twilight came walking in from outside the gate, as they had planned, to make it seem as if he had come to pick her up. He gave her a nod, sat down heavily on the bench beside her, and looked her in the eyes with a tight-lipped expression.
"You saw him," Twilight demanded. "Please tell me you saw him."
"Of course I saw him," Nightfall said. Twilight exhaled like he hadn't breathed since he saw that boater hat traipsing through the courtyard.
"I'm so glad you're here," he said. He leaned back against the bench, relaxing his shoulders and just staring up into the sky.
"It was pretty hard to miss him, Loid."
"I know. That's why I was terrified I might be hallucinating."
Nightfall just watched him, the invincible Twilight taken aback by something as simple as an incompetent counteroperative.
Would you say your husband doesn't have any flaws?
A year ago, Nightfall's response to that question would have been an immediate "Obviously". She would have been angry at the implication, even. Twilight was categorically perfect. Or at least, that's what she had thought.
She had noticed little things about Twilight ever since they had started working together on Strix. Little moments of hesitation, glimpses of uncertainty. She had almost convinced herself that she was imagining it, because after all, wasn't that more likely than Twilight making mistakes? But then there had been that quiet afternoon with Major Watkins.
Nightfall knew Twilight's face, his reactions, the way he put on expressions as part of his cover. But she had never seen him reel the way he did when Watkins cheerfully asked him about his military service. That wasn't just the focused anxiety of someone wondering if their cover was blown. The question had hit something deep inside of Twilight that he had never wanted to resurface. A year ago, Nightfall would have never believed something like that could survive in the perfect man.
Nightfall cleared her throat. "Anya's teacher says she's doing well," she said. "What did her grades look like?"
"Anya's grades were... good?" Twilight said, mystified, still staring up into the sky. 'Much better than I expected, in fact. She actually might earn another Stella Star on one of the tests."
"That's good for us. We should reward her when the results officially come in," Nightfall said.
"No question, I just hope the reward for this one is a little more straightforward than Bond was," Twilight said, smiling gently at nothing in particular. He looked back down at her. "Did you get the pictures?"
Nightfall nodded. "We can review them later, but my opinion is that the roofs are a no-go. You'd be exposed to, say, any hypothetical gunmen on the tower."
"I think one of the reports mentioned snipers as part of the security, actually," Twilight said.
"So we can rule out another potential means of attack on Desmond, then." She coughed. "I think we can generally disregard the risk of attack past the security checkpoints, actually. Barring the unlikely event of Desmond visiting one of the classroom buildings while it was under assault by a group of minimum three people."
"That's some good analysis. But you're right, that's not going to happen without an assassin working on the inside."
Nightfall nodded, and stood up. She held out a hand to Twilight, who gladly let himself be pulled back up to his feet.
"Come on. Let's get home before Franky and Anya burn down the building," he said.
"Let's stop by the grocery store on the way home. Our diets would benefit from beef stroganoff tonight."